#londonlind

[londonlind]

Here’s a snippet of my next story...

I’m having a lot of fun working on this novelette (or maybe it’s a novella!).  It’s about an outdoorsy woman (Samantha Bechtel) who inherits a property in the West Virginia mountains and moves in, intending to turn it into a summer camp... and her grouchy dairy-farmer neighbor (who, of course, quits being such a grouch when he realizes she’s the woman for him).  His name is Hank Campbell, and he is really fun to write right now because he’s so grumpy (but really hot)! 

I love spending time outdoors and wanted to use that in creating a longer work.  This past summer my SO and I took a trip to the New River Gorge area of WV and it was absolutely gorgeous!  There are so many small towns and little communities tucked away in the mountains, and a lot of great outdoor recreation opportunities... it’s what gave me the idea for this story.  Still trying to come up with a title, though. :/

Click the “keep reading” below for a story sneak-preview with Sam & Hank! 

I glanced down at my outfit again, trying to understand what offended him.  “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

He pushed himself away from the sink and came sauntering toward me.  I watched him approach, trying not to notice the swing of his hips as he walked; he stopped a few feet away and I raised my head to look him in the eye.

“You think you’re gonna come up here in your fuzzy jacket and your boots and the rest of your cute little outfit from the tractor supply and play camp?”  He asked, smirking.  “Where are you from, anyway?”

Finally understanding what he meant about my clothes, I bristled.  “I’m from the middle of the woods in Maine,” I said, narrowing my eyes as I looked up at him, “and I’m an outdoor professional.”

“Outdoor professional,” he repeated, raising his hands to make air quotes with his fingers.  “What, pray tell, is an outdoor professional?”

“It’s someone who didn’t buy their cute little outfit from the tractor supply,” I hissed, getting angry.  I hadn’t spent years of my life studying nature and trekking the wilderness with nothing but what I could carry on my back to let some guy in a stupid tractor hat insult me for wearing quick-dry pants.  “I have a degree in environmental science and I’ve worked for the National Park Service.  As a ranger.”

He raised an eyebrow.  “They let short girls like you be park rangers?” 

Gritting my teeth, I glared in response. 

He shrugged.  “Don’t pretend you didn’t know.”

“I’m not making fun of you for being tall,” I said.  “And I’m not making fun of you for being a farmer.”

“I’m not a farmer,” he corrected, walking away from me again.

I turned to follow him as he walked over to one of the pens, retrieving the flannel jacket he had been wearing when he came to get Rosie from where it had been slung over the railing.  “If you’re not a farmer, why do you have a farm?”

“A farm with cows,” I added quickly.  “Cows that are on my property.”

“It’s my dad’s farm,” he said, shrugging the jacket on. 

“Really?”  I asked.  “Because a second ago this was your barn, and they were your cows on my property.  You’re not a farmer?”

“I’m an agricultural professional,” he said, making air quotes again as he strolled toward the open barn door, not looking back.

“Are you mocking me?”

“Maybe,” he said, disappearing from view.  I scurried out the door behind him and had to awkwardly jog to keep up with his pace as he disappeared around the side of the barn.

“What are you going to do about the cows?”  I asked, turning the corner to see him opening the door of his pickup truck. 

“Nothing,” he said, getting into the truck.

“You’ve got to get them off my property,” I said, jogging up to the truck as he closed the door.  I got there just as he started the engine.  The window was down; I clamped my hands across the door frame as he threw the truck into gear. 

“They’ll be off your property tomorrow,” he said, rolling his eyes.  “Get your hands off my truck.”

“What are you going to do about them?”  I demanded, wanting an answer before he drove off.  I was right up on the edge of the truck, only a foot or two away from his face, glaring as best I could into his deep-set hazel eyes and determinedly ignoring the perfectly chiseled jaw I’d noticed underneath all the scruff.

Unfortunately, I reminded myself, he also had the personality of a wet cat.

“Nothing,” he repeated, reaching out to grab one of my hands and pry it off the door of the truck.  I flinched as his hand covered mine, not expecting him to actually make contact.  Letting go of the door, I tried to withdraw as he slipped his fingers underneath my palm, clamping them around my hand.

My pulse thundered in my ears, and I was sure all my blood had rushed to my head, turning my cheeks as red as the truck.  I tried to pull my hand away, but he held onto it tightly, staring at me with a smirk as he ran the pad of his thumb over my knuckles. 

“They’ll come up for milking in a few hours,” he said, his voice low.  “And then I’ll go mend your fence, princess.”

With that, he raised my hand to his lips and gently kissed the back of it, his eyes never leaving mine.  I stood there, transfixed as he brushed his lips over my knuckles, the light graze of his chin stubble against my skin sending an electric tingle up my arm.

“Your wish is my command,” he muttered, unceremoniously dropping my hand outside the window before laying on the gas.

[londonlind]

Novelette -> Novella

This novelette has turned into a novella... without really meaning to, I’ve written 13,000 words and have just reached the middle of the story.  Oops!

The good news is that it’s meant having a lot of fun with these characters.  I can’t wait to take Sam and Hank on their first adventure together--the snark is fantastic.  And we’re getting to the best time of year in the fictional town of Deer Run, WV... winter!  Everything’s about to get scenic (and romantic) up in the mountains. :) 

Still trying to think of a title... one will come to me eventually.