Jai there! Part 2

Hey all-- first of all, I can't guarantee how long this will be, or how many installments--but I WILL keep writing them every so often.

Second of all, I don't think it's going to be a novel--but, like with Scorched Haven or some of the other ficlets it WILL end up somewhere, either on Instafreebie, OR as part of Fish 4 when it's done.

Third of all--DON'T forget to check out the new version of Regret Me Not in January, because I did the same thing and that's where all the extras went.

That being said, a little more of Jai/George. (I may keep calling this Jai There! because I'm just that big of a nerd.)

*  *  *

Jai crawled into the tent about an hour after George fell asleep. George was tossing, and still feverish, so Jai woke him up with some ibuprofen and crackers--and water, that was very important. By the time Jai had stripped down to his boxers and a T-shirt, George had stilled and was sleeping like the might-maybe-live.

Jai spent a few moments curled on his side, staring at the lump of his sleeping bag in the darkness. Such a sweet man--protests of a misspent youth aside. Kind. Funny. A nurse.

No. George may have liked men, and had the yellow hair, but Jai had killed people. He was not a nice man.

Still, he would enjoy hearing another person's breath in his space, just for the weekend.

That soothed, he fell asleep.

He woke up with a man-sized heating pad vibrating against his chest.

"George?"

George whimpered and shook some more, and Jai grunted, feeling his head. "And you need more medicine."

"Is that it?" George asked pitifully. "God. I'm going to get you sick. Shit. All you've done for me and I'm going to get you sick."

Jai gently pushed him aside so he could reach to the space above him for the bottled water and ibuprofen. "Here," he mumbled, helping George sit up. "Take some of this."  George swallowed convulsively, and Jai realized the moon must have been up and shining directly on their tent. "Now crackers."

George grimaced. "Are you--"

"Or your stomach will cramp some more. I could give you the medicine another way, but that is a little personal, you think?"

George took a cracker, eyes wide in the dark. "You're pretty persuasive," he muttered, swallowing. He took another pull of water, and then, voluntarily, another cracker.

"I am not a nice man," Jai said seriously. "I do not wish to hurt you."

"You realize those two statements don't fit together," George mumbled, finishing off the cracker. He waved the rest of the package aside. "I don't want to get sick again."

"There is a pot next to you--you see it? I set it there when I came to bed."

George chuckled weakly. "You have the instincts of a first class nurse."

"Or a world class mob enforcer." Which he had been. "Or an auto mechanic who cannot hold his sushi."  Which he most definitely was.

"Augh! Don't say sushi." George tried to wrap up in the fleece again, making so much noise and commotion that Jai sat up and turned on his flash light. "What are you doing?" George asked after collapsing miserably in a pile of fleece and tangled sleeping bag.

"Planning my attack. Stay still, small man." Jai unzipped the sleeping bag, ripped the fleece off, and laid it flat. Then he lifted George onto the fleece again like a child in a bunting, and wrapped him first, then got in the bag next to him and zipped it all up."

"That was impressive," George mumbled, sounding dazed. "You should be a nurse."

"Mob enforcer."

"Or an army medic."

"Auto mechanic."

"Hey, it's my fantasy." George rolled over so he was facing Jai and snuggled into his chest. "I might as well make you somebody I see every so often."

"I am no man's fantasy," Jai told him sadly, smoothing his sweaty hair back from his head.

"Tonight you're mine," George said with some dignity. "A guy who will take care of me. And make me smile."

Jai chuckled, the sound rumbling through the tent like thunder, and George rested his head against Jai's chest.

The next thing Jai knew it was morning, and George was snoring softly, huddled under the fleece still but not shivering.

Jai tested his forehead and while it was clammy, it wasn't burning up.

Good. His new friend was feeling better.

After quickly dressing so he could run to the nearby bathroom, Jai resurrected the fire and started boiling water for soup and hot chocolate. He made a coffee mug of chocolate for himself and a small thermos of broth, which he planned to take inside the tent. Just as he was twisting the cap, he heard George call his name in a rather small voice.

"Yes?"

He turned around and saw George, poking his head out.

"I need help to the head, man. Can you get me some sweats from my car?"

Jai grunted, squatted down at the tent's entrance and scooped him up, fleece blanket and all. He was not a small man, but still, no more heavier than he had been the day before.

"This is so embarrassing," George mumbled, but that didn't stop him from wrapping his arms around Jai's neck and resting his head against his shoulder.

"There is nobody awake," Jai said. "The campground is not full this time of year."

"That's cause it's fucking freezing," George muttered. "What brought you out here?"

"It was a place to come where my boss and his boyfriend didn't have to fuss over me, one that did not look like my apartment."

George gave a short laugh. "I was recovering from a breakup."

"Bad?"

A shrug and a bitter sound. "Stupid."

"What is stupid about it?"

"I said exclusive, and he said threesome. I said no way, and he said, 'Fine, Gary and I will find someone else.' And I said, 'Gary?'"

Jai couldn't help it--he laughed. Full fledged, from his stomach--from his toes, if the truth be known. "That is too bad. You thought he was your man?"

"I thought we were at least on the same page," George muttered dispiritedly. "I figured I'd come camping, since it was something Harvey never wanted to do--"

"You were dating a man named Harvey?"

"Don't start."

"No, no--I think it is fine you were dating a man named Harvey who wanted to have a threesome with Gary. So it would be Gary, Harvey, and George."

George groaned into his shoulder. "We can't all be giant Russians named Jai!"

"Which is probably a good thing," Jai said, to calm his ruffled feathers. "We are here. It is freezing in there--can you make it to the toilet alone or--"

"No," George muttered. He was shivering already.

It was strangely intimate, moving the blanket up to his shoulders and stripping his boxer shorts down. Jai left him alone for an appropriate time and returned to help him to the sink. When he was done, he scooped George up in his arms again, wrapped tight in fleece and took him to the tent. George was still tunneling into the sleeping bag when Jai appeared again with the broth.

George drank it gratefully. "You're really good at this. I think you were wasted as mob muscle."

"Possibly, but I am a very good mechanic."

"Do you like your boss better?"

"Yes. He is a good man. I have been helplessly in love with his boyfriend for over a year, and he has been nothing but kind."

George choked on his chicken broth. "In love with--"

Jai shrugged, used to it by now. "He is... small. And perfect. And I like yellow hair, like yours. And..." He frowned, not sure he could say this right. "He needs Ace. Like I need oxygen and large sized boots. I would very much like to be needed like that. But I was too late for Sonny."

Jai was sitting cross-legged on top of the sleeping bags as George sat up inside his end. George reached out then, and stroked his hand gently. "It's good to be needed," he said softly.

Jai shrugged. "I have always been the biggest, and the strongest. I've always had the scariest smile. My friends, they have hidden behind me, and my lovers have depended on me for protection--and for pleasure. It is a thing I am good at." He frowned. "Fixing cars too. Which makes me needed again." Suddenly he smiled. "I will work on your car while you rest. That way it will not die after you decide to live."

George nodded and put the lid back on the thermos. "I can't stop you," he sighed. "Maybe someday you'll find somebody you need as much as they need you."

Jai grunted. "I would not like that. It sounds terrifying. I think it's why I've had such a hard time finding a man as it is. Who wants to need somebody who could break them like a twig?"

"But won't," George said, yawning. "It's the won't that's very important. Don't go yet. Stay there."

"Why? What am I doing?"

"I need you here while I fall asleep. I'm sick and I'm sad, and I would have been all alone and freezing to death at the lake's edge if you hadn't stepped up. Just sit here and let me need you."

Jai grunted and made himself comfortable on his side. George curled up into the shelter of his body again, and Jai, good and settled now, pulled out his phone so he could play a game. George's breath settled, and he was asleep soon enough, but still, Jai didn't move.

George said he needed Jai.

Even for this moment, while George was recovering from what had apparently been the mother of all stomach bugs, it was a nice thing.

Jai would lay there and keep George warm and appreciate it while it lasted.

Jai Likes Him

Okay--

So I finished the SCB (Shitty Craft Book) which I have been working on for two weeks. It's twelve a.m., and I don't want to start my next novel until tomorrow. (ETA--I didn't finish this last night, so now it's 11:30 on Halloween night, and I wanted to give you guys a treat!)

And yesterday was sort of boring, but today was sort of busy.

So where does that leave me?

FANFIC!

Or Ficlet, really.

This one is sort of a fan favorite that I don't really want to give a full novel to--but who, I think, deserves some screen time. (Mostly because Parker and Jason whine a lot, and I love them.)

So, in Hiding the Moon, we find out a teeny bit more about Jai's personal life. Jai is Ace Atchison's employee, and he's well over six-feet tall, has a shaved head, a goatee, and a really disturbing smile. While he's rooting through his crappy Toyota for a stud finder so he can spot landmines, he reveals that he's seeing somebody-- but, "He's married, and I do not like him."

Jai is lying.

On all counts.

But then, he really doesn't know what to do with George.

*  *  *

Jai actually loved camping.

Originally he'd just found the gear at a rummage sale, and given that he'd only lived in his tiny apartment for a few months at the time, and Ace and Sonny weren't really paying him on the same scale as his former employer, the mob boss, he thought a plan B for a place to live would be a good idea.

Then he had it, and Ace and Sonny started giving him days off, and he didn't know what to do.

He enjoyed going to their place for movies sometimes, but not too much.  Too small, too much emotion, too much... Sonny.

He half-hated himself for his badly hidden torch for Sonny. Ace knew--Jai could tell. Every now and then, Jai would think about petting Sonny's yellow hair, just to feel it, but he would catch Ace regarding him, eyebrows raised in that handsome country-boy face, and Jai's cheeks would burn.

Ace knew, but he trusted Jai.

Jai, who had once fucked his way through an entire male brothel and left the boys panting and exhausted and done, had been forced to just stand there, next to someone who made him protective as a bear over a cub, and watch him be in love with another man.

At least Ace was worthy.

If Jai had any doubts, they'd been erased after Ace had killed the guy who'd attacked Sonny at their last race.

Dammit.

Jai would have killed him no problem--but for Ace, with his damned sense of chivalry and fair play to commit that kind of murder, well, that was true love right there.

So it was hard for Jai to go over to their place and watch movies. Finally, he decided fuck it! He had the camping gear. If nothing else he could sleep somewhere the walls weren't closing in.

He had a choice--mountains or ocean--and he picked mountains.

He was fairly competent and not a moron. He bought broken in boots, wore worn jeans, a sweatshirt he didn't mind getting dirty, and some fleece, and reserved a campsite by Lake Tehachapi.

He grabbed an ice chest, some beers, some hot dogs, and even remembered some sticks, as well as some tinned soup and the little camp stove and pot set that had come with his tent, bag, and the big egg crate meant to cushion his big body from the rocks.

Oh my God.

It was almost a science.

He even remembered a fishing pole.

HIs grandfather had taught him fishing, back in the Ukraine when he'd been a boy, before the gang, the recruitment, and the plane ticket to America that he'd spent twenty years working off before his boss decided he'd be better off with Ace and Sonny.

He was pretty sure his boss had been a murderer, and definitely a motherfucker, but Jai couldn't be mad at him.

Ace and Sonny's was not a bad place for someone like Jai.

He no longer had to break people's legs, but he didn't feel comfortable looking for a legitimate job with anybody else.

And look at him-- camping!

He was actually quite content.

He set up camp under the trees, enjoying the coolness of the mountains, and made himself a sandwich as soon as he arrived. Then he set off toward the lake, pole over his shoulder, tackle box in one hand, camp stool under his arm.

He didn't expect to catch anything, really, but he remembered that fishing had been relaxing, and nobody ever accused you of sitting and staring into space.

It was like fishing was a get-out-of-relaxing-free card.

So there he was, worm wriggling somewhere in the muddy waters of the lake, enjoying the sound of other campers bouncing off the surface, when the bushes rustled behind him.

And a water buffalo stampeded out.

Not really a water buffalo--a big young man, in his late twenties maybe, wearing jeans and a T-shirt and tennis shoes.

His face was almost green, and he staggered to the water and fell to his knees, retching a weak fluid into the lake.

He was so close Jai just had to lean over a little from his camp stool to rub the poor man's back.

He waited until the vomiting was done, and then reeled in his hook.

Worm was gone. Pity. With that mess in the lake, it wasn't like any fish were going to swim near for a good couple of days.

"You are okay?" Jai asked, mildly curious.

"No," the poor man groaned, collapsing on his stomach, thankfully a few feet to the right of the mess. "I'm not okay. God."

"Did you drink too much?"

"No! I was fine. Set up my site, feeling good. Then suddenly." He groaned and rolled to his side, holding his hands around his stomach. "Not," he finished, after it became clear he didn't have the strength to throw up again.

Jai was left in a quandary.

The man--blond hair, pale face, tall and rangy--looked as though normally he could care for himself.

Normally.

But not now.

Now he was lying in the dampness of the weeds at the edge of the lake, shivering, and not really wearing enough clothes even if they hadn't been wet.

Shit.

A year ago, and he would have gotten up and walked away.

But not now.

Not after being with Ace and Sonny for the past months. Not after Alba thought of him as a hero. And Sonny thought of him as a friend. And Ace trusted him.

Again, shit.

He stood and folded up his little camp stool, slinging it over his back with the strap, then grabbed the towel he'd brought just in case he'd gotten wet. He wrapped the towel around the man--tall, yes, but Jai was nearly six-eight--and then lifted him in his arms. He gave a thought for the fishing rod and the box and decided to come back for them.

"Your tent or mine," he asked brutally.

The young man--and his face looked really young this close--squinted at him. "I'm in the bed of my truck," he mumbled.

"This is not warm enough," Jai decided. "I have a four-man tent. And blankets. Come."

It's not like he had any choice. He was weak as a kitten. He didn't even struggle as Jai carted him the distance back to his campsite.

He did mumble, "Hey, what're you--"

"There is vomit on your clothes, and mud," Jai muttered as he stripped the jeans off and the tennis shoes with them. He left the underwear but took off the T-shirt with the soiled sweatshirt, and threw  the outer clothes outside the tent, all the better to rinse them off in the lake. "Will you throw up again?"

To his credit, the man thought about it. "No. Stomach cramps gone. I'd already lost most of  it in my campground. I just wanted to... God. Rinse off."

"Mm." Jai sat the man down on a bare spot on the tent floor, at the apron.  "Stay there. I'll be back."

He had no warm water, which was a pity. He did have a pot full of cold water set up on the camp stove for heating, both for hot chocolate and to use in the tub to wash dishes. He turned the heat on, grabbed a water bottle and a cloth and went back to the tent.

The man was sitting where Jai had left him, legs sprawled in front of him, shoulders slumped dejectedly, shivering in the cool of the shade and mountain air.

Poor man. "Here." Jai dumped some water on the cloth and handed it to him. "Wash what needs to be washed." He handed the man the water bottle. "Rinse and spit if you need to. I will be building a fire."

He nodded, and smiled weakly. Jai noted that he had a sort of narrow face, with a chin in a point, and cheekbones that weren't wide enough to make him fox-faced like Sonny. Still, it was a pleasant face--or would be if it wasn't waxy and pale.

"Thank you," the man rasped.

"Your campsite? The one with the truck?"

"Forty-two."

"Mm... the keys are in the vehicle? Do not worry--I shall simply move it here. Otherwise, you have nothing else to wear."

That weak nod, and Jai felt a surge of gratitude that he had been the one to pick this stranger up and put him in his tent. Otherwise, the poor man was a ripe target for thieves and murderers and mob enforcers without Jai's developing sense of conscience.

A half-an-hour later, he had found the campsite and repacked the man's gear in the bed of his battered, poorly maintained F-150 before moving it behind his own Toyota. Then he'd started building the fire in the pit, carefully, using wood that was seasoned but not too sappy. He'd brought some of his own--a bag of kindling and some logs from the local camp store--and it took very little time before the warmth from the fire pit infused the little camp space with some merriness and light.

And blessed warmth.

Jai walked to the tent and stood at the zipped up door, uncharacteristically tentative.

"Little puking man, are you still in there?"

"Mm.. Yes. Come in."

Jai had set up his bedroll by unrolling the queen-sized egg crate and then putting two full-sized bags zipped together, on top of it. They were made especially for someone tall, like he was, and he figured that way, he would have all the room he needed.

His little man was huddled inside the sleeping bags, on the edge, shivering.

"You are still cold?"

"Y-y-y..."

"Do not hurt yourself. I have some fleece blankets here." He pulled them out from under the foot of the sleeping bag. "I'm going to put these in with you, yes?"

The man made a little mewling sound when Jai unzipped his side of the sleeping bag, and it was no wonder. He was burning up. Jai wrapped him in the fleece quickly and then zipped up the bag again, squatting and holding his hand to the man's forehead.

"I have some medicine for this. You can keep it down, yes?"

The man nodded, still shivering.

"You'd better. Your gear is very much better quality than mine. You throw up in my bag, I shall sleep in yours."

To his surprise the poor guy smiled. "You're funny. I feel like shit and you're funny. It's like a gift. What's your name."

"Jai. Like 'Hello, my name is Jai.'"

Another smile. "George. Like my parents couldn't think of a better name, so they called me George."

Jai wrinkled his nose. "George sounds like someone who never gets laid. That is a pity."

George let out a dry rasp of a laugh. "It is indeed." He closed his eyes then and sank into his own misery, and Jai went to fetch him some ibuprofen from his car.

Jai made himself dinner using a soup packet and warm water. He'd been planning on hot dogs, but after cleaning up after George he found the whole idea unpleasant.

He ate his soup, cleaned up, and sat on his chair for a while, contemplated the stars and the embers, and feeling surprisingly at peace.

Until the nuisance in the tent had to have a say.

"Jai?"

"Yes?"

"It's sort of unnerving, you sitting out there all quiet. Can you... I don't know. Put on some songs or something? Or talk to me?"

Jai grunted. He had no boombox and he did not feel like talking.

But the poor man in the tent--George--was sad and miserable, and Jai was starting to feel obliged.

"Your truck?" he asked.

"Yes?"

"It's awful.  Who maintains it for you?"

"I change my own oil--"

Jai grunted.  "I work for a garage. T hey would make that vehicle run so much better. You are no good with cars. What are you good with?"

"Patients," George said promptly. "I'm a nurse."

Jai felt a moment's disappointment. "That is too bad. You are entirely too nice a person to be my friend. Why did you pick that profession?"

"Cause I was a shitty human being as an adolescent, and once I survived and saw how shitty I was, I thought I sort of needed to pay it back."

Jai grunted, immeasurably cheered. "Did you drink? Do drugs? Steal cars?"

"No. I was just really bitchy to my family--wow, you have a low bar."

Jai slumped in his camp chair again. "My family would understand those other things. Being bitch to them would get you killed."

He looked up at the sky, so vast and enormous.  It was like all that darkness divided him and his appealing lost puppy George.

Silly thought.

Lost puppy George could have a family or a girl friend for all Jai knew.

"George, do you have a girlfriend?"

"No, Jai. I'm gay."

Jai's eyes traveled to the embers banking in the fire pit. So much closer. So much warmer. So much promise.

"That is good."

"Why?"  George sounded tired, as though the conversation had wiped him out.

"Because you are pretty, and I like yellow hair, and you are not so good I cannot touch you. But later. When you are not sick and sad."

"Wow."

"You are scared now?"

"Sure. Watch me run."

Jai chuckled. "After you can walk. Goodnight, George. I'll be in shortly. Do not panic. I will sleep in shorts and a T-shirt so I don't terrify you. We will stay warm together."

George's soft snort could be heard through the fabric walls of the tent. "You're not that scary," he mumbled, but Jai only smiled.

When George saw him in the daylight, naked, he'd be scared.

But maybe he'd also be excited.

And maybe Jai would find out.

Wooooohhooooooo...

Look at poor Guest Dog Gibbs-- doesn't she look jealous? Soooo jealous-- she doesn't have a costume either. 

*sigh* Poor Gibbs-- we're going to have to buy her a costume so she doesn't feel left out. 

Chicken suggested a pirate since we have a lobster and a spider. Then she suggested a skirt--because her cat, Mrs. Poopy Butthole looks ever so fetching in one, and Chicken wants to share. 

Anyway, Something--she just looks so sad and alone without her own little lesson in humiliation, doesn't she?

So, it's getting to be that time again--I told ZoomBoy he should go Trick-Or-Treating and he was like, "Yeah, but when does it stop?"

I was like, "When your little sister declares Trick-Or-Treating passe, then we shall be completely done with the ritual. Until then, you will only get upset because you'll feel like you're missing out. 

And I have to admit--he and his brother had a good time decorating the house.

I know you can't see it, but back behind the pumpkin is a "cat mummy" that looks a whole lot like Gordie did, when he was alive. Since we've got three cats, a number of rats, a guinea pig, some fish and a hamster buried in that vinca patch there in front of the house, we do get a kick out of putting little plastic animal skeletons around it, with headstones. 

We are sick, sick people around Halloween.

I mean, just look at the poor dogs. I mean... sad. Just sick and sad.

I'm pretty sure Johnnie has ditched the lobster costume under the bed where he knows we can't get to it. 

*evil laugh*

We'll just have to think of something worse to put him in next year. 

Argh!

Putt putt putt... when you're pretty much out of gas.

So Friday had an unexpected climax.

I spent most of the day working--trying hard to catch up with ALL THE THINGS that don't get done when you're on a trip. My friend Berry Jello texted and asked if we wanted to go see her daughter in a local haunted house--and of course we did.

We did not expect it to take 3 1/2 hours of standing--not walking, standing--out of our lives.

Like, my thighs and calves were cramping so badly I almost couldn't walk through the haunted house.

The hard thing was, we didn't want to leave--she'd promised her daughter she'd come see her, and that's a promise you don't break, and Squish and Chicken and I knew that when we agreed to go on that ride.

I tried not to whine too hard--and it helped that I found a couple of breakfast bars that had been through multiple airports and were at that "easy sharing" stage. (i.e., they were in little pieces inside their wrappers.)

But it did sort of knock me out that night--not as much writing as I'd hoped.

Anyway--Saturday was walking the dogs and soccer--Mate and I were both exhausted by the time it was done, and today?

Well, it was supposed to just be taking Squish to the craft store, and I was looking forward to it all weekend. But I was tired, and I'd had to get T to do laundry and I didn't feel well and... *whine*

I was just out of gas. No real time last week to rest up from my trip, you know? No long naps. No extended moments sitting in front of the television, thinking, "Oh, yes... boredom... now I remember..."

So as Sunday draws to a close, and I try to make my word count, I'm sort of depressed.

I wanted to be more rested than this.

I want to have my craft book close to done so I could start on Paint it Black Thursday sharp, and honestly, I'm falling asleep at 11.

*sigh*

*whine*

Maybe I'll go to bed early tonight and hope for some more sleep tomorrow.

It really couldn't hurt, you know?

Honey Baby Sweetie Face

So, it's getting cold at night and the mornings are nippy--looks like it's sweater time, right?

Squish is getting entirely too old and sensible for Mom-wear, but ZoomBoy still treasures his sweater and the hat and mitt (yes, one, we don't know where the other one is) that go with it.

So this morning he put on all the Mom-wear because we were taking the cat to the vet on his way to school this morning.

Dewey just had a comprehensive and some vaccinations. He wasn't happy about it, but he went, and on the way from the vet's, ZoomBoy started talking about Dewey and how he worried just a little bit, because on the first day of school this year, he left three cats and came home just in time to watch the vet put down Gordie.

He got... upset.

He started to cry, worrying about Dewey, about his sweet, chubby, stupid Maine Coon cat, who just kicked back and judged things and lived to eat rather than ate to live.

I had to hold him for a couple of minutes in the front of the car, and finally he was ready to get out. He stuck his head in the window and said, "I love you, bye bye," before he did, because I told my kids that "I love you, bye bye" was the only control we had over life or death. We could let the people we loved know that we loved them before we parted. And hope for the best.

Anyway, e stopped to get a water from the back of the minivan, and while he was there I watched a car coming up the street behind us.

"Car!" I called out before he shut the hatch, and then looked in the side mirror just in time to watch him almost step in front of the fucking car. 

He didn't even see it, but my heart was in my throat and my eternal gratitude goes out to whoever was driving and saw that neon green sweater and thought, "Hey, this kid is probably flaky as piecrust," and slowed the hell down.

I told ZoomBoy this when I went to pick him up, and he was instantly contrite. "Oh, I did! I'm sorry Mom. Didn't mean to worry you!"

"Just... you know! You worry about Dewey crossing the street--how do you think I feel about YOU!!!"

This got me another hug, and then I had to go pick up the stupid cat.

The vet loves this cat by the way. They ask about Geoffie--which I think is hysterical, because she's THAT pet--but the whole office was like, "Aw... Dewey. He's great. Just sits there and chills. Doesn't even blink when we prod his bod, you know?"

"Yeah," I say dryly. "He's our honey baby sweetie face--always has been."

Anyway--the one thing they told us was that he seemed to be short on tartar. "We don't know what you're doing to keep his teeth clean, but keep it up."

"We feed him kibble," I said. "A WHOLE lot of kibble."

"Well, maybe not so much. He is a little chubby."

"Mmm... not gonna change that," I tell them honestly, and they let it be.

But I do have to tell you that as I was hefting his cat carrier into the car, me and Honey Baby Sweetie Face had a few words.

"You know, cat, if you're going to keep getting fatter, maybe we should put you on a leash for vet trips."

"Meow," he said, as if to remind me that he was, indeed, a cat and a leash was just crazy talk.

"Fine."

I wrestled the carrier into the car and brought him home.

"Here you are, ZoomBoy. Here's your Meep. Now do me a favor and keep both of you out of the street, okay?"

"Okay Mom. Sorry!"

Whatever. I'd been emotionally exhausted by my boy and his cat--it was time for me to settle down for my nap.

I'm home-- and there's a new release out!

So, super quick--Hiding the Moon is out, and reading reviews is sort of funny. Some people are like, "Totally functions alone--but you definitely want to read all the other books first!" Some people are like, "DEFINITELY read the other books first!"

I'm like, "Whatever makes you happy--but I was hoping Burton and Ernie could function as their own couple, like the other guys were just really interesting background..."  But I guess that's the difficulty of writing deep world stuff like that.

It's a crapshoot.

Anyway--it's available AT AMAZON and AT DREAMSPINNER and I hope you love it :-)

Also I'm home.

And that's pretty cool.

The dogs have been just insane psycho mutts since I got home.  Like jumping up and head butting me when I'm not paying enough attention. God knows, I love the little goobers, but the headbutts I could live without.

Squish has given me lots of hugs, and so has ZoomBoy. Tonight we talked about why revolutions don't just stop when it's time to stop, why they always go too far, and also why consanguinity helped destroy the European royal family in the early 20th century, and also Eddie Izzard.

Chicken stopped by at nap time (because of course she did) and we chatted about Halloween and plot bunnies and why she wasn't giving back the potato chip/onion dip crunch I'd given her to taste. (You take the last crumbs of potato chips from the bag, mix them with a couple of spoonfuls of onion dip, and eat them like potatoes. I'd be ashamed of doing this, but I never end up eating all of it. Ever.)

And Mate did a week's worth of dishes tonight, just to make me happy.

So yes. I've been missed. Now, if I could only catch up on my sleep.

Not Quite Home

Current Mood: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=VT-SFgkVlno&feature=youtu.be

Okay so more about the con—which was lovely—on tomorrow’s blog.
Right now, we’re sticking to yesterday, which had it’s moments.

Wake up in Virginia, 7 a.m.. Andrew and I dress and pack like PROS cause we know the routine by now. Check out, into the Mustang, and GO.

McDonald’s at 9:30.

Rest stop at 11:30–I take a picture of Andrew’s hands in the fingerless mitts I gave him, as sort of a thank you for doing all the driving. They look good. He’s happy. So am I. :-)

BWI at 1. *MASSIVE HUGS* because it’s been a rough trip and we have been staunch and faithful roomies and friends and I can’t imagine having the kind of trip we did with someone I didn’t get along with as well as Andrew Grey.

Get to BWI— find 4 o’clock flight has been moved to 6 o’clock. But I should still get to Seattle on time.

Get to Seattle after a little bit of turbulence and no food, and find that my flight is cancelled.

I literally can’t go home.

I rebook the flight for today, almost noon, get to the airport hotel just in time to see their food service close, and throw my shit on the bed.

Folks, I had no underwear.

I literally sent Mate a picture of a pair of rinsed out drawers on the heating unit to dry.

Which brings me to waking up in the middle of the night afraid I was going to die because the heating unit is apparently never used and the smell of burning dust literally left smoke in the air.

And I’m starving. Last night on the phone I told Mate, “I’m going to get to the airport early and go to McDonalds.”

He said, “And what?”

“And nothing. THAT IS THE END OF THAT STORY. Happy ending achieved. I’m gonna eat me some sausage, drink me some coffee, and pretend I’m home feeding bad shit to the furry assholes.”

“The miss you. So do I.”

“I miss you too.”

So cross your fingers for me, folks— I leave the hotel in twenty minutes. Hopefully I’m going home.

GRL Ho! But don't forget...

So I'm leaving for GRL tomorrow, and that's exciting!  I'm sort of hanging out on the quiet profile there, which is unusual for me, but I look forward to hanging out with a lot of friends I haven't seen in a while. So WHEEEE!!! I am, as usual, SO BEHIND on my packing--but I'm also so happy to go.

BUT when I get back, I'll have a book out before I can even post about it!  So I'll post now, to remind you, because this is exciting!

This is the companion book to A Few Good Fish 3, as well as Racing for the Sun--but (and I swear this is true!) I'm pretty sure it can be read on it's own. I mean it's great to know Ace and Sonny beforehand, and you do get up close and personal with Ellery and Jackson-- but Hiding the Moon is pure romance. It's when two of the most unlikely people meet-- a hardcore government assassin and a flaky psychic--and somehow fill in the void in each other.

I am surprised at how much I loved this book. 

So remember it-it's coming next Tuesday, and it should be a wild ride!

Blurb:

Fish Out Of Water: Book Four - A Fish Out of Water/Racing for the Sun Crossover

Can a hitman and a psychic negotiate a relationship while all hell breaks loose?

The world might not know who Lee Burton is, but it needs his black ops division and the work they do to keep it safe. Lee’s spent his life following orders—until he sees a kill jacket on Ernie Caulfield. Ernie isn’t a typical target, and something is very wrong with Burton’s chain of command.

Ernie’s life may seem adrift, but his every action helps to shelter his mind from the psychic storm raging within. When Lee Burton shows up to save him from assassins and club bunnies, Ernie seizes his hand and doesn’t look back. Burton is Ernie’s best bet in a tumultuous world, and after one day together, he’s pretty sure Lee knows Ernie is his destiny as well.

But when Burton refused Ernie’s contract, he kicked an entire piranha tank of bad guys, and Burton can’t rest until he takes down the rogue military unit that would try to kill a spacey psychic. Ernie’s in love with Burton and Burton’s confused as hell by Ernie—but Ernie’s not changing his mind and Burton can’t stay away. Psychics, assassins, and bad guys—throw them into the desert with a forbidden love affair and what could possibly go wrong?

Buy Link for HIDING THE MOON 

Buy Link for RACING FOR THE SUN

Buy Link for A FEW GOOD FISH 

Buy Link for RED FISH, DEAD FISH

Buy Link for FISH OUT OF WATER

Poor Mate

Once again, Mate got home exhausted, just when I was ready to stay up and work.

I sent him to bed, and sat down to my news feed and found something that made me laugh.

And I needed to share it with my Mate.

"Mate! Mate! Are you still awake?"

"Mmfffine, here, whazzzouwant?"

"No, I gotta tell you about this thing I just read, about people having sex in Disneyland, right? And they got stuck on the Pirate of the Caribbean ride, right?"

"Din you tell me bout this yessserday?"

"No! I swear! I just read this right now! Anyway, guy had his girlfriend go down on him when the Pirate ride got stuck, and the actor and the tech guy were just watching from the tech booth and they couldn't really do anything, and then they saw the girl about to spit over the side and--"

"Spitting is for quitters. Tha'ss the punchline. It's a fake story."

"Oh. Okay. Well, sorry. Just made me laugh. Wanted to share it with you."

"Mmmmmfffffff...."

I pat him. "Don't worry, Mate. Sorry. Won't bother you again. And I swear, I'll NEVER try to give you a blowjob on the Pirates of the Caribbean--"

Mate sits bolt upright in bed. "What? What'd I do! I"m awake! Do I need to get up? Fine! Fine! Whatever you need me to do--"

"Go back to sleep! It wasn't a threat--I swear! You'd be horrified if we did that in public."

"Oh. Yeah. I would."  He falls back against the pillows. "Are you coming to bed yet?"

"No. I gotta work."

"Fine. Go work."

"Sorry to disturb you."

"Yeah, whatever. I gotta get some sleep."

"Sorry Mate."

"Fine."

Honestly, I'm lucky he's still with me at all.

Long Weekend

Today was sort of awesome because we did very little. But yesterday...

Yesterday was a tournament, which meant we were there all day, cheering the girls to... well, we tied once. Yay! Other than that it was all, "Well, I don't know what happened."  *sigh*  The girls are fine, but Mate doesn't take it well.

Anyway, the day wasn't over when it was over.

Mate had tickets to a concert with his friends in downtown Sacramento, and the tourney was on West side.

Big T was begging us to help him with his laundry--he had to take a train to Davis today to see a play for his class, and he has a really full schedule.

ZoomBoy had been home alone all day, living on shredded cheese and pepperoni, and we needed to bring him something to eat.

Squish was dying for ice cream.

We had one of Squish's teammates whose family can't give her a ride in the back of the minivan...

So of course our only option was to drop Mate off, stop by the kids' apartment for laundry, go to Adalberto's for food, drop Squish off at home first, drop her teammate at her home next (that's just the order I was passing the house in, otherwise teammate would have been first), drive to the grocery store for gelato and then drive home.

Whew.

And collapse in my chair nearly two hours after the tournament ended and call it a day.

And then wait up for Mate.

Now something you should know about that stop for food.

The clerk at the window had given away all her fucks earlier in the day, and had no shits to give either. As we were waiting in line, one of the sodas Mate keeps in the car started to shoot soda all over teammate and Squish had to run it up to a trash can, still in her soccer uniform, and then shake her hands out and run back, and we didn't even get a raised eyebrow.

I ordered an everything burrito, and instead of, you know, making a burrito, they apparently dumped everything onto TWO tortillas and folded it loosely, like you'd fold underwear because why bother, then sort of drape it in crinkled paper wrap.

Squish pulled it out to take a bite on the way home because it was nearly eight o'clock and they hadn't eaten since 11:30 and it was as big as her head. She got a bite in and said she'd eat the other thing we ordered--it was like eating one of the dogs--not in flavor, mind you, just in sheer volume.

So Mate got home at 11:30 and he was... listing. To his right. In the extreme. He'd had four--FOUR--vodka and tonics and ZERO dinner, after a day like the one we'd had.

Four.

He was very sweet. (He's a very sweet drunk.) But I was like, "Can I get you something to eat?"

"What's this? It looks GREAT!"

"I'll put that on a plate for you... here we go... to the left... the left..."

"I know what I'm doing!"

"You're headed for the table. It's full. Now this way... through the doorway... there you go. The couch. We're all good."

"Mmm... this burrito... it's really amazing."

"Anything's amazing when you haven't eaten for twelve hours."

"It's like the best thing ever. And there's so mu...."'

And that's when he fell asleep, about eight bites into the burrito the size of his head.

I took the plate away and left the lights on so he wouldn't wake up disoriented, and went to bed. He crawled in with me about three hours later, with a crick in his neck. Apparently when you're as cute as he is, your only hangover glitch is (his words) "A really weird poop."  Lucky duck.

When I got up this morning, he was up, with motrin, finishing off the burrito and watching SNL with the kids. I got up, got dressed, said, "Taking the dogs out! Anyone want to go with me?"

And he said, "I was thinking I might go back to bed."

"You know, I thought you were going to go another way with that. I was just about to say, 'No, hon, it's okay, I don't need any company, you should get some sleep.'"

That earned me a laugh and a high five for superlative sarcasm.

And when I got back, the burrito had been completely devoured.

All things considered, it might be easier on him if we win a game or two at the next tourney--but I'm not counting on it.