Love is in the air...
Feb. 9th, 2010 11:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jl_merrowMmm, Valentine's Day does seem to be creeping up on us, doesn't it?
I've just been doing the edits for my story in the upcoming Torquere Press Shot Through the Heart Taste Test, Dead Shot. And I realised I haven't told you anything about it yet!
Dead Shot, like my story Aim Higher in the almost-released I Do Two anthology, has a child in it.
But there the similarities end. Simone, in Aim Higher, is a nice, if occasionally outspoken girl struggling with more difficulties than beset the average twelve-year old.
Kevin in Dead Shot, by contrast, is a ten-year-old, ginger-headed boy you really wouldn't want to be left looking after for any length of time. Particularly if you're misguided enough to let him loose with a bow and arrows...
Even before the wail of "Uncle Peeeeter!" was ringing in my ears I'd jumped up from the bench. I legged it over to where I could see Kevin, a frisky-looking border collie and last but not least, a tall, dark-haired bloke rubbing his right buttock.
You didn't have to be a genius to work out what had happened. "Kevin! Did you shoot this man in the…" I stopped there. It was daft, really, I knew Kevin knew all the words, and he knew I knew, but I still didn't like to use them in front of him.
"Arse?" the stranger suggested.
Kevin sniggered.
"Oh--sorry. Not used to having to mind my language, I'm afraid," the stranger apologized. He had a nice voice, quite cultured. At least, as far as I could tell after hearing him speak three sentences, one of which consisted only of a four-letter word.
"Don't worry about it, he probably knows more rude words than you do," I assured him. "Are you all right? Do you need…?" I couldn't think of anything to end that sentence with, so I left it hanging.
"Are you going to kiss him better, Uncle Peter?" Kevin put in.
I've just been doing the edits for my story in the upcoming Torquere Press Shot Through the Heart Taste Test, Dead Shot. And I realised I haven't told you anything about it yet!
Dead Shot, like my story Aim Higher in the almost-released I Do Two anthology, has a child in it.
But there the similarities end. Simone, in Aim Higher, is a nice, if occasionally outspoken girl struggling with more difficulties than beset the average twelve-year old.
Kevin in Dead Shot, by contrast, is a ten-year-old, ginger-headed boy you really wouldn't want to be left looking after for any length of time. Particularly if you're misguided enough to let him loose with a bow and arrows...
Even before the wail of "Uncle Peeeeter!" was ringing in my ears I'd jumped up from the bench. I legged it over to where I could see Kevin, a frisky-looking border collie and last but not least, a tall, dark-haired bloke rubbing his right buttock.
You didn't have to be a genius to work out what had happened. "Kevin! Did you shoot this man in the…" I stopped there. It was daft, really, I knew Kevin knew all the words, and he knew I knew, but I still didn't like to use them in front of him.
"Arse?" the stranger suggested.
Kevin sniggered.
"Oh--sorry. Not used to having to mind my language, I'm afraid," the stranger apologized. He had a nice voice, quite cultured. At least, as far as I could tell after hearing him speak three sentences, one of which consisted only of a four-letter word.
"Don't worry about it, he probably knows more rude words than you do," I assured him. "Are you all right? Do you need…?" I couldn't think of anything to end that sentence with, so I left it hanging.
"Are you going to kiss him better, Uncle Peter?" Kevin put in.
