by Read below for an excerpt of my post: Barbie…Interrupted, inspired by time spent with my good friend Deborah.
An apple-scented breeze provided a second’s relief from the humidity enveloping the pond. Barbara’s waist-length hair hung heavy and damp, she wished she’d had time to braid it, but Ken’s recent cell call had been insistent. He’d be waiting in the orchard, with news too good to spill over the phone. Or so he’d claimed. Her heart swelled, pounding in her throat. Had he heard from her editor?
She skirted a downed limb and stifled a half-giddy squeal. Being married to your own literary agent had its bonuses. Be still my heart, she cautioned herself, it might not be writing related. She’d reached the orchard, jeans darkened to the knees from morning-wet pasture grasses. Pausing to catch her breath, she studied the crooked trees for a glimpse of him.
I hope you will go over to Writer…Interrupted and finish reading my story. It’s the first fiction I’ve posted on the web, and my first attempt at humor.
So be kind. *wink*
Laughing as I sign off,
Mary
