Amy Lane's Blog: Writer's Lane, page 55

Why Did The Snakes Cross the Road? Part 1

So, why did the snakes cross the road?

Well, in real life, to get from high ground to low ground, from a dry place to water, and then from flooding back to the dry place again.

Seriously-- there's a place in Georgia where copperheads migrate twice a year. Fortunately it's part of a national park, so they're able to close the roads, and people just, you know... don't go down that road.

But...

Well, I had this wonderful, awful idea.

Lock two lovers in a car and send them down that road when they weren't expecting it. What would happen? What would they say? What would they do? How would each couple's reaction differ from the last's?

That, I thought, would be delightful.

It wouldn't matter how they got there (unless that was part of who they were) and it wouldn't matter how they got out--we shall just assume that eventually, they all get out, and nobody gets bit, and we don't have to shoot anything because of the snakes.
But for just a snippet of conversation, there's going to be guys, locked in a car, and there's gonna be snakes.

So Merry Christmas, everybody. I Wish you all hope and joy, family if they're good for you, peace if they're not. Kindness and food for your soul and, whatever your faith, I hope the next few days are full of solstice celebration of whatever belief gives you peace.

Now, if you're afraid of snakes, just stop there, because the rest of this is gonna be a big nope.

But if you can deal with snakes on the road... well, enjoy.  (And look for Part 2 in the next couple of days, too :-)

* * *

   
Regret Me Not-- Pierce and Hal


"Is it over?" Hal sounded peevish--and, for one of the rare times in their relationship, young.

"Is what over? I'm not looking either, remember?" But Pierce definitely sounded like a grumpy bastard.

"Oh Jesus. They climb up through the engine. I read that once. They can climb out of the ventilation at any time."
Pierce recoiled. He'd seen that meme too. "I hate you so much."

"I was going to offer you a blow job to pass the time."

For a moment Pierce forgot his fear and looked at Hal curiously, and Hal looked back, his magnificent amber eyes wide. Then they both clapped their hands over their eyes.

"OH holy trouser snakes, NO!" Pierce snapped.

"I may never have sex again," Hal said, sounding haunted. "I"m twenty-three. Those are some of my best years."

"We WILL have sex again!" Pierce said with determination. "But first..."

"One of us has to open his eyes."

They took a deep breath in tandem, and Pierce felt Hal's hand creep into his own. They laced their fingers together, and Pierce said, "Okay. On three. One, two, three, LOOK!"

"AUUUUUUUUUGHHHHHHHH!!!""THERE'S MORE OF THEM!"

"Oh Jesus God," Hal moaned. "We're going to die here. We're going to be the skeleton in Indiana Jones with the snakes coming out of the eyeballs."

"I hate you." PIerce thought he was going to throw up.

"But... but you love me, too, right?" Sudden vulnerability. Pierce opened his eyes and looked determinedly at Hal and only at Hal and not at the road in front of them."Yeah, baby. I still love you."

"Even though I took the wrong turn into the state park with the snake migration?"
Pierce breathed deeply. "It's going to make a great story. Just as soon as..."

"Yeah. As soon as the goddamned snakes stop crossing the road."


* * *


Fish Out of Water--Jackson and Ellery

Jackson couldn't help it. He stared at the road, fascinated. "I had no idea snakes did that," he mused, checking his phone. They'd been stuck there for about fifteen minutes, the engine running to keep the snakes from crawling up inside.  "How's the Lexus doing."
Ellery took a deep measured breath, the kind of thing he did when he was trying not to be perturbed. "Not overheating. Not guzzling gas. We're fine for another hour, and then we have bout fifty miles to find a gas station."  Another one of those deep, measured breaths, exhaled through his nose. "Do you think they'll be gone by then?"
Jackson assessed the situation with narrowed eyes.  When he and Ellery had first realized the gate must have been left mistakenly open, and had come to a halt, there had been two, maybe three snakes on the road, with four or five on their heels. Now there were a good ten snakes, all of them ignoring the hell out of the Lexus, intent on wherever they were going. 
"It's getting hot," he said after a moment. "You can tell--they're moving faster. Pretty soon it'll be too hot to hit the concrete, and then we can turn around and get out. See? That one there?"
He directed Ellery's attention to one of the smaller ones--a tender adolescent snake, as it were--which settled its chest on the asphalt and then lifted suddenly, unhappily. Well, Jackson wasn't fond of the heat either, and this part of the country didn't fuck around in the summer. 
"Yeah." Ellery studied the snake dispassionately. "He's going to cross, I think, but you're right. Not too many after him." 
"Poor guy." Jackson grimaced. "Guess you gotta do what you gotta do, you know?"
He became acutely aware of Ellery's deep brown eyes, running over his face. "Yeah," Ellery said again. "You gotta admire someone who works hard to survive."
Jackson's face heated. "These guys are going through that for a better spot," he said, knowing they were talking about his own life and not sure how not too. "I mean, that's good. They don't want to hurt anybody, but, you know, snakes gotta drink, snakes gotta hunt, snakes gotta not cook in the sun."
"Jackson's gotta eat, Jackson's gotta drink, Jackson's gotta not travel the world alone."
Jackson's mouth twisted fondly. "Ellery, I'm trapped in a car with you in the middle of a snake migration. I'm pretty sure I'm okay on the company front."
Ellery let out a sharp bark of laughter. "Although this was not quite what I had in mind."
Suddenly Jackson started to chuckle. "Hey, do we get cell reception?"
"Yeah..."
"We should call Kaden. He hates snakes. Wait, even better!" He pulled out his phone and started taking pictures. His brother was going to fucking kill him. "This is gonna be great."
"Mature, Jackson. I'm so proud."
"Whatever. Here--you take some too. I'll send to Kaden, you send to Mike--wait! Do you think Lucy Satan likes snakes?"
Ellery let out a pained sound. "I think it might be one of the few fears my mother has!" 
Jackson turned to him, eyes wide and full of light. "Please?" he begged.  Oh please. Please. Ellery's mother--the most terrifying woman on the planet. Just once... just once he would love to see her discombobulated. Just once.
Ellery's eyes narrowed. "You love my mother," he said mildly. "I'd hate to destroy that relationship."
"Killjoy."  Whatever. Jackson kept taking his own pictures. Ellery could play it safe with Lucy Satan, but Jackson's family would never forgive him if he didn't terrorize them with this experience via text.
*  *  * 
Keeping Promise Rock-- Deacon and Crick
"Seriously?" Crick asked for about the third time.
"Give them time," Deacon said calmly. "They'll move."
"Not fuckin' fond of snakes, Deacon."  Crick's shoulders twitched, probably remembering the snake he'd told Deacon about in the desert "I mean, these guys are fucking poisonous too."
Deacon grunted. He wasn't fond of snakes either--especially ones migrating in groups. "Yeah. That's why the car's on." It was a rental--they were visiting folks and had decided to go sightseeing before they had to be back in Atlanta to catch the plane. The wrong turn into the national forest had not been on their agenda.
"They're fucking creeping me out," Crick said darkly. He shifted in his seat and tried to stretch, and Deacon could see him dorsiflexing his foot and calf. 
"Turn your back to the door," Deacon told him, "and turn. I'll rub your leg."
Crick grunted and did what Deacon said, manually hauling his leg up and over the island.  Deacon went to work on his foot and calf. Crick sighed and released some of his tension, leaning gingerly back against the car.  "Thanks, Deacon. How you holding up?"  It was a valid question. They'd visited Drew's family and Martin's as well, since Benny and Drew were making the rounds with the birth of their new baby, and while traveling wasn't easy on Crick, visiting was pretty rough on Deacon. 
"At least the snakes don't talk," Deacon told him with a shrug.
"I knew it!" Crick said grimly. "You were really good with all those people, but I could tell."
Deacon had tried to hide his discomfort--had, in fact, been mostly victorious over the shyness that had so crippled him when they first got together. But new people were new people, and dammit, Deacon missed The Pulpit. And, "I miss our son," he said wistfully. The trip was a short one--five days--and J.D. had an ear infection just before they were supposed to get on the plane. Kimmy and Lucas had offered to help Missy watch him for them, but it was their first trip away from him since he'd been born. 
"Yeah, well." Crick let out a breath.  "I just wish, if we were going to have all that time away from him, that some of that time could have been for us."
Deacon stared at him. Oh my God. He was right. They'd been caught in a whirlwind of visiting and getting to know Martin's folks and Drew's folks and talking about their families--ambassadors of gay, as it were, to two families that weren't as familiar with LGBTQ folks as the people back home. But that whole time they'd been focused on Benny and Drew, Parry Angel and little Conrad, and on Martin, the young man who was going to move out to California permanently and become part of their friend Colin's business. 
This moment here, trapped by a snake migration neither of them had foreseen, was their first private moment in a week.
Deacon stopped massaging Crick's calf. "You got cell reception?" he asked, and Crick struggled for his phone from his back pocket. 
"Uh, yeah?"
"I'll push back the plane ticket and make a hotel reservation if you talk to Kimmy and Missy," he said decidedly. 
Crick gaped at him. "What?"
"Private time, Carrick James. Don't you... you know. Want some? Just us?"
Crick's mouth dropped open and his eyes widened comically. "Oh my God!" 
"What?" Oh no. Was Deacon being a bad father? A bad friend? Irresponsible? They had kids from Promise House working with the horses--would that be too much to ask Shane and Mickey? "Nevermi--"
"Deacon Parrish Winters, don't you dare walk that back!" Crick said urgently. "No--no. I think that's a great idea! I'm dying for some private time with you in a hotel room. Room service? Can we get room service?"
Deacon had to smile. Crick did most of the cooking back at home--having someone else make and serve him food must have sounded like heaven. "Yeah. We can get room service. So you want to try?"
Crick leaned his head back against the glass and just smiled, his narrow face looking youthful and sunshiny and all the things Deacon had loved about Crick from their very first meeting, when Crick had been just a boy, watching Deacon work out his horse. "It sounds like the most wonderful idea in the world."  He shivered, apparently excited about the idea. 
Deacon smiled, warmed by his enthusiasm. "Okay--so, phones out--"
"Can we do two days?" Crick asked wistfully. "Please?"
Deacon placed his hand on Crick's arch, pushing a little so the stretch wouldn't end. "Sure," he said. He'd never been able to refuse Crick anything. 
"Good. I'll hand you the phone when J.D.'s on. He'll want to talk to Deek-Deek."
Sure he would. J.D. was three now, but Deacon reckoned he'd be J.D.'s Deek-Deek for possibly the rest of his life. 
Before he looked up the number to change his tickets and book the hotel room, he took a gander outside the car. The snakes were still migrating, making their focused, wiggling way across the road. Deacon would never love snakes--but he had to admit, he Crick had time together, private time, because they'd decided to cross the road. 
It could be the one time in his life he was grateful for snakes. 

From Gladiator to Idiot Dogs

Geoffie got groomed today. It's adorable.

She got a free toy with the grooming, and while I've mostly given up on toys, I thought I'd give this one a spin. I wanted to see if the dogs could actually fetch.

I was on the phone to Mate at the time--and after fifteen minutes of playing with the dogs and the toy, throwing the toy, and having the dogs come lick my hand, I said:

"Those dogs we brought home won't fetch.  They just stare at me, panting, and then lick my hand. You have given me idiot dogs."

Mate thought it was hilarious.

That is all.

Oh-- except this.

Squish washed her hair this morning and then left it unbraided.

And this happened.

And it's so very very pretty.

I had to share.

I had hair like that once--and I remember people saying nice things about it--and I never said, "I hate it," or "I wish it was blonde and straight."  Because even when I was a kid I knew that we only get a few gifts, and I was just grateful for this one.

So is she--and that makes me happy.

Family Dinner

So after my grandmother passed, my bio-mom's side of the family has sort of... lost touch. It's nobody's fault really-- grandma was our focus, and she was a woman of large personality and formidable will. Someone had to take charge, but she raised a  bunch of independent wandering souls-- it's been a conundrum.

Anyway, my Aunt Monica took charge and said, "We're meeting for dinner, here, at 6:30--no gifts!"

But Mate was making fudge, and I had the most adorable gift boxes, and so everybody got fudge.

And I was feeling pretty good about that--I admit it.

Now those who read The Virgin Manny may vaguely remember the guy who hired Artie. Artie was (as many people suspected) based on my oldest son, Big T, and the guy who hired him--Phil--is a dead ringer for my uncle, who hired Big T to work in his small warehouse.

Big T gets along very well in his job.

Seriously-- he works hard, he's kind, and my Uncle Phil and Aunt Barbara are also kind, and in a way, it's been really awesome because there's a link to that side of the family that I wouldn't ordinarily have.

Anyway--

Barbara is scary competent.

T says she does the work of five people in the office and I believe him.

Her home is lovely--flawless and originally decorated, and homey and warm.

Her two sons--full grown now--are kind and charming and handsome and thoughtful

Scary. Competent.

Well, tonight, after I gave everybody their fudge and sat down next to Barb, she turned to me and said, "You guys have to come over for dessert afterwards. I've got presents."

"No gifts," I said, a big panic light going off in my head.

"You brought fudge. You broke the rule first."

*panic panic  panic*

Well the gifts were awesome--and dessert was wonderful, and we had pictures taken of the family together and generally it was an awesome time.

But I'm not going to forget or forgive.

Next year, I'm frickin knitting.

Twas the week before Christmas...

So seriously, if I was going to write the list of things yet to do I'd still be here at Christmas, writing.  So just little short takes tonight-- some stuff that may be of interest to you...

*  Re: The newsletter. It's a learning curve. Everybody who's entered their name for the newsletter by Dec. 26th should be getting one on January 2nd (or thereabouts-- Ambrosia is in Atlanta for Christmas so things are very long distance.)  If you entered your name on the page on my website, you'll get a notice on that page immediately that says you're entered--so don't panic. The names have to be entered by hand and it's Ambrosia's baby-- she'll get to it. (She's the one with the OTHER baby, the adorable one that shows up on my blog from time to time ;-)

*  Watch this space and my social media--I wrote a lovely sized ficlet for Dex and Kane and Christmas--it's going to show up on LITERARY ESCAPISM sometime in the next week!

*  So, Mate and I went shopping on Friday--and we did accomplish something, but we also had a little bit of fun.

Because Mate.

*  We went shopping this morning with Squish and Zoomboy and dropped a load of cash at Hot Topic. The worst part of that was wandering through Hot Topic going, "Oooh... gonna get this and this and this..." and then turning around to one of the kids going, "So, Mom, what are you getting?"

This was usually met with "AUGH YOU SUCK!"

"But why? Why do we suck?"

"Never mind. Walk away from the Pusheen and Overwatch sections. Now."


*  Also, while in line at Hot Topic, someone behind me said, "You're Amy, right?"  It was Mate's cousin, whom we hadn't seen in years.

So that was fun, and she's lovely and grown up. Like, a real grownup. I mean she was three when we met, but that was thirty years ago.

*  The dogs were feeling neglected today, and I didn't realize how much until I sat down to write and Geoffie started to headbutt my knee. She has to jump in the air to do this, so it usually means she wants something.

I thought she wanted a dog snack.

What she really wanted was for me to pick her up and lavish attention upon her as she deserves.

Of course she does.

* I'm crocheting a simple area rug with a yarn made of fabric selvage (called Fettuccine by Lion Brand) and I thought I'd share cause it's coming out sorta cool.


* Yes, we saw the movie. THE movie. And I refuse to give spoilers, but I am going to voice an observation I made.

After the movie the question came up about character sacrifice.  Now this can apply to any movie, really so again, no spoilers.

But the person I was talking to was complaining that the sacrifice didn't have to happen because they could have done this or this or this instead and even if they didn't know if it would work as well as the sacrifice they could have tried.

And I found myself getting really passionate about arguing against this until Mate had to calm me down, and then he asked me why this bothered me so much.

And what I came up with was this, which I posted on Twitter:

For people who continuously search for plotholes as a reason for a character to not make a sacrifice, you are missing the meaning of what character IS. You can't technicality your way out of the Kobayashi Maru. You have to face it, or it isn't the Kobayashi Maru.

And I think we should all thank Star Trek for the Kobayashi Maru reference, because both timelines made us think about this in a really excellent way.

It's just that finding tiny plotholes as a reason a character sacrifice didn't have to happen is looking at storytelling in a really superficial way.  The best stories are universal, which means the plot vehicles that carry our characters to the universal choices are inconsequential. What matters is that EVERY SOUL can identify with the most basic of human dilemmas. To invalidate that choice because HooHa X doesn't necessarily work with HooHa Y and the Squirliedoo could be jimmyrigged into a Whoosiwhatsit is to completely overlook the fact that someday WE might have to make a decision in which we put the needs of the future generation--or even a person we love--over our own powerful self-interest.

And that making that sacrifice needs to be worth it, and it's our job to choose well.

Anyway... my thing to think about.

And I was going to go on, but hey, long enough already!

I'll DEFINITELY let you know when Dex is posted :-)

Amy

Yonder Star--A Pierce and Hal Ficlet

I promised y'all, right?  Here's the first road trip ficlet from Regret Me Not. 

* * *

"Huh," Hal said skeptically as he piloted his CR-V through the little suburban street.

"You sound disappointed."

"And you sound tired," Hal said, giving him a once-over at the light. The house was small and unassuming, and Hal wondered what he was doing here, when so much about himself was big and assuming a lot.

But Pierce's family was here, and he loved them, and Hal loved Pierce, and family was always sort of a test, right?

Hal really wanted to pass this test.

They'd talked non-stop from Tampa to Orlando, making plans, tentative timetables, hotel arrangements. Pierce was pretty handy with his phone, and Hal was forced to remember he was a computer engineer with lots of business cred under his belt. He'd certainly organized their next month and a half to within an inch of its life.

But they'd agreed--they'd mapped out the trip, they knew how long they were staying at Sasha's and about how long it would take them to get to Hal's parents and even had reservations for a week in New York City.

Pierce wanted to see the statue and Hal wanted to see Hamilton and Pierce wasn't sure he could get those tickets, but they had almost a month so he said he'd try.

Pierce, excited and planning their journey in the seat next to him wasn't any less wonderful than he had been when he'd ventured up the stairs to knock on the door and ask Hal to come with him forever.

But now they were here, at an average sized suburban house, green, with a shady oak tree in the front yard and probably a pool in the back.  Possibly an alligator in the pool--Hal had always hoped to see one.

But he was more excited about Pierce, green eyes fluttering closed, reddish-toned brown hair flat against his head as he fought off the effects of an eventful morning--and a really awesome night.

"Pierce? We're here."

Pierce sat up quickly and winced, then gave a self-conscious smile. "Here. Let's get the presents out, and my overnight bag and one of your suitcases--"

"Here, Uncle Pierce," Hal said with a wink. "Let me get the presents out and you can go say hi to that scary woman with the apron and the spoon." Her hair was a mane of curls--thank you Florida because nobody was safe-- and the spoon was covered in cookie dough, and Hal sort of loved her already.

"Sasha!"  Pierce's face lit up like Hal had seen when he'd been on the phone, and he had a moment's wistfulness for siblings he'd never been granted. He got out creakily, and Hal had a moment of hesitation. Did he need help? Would he stumble? A month of watching Pierce rehabilitate himself from someone wiped out with an hour in the water to somebody who could make it through almost a whole day and much of the night, and Hal still had moments of panic:

This person spoke to Hal's heart in a way no man ever had. God, let him be okay.

But Hal needn't have worried.

Sasha was small but just as fine-boned as her tall, lanky brother. Pierce wrapped long arms around her shoulders and hugged her tight and she waved the spoon over her head so she didn't get gunk on him.

"You made it! We started without you--I hope that's okay!"

Pierce pulled back and smiled, part of his mouth twisting higher than the other as he bit his lip self-consciously. "Is that cookie dough? Cause if that's cookie dough, I want that."

Sasha had a gamine little smirk, the counterpart to her brother's goofy grin. "It's amazing," she promised, and gave Pierce probably four-hundred calories of cookie dough in one swallow.

His eyes actually rolled back in his head, and Hal decided that yes, he'd be fine while Hal got the luggage.

"Wait!" Pierce said, disentangling himself. "Here--let me help. At least let me bear the gifts!"

Hal chuckled, and Pierce grinned and for a moment they were just them. "Yeah, yeah," Pierce filled in, "since we know your gift is a bear..."

Hal let loose an actual laugh and met Sasha's smiling face. "I can get it all," he said, but Sasha shook her head.

"Nope. You're a guest too."  She turned toward the still-open front door and cranked her voice up to Mom-volume with a single inhale. "Kids! Marshall! Come help get stuff! Pierce needs to go inside."

Pierce grimaced. "I'm really much better--I swear, Sash, I didn't just curl up and die there."

"I can vouch for that." Hal pulled the last of the bags, making a tidy little pile on the lawn. "Swimming, walks--the works. He was a good boy."

"Well, he always was," Sasha said softly. Behind them, a tiny herd of elephants clattered across the porch and down the stairs, and Hal lost Sasha and Pierce as a medium sized man and two smallish children came tumbling across the yard.

Fifteen minutes later the kids had carried the gifts and put them under the tree and Marshall had helped Hal with the bags to the tiny guest room with a queen-sized bed.

"You'll both be staying here, right?" Marshall was a completely average caucasian man--brown hair, hazel eyes, skin that would tan with sunblock and burn without. But he didn't bat an eyelash when he asked that question, and Hal was a fan.

"Yes--thank you."

"So, Sasha said a week, right? We've been looking forward to Pierce's visit--I hope that's okay."

"Yeah--we're moving on to my parents' the day after New Years--we sort of put together a schedule."

Marshall laughed and looked behind his shoulder, like he was imparting a secret. "Look, between you and me? Don't let him get too hooked on his schedule, okay? This thing with you? That's as spontaneous as I've ever seen Pierce. Keep it up!"

And Hal had a friend.

An hour later, Pierce and Sasha and Marshall were all talking in the kitchen about jobs and markets and things that made Hal's eyes glaze over. He stole a couple of cookies and wandered into the front room where Darius and Abigail were playing with their own Legos and looking with awe and respect at the Lego tree Hal had made from random blocks.

"Did you make this?" Darius demanded. "I don't see the schematics!"

"I made up the design myself," Hal said smugly. "Want to do another one with me?"  Because he still had Legos in HIS box.

"Yes!" It was unanimous, and an hour later Pierce wandered out of the kitchen, moving slowly.  Hal turned and patted the couch cushion behind him.

"Here--sit down," he said, trying not to fuss. Their whole relationship had been built on him cheerleading instead of fussing. But now there were people--kind, beautiful people, but other people--who didn't seem to be cheerleading him in the right spots. He should have been urged to sit in the    kitchen.  Maybe a lie-down before all the socializing. They'd stopped to eat on the way, but all the sugar wasn't good for--

"I've got some veggies and bean dip," Pierce said softly. "There's more in the kitchen, but you disappeared."  He held out the plate and Hal took it gratefully. Building Legos was hard work.

"Look, Uncle Pierce!" Darius cried. "Hal's been teaching us how to make trees! Mine has pirate heads for decoration!"

Pierce snorted. "That's amazing, D. I think you should show your mother that--she'll be so excited!"

"Mine has shoes!" Abigail cried, not to be outdone. Hal beamed at her. She'd pulled out an entire box full of Barbie shoes and he'd helped her run sewing thread through them and put them up as tiny ornaments too.

"That's truly amazing," Pierce agreed. "Go show your mom, and then they said we could watch some TV."

The kids got up and disappeared, and Pierce sighed and sank back into the couch. "Get up here with me," he said softly.

"Why?"  But Hal was already scooping the Legos into piles and putting them away.

"Because I miss you. I know we got all involved but I didn't mean to drive you out of the kitchen."

Hal finished scooping Legos and stood up, plate of bean dip in hand. In the other room he could hear the kids chattering excitedly and being rewarded with cookies.

HIs irritation disappeared and he sank gratefully into the couch with Pierce. "Your family is nice," he said, but that seemed inadequate. The kids had been a charming disaster, squabbling, one-upping--but also playing. Helping. Darius had praised the shoe idea to the skies. Abigail had helped him decapitate fifteen Lego pirates.

"I wasn't ready to leave our little bubble," Pierce told him, leaning against his shoulder. "I had you to myself for a month. It was heavenly."

It was...it was exactly how Hal felt.

"Your family loves you," Hal said as graciously as he could, remembering Sasha and the cookie dough and Marshall telling him not to plan and the kids getting excited because Uncle Pierce presents were the best.

"You love me," Pierce murmured. "That's still magic you know. We just said those words this morning."

And the disappointment at seeing the small suburban house faded away. The alienation of the grownup talk about jobs and income and taxes melted away. That feeling--that terrible feeling of being exiled from his lover's side to the kids table--it was like it had never existed.

"And you love me," Hal said, because he was right. The words were magic. And some magic spells had to be repeated before the magic became fully real.

"Course." Pierce snuggled against him. "The Barbie shoes were classic, by the way."

"All your niece."

"Heh heh--all Sasha."

But as Pierce's breathing got even and he sank into a much needed nap, Hal had to wonder. For all Marshall's warning, Hal had seen Pierce play, had seen him be spontaneous. Maybe the pirate heads and the Barbie shoes were a quiet gift from Pierce as well, just nobody saw it but Hal.

The thought gave Hal another layer of warmth for the man practically laying in his arms.

He melted into the couch a little more, finishing off the veggies and putting the plate on the end table so he could wrap an arm around Pierce's shoulder.

By the time the kids came out, Pierce was asleep against his chest, and he didn't stir when the kids turned on cartoon Christmas specials.

Hal was completely immersed in The Grinch Who Stole Christmas when Darius and Abigail crawled onto the couch too, Darius on one side of him, Abigail in his lap. For a moment, he sat, stunned, wondering why a child might possibly do such a thing.

But he remembered that Pierce loved these children, and they'd welcomed him when he'd been uncertain.

An hour later Sasha came out and had everybody wash up for dinner. The kids were put together a few hours later, with snacks and hugs and Pierce reading 'Twas the Night Before Christmas with just enough drama for Hal to wonder if he'd ever dreamed of being on stage.

And finally, they were alone together, in the tiny bed in the tiny guest room, listening to the unfamiliar noises in the unfamiliar room.

"Pierce?"

"Mm?"

"What if we want to change the schedule?"

"Okay."

"You're not going to ask how?"

"No." He was still tired.

"You're not curious?"

The chuckle in the dark reassured him. "I'm very curious," Pierce said, propping himself up on his good arm and facing Hal. "I mean, the kids sat down with plain old Legos and came out with pop art masterpieces. What can you do with an Atlas and a cell phone. I wait in awe."

Hal smirked. "But some of that was you!" he protested. "Those kids were bent long before I got here."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Pierce declared airily. "I never watched Coraline with them when their mother said no, and I certainly never played pirate execution last Easter when I was down here for a visit."

Hal frowned then, because Pierce had still been married. "Did Cynthia let you do that?" Oh, Hal didn't like his ex wife.

"No," Pierce said, voice sober. "Because I asked her not to come."

"Because why?"

"Because, baby. This is my family. And I know they're a little bit suburban and boring to you--but I don't let anybody near them I don't trust. And I was starting not to trust her by then."

Oh! And this made it all worth it. "But you trust me?"

"Very much. You were..." Even in the dark, Hal could see Pierce's face go soft. "Amazing. After you left, we must have paused half-a-dozen times, just to hear you play."

Not exiled to the kids table. Not forgotten. Listened to. Appreciated.  Trusted.

Hal had to swallow against the lump in his throat. He kissed Pierce instead, open mouthed, carnally, because it was Christmas Eve, dammit, and all he'd wanted for Christmas for his whole life was a Pierce.

They necked, kissing fiercely, until Pierce pulled away, grimacing. "Uh... Hal?"

"You don't want to have sex in your sister's house on Christmas Eve?"

"Do you mind?"

"No. But it might cut our stay short. Do you mind?"

Pierce's teeth glinted in the dark. "Do I mind that you want sex with me? No. No I don't mind that at all."

"But it will kill your schedule."

"I already said that's okay."

"But how will you know when to stick to the schedule and when not to?"

Pierce spread his hand on the base of Hal's throat, almost a neanderthal move from a guy who'd been willing to follow. "You're my star, Hal. I'll follow you. I can't go wrong that way, you think?"

"I'm your star?"  Oh Jesus. His throat practically closed up.

"Yeah. My guiding star out of mediocrity and complete averageness."

"So... your schedule, your phone--I'm more important?"  As he'd never been to his parents. Either of them.

"Didn't we cover this idea this morning?" Pierce asked, swallowing a yawn. "The whole I love you? Save me from myself? If myself isn't on the track that gets sex with you, then by all means save me!"

Hal pushed gently at his shoulder. "Shift over," he ordered. "So I can spoon you."  Because Hal was the bossiest and got to be big spoon.

"Fine." Pierce yawned again. "Is this a magic Christmas spoon that's as good as sex? Because you kissed me and got me all het up."

"And you didn't offer so much as a hand job, you prudish bastard." Pierce rolled over and Hal wrapped his arm around his middle, squeezing tightly. "And it is a magic Christmas spoon that's as good as sex, because you are a magic Christmas unicorn and just being with you is Christmas even when I'm exiled to the kiddie Lego room and you get to talk about death and taxes with the grownups."

"You know, you left early. How do you know we didn't start talking about cartoons and DisneyWorld?"

"Please. If you'd said one word about DisneyWorld, those two lovely angelic children would have been all over your ass with bribery and blackmail."

Pierce chuckled softly. "Well, maybe we can come back sometime and take them."

Hal kissed him between the shoulder blades and settled down to being sex-less but Pierce-ful for the next seven days. "I'll do that," he said, not because he couldn't live without kids like Pierce apparently couldn't, but because he was invited, and trusted and appreciated.

And because he was Pierce's guiding star, and Pierce loved his family. Hal vowed never to steer him away from them, because this moment here was maybe the best Christmas he'd ever had.

Pun-day and Fun-day!

So, we finally decorated the tree today--we were going to do it last night, but it turns out the Christmas lights were almost thirty years old and decided they weren't doing one more frickin' tree. After the kids' dental appointment, we went to Target--which was almost shopped out--and Squishy and I decided on the white lights with the big colored stars, and it worked out nicely.  Chicken and
I went out for dinner and came back and Big T, ZoomBoy, and Squish had done this--and I was so proud.

I told them to pick a Christmas movie. They picked Gremlins. Mate was also proud.

Well, only a little bit of fun-- but the following two conversations happened today:

ZoomBoy:  Did you hear about the security guy in the Samsung store? He was one of the Guardians of the Galaxy!

Me: Oh God.

Squish: What?

ZoomBoy: So, if you illegally download a movie in Jamaica, are you a Pirate of the Caribbean?

Me: You know, in some countries it's illegal to pun!

Squish: Well we need to stay out of those unpunny countries, don't we!

Me: *waves flag of surrender*


And this one, which I posted on Twitter, but which I will laugh about until the day I die...

Mate, over phone: Can we do the thing tonight?

Kids:

A brief recipe...

So, tonight was our night to go get the Christmas tree--it's currently hydrating in the appropriate corner, but not yet decorated.

I thought I'd share our goofy little tree adventure--and my recipe for Instapot Chicken Bake, which I started before I left and was done when we got back.

So...

A. The Christmas Tree lot we've gone to (when we haven't gone to Forresthill, was closed. Like, forever closed. But the guy--apparently a good guy, left the address of two other lots in the area as a recommendation.

B. We drove to Roseville for one of the recs, and I told the guy at the counter that he'd been on the banner in front of Abe's. He told me that apparently the guy in charge of Abe's was also in charge of supplying things like tents and portajohns and water stations for firefighters--that was his other business. Scarily enough, business has been really good, which is why he decided that this was the year to retire the Christmas tree operation altogether. FTR, the banner said, "It's been a good 60 years" so I'm going to assume this is a family business.

C. There is a business supplying the heroes who are currently saving our state. That is something you don't think about a lot.

D. There is also a business renting guinea pigs in Switzerland. No, I'm not kidding. It's illegal to only have one--apparently they die of loneliness. But I digress.

E. After choosing a really expensive Christmas tree (because hey, ALL THE TREES BURNED UP this year, so they were super duper pricey!) we stopped at Starbucks for hot chocolate. Now, Starbucks has seasonal hot chocolate, in four new flavors.

F. My family, being my family, we all ordered a different flavor and sat down for ten minutes and drank each other's hot chocolate and discussed the pros and cons of each one in depth. Because we're dorks.

G. For the record--cinnamon. It's a thing that should be in all hot chocolate. This was the consensus. Now you know.

H. We got home and Mate found the extra speshul laser light reflector that he bought two years ago, lost last year, and found again during a recent table excavation. FTR, it looks AWESOME.

I. And we got the tree settled, sat down, watched Lucifer, and ate.  Lucifer was STUNNING. And the chicken bake was awesome.

So here's the recipe:

This worked in the Instapot, which is like a crock-pot/pressure cooker and stuff gets done really fast. In a crock pot, I'd say give it about two hours. The Instapot is about 45 minutes.

So...

Fill Instapot with the following things:

One bag of frozen chicken parts (we like boneless, skinless thighs)

About five large potatoes, skinned or not, chopped or not, up to you

One medium bag of baby carrots

One cup of condensed mushroom soup

2 extra cans of water

One package of turkey gravy powder.

Close pot. Set on poultry. Come back when it's done.

Very simple, very tasty, and not even my kids wanted butter on the potatoes.

There you go.

Enjoy while watching devilish excitement while sipping your choice of hot chocolate.  Make sure there's cinnamon.

A Dead Sprint...

Okay-- so I am planning a Pierce and Hal ficlet sometime this week-- stay tuned for it, I'll hit up all the media outlets as soon as it's up.

Anyway--

Ambrosia has been coming over to work on my newsletter, and her visits aren't complete without her entourage. That's her boyfriend, Idris, and their adorable baby who I've featured before, and yes, they're gracing my disastrous house with their awesomeness.

Seriously--the. best. baby. ever.

And Idris is very kind to listen to me and Ambrosia speak in code all day and make himself and the squishy little bean comfy. (I love this kid--I treat myself to about fifteen minutes of baby holding a day, because mostly we're working and making hay while she's here, but... BABY!!!)

I look forward to showing more of that baby. Is all I'm saying.

And Friday was... well, a dead sprint.

Chicken wanted my help dyeing her hair. Berry Jello wanted to go to Michael's and do some shopping for a soap party she had this morning. I needed to go grocery shopping before picking up ZoomBoy and then going back again to pick Squish up from the bus that brought her home from science camp.

And then we needed a babysitter so Mate could drive me downtown for dinner with the Sacramento Writer's Group and a reading at the Lavender Library.

Would you believe we did ALL THE FRICKIN' THINGS?  Damn. Just... damn.

Anyway, Squish is home (can you see her super speshul sweater we got from Michael's? The eye slight up!)  The kids and I spent yesterday cleaning up the house while Mate and Big T went to help Mate's mom move.  And today was the soap making party (we made bath bombs! They're so easy! And so cool! And I want to make more and more and more!) as well as a King's Game. Squish and I made soap and Mate and ZoomBoy went to the game.

And then we all went out for Big T's birthday!

So... damn.

Just... ZOOM.

Like, barely time to write, zoom.

Like, where did those days go?  zoom.

Like... damn. I need a nap to recover from my weekend, zoom.

But Pierce and Hal are coming--I promise. *yawn* After I recover from the zoom.

Snark and Circumstance

Just a few random thoughts...

*  For the last few weeks as I've been getting dressed, Geoffie as watched me put my bra on, then stood on her hind legs and made little digging motions with her forepaws against my stomach. It's very playful, very adorable, and very much a pain in the ass.

And I had no idea where it came from.

Then tonight I watched Mate play with her, and he teased her until she sat up on her haunches and made little digging motions with her forepaws.

"You!" I said, laughing. "You're why I can't get dressed in peace!"

"Naw-- that's not what I"m teaching her!"  He put his hands behind his back. "See?"

Yeah, I saw. I saw her sit up on her haunches and try to find China through his stomach, THAT'S what I saw.

When I was done laughing he said, "Well, you gotta admit it's cute!"

Yes. It is. Really damned cute. Can't lie.

*  Squish is at science camp and I went to snuggle with ZoomBoy as he pet Steve on our bed.

"Hey, Mom--what's it called when you pet a cat without paying a fee?"

My eyes got big. My brain said something really inappropriate and I stared at my son in horror.

"I have no idea," I rasped, hoping against hope it wasn't what I thought it was.

"Petty theft!" he crowed.

"Thank God."

"What did you think it was?"

"Petty theft works. Good one son. Heh heh heh."

*  And that's about it!  Got a couple of reminders going on here--

--Don't forget to get your copy of Regret Me Not!!! 

-- Don't forget to sign up for my newsletter!  RIGHT HERE.   I'm thinking of having a goofy little giveaway for everybody signed up by next week. Should be fun!

-- Don't forget about Scorched Haven, which is RIGHT HERE on Instafreebie. 


-- Don't forget to check out the blog tour! Today's entry was on the magic room of requirement closet Mate and I created out of blind panic!  Tomorrow's promises to be failing Santa 101!

The Novel Approach -- a story from my childhood about the intrepid Mrs. Clause

Two Chicks Obsessed With Books and Eye Candy -- a story from our first Christmas with a baby--right before the baby was born.

Happily Ever Chapter -- A story about books and the happy introvert over a very crowded Christmas.

My Fiction Nook-- A story about my books again--and my favorite gift during a tough moment.

Love Bites Reviews -- And this one isn't posted yet, and I've totally forgotten which one it was...

Kimmer's Erotic Book Blog -- But this one (when it comes out) is about failing Santa 101!!!!

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words -- And this one will be about how now to fuck up your holiday with Crafting!

Boy Meets Boy -- And this one is going to be about giving yourself the gift you love the most. (Not that. Mind out of the gutter!)

Under the Covers (Link to come!) This one is coming out on Christmas Eve, and it's going to be a love letter from Santa from one of the characters. (Hal. It's gonna be Hal.) 

The Blog Tour of Christmas Past

So, Regret Me Not was released Monday, and as I've been doing, I sort of put my all into the blog tour.

This one was particularly fun, because I pulled out some memories that I possibly haven't blogged about--talked about some stuff--some happy, some sad--that you might not have heard of before.

I'll post as many links as I have to date--and I hope you guys take a moment to read them!

OH-- and in personal news?

Squish is on her science field trip this week. I"m a little sad because she's so grown up and really excited for her because... well, she's so grown up!  She was a little nervous this morning but when we arrived at the school, four other girls showed up to help her out of the van with all her stuff.

I think she'll be fine, don't you?

So here's the blog tour--enoy!

The Novel Approach -- a story from my childhood about the intrepid Mrs. Clause

Two Chicks Obsessed With Books and Eye Candy -- a story from our first Christmas with a baby--right before the baby was born.

Happily Ever Chapter -- A story about books and the happy introvert over a very crowded Christmas.

My Fiction Nook-- A story about my books again--and my favorite gift during a tough moment.

Love Bites Reviews -- And this one isn't posted yet, and I've totally forgotten which one it was...

Kimmer's Erotic Book Blog -- But this one (when it comes out) is about failing Santa 101!!!!

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words -- And this one will be about how now to fuck up your holiday with Crafting!

Boy Meets Boy -- And this one is going to be about giving yourself the gift you love the most. (Not that. Mind out of the gutter!)

Under the Covers (Link to come!) This one is coming out on Christmas Eve, and it's going to be a love letter from Santa from one of the characters. (Hal. It's gonna be Hal.)

So that's a lot to look forward to, right?

I mean, I know.

Blog tour, blah blah blah blah-- they get old after a while.

But I swear I opened up a Christmas vein and bled red and green for y'all-- I do hope you enjoy the posts!