A Quick Story Before More Serious Musings

There will be much new to share over the next few days, including a Q & A that's almost ready, a cover reveal (actually two!) for the upcoming summer anthologies, and much, much more.

But first, I feel like sharing a little something that I wrote this morning in response to a thread started on AgentQuery Connect. Consider it a short story, even if there's way too much truth to it.

I heard feet, and they were getting closer. Soon a four-year-old was jumping in place beside me. Daughter number 2.

Time? Really, was it only 1:05? Felt later than that.

"Milk?" she asked.

"Oh, honey, it's beddy-by time. Sleepy time. Daddy needs to sleep."

She climbed into the bed, stuffed animal in tow. Maybe a little milk will help her sleep, I thought. I climbed out while she snuggled into my warm sheets.

By the time I'd returned with a little milk, my wife and daughter had snuggled closer. I wouldn't fit on the bed.

I handed my little one the bottle. "nk oo," she said.

I walked to the living room, where Riley the cat was snoring atop the couch. A little while later I heard my wife cry out, "Ow! Dammit!" She stomped out of the bedroom and into the living room, where I had been resting.

"You ok?" I asked.

"She just punched me in the eye. I was asleep. Nothing like being woken up to a punch in the eye."

She took the small couch.

From our bedroom, I heard the sound of our daughter jumping up and down again. "I'll keep tabs on her," I told my wife. "You should take the big couch."

"Mrrmrmfhgn" she mumbled.

I slid into my wife's side of the bed. At least three additional stuffed animals, including the four-foot-tall Elmo, were now in the bed.

I looked at the clock: 2:40. "Sleepy time, honey," I said.

"Milk?"