PBW Stories

Paperback Writer's Fiction Blog

Saturday, November 08, 2014


NaNoWriMo 2014 #8

Words: 2345 3072
Total Wordcount: 16054 16781
Pages: 10 14
Hours worked: 3 5 (no breaks one two-hour break for date with my guy)

Had a very good writing day on both projects, finished up early so I can go out on a date with my guy -- I might hit the NaNo novel again when we get back from dinner and try to get some extra buffer pages done.

(Added: Got in another four pages after we got back from our date; adjusted counts accordingly.)

Here's one of my favorite scenes so far:

Behind her the door to the room flung open, and a familiar voice uttered an oath not meant for the ears of a young lady. "Miss Maycott."

"Hello again, Colonel." She turned her head to smile at him. "I've had another accident, as you see, and I'm afraid I'm unable to rise under my own power. May I impose on your kindness again for some assistance?"

He was beside her in another heartbeat. "Did you faint again?"

"No, sir. I slipped on the rug." She stared up at the ceiling and frowned a little. "I had not noticed the lovely painting up there before now. Such pretty clouds. That one in the corner there is rather rabbit-shaped, don't you think?"

"I will have to inspect it later." Greville worked his hand beneath her shoulders and carefully raised her to a sitting position. "Forgive me, Miss Maycott. I should not have left you alone like this."

"On this occasion the responsibility is wholly mine, sir," she assured him. "I should have gone to bed instead of traipsing about the room."

"Yes, now I can see how it is entirely your doing." He tilted her head back to look in her eyes. "Do you feel dizzy? Is there any odd ringing or buzzing in your ears?"

"No, and no, sir." She felt the coils of her hair slipping down her nape and grimaced. "My only complaint is that my hair pins seem to have deserted me."

"That is actually helpful, for I must check your scalp," he said, waiting for her nod before he ran his fingers over her head. "When you were thrown from the rig, do you remember striking your head on the ground?"

"I believe I landed on my side and arm alone." She winced as his fingers touched a sore spot at the very back of her skull. "Oh, dear. Perhaps I am mistaken."

"Hold still." He moved around her and parted her hair. "You have a lump here; I would say acquired from this fall."

"I did land on my back," she admitted. "Your rug does not care for my shoes."

"I see." Greville picked her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed. "I will have it taken out and burned."

"Do you mean to do the same with my shoes? For then I would have to return barefoot, which would absolutely send my mother into hysterics. If the rest does not," she added as he bent over her. "Colonel?"

"I am removing your shoes to examine your feet. I will not tell your mother." He set about that, and once her feet were bare he set them on the floor and checked her feet. "Is there any pain in your toes or ankles?"

"None." She felt him touch the scars across her right instep. "Oh, that. It is unsightly, I know, but one cannot escape such marks when one is caught in a poacher's trap."

He frowned. "They do not appear to be recent."

"That happened on my seventh birthday." She looked wistfully at her foot. "I was playing hide and seek with my cousin in the woods near my home. Fortunately he heard me screaming, or I might still be out there."

Greville straightened. "I am going to prepare a compress for your head, and a tray for your luncheon. You are not to move from this bed while I am gone, is that understood?"

"After this I will not twitch an eyelid, Colonel," she assured him.

A minute after her host departed Anne promptly broke her promise and sat up. Carefully she felt the lump at the back of her head, and then eyed the white rabbit by the fireplace. "Don't look at me like that. I told him what a turnip-head I am."

The rabbit's nose twitched.

Anne closed her eyes and dropped back against the pillows. "And now I am hallucinating. Marvelous." She felt something fluffy against her bare foot, and glanced down to see a small brown rabbit cuddling against her ankle. "Oh, dear. You appear to be alive."

The rabbit lifted its head, twitched its left ear and hopped along her leg until it was within reach.

Anne's hand trembled as she held it out, and the rabbit sniffed her fingers before creeping under it. Its fur was like the finest silk, and stroking it calmed her choatic thoughts.

"I am sorry I doubted you," she murmured to the little creature, who wriggled under her touch and nuzzled her palm. "But perhaps you should go back to your burrow before you are found out."

When she drew back her hand the rabbit lifted up on its hind legs, blinked twice, and then vanished into thin air.

Now unnerved, Anne reached behind her head to touch the sore spot. "Just how hard did I hit my head?"

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