Category Archives: Six Sentence Sunday

Hi there, Sixers! I didn’t get a chance to leave comments last week, so now I feel unbearably guilty. Imagine me, steeping in guilt all week. Sigh. Is that enough penance for you? But life goes on, so here’s another six. I’ve been revising the second of a pair of books that will be coming out with Loveswept early next year. This one is called MAN FOR THE MOMENT. We’re in heroine Katie’s head, pondering the mysteries of the hero, Sean. The closer they got to Buffalo, the more he’d retreated into himself, batting away the minor attempts at flirtation she’d made during what remained of the drive. Having arrived in the frigid north, he’d become colder than ever. Granite Man again. A great big hunk of frozen stone. She didn’t buy it anymore. If she poured on enough heat, he would crack. Thanks for visiting! As always, the other participants in Six Sentence Sunday can be found here.

Happy Sunday, everyone. Since last week’s six from Abandoned Christmas Novella was such a big hit, here’s six more about our hero, slab-o-charisma Carson, whom heroine Julie most certainly did not expect to encounter at the Portland airport, waiting to take the same flight she’s booked on. He was supposed to be off somewhere, Ceylon or Tuvalu or some other far-flung place, producing movies for National Geographic. She’d seen a few of them, seen an extra on one of the DVDs that showed Carson in the desert wearing fatigue pants and a sweat-stained T-shirt. He’d squinted into the distance as he talked to the show’s host, and he’d looked like he always looked, only better. Tempered by age and experience, but restless even on camera, pointing and bossing people around. That was what he was supposed to be doing. He wasn’t supposed to be standing too close, looking at her like she was a hill he’d forgotten to plant his flag in. Be sure to check out some of the other Six Sunday participants here.

Hello, Sixers! I’ve missed you. We’ve had a run of family emergencies, illnesses, and general malaise around these parts. Happy to be back. Today’s six comes from an abandoned attempt to write a Christmas novella. Don’t know if or when I’ll return to this particular project, but I liked these lines, which help introduce the hero. We’re in heroine POV, and she’s approaching him from across a crowded airport gate area. It was definitely something to do with his feet, or else in the set of his shoulders. Julie couldn’t put her finger on it, but the fact was, all he was doing was standing there, waiting his turn to talk to the gate agent, and yet he managed to look like a character in a Hemingway story. Like he ought to have a shotgun and a pith helmet, and he should speak in short, urgent sentences and shoot elephants for fun. But maybe she was projecting. Maybe he wasn’t really conveying as much testosterone-laden urgency as she imagined. Maybe she only thought he looked like a territory-conquering slab of rough-and-tumble male charisma because he’d conquered her territory, tumbled her rough, and left her without a backward glance nine years ago. As per usual, you can find the other participants in Six Sentence Sunday here. Happy browsing! It’s great to be back.

It’s Six Sentence Sunday again! Thanks to everyone who drops by to read and comment. Due to a slew of family emergencies, illnesses, and pinkeye (for the love of…), I’ve been a shoddy commenter the past two weekends, but I promise I’ll do better this week. This six is taken from a little novella I’m working on — target length 8,000 words, which will make it by far the shortest thing I’ve ever written. Short is hard, y’all. In this scene, my heroine, Taryn (yes, that Taryn — Tom’s sister from Ride with Me is getting her own novella, and I think also her own book), is at the Seattle airport, having a bad day and trying to shove a large dog in a small crate.   Betty whined again and craned her neck around to blow hot, horrible-smelling breath in Taryn’s face. Fear breath. Oh, man. When Betty got the fear breath, there wasn’t much hope of making her do anything she didn’t want to do. And all she wanted to do was cower in the bathtub, panting, or stick her nose in Taryn’s crotch and fall asleep. Which is exactly what Betty attempted to do, burrowing and snuffling and whining in the back of her throat while Taryn let out a deep breath and focused on the departure board so she wouldn’t have to think about the fact that there were stupid tears in her eyes for the second stupid time on this stupid, endless, awful day.   Thanks … Continue reading →

Hola, Sixers! This week’s six comes from my strangers-on-a-train-themed novella, Big Boy. I’ll be sending it off into the Editorland sometime late this month. In this scene, our heroine, Mandy, is thinking about her fifteen-month-old son: I love him with a ferocity that scares me. I once made myself retch thinking about what would happen if he died in a plane crash or got sick or abused. But having a baby is like having a bad boyfriend. Josh will kiss me one minute and smack me in the face with a sharp-edged block the next. If he could talk, he’d say, I need you, Mama. I need you so bad. Thank for visiting, all! Be sure to check out the other Six Sentence Sunday excerpts here.

Hi, Sixers! If you checked out this post before 3:40 a.m. CST, all it said was “blah.” Oops! My six today picks up on the climber book. You’ll remember that we left poor Jodi on a mountain in Patagonia, thinking, “Falling.” She didn’t actually fall, though. Now she’s got four points on the rock again, and she’s thinking panicked thoughts. A nasty fall, but not death. Not certain death. Not unless the rope got cut or she hit her head, broke a leg or a wrist, pulled Mika off the belay ledge and trashed the anchor . . . Her vision blurred. “Jesus Christ,” Jodi said aloud, rapidly blinking away tears. “Get your shit together.” Thanks for stopping by!