Hens Lay Eggs
food for thought
“Come help!”
The Dragon Wore A Kilt
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nIn the northern reaches of Scotland rests Loch Saorach, home to an ancient legend—a dragon. The Matasan family has guarded the loch and its dragon for centuries. n |
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Excerpt
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n“Dear Lord, it’s an earthquake,” she muttered as the entire car shook again as though the mountain were trying to shrug the vehicle off its shoulder.
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nThen the earth gave way and the car plunged down. Maggie screamed. Like every silly heroine in every adventure movie, she screamed in terror even though she knew that screaming would help nothing. She slammed into cloth-covered metal when the car hit the cold, murky water.
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nFrom across Loch Saorach in the far northeast of Scotland, Connor Matasan watched in horror as the hillside crumbled beneath the car.
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n“Come help!” he bellowed as he shot out of his chair to run, run as though his own life depended upon it. His powerful legs and lungs
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nburned as he ran around the loch’s rocky edge. He nearly squeaked in terror as water rose and slid momentarily over the dark, scaly curve of massive and hungry monster.
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nLoch Ness wasn’t Scotland’s only body of water to boast a water monster; it was just the famous one.
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nConnor rounded a curve and leaped into the cold, dark, deep water—so deep none truly knew how far the loch’s bottom descended. The sinuous bulk of the monster bumped him gently. It would not harm him for he belonged to the loch as much as it did. But the driver of the doomed car could not be so lucky.
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nThe monster had grasped the vehicle in its toothy jaws. Connor swam past the monster’s bulbous eye and realized he had to surface for air. He shot upward, gulped a lungful of air, and then dove back down, following the monster and its prize. Every so often, the monster would shake its head, the violent swish of the car through the murky water leaving whitish bubbles and eddies of disturbance. On one of those shakes, the vehicle’s passenger side door flew open and the car’s sole passenger floated out. Connor hoped the mysterious and ancient water dragon of Saorach did not realize that its fleshy prey had escaped the metal shell.
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nHe swam around the monster’s lithe, snakelike neck and grabbed a bit of cloth. Lungs burning, he needed air—desperately. The lake monster stilled and fixed a bushel basket sized eye upon him and the barely discernible body he grasped.
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nConnor’s own eyes narrowed and he sent a warning to the monster to leave well enough alone.n
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You plan on keeping me #MFRWhooks
Focus by Holly Bargo
nEnemies to Lovers Billionaire Romance
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nProfessional photographer Dana Secrest has a secret and doesn’t even know it. When she storms from her best friend’s home on Christmas Eve—not the wisest decision she’s ever made—security contractor Sam Galdicar follows her to save her from her own hot temper and impulsive action. Upon arriving home, Dana discovers her apartment has been ransacked. Then an attempt is made on her life. She doesn’t know who’s trying to kill her or why, but Sam is determined to protect the woman whose eyes don’t need a camera to see the truth. n |
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Excerpt
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n“So, tomorrow …” I began as I slid onto a stool.
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n“Yes?”
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n“I’ve got to get a new laptop computer.”
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n“I’ll take you.”
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nI shook my head. I should have known he’d jump to that conclusion. “No, you don’t have to interrupt your schedule any more than you already have. I was hoping you’d lend me a house key.”
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nHe turned to face me, leaning against the counter. “No.”
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n“No?”
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n“Have you forgotten the state of your apartment?”
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n“No, of course not.”
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n“That was malice, Dana. The average, garden variety burglar doesn’t leave behind destruction of that magnitude.”
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nI blinked rapidly. “I suppose you’re familiar with ‘average, garden variety’ burglars?”
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n“I am.”
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n“How?”
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nHe shook his head and the corners of his mouth curled just a little bit. “You’re not going to distract me that way.”
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n“Look, Sam,” I huffed, “it’s probably likely that whoever burgled my home and destroyed it did so in a fit of pique because there wasn’t much of anything worth stealing.”
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n“I disagree.”
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n“You plan on keeping me a prisoner here?” n
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Not a happy camper
I recently created a vendor account on Guru, a freelance platform that resembles Upwork and Fiverr a little too much. I submitted a few bids. Then I got a response on this one:
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I addressed the items requested for the application, directed the potential client to my portfolio of writing samples, and clearly stated my rates. This person contacted me: had I written gay romance before? No, I had not. Of course, I assumed the prospective client actually read my bid. Would I be willing to write a short sample of 200 – 300 words? I took a chance. I’m an idiot. The prospective client liked my sample, but would I expand upon it, take the burgeoning relationship from attraction to sizzle? I expanded upon the scene, but didn’t go “all the way.” The second request made me suspicious. |
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I allowed myself to be duped. The prospective client asked if I would accept $100 for the 15,000-word novella. Um … no. (Actually, that’s hell no. Would you put in approximately 50 hours of work for only $100?) I stated my rates clearly in the bid. He replied that my rate was beyond what he was willing to pay. So, why did he ask for writing samples? Why carry on the conversation? Why not just proceed to the next quote from a low-bid writer?
We know why: he wanted to take advantage of free content of a higher quality that a low-bid writer hasn’t the skill to produce. I attempted to reply, but he closed the conversation. Guru will not allow me to respond.
I am angry with him and myself. He’s an asshole and I’m an idiot.
Another client for whom I wrote two blogs (for which he did pay) has dropped off the face of the planet with a draft of a third blog in his hot little hands. I’m not happy about that, either, especially as I felt we’d established that he could trust me and I could trust him.
To quote Charlie Brown: “ARGH!” I prefer to begin professional relationships from a position of trust. It generally works out and both the client and I are happy. But that’s twice this month someone unscrupulous has taken advantage of my good nature. It’s enough to make me change. I hate that. I don’t want to be that mistrustful, cynical, manipulative businessperson who plays hardball and is always looking for an angle to fill my pockets and to serve my advantage regardless of whom I trample.
I hope a client comes along who will restore my faith in the basic decency of humankind again.
Author
Hard boiled, scrambled, over easy, and sunny side up: eggs are the musings of Holly Bargo, the pseudonym for the author.
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Karen (Holly)
Blog Swaps
Looking for a place to swap blogs? Holly Bargo at Hen House Publishing is happy to reciprocate Blog Swaps in 2019.
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