Merry Christmas: I give you Fic!
Over at my other blog, I've posted the last post prior to Christmas. Write What You Know: True Grit Edition where I discuss the history of Fort Smith (The town where I live and the setting for True Grit.) and how the author of the original book mined the local history for his characters and setting. (Yes, Virgina, there was a Rooster Cogburn. His name was Cal Whitson. And also possibly Bass Reeves, Heck Thomas and Frank Canton.)
Also, my publisher Yard Dog Press is having a holiday sale. During the month of December if you buy either Tranquility or Bride of Tranquility directly from the publisher, I will send you a free preview of the first two chapters of the next book in progress, It Came from Tranquility. (The publisher will take orders by phone. And she will take credit cards). You can find her other sales and deals here. My books are here. And if you like E-Books, Baen has a special on the Yard Dog Bundle. My books, plus the Four Redheads of the Apocalypse series for $20.
Finally, just in time for Christmas, I give you a Chance! Winchester fic. Albeit a drabble.
***
*thunk*
Chloe looked up from wrapping gifts in her office, eyebrows beetling. The sound came from the secret door. At about ankle-height.
*thunk*thunk*thunk*thunk*thunk*thunk*thunk*
She dropped the tape on the package and shifted her grip on the scissors to create an improvised weapon. Then she peeked through the trap door.
Chance's hellhound *irish wolfhound* stumbled backwards and plopped down in it's tail. A red bag with a green Christmas tree printed on the side covered his head. Red and green tissue paper stuck out of the open end like a demented clown's collar.
With a sigh, she dropped the scissors and carefully pulled the package off of the dog's head. Dog's tongue lolled to one side as he looked up at her with a sheepish expression.
"Chance!" She wrinkled her nose at the faint brimstone smell.
"Yeah mom?" Chance stuck his head through the door, his best innocent expression fixed firmly onto his face. For a five-year-old, it wasn't bad. But she recognized it from Dean.
"Did you erase the salt line around the tree?"
Chance froze.
Caught you! Chloe shoed dog back over to Chance. "Fix it. And don't do it again. Otherwise I'm putting you both in time out." Time out for chance was a chair in the corner. Time out for dog was the trap under the rug.
"Aw, Man!" Chance turned and flounced away. Dog followed with his tail between his legs.
"And no using a talky board to consult the spirits!" She yelled after him. "You do not get to find out about your gifts until Christmas!" Then she looked down to find out what present Dog had just attacked. It looked like the gift she had just finished wrapping for Lois.
"No sweater for cousin Lois this year," Chloe sighed. "I bet there is still time to order Monster Ballads online."
Also, my publisher Yard Dog Press is having a holiday sale. During the month of December if you buy either Tranquility or Bride of Tranquility directly from the publisher, I will send you a free preview of the first two chapters of the next book in progress, It Came from Tranquility. (The publisher will take orders by phone. And she will take credit cards). You can find her other sales and deals here. My books are here. And if you like E-Books, Baen has a special on the Yard Dog Bundle. My books, plus the Four Redheads of the Apocalypse series for $20.
Finally, just in time for Christmas, I give you a Chance! Winchester fic. Albeit a drabble.
***
*thunk*
Chloe looked up from wrapping gifts in her office, eyebrows beetling. The sound came from the secret door. At about ankle-height.
*thunk*thunk*thunk*thunk*thunk*thunk*thunk*
She dropped the tape on the package and shifted her grip on the scissors to create an improvised weapon. Then she peeked through the trap door.
Chance's hellhound *irish wolfhound* stumbled backwards and plopped down in it's tail. A red bag with a green Christmas tree printed on the side covered his head. Red and green tissue paper stuck out of the open end like a demented clown's collar.
With a sigh, she dropped the scissors and carefully pulled the package off of the dog's head. Dog's tongue lolled to one side as he looked up at her with a sheepish expression.
"Chance!" She wrinkled her nose at the faint brimstone smell.
"Yeah mom?" Chance stuck his head through the door, his best innocent expression fixed firmly onto his face. For a five-year-old, it wasn't bad. But she recognized it from Dean.
"Did you erase the salt line around the tree?"
Chance froze.
Caught you! Chloe shoed dog back over to Chance. "Fix it. And don't do it again. Otherwise I'm putting you both in time out." Time out for chance was a chair in the corner. Time out for dog was the trap under the rug.
"Aw, Man!" Chance turned and flounced away. Dog followed with his tail between his legs.
"And no using a talky board to consult the spirits!" She yelled after him. "You do not get to find out about your gifts until Christmas!" Then she looked down to find out what present Dog had just attacked. It looked like the gift she had just finished wrapping for Lois.
"No sweater for cousin Lois this year," Chloe sighed. "I bet there is still time to order Monster Ballads online."