I had hoped to have my first edit of In From the Cold done this weekend, but the boss roped me into working, so I doubt I reach my goal. I need to learn to say no. (Usually, I'm good at the no word, but not when it comes to extra hours on the paycheck!)
I've lost count, but I think Peppercorn is 16 weeks old. And completely full of spit and vinegar!
It turned colder during the night and the drizzle from the day before morphed into something more solid. The snow fell in lazy swirls, big flakes that covered the ground like a white blanket. Scoey was working the evening shift, but for the moment he was by himself in the old mansion. Marcus, Bets, and Honey were at their office, Lenny was on campus, and he suspected that Headphones was spending her morning at the bar. The soft flop of his stockings on the wooden floor was the only sound as he explored. He’d been here several times with Richard and Jay, but he’d only been in the basement and a few rooms on the ground floor. He hadn’t realized how large the place was.
Eventually, his explorations led him to a small parlor at the back of the building and the weight of the empty rooms pushed down on him as he gazed out the big bay window. He hadn’t bothered to turn on a lamp. He didn’t need to as the snow reflected the muted light coming from the grey sky, casting enough of a glow for him to see everything clearly. Most of the first floor had been remodeled but this small room was still paneled in the original pine, creating an ambiance of warmth and comfort. It even smelled cozy with the scent of wood that hung in the air from the walls, furniture, and logs stacked next to a stone fireplace. Well read books with cracked bindings overwhelmed the bookcases that lined one wall and a worn soft leather couch was draped with natty hand-crocheted afghans. Scoey ran his hand over the back of the couch and decided this was going to be his favorite place.
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