Follow my journey toward publication. Laugh, cry, point and stare-- it's all good. I'll leave a trail so that you, my fellow author, may have a straighter path to finding your own elusive publishing contract. Adventure awaits. Let's travel together...

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Kristan and Mark's Weedkiller Sashay

(Written by Jessica Patch, Jerri Harrington, April Gardner, Gary L Wade, Jamie, Paulette Harris, Therese, and yours truly, Michelle Massaro)

"What the heck is this?"


Kristan Gellar looked at the cup of mud and frowned. "Did you just go rake up some goo from under your truck and microwave it?"
Mark adjusted his Stetson and smirked. "What's a microwave, city girl?"

"Who you callin' a "city girl", Mark? You know I grew up here in Pampa, Texas just like you! You are just contributing to the misconception that anyone with a southern accent is 'dumber than dirt' by callin' this stuff coffee!"

Kristan slung the liquid onto the sidewalk then shook the mug until the last drop fell. "Thanks. You just saved me eight bucks."
Mark's lips quirked to the side in that endearingly familiar way. "How do you figure?"
She jutted her thumb toward the coffee-drenched cracks in the walk. "Won't be needing weed killer any more."

He chuckled. "You know what weed killer is?" He took her hands and rubbed her palms. She was thankful for the sun. It was easier to blame for the heat on her cheeks than his touch. "These aren't hands of someone who does manual labor, city girl."
She jerked them away, the thrilling heat replaced with flames of anger. "You have no idea what these hands are capable of. In fact, they're quite capable of strangling you!"

Catching her off guard, Mark pulled her into his arms and kissed her. And just as suddenly, he made a face and pulled away.
"Yeah, that really was some bad coffee!"

Mark threw back his head and laughed. The look on Kristan's face was priceless. He looked past her and his jaw dropped, "Get out of the way."

He picked her up and swung her body sideways behind him before he put her down. A coiled rattlesnake coiled near where Kristan stood seconds before. Disturbed by the ruckus,his rattlers sizzled in annoyance as he attempted to sun himself on the warm cement sidewalk.

"Those swing dance lessons you made me take finally came in handy!"


When she looked at him that way, his heart stopped and time stood still. He felt her spell spinning its web through his veins as he stood speechless, lost in her eyes. She looked down and he noticed her hands. "Well, pretty lady, I would rather be dancing with you than watching you strangle that snake with your hands."

When Kristan's eyes panned to meet Mark's, she realized for the first time that he was wearing a sneaker on one foot and a cowboy boot on the other. In the bright sunlight, she saw a stream of red run down the side of his sneaker.


Thanks for playing everybody! It's always a blast!

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