Monday, August 31, 2020
Friday, August 28, 2020
They say you can't contain creativity. It's a kind of madness, in its own way, and isn't it fascinating to get a glimpse into a creative person's life?
This week, I asked romantic comedy author Linda O'Connor about her creative life.
Wednesday, August 26, 2020
Friday, August 21, 2020
Aidan Donovan stumbled down the long urban road that stretched from the wedding to his hotel. That's all it took in a city this size. No running for a train, hustling to a tram, no need even to summon a ride. Besides, he was too warm to sit in a stranger's car, too tipsy to make polite conversation about sport or politics. The wedding was too depressing, the night too thick and humid. The air smelled like rain, but he'd take his chances.
At the bottom of the hill, he reached the CBD, still lit and ambient with traces of night-lifers sparse throughout the streets. He elbowed a crosswalk button and yawned. He could get used to this sleepy town. Assuming this sleepy town wanted him.
When he was three blocks away, the thirst struck. It always happened when he had white spirits, but the bride insisted on a boozy toast before she let him leave. As he checked his watch, a warm, fat raindrop landed on his hand. He looked up and saw a convenience store sign lighting up an entire corner.
The rain came down sudden and hard as soon as he got under the awning. Couldn't have timed it better if he tried. The door buzzer sounded behind him.
"Good evening," the store guy called out, barely looking up from the video playing on his phone.
Aidan caught his reflection as he walked past a rack of sunglasses. He looked like shit under this light, but hey, who was counting? As he grabbed a bottle of yellow flavoured sports drink—actually, make that two—a nearby poster ad for a packet of chips gave him a taste.
"Excuse me," he called to the store guy, and pointed to the poster.
"Back there." The guy pointed to the far aisle, his voice blending in too well against the backdrop of the rain outside.
Aidan set his jacket and one of the bottles on the counter. He popped the other one open and knocked it back as he went off in search of his chips. As he rounded the corner, a flash of black and purple came careening through. Liquid spilled from his mouth as he yanked the bottle out of the way.
Next thing he knew, the front of his shirt was drenched in milk and salty-sweet electrolytes.
"I'm so sorr—oh my god, it's you."
Great. Of all the people he could bump into tonight, it had to be her. Her mouth hung open in shock as she blinked through her too-long fringe.
"I know the sign outside says 'two for one', but this was not what I was expecting."
"Did you spill something?" called the guy from the front of the store.
"I think I caught it all, thank you," Aidan called back, peeling away the wet fabric now sticking to his chest.
"Just let me know if you spilled something. I'll put a sign up."
"I'm so sorry," said Fringe-Girl.
She set the still-mostly-full bottle of milk on the floor and started patting his shirt down with her sleeve. The towel-fabric of her jumper made the whole situation appropriate and absurd.
"I don't know why I'm doing this. It's not gonna make you that much drier and..." She looked up to the ceiling. "It's probably gonna rain for a while. Do you have an umbrella?"
"Uh..." Did he look like he had an umbrella? "No."
She sighed, still clutching her shopping to her chest. "Look, I feel awful. My apartment's just next door. Why don't you come up and use the washing machine? There's a 15-minute setting and the dryer's really quick."
She was babbling. It was cute. When she gave an embarrassed smile, his shoulders relaxed. She seemed genuine, and she must have been pretty forgiving if she was willing to look past his snide remarks at the wedding. And who was he to refuse an invitation up to a nice girl's apartment. He was only in town for a couple more days. He may as well have a bit of fun.
"Sure," he replied, stepping back so she could make her way to the front counter. "Why not."
Wednesday, August 19, 2020
Whenever Laura Lee went to a wedding, she usually hoped to meet someone. And except for one time in her early twenties, she usually left disappointed.
This time, though, when she RSVP-ed to an old friend's wedding, she decided she'd go in with no expectations whatsoever. First of all, she wasn't even close to "little Sarah Simpson", who these days wasn't so little or even went by her dad's surname any more. Yeah, they lived next door to each other for six years when they were little, but they'd barely spoken in over twenty. Laura didn't know why she was even invited. She wouldn't have gone if her mum hadn't nagged her about going out of politeness.
The last thing Laura remembered about her former neighbour was running into her at a party of a guy she shared a class with at uni, a fully grown adult male still picking his nose and eating it when he thought no one was looking. This guy happened to be Sarah's boyfriend at the time. So Laura held little hope that anyone invited to this wedding would pass a compatibility test with flying colours.
Shame. The guy on my left is crazy hot.
Gwailo? Blue eyes?
Yes. No, brown.
Pass. At least you know he's single. The real question is WHY.
Monday, August 17, 2020
Friday, August 14, 2020
"Seeing Clearly" by Judythe Morgan
Darkness swirled in Evelyn Parker’s head. Dawson McKey’s voice drifted like a soft light through the blackness. She heard her name, the drone of whispered words, and other sounds she couldn’t identify. It was like trying to thread a needle, blindfolded.
She opened her eyes and reality came crashing through her haze. Hospital. Accident. David and Mandy dead.
A doctor lightly touched her wrist, checking his watch. “You fainted.”
Fainted? She never fainted. Not even three years ago when her husband died in her arms. “I’m fine. Where’s my grandson?”
Tiny bumps pebbled across her neck. Did she already know that answer? Is that why she fainted?
“Why don’t we go in there and talk? I can check that bump.” She searched his face for any sign of hope against the truth she feared.
Dawson, close friend and Parker Industry’s Director of Security, eased his arm behind her back.
Evie sank into the nearest chair. The doctor rubbed the back of her head. She flinched. “Everything looks fine.”
“Great. Now, about Michael, when can I see him?”
Dawson’s large, warm hand covered hers. She wanted to nestle into his heat, lean against his strong body, to hide until all of this went away. She stiffened her spine instead.
Evie planted her flip-flops on the floor with a thud. The clip-clop of the rubber soles boomed in rhythm with her pounding heart.
Dawson slowed his pace to Evie’s stride. He drew deep on years of training to keep his body language relaxed while his senses were on high alert after what the investigating officer told him. A witness reported another car clipped David’s SUV, causing it to careen off the road.
Accident? Not with the gambling debt David Parker had. More likely a deliberate act by the cartel.
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Wednesday, August 12, 2020
- The original name for Alice Springs is Mparntwe (Aboriginal Arrernte language).
- The discovery of alluvial gold (gold deposited by water) in 1887 led to a rapid rise in the town's population.
- Afghan camels were used to transport water and other essential supplies in the region from the late 1800 to the early 1900.
- Today's Australian feral (wild) camels are descended from these imported dromedaries.
Monday, August 10, 2020
Friday, August 7, 2020
Wednesday, August 5, 2020
Monday, August 3, 2020
Send my July newsletter on time (10th) Draft 2 chapters for The Guy From The Internet🤯
- Draft 1 chapter for The Guy From The Library
Maintain a schedule of 3 blog posts per week🙌
My goals for August:
- Send my August newsletter on time (4th—tomorrow!)
- Edit "The Guy From The Internet"—I really feel like this will happen.
- Watch a lovey dovey movie on Netflix
- Treat myself to avocado toast 🥑
"The Guy from the Internet" is now available on Kindle Unlimited. Enjoy this Australian sweet romance novella from the comfort of ...