Here we are: another day, another blog post. For someone who said they were going to cut back it seems I’ve lied. Maybe not a lot, but it seems the lie is there. I should take off some time, but it seems I can’t.
Anyway, last night was another thousand word night–just short of one thousand and fifty. Dragon had a bit more difficult time because I have a bit of an upper respiratory infection and there’s this hacking-ass cough I gotta deal with that doesn’t make speaking all that easy. But I muddled through and got my word count in after a little more than two hours.
Why so long? There’s the “compose in your head and figure out how you’re going to say it” part, followed by the “check to make sure what you said was actually composed,” because I have a bit of mush mouth and somethings things don’t come out as they should. Essentially I’m writing and editing, like I always do, only I’m doing twice as much as before.
That also means that since I’ve written twenty-five hundred words in the last two days, but I’ve only excerpted about a thousand of that, I’m ahead of the curve. I may even finish the scene tonight and get ready to move on to the next tomorrow as I don’t have anything keeping me busy these night save writing.
We have fine dining at the Eiffel Tower. And what else do we have?
(The following excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Three: C For Continuing, copyright 2016 by Cassidy Frazee)
“They only pulled a few, but I assure you it wasn’t something they did at the last moment.” Annie leaned slightly forward and lowered her voice just to touch. “I wanted a special anniversary dinner while we were in Paris, so I asked Mama back in March if she would make reservations for us on this night. I asked that far in advance because I specifically wanted a window table.”
She looked about the room. “This is probably one of the most sought after tables all of Paris, I would imagine there are more than a few people in this room wondering how a couple of teenagers managed this one.”
“You made reservations back in March?”
Annie nodded. “Yes, I did. After all, how many anniversaries are we going to have in the City of Lights?”
That brought a smile to Kerry’s face. “I hope more than just this one.”
Annie planned ahead–months ahead. That’s how bad she wanted this dinner and this table. Good thing Mama understood her daughter’s need to have a fancy anniversary dinner with her Soul Mate, ’cause that’s how they both roll.
But you know what makes an anniversary dinner complete? This:
She smiled as well. “I hope so, too.” She spotted a waiter and drew his attention by holding her finger in the air. Once they were at their table Annie addressed them in her most gracious tone. “It is our anniversary and I would like to celebrate properly. May we have two glasses of champagne, please?”
The waiter glanced from her to Kerry and back to her before giving Annie a satisfied nod. “Of course, Mademoiselle.”
Kerry did his best not to look shocked after the waiter left but failed miserably. “They’re really going to bring a champagne?”
She nodded slightly. “Of course they are. If they weren’t going to serve us the waiter would’ve said so.”
“How can they do that? We’re minors.”
Annie glanced out the window. “In France you cannot buy alcohol unless you are eighteen or older. However, there is a loophole when it comes to being served in a restaurant, because the law is specific only to the sale in stores.” She turned back to Kerry giving him a mischievous stare to accompany her smile. “And at a restaurant like this we are not about to be refused. We are seated at one of the finer tables, we look as if we fit in, and were not acting like children.” She tapped the nails of her left hand against the table. “Ergo, they’ll allow us one, possibly two glasses of champagne.”
It instantly struck Kerry that Annie knew entirely too much about this point of French law. “So you’ve had champagne before.”
She turned her head slightly downward and to the left while giving him the most quizzical of looks. “Do you have to ask, my love?”
He rolled his eyes upward. “I know: stupid question.”
“It’s quite all right; it’s not as if you should know.” Her demeanor turned back to a childlike playfulness. “I had my first glass of wine in Paris not long after I turned ten, and my first glass of champagne six months later when Mama and I had brunch in the city. I’ve had both a few more times since then.”
Yeah, Kerry: stupid question. Of course Annie’s had champagne and we discover she’s had wine as well. And all done above board with at least one parent present each time. Can you imagine Pavlina and Annie sitting down to brunch and drinking champagne with their Eggs Benedict? I can, and it makes for a cute picture as they converse about thing important–like, what to buy and, oh, have you seen that boy in your dreams lately? Yes, Mama–and, um, I told him I was a witch. You did?
And if you want to know a little of Annie’s history, that’s exactly the time and place where Annie spilled that she told her mother that The Ginger Hair Boy knew Annie was a witch: during brunch in Paris while they drank champagne. Mama probably needed a couple of glasses after that–
I did a lot of checking on the point of law about drinking in France and from what I’ve seen it’s true, though if it’s not I’ll fix this part and come up with another explanation about why the kids are tippling. Which I can do ’cause I’m a writer and making shit up is my job. Just let it be know that a couple of thirteen year old witches are having champagne with their anniversary dinner, and that’s gonna happen no matter what.
And what do you do when it arrives?
Kerry chuckled. “Must be nice.”
“You know I don’t like to talk about these things.” Annie glanced at the service of the table for just a moment. “Makes me sound like I’m bragging when I bring up these moments.”
“I don’t mind. In a way I live vivaciously through you.” Kerry reached across the table and lightly stroked Annie’s hand. “Just like you, it’s not your exploits that impressed me, it’s you and what you experienced. I would never imagine you bragging.”
Annie turned her hand upside down and slit her palm against his. “I know you don’t, my love. You understand my life.”
He nodded. “As you understand mine.”
The waiter arrived at that moment the two flutes of champagne, setting them directly in front of them both. Annie raised hers and held it across the table. “Happy anniversary, my love.”
Kerry clinked his glass against hers. “Happy anniversary, my darling.”
A sweet toast, that’s what. Because these two know how to bring the romance and this is just part of the deal. Imagine what these two are gonna be like when they get a little older and there’s that whole “Hey, we can have sex!” thing going. But that’s for later in their lives: tonight, they have something different in mind–