I wrote today.

My life! After two years of having my husband commute from OKC to Dallas and back every weekend we were thrilled with a job closer to home. That was short lived. Three months later after a grueling commute through downtown Dallas and a job that was not a good fit we were unemployed for the first time in our married life. Six weeks later a perfect job and another move in our vagabond life. Our house which couldn't sell last year or the year before sold before the last hammer blow on the for sale sign was struck. A house hunting trip found us a lovely home in Tennessee. In the middle of all this I was diagnosed with breast cancer, got treated (radiation only) and am now in remission.
My heart aches to leave behind my friends and my newly formed writer's group. But I am giddy with anticipation of what lies ahead.
I set my writing goals before I knew all this was going to happen in our lives. Today though I was able to write about 500 words on the contemporary romance, Hot Shot. I also wrote a couple hundred words on my fairy tale rewrite, Ursidae Prince. It was nice to finally get some of my stories to move forward. I have put the match flame to the kindling and hope that I will soon have a stoked fire to fuel my writing machine.

Today's writing from Ursidae Prince:
            Sunlight and shadow played across her closed eyelids. Her bed rocked and swayed. She felt it would take herculean effort to open her eyes. A familiar grunt sent her hand out to touch fur but it was moving contrary to the swaying of her bed. She blink against the light and looked around at her surroundings. Tree tops danced above her. A soldier walked at the foot of her bed and another had his back to the head of her bed. A litter, they were carrying her on a litter. She tried to rise. Her ribs ached and her shoulder burned.

“Wait, majesty, we will put you down first.” The soldier at her feet spoke. They lowered her pallet to the earth and then hovered around her as she tried to sit up. Delia appeared at her side and put her arm around Rosanna’s shoulders to help her rise.

“I am injured.” Her hand rose shakily to her shoulder.

“Yes, majesty. Bruised ribs and a rend on your shoulder.”

“An assassin?” She lifted open the neckline of the night rail to peer at the bandage on her shoulder.

“We think it was the witch queen. Your vest was charmed. As the sun set it began to squeeze the life out of you.”

“I remember.”

“It resisted any attempt to unlace it. Finally bear tore it loose with his teeth and claws. Thus the rend on your shoulder.”

            “You saved me again you magnificent beast.” She reached out her hand to touch his head but he lowered it and with a mournful moan swung his head to and fro. “You are sad because you injured me, you silly bear. I promise I shall use my next tears to heal myself.”