Mr. Write Now by Summer Wynter

Author:Summer Wynter [Wynter, Summer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-04-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

He groaned and rolled over. The loud, insistent rapping at his door had invaded his dreams for the last ten minutes. His head ached as if he had drunk to much the night before. He knew it wasn’t true. He knew that it was the consequence of not sleeping much the night before.

He checked his watch, groaned again, and made to get to his feet. He managed a half-hearted roll and fell with a thump to the carpet. Fortunately for him it was the very ugly shag carpeting left over from the ‘70s and the thick house fur shielded him from the bruising.

He got groggily to his feet and shuffled to the door. He ought to have known who would be standing on the other side. Rosa was dressed to kill, as usual, and her furious expression hinted it might be a more literal application of the phrase than usual.

She had her arms crossed over her chest and was glaring daggers at him. He groaned a third time and clapped a hand to his face. He’d nearly forgotten the anti-climactic romp around the city. He hadn’t been able to find her last clue, and she hadn’t responded to his calls.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.” She was shaking and he wasn’t sure if it was entirely from the cold. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

He stepped back and let her enter his living room. She kicked her shoes off absent-mindedly, glancing around the living room as though she suspected someone to pop up from behind the sofa and attack her. Finally her gaze zeroed in on the open notebook he’d set by the couch before going to sleep, and the multitude of paper wads he’d tossed aside. Some of them were false starts, and others scenes he’d decided to nix.

“What’s that?”

He stooped to gather his notebook from the floor and held it out to her. She eyed it with trepidation.

“Just tell me what it is first.”

“It’s the beginning to Winter’s Eve. It’s a Connor Valentine novel.”

Her eyes went wide and she snatched the notebook from his hand before he’d even finished the sentence. She backed her way into his armchair, not taking her eyes off the page. He gave a rueful little chuckle and settled back in to wait. She was enjoying herself, if the small smile on her face was any indication.

She kept reading for a long while, so in the interim, he fixed them both omelette. He made them both coffee as well, and took is precariously balanced load into the living room to await her verdict.

“Where are you at now?” He asked curiously. She was a fast reader. She was already three fourths of the way through the book.

Rosa didn’t look up, just continued reading, though she did read aloud for his benefit.

“Evangeline leaned her forehead against the slightly yellowed glass and blew out a breath. Her landlady would not appreciate the late night visit by Mister Valentine. Detective, she corrected herself. He was a detective now.”

He smiled and raised his coffee mug to his lips.

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