The Summer Slog

(I know I use this picture a lot, but it just oozes summer to me!)

Lots of people talk about the winter doldrums, when they don’t get anything done because all they want to do is lie around on the floor. I don’t have that issue in winter…but right about this time of year, boy, the summer slog hits full force. Everything seems to take longer. I don’t want to leave the house (cause it’s hot, and humid, and it feels like my sweat is sweating.) And it’s just…blah.

You know what the worst possible thing you can be trying to do when the summer slog hits? For me, it’s finish a novella. Especially a Christmas novella.

Y’all, I’m struggling. (Thankfully, when I read through what I have so far, it doesn’t seem to be showing in the writing, so that’s something.) I want to be done with this so I can get to Zach and Amy’s book (A Dash of Daring, for those of you keeping score at home). And then I have so many other ideas percolating…I want to write them! But I know that’s just the ADD that comes with the summer slog. That insidious idea that if you just switch to something else, it’ll go faster and be wonderful and awesome.

Yeah. It won’t. I’ve tried it.

And so, I slog on. However, to combat said slog, I’ve put Kinsale Kisses on sale for $0.99 for a bit. So if you’ve not hopped a plane to Ireland to hang out with Rachel and Colin, now’s a great time to do that.

And also, since it’s Wednesday and all, would you like a little sneak peak at the start of my Christmas novella? Then read on:

Tori Spencer slammed down a stack of file folders and stood. Her chair shot back and smacked into the wall. If steam wasn’t coming out of her ears, it should be. Who, exactly, did Ryan think he was? She yanked at the bottom edge of her blazer and, teeth clenched, strode through the maze of low-walled cubicles to the offices that lined the windows. She gave a cursory rap on the open door and crossed her arms.

Ryan looked up from his computer and slid his glasses down his nose. “Victoria?”

“The Christmas light feature?”

“What about it?” Ryan took off his glasses and laid them on his desk before gesturing to a chair.

“I don’t do fluff pieces. You know that. That’s not even what I was hired for. Can’t someone else do this? Jeri? An intern?” Tori crossed the room but didn’t sit. Once he agreed with her and apologized for his momentary lapse, she was leaving.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shut the door and sit down.”

She furrowed her brow. The tone of his voice bordered on ominous. Huffing out a breath, she did as instructed.

“Look. This isn’t a fluff piece. It’s one of the most read articles during this season. Add in the fact that we’re doing a feature spread on one of the guys, Gabe Robertson.” Ryan pushed papers around on his desk until he unearthed a stack of orange sticky notes. He paged through them and finally pulled one off, offering it to her. “Here’s his contact info. He takes all the proceeds from his display and uses them to send Christmas to the troops deployed overseas. It’s a good special interest angle and is something a little different than the retreads we usually end up with this time of year.”

Gabe Robertson…no way. There was absolutely no way. Not like her college crush on him still lingered. But still. Tori shook her head, sending her ponytail swinging violently. “So get someone else to do it and give me something that’s worth my time. You know I’m a better journalist than this…”

“Can it, Tori. You and I both know why you’re working here instead of for a major paper doing exposes on politicians on Capitol Hill. So take your assignment, make some calls, set up appointments, and get me my feature.” Ryan’s fist slammed down on his desk, sharpened pencils rattling in the mug where he kept them.

Her chest constricted and she fought to keep her face straight. “Do I at least get a photographer?”

Ryan pursed his lips and stared at her. The old-fashioned school clock ticked loudly from its position on the wall. “You can check out a camera. I don’t have anyone free right now, but if you get me a good feature with decent snaps of your own, maybe I’ll send someone out for follow up pics.”

Heat washed over her. Now she was a photographer and a reporter? What was next? Doing her own editing? Nah. He’d never let a chance to wield his red pencil slip by. “Fine.”

“Good.” When she didn’t move, Ryan arched an eyebrow. “Was there something else?”

Tori stifled a groan. The set of Ryan’s mouth had her shaking her head as she stood instead of asking for a different assignment one more time. He was serious. Perfect. Just. Perfect.

“All right then. Close the door on your way out.”