Well, that didn’t take long, did it?

I was too busy writing while I fell off the posting wagon that I didn’t even notice the bounce.

Sorry about that.

The downside to health issues coinciding with a distinct lack of funds is the immense amount of stress it places you under. I have surprisingly less time than one would imagine: I’m practically a narcoleptic these days, and what conscious time I do have is divided between Uber, child-rearing, and noveling. (I am still doing that, though woefully behind.)

Speaking of the Next Great Thing to Hit e-Readers:  I know it’s been a while since I posted any kind of snippet… who’s hungry?

“I hope you’re happy wi’ yerself,” Andy commented, watching as Jimmy, Murdoch, and Gavin rode off with the entire payload strapped to Ranald’s horse; Ranald, himself, still lay where he’d fallen into a rather undignified heap in the middle of the road.

Clenching his fists at his sides, Rab counted to thirty, took a cleansing breath and said, “It was your ugly face she saw, you lackwit. Now, stop your bellyaching and help me round up the horses.”

The English soldiers’ horses — having bolted during the initial skirmish, and things afterward having been too hectic to otherwise do anything about it — had been left to graze on their own meandering path through the distant heather. They snorted and bobbed their shaggy heads periodically, eyed the brothers with something akin to distaste, and then returned to nosing about the meadow.

Capturing them proved far more arduous a task than avoiding further bloodshed with the Irishman and his gang had done, which Rab would not have previously considered likely, but — in the end — three white mares trotted in a chain behind Nicodemus.

Andy grumbled about how long it would take to heal his bloodied face.

“In all fairness,” Rab said, inspecting the tear in his coat, “one can hardly tell th’ difference.”

Andy’s jab missed, he nearly fell from his saddle, and the result was that Rab managed to go until sundown before returning home to roost on the day’s failure.

It had all been going so bloody well, damnit.

Wish me luck… I’m trying to do a Star Trek word crawl I dug up on the NaNoWriMo forums!

Q’Pla!

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