Set in the world of cat shows, a mystery, and here I am plopping you right in the middle of the whole darned thing (right in the middle of the 1990's cat show world):
“Oh, Dahling, I had no idea you were this forceful,” Tish murmured in my ear. “Quite luvely, actually. Dottie gave me no clue.”
“Oh, Darling, before you arrived today I had no idea you were a man, much less gay, actually,” I simpered back insincerely.
Tish’s head whipped up, he regarded me solemnly for a moment, and then a big grin split his face and I got a glimpse of a gold tooth. “Oh, Sweetheart, Dottie likes you, but does she really know just what you’re made of?”
“Hell, Tish, I don’t know what I’m made of, but I think we’re going to find out together. How does that suit you?”
“Like my favorite Calvin Klein jeans,” he replied.
To write, or not to write?
4 comments:
Finish! I've been waiting and waiting for you to finish it!
Btw, my word verification is flessets, if that's not a word a should be!
And it should mean finish your book please!
Hey Les,
I would ask, are you enjoying this, or is it a chore that you dread?
Barrie
Well, ya got me hooked. Finish, already! heh
Thanks for the support, ladies. Watch your email. You inspired me to go back to the beginning (which I lost, literally; the diskette that contained the whole first section of the novel disappeared in an office move). Sending you the brand, spanking new prologue.
You inspired me!
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