After a fabulous vacation, I’m back.

Of course, I’m trying to recover from the fabulous vacation, and I think I need another vacation in order to do so.  🙂

This week I’m going with my still untitled, still unedited WIP.  My imaginary friends Hudson and Beverly are not cooperating with me, and frankly I’m a little frustrated with both of them.

But onward….

In this scene, my hero Hudson is with his daughter Abby, remembering her mother…

Abby had the same warm brown eyes as her mother, yet they held love for him.  The last time he had seen her mother’s eyes, he remembered the irritability and discontent that had glowered from them as he fought to be a part of her life, and Abby’s.  And that was also the day the fissure in his soul had began  to open, leading now to the chasm he couldn’t deal with any longer.

It was difficult to think about the woman who had ate his soul, chewed it up, spit it out and then stomped on the remains every time he looked at Abby.  Yet, Abby’s gaze traveled through him and went beyond that point of agony to hit bulls eye on the sweet spot filled with nothing but love and admiration for the woman looking at him.

She came toward him, the spitting image of the woman he had loved so long ago, the woman who had crippled his soul.