Well, word counts seem to be coming in okay. I ended Day 2 with about 3500 words, with the big 5K mark looming on tomorrow's horizon.
Not much in the way of "Get Me Put on a Government Watchlist" searches, but I did find out that it takes a dead body in a semi-confined space (like a small hunting cabin) about two to three days to begin to start visibly decomposing, on average.
So, since I don't have a lot in the way of entertaining searches, here's a quick snippet from Day 2.
“Are you going to answer my question?” Buffy asked. “When you asked if I was one of them—and saying it with what seemed like as much distain as you could muster—were you talking about local law enforcement, or the Indians? I would like to know.”
“You can’t call them Indians,” he said quietly, his eyes widening slightly in alarm.
“They call themselves Indians,” Buffy said with a shrug. “Who am I to tell them they are wrong? It’s even on the Reservation’s website. Now, answer my question, or I may just let Mr. Blackfoot do what he really wants to do. I don’t care if the FBI has the authority over suspicious deaths on the reservation, this is my jurisdiction.”
“Your jurisdic….?” the agent asked, again, his voice trailing off.
Buffy let out an exasperated huff and looked out the door to Red and Alex. “Are you sure this is the guy you were telling me about?” she asked. “He seems a little….”
“Brash?” Red offered.
“Scalp-able?” Alex asked with a playful twinkle in his eye he knew the agent could not see. Buffy tried to hide a smile when she heard the agent to her left take a sharp breath.
“Slow,” she finished. “I don’t know what kind of people they’re letting graduate out of Quanitco these days, but I can’t imagine this guy was at the top of his class.”
So, I'm supposed to write something about myself. Well, I am a Christ-follower, first and foremost; then a wife, now of 14 years; then a mom to a very busy almost-10-year-old; and then a writer. All of that, unfortunately, means my writing sometimes gets pushed to the back burner.
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