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*alarms blare*

There are only five more installments of the first draft in public!

For those of you out there who talk about writing a book or writing more or whatever – you CAN do it! Small bites. Little steps. One foot in front of the other. Good grief, I could write those all day, that’s how many of them there are.

Yes. I am fully aware that this sloppy mess of a draft is not a finished product. (There are several cringe-worthy flaws, not the least of which is the whole Fathers/Mothers thing. Ugh. Thanks, 1950’s brain.) Not the point. The point is that the first draft is always ugly, full of holes, positively riddled with thin ice and sagging floor joists. Once the first draft is done, you get to go back and layer over all those spots with your passion and your skills. I’m excited!


“Jackie! Jackie. I know you can hear me. Wake up,” Sharna’s voice penetrated the darkness of Jackie’s awareness. She expected to feel like a sore tooth in a socket, but instead she woke refreshed and energized.

“Did you do magic on me?” she asked. “Wait, did you kick his ass?” Jackie sat up fully and looked around for Edgard’s corpse. Instead, he stood with his arms folded behind her friend. He looked just as smug and satisfied as he had before she’d been attacked.

“I didn’t heal you, he did.”

“Yes, and let me apologize. Your sacrifice was necessary at the time.”

“Bashing in my skull and breaking my spine were necessary?” Jackie looked in disbelief from Sharna and back to Edgard again. “It’s not a sacrifice if I don’t get a choice, and —”
Sharna interrupted her, “Jackie. We know, but look,” she swept her hand to encompass the basement.

What had been a bare dirt floor was now blanketed in sprouting greenery. Sharna opened a fist under Jackie’s nose. Her hand was full of silver and purple pods in different sizes and shapes. “Seeds, Jackie! And we made them.”

“What do you mean, we made them? We, like you and him?” Sharna helped her to stand. Jackie noticed some of what she thought was dirt on her clothing were grain-sized seeds. She pinched them into her palm. “And, why am I covered in them?”

“Well, it turns out it takes Mothers and Fathers to make seeds.”

Jackie let the statement hang in the air before she crinkled her nose and let out a long, “Ewwww! Oh, I did not need to know that. You,” she pointed at Sharna, “had, did, made…ugh, never mind.” She shook her head, and then the full implication sank in. “Wait! That means you’re a Mother?”

Sharna smiled from ear to ear. “I know, right? I can’t believe it either, but it’s true. I wonder if all the girls being trained at the Mansion are potential Mothers. Edgard thinks so.”

“Edgard. Ah,” Jackie pulled at Sharna’s sleeve. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” The two of them moved to a far corner of the basement, being careful not to crush any of the burgeoning blooms. “Are you sure about this? What if it’s just another trick?”

Sharna frowned, “You don’t think I could be a Mother?”

“No, no. I mean, yes. I mean, of course you could. But…he’s not been particularly honest with you up until now. What changed?”

“Oh, Jackie. I wish I could show you. I can see everything! I can see your thievery like a spiderweb cast over your fingertips and toes, I can see your love for Ty like a pool of hot water in your chest, and I can see where you are afraid and what makes you excited. When I look at Edgard, he’s exactly what he says. He’s necessary. And, so am I.”

Jackie stared at her friend, “I’m happy for you, Sharna. I am. But, does this mean goodbye?”

(See you next week! If you want to read more of my words and see glimpses of my life, sign up for my Patreon. It’s only a dollar!)

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