Two For Tuesday

We finished! We’re done! Class is over. One last hurdle to jump (the state’s home visit) and we will have a child. I am so giddy I can hardly sit in my chair. I know it isn’t important to anyone else in the world, but I want to shout it out and throw a party and I wish everyone understood how important it is to hubby and I. (Don’t tell him, but I’m still terrified!)

So, on with the Twofers. Super busy week again, but here is something that I wrote, recently:

A badge, clipped at the waist of well worn jeans, shone in the dim light of the lab. The gun on his hip made him look even more dangerous.
And right now I’m reading the absolutely fabulous Beyond Heaving Bosoms: The Smart Bitches’ Guide to Romance Novels by Sarah Wendell and Candy Tan. By the time I read the first page I was laughing out loud. These two are great, and if you haven’t visited their website, head on over. Here are a couple of lines from early on in the book that made me laugh, and even made hubby laugh, and yes, I know it is more than two lines, but I couldn’t help myself:

And then we get to the landscape of paranormals:” Vampires! Werewolves! Vampire werewolves! Mummies! Psychics! The undead! The reanimated! The demonic and the celestial! The slayers, the fey, the wee fold, the fairies, trolls, and selkies. They all fall under “paranormal,” which has its roots in an ancient Greek word meaning “overcrowded genre.”

For way more Two Sentence Tuesday, make the short trek over to visit the Women of Mystery!

Two Line Tuesday

I am re-reading Christina Dodd's Scent of Darkness (she has great love scenes!). Here are the last two I read:

The Szarvases were artists of some note - Sharon painted amazing landscapes; River and their daughter, Meadow, fashioned beautiful, magnificent workds in glass - and every night the floors of their rambling old house and their barn studio were full of sleeping bags and cots as other artists, young and old, came to learn and to serve as apprentices at the feet of their masters. The master artists used all their money to pay for food, blankets, heat and teachers for their students.

And the last two I wrote are:

The slam of a car door echoed in the quiet tree lined darkness. When the engine roared to life, Mariska spun and flipped off the driver. The window whirred down quickly, “You bitch! You really are a piece of work.”