We’re having a bit of a heat wave here in Ojai so I’m inside working on the book.

Actually it’s not even noon, and already 92 degrees. The weather has been odd since we arrived last month. One day it was 80 and sunny in Portland, and 55 and raining here in Ojai. Now that’s a strange twist of events. Even the fact that there is a nearly 40 degree swing in highs in Ojai, week to week, is nuts. Things are a bit topsy turvy. One day at a time is all we can do.

So since I’m frantically writing, and a few chapters in, I thought I would share the brief prologue here with y’all.

PROLOGUE

The blood drips steadily from the hammer clutched firmly in the gloved hand of the killer. The victim is dead, her eyes have that cold stare, straight up to the ceiling of her cheap, one bedroom apartment. She fell on her back, like she lived her life. On her back, as they say, “the oldest profession in the book.” One blow of the hammer was enough. The killer had no idea what it would take to snuff out life. It was easier than predicted. A life cut short by the consequences of the girl’s own actions. What a pity it had to be this way.

—

I read the prologue to Blue Eyes on the phone last night. On the phone because he is in Portland. He chuckled and said, “well, I think that will speak to your blog readers.” I’m good with that. I want the book to speak to all murder mystery lovers, but if a betrayed partner can get a little virtual satisfaction from it, so bit it!

Blues Eyes had flown from Ojai (well, not actually Ojai as there isn’t a real airport here) a week ago Friday to Portland to go “camping”(in parentheses as Blue Eyes doesn’t really camp) with his SA buddy, Bob (and Bob’s wife, what?), and then worked from the Portland office last week. Again, Blue Eyes makes some “interesting” (interesting in parentheses because I really just mean weird) choices that take him away from me on the regular. It’s okay, I can use the time to myself, wait… screeching halt, my son is with me here in Ojai, so it’s not actually alone time, but still, little breaks from Blue Eyes are good so we don’t drive each other crazy. Now, I was a little confused by Blue Eyes choosing camping in a yurt on Mt. Hood, and potentially fishing (spoiler: lake was still too cold for fishing) versus staying with me and The Peacemaker here in Ojai, but then I was doubly confused when I found out that Bob’s wife would be joining them? Strange. They ended up in separate accommodations, thankfully, both because staying in a yurt with another sex addict and his wife is odd enough, but Blue Eyes’ snoring, oy. I can’t imagine anyone else being able to sleep. I know I can’t without drugs and/or ear plugs. The solutions for the snoring saga have all gone by the wayside and Blue Eyes happily snores away each night while I find solutions. Classic Blue Eyes. So what did Blue Eyes do while “camping” in his yurt on a cold mountain in early May? In his own words, he “hiked, read, journaled, napped, and meditated.” Sounds like a good time. I know I should be really happy that Blue Eyes is much better at being by himself 11 years in to healing from addiction, and I am, but it still irks me a bit that he would rather “go camping with an SA friend” than be with me. I know, I’m a whiny old bitch. I hope I don’t die in my mystery book. Yikes.

After sitting down merely to share the prologue of my book, and then writing this, it reminds me of the time my younger son (child I guess I need to say now) was in middle school and lamenting having to write a 1500 word “essay” on something or other (sigh, that seemed like SO MANY words to him). I was like, wow, how can you keep anything at 1500 words. LOL.