Who’s ready for…

#WIPtime? It’s WIP Wednesday. Hashtag #WIPwed

I know it seems like forever since I have posted something about the next book.

I’m sorry!

I sometimes get stuck in my head and forget that there is a world out there beyond my imagination.

But for those of you following along, waiting to read more…
here it is.

Big hugs and bigger dreams.

TCOS – 4:

With arms folded loosely in front and a chessy-cat grin painted across plumb full lips, Thomas leans back into the chair of the kitchen nook and un-zippers his coat.
Gabrian sets the bottle down on the counter with wobbly hands and fumbles wretchedly with the buttons on the i-pod trying to turn down the music. Her heartbeat pounds in her ears, finally pressing mute with dumb fingers—strangely they’re not tingling like usual when she is distressed. “How long have you been sitting there?”
“Long enough.” His grin grows wider.
“What did you see?”
“Oh, you know,” he says, looking away and waving his hand, “stuff.”
“And what?”
“Aren’t you going to ask me how I did that?” She fiddles at the side of her head with a short strand of hair.
“Would it make you feel better if I did?” He leans forward, twisting his brow.
“Yes, actually.”
“Ok, Gabrian.” He leans back again and lays an arm on the nook table, pretending to be somewhat serious. “How did you do that?”
“Ok, now you are just being a bugger.” She growls at him and turns away, “You could at least try to look surprised. Not smirk at me with those big beautiful eyes of yours.”
He lets out a warm chuckle. “I am still waiting for you to offer me one of those beer.”

She stops cutting her lettuce and glares over her shoulder at him. “You’re serious aren’t you?”
“Damn straight, it has been a long day and I could use one.”
“You just saw me do something that is totally illogical and improbable but yet all you want is a beer.”
“Yup, pretty much.”
“Ok, buster,” she says setting down her knife and heads towards the fridge. Grabbing another tall golden bottle she marches it straight over and places it on the table in from of him. “Why aren’t you asking me about this?”

Thomas only grins and points to the still fastened cap. “Really?” Gabrian lets out a growl, twisting her lips. Her eyes stare at him, loosen an icy glow as he holds her eyes still wearing his grin. The vapours swirl quickly within his bottle and soon the cover pops. He catches it without missing a beat.
“Alright, there’s your beer. Now talk.”

Raising his finger to her, he lifts the bottle and tipping it up, he lets the liquid pour into his mouth. Gabrian purses her lips and crosses her arms across her chest, tapping her toe. Swallowing it down with closed eyes, Thomas mimics Gabrian’s own groan earlier. “Yup, that sure hits the spot.”

“Alright, already.” She demands, removing the bottle from his hands and placing it back on the table in front of him. “Why aren’t you freaking out right now?”

He wipes the edge of his mouth with his hand—the grin returning to his lips. “The same reason you have never asked me about my colors.”