I’m ba-ack! I’ve been not participating for a while as I got used to a new job that has me working night shifts now and then. I think I have a handle on it now and can get back to blog hopping. I hope so – I’ve missed everyone!
Anyhow, I’m posting from Hedge House, a nearly completed first draft. I think finishing it is going to be my project for Camp NaNoWriMo next month. I’m not quite sure whether to classify it as paranormal or urban fantasy; the two of them tend to blur together a lot for me.
Cara Hawthorne stared at the letter in her hands. She knew the address was right; for the last twenty years she had sent a gift and a thank you note every Christmas and every birthday. Her mother had not permitted more contact than that, and even after she had moved out on her own she hadn’t taken any steps to reach out to her paternal grandmother, had barely thought of her except at Christmas and birthdays.
But for the last several weeks she had dreamed of her, of a woman she hadn’t seen since she was seven years old.
She sighed, uncertain. A letter seemed so impersonal. She had her phone number, but was hesitant to call it. What did you say to someone you hadn’t spoken to in two decades? And how did you explain that you were calling because of a series of dreams without sounding like you’d lost your mind?
Before she could change her mind she slid the letter into the mailbox and got back in her car. She was going to be late for work and senior partner of the law firm was already unhappy with her – the dreams had been disturbing her sleep and interfering with her job.