I'm happy to say I did manage to get ten pages done this morning by the simple expedient of keeping my rear in my desk chair while the baby kindly took a nap. I have some serious expansion and revision to do before I forge onward, however. Total so far: 65 pages, almost 13,000 words.
Just for your reading amusement, here's the opening few paragraphs--and Larissa and Wendy are likely going to be annoyed with me for using the word "yelped" in a dialogue tag *evil grin*. Bear in mind this is a rough draft... I might delete "yelped" later, but then again I might not:-). This is copyright 2005 by Ellen Fisher:
"God, he is so hot."
Alexander Frost looked up from his beer to see his girl friend Jeri drooling over another man. Girl friend, as in two words, not one. She’d been his best friend since high school, but he didn’t have any claim on Jeri and never had. They were just friends. Even so, he felt himself bristle a bit at her blatant admiration of another guy.
"I don’t really see what’s so hot about him," he answered.
"Are you kidding, Xander?" Jeri turned dark blue eyes gone dreamy with lust in his direction for a second. He couldn’t help but wish the lust was aimed at him, but it obviously wasn’t, since her gaze drifted back to the other guy almost instantly. "His shoulders, his chest, his face... oh my God!" she yelped as the object of her affection turned slightly. "Check out that ass!"
"I’d rather not, thank you."
She ignored the comment. "That is exactly what I’ve been looking for," she said in a reverent tone that suggested she’d spotted a Michelangelo sculpture through the crowd.
"What, an ass? Hell, you can find one of those anywhere."
"No, you jerk. Pay attention, will you? I’ve been looking for the perfect man."
Alexander took a swig of his beer. "What am I, chopped liver?"
"Oh, of course you’re perfect," she said, absentmindedly reaching over and ruffling his overlong hair. He noticed she didn’t take her eyes off the other guy’s buns of steel. "That’s exactly why you’re my best friend, Xander, because you’re perfect. But it’s a different kind of perfect."
"Ah. So I’m perfect in an imperfect kind of way."