Happy Sunday! And for all of you in the UK, Happy Father's Day.
Please, please PLEASE read the AN at the bottom, it's very important!
A New Beginning . . . Again
A Thesaurus isn't a species of extinct dinosaur, you know. It's a book, which can also be found online, which provides different words to avoid using the same one over and over, and over . . .
So why don't these authors use a thesaurus? How many times does a character have to laugh, giggle, or glare? Can they do anything else? And why do eyes always twinkle or glisten? There's this thing called a vocabulary, and you can use it to expand your writing. Who knew?!
From what I can tell, as an author, you evolve and grow with time. So, your plot lines get better, but you're stuck with the same damn issues.
Words to avoid for this week:
Relish: This word should only ever be used for burgers, sandwiches, et cetera. Relish is a condiment. If you start "relishing" a body, then I think of a poor girl tied to a spit/hog roast (the food kind, not a kinky one) and covered in burger sauce.
Melt/Melting: You don't melt at a look being given to you. You don't melt into someone's embrace. Unless you're a witch and someone throws a bucket of water over you a la Wizard of Oz style. Or you're made from ice cream, which isn't likely.
Use that damn thesaurus!
Please. *pretty smile*
.
Days trickled by and we soon ran out of excuses for my parents, mainly my father, to not come round to my place. We all knew why Dad shouldn't be in the same room with Edward, but we had a reason for my Mom not to come, too.
After my birthday, Mom had made it her mission to try and weasel information out of me about my relationship with Edward.
When I'd explained to her on the phone, while I was in the bath, that Edward was sharing the water with me, she'd squealed for a solid minute and then bombarded me with questions. "Were we serious?" "Did he want to come for Sunday dinner?" "Had I met his parents properly?" The worst one was, "Did he satisfy my sexual needs?" That last question had me hanging up because up to that point Edward had been trying not to laugh but when he heard that question, he shut up and gave me an expectant look.
He should know that he didn't need an answer, but he was expecting one all the same. I wasn't in the best moods with him anyway, so I let him stew.
.
After a month of nagging, he'd persuaded me to up my posts on the website and be more 'visible' on Facebook. He just wouldn't shut up about it, and when his father stopped by the office he started on me, too! He was a nice man, a little stiff, but nice nonetheless. He was far better than his wife, who'd refused to come back to the office until I vacated.
So, with both of them breathing down my neck, I caved. I had to admit that I was having a lot of fun on the page. There were still a few people who liked to cause shit, but once Edward showed me how to block them, it was cool.
I didn't pay too much attention to 'likes' and such, just focused on having fun when I got on there. The website was going really well, too, and when Edward wasn't busy kicking the editor's ass over the printed issue, he was with me in my office while we brainstormed what else to write about.
Although writing about books and authors was good, he thought—as did his Dad—that I could branch out and find other things to write about. That discussion got a whole new list going, followed by questions put to the people following me on random social media shit. That, I didn't do. I left it up to God knows who to deal with the likes of Twitter and whatnot.
Now I was in the office while Edward was in a meeting. I had no idea who with or what it was about, but after last night and our lack of sleep, if you know what I mean, I didn't care.
We'd been together a month and hardly spent any time apart from each other. He'd even ditched his mother's demands for an all-day showing of him on Sunday. *sniff* My boy was growing up. Yeah, note the sarcasm there.
I had just finished up this month's posts when a knock came at the door. No one ever knocked, so I was puzzled as to whom it was until Edward walked in looking very sheepish.
"Do I want to know what you've done or what you're about to do?" I asked, raising a brow. I was already in dark clothes with no highlights in my hair. The last few days had been a drag, and I was tired and grumpy, so my clothes and hair matched my mood.
"I haven't done anything yet, I promise, but I do have someone in my office that I would like you to meet Princess," he mumbled. He never called me Princess at work unless he'd done something wrong, so I was on my guard at once.
"I'll be there in a minute, I need to finish up this last post," I answered then went back to looking at the computer. Is it lunchtime yet?
Less than five minutes later I was walking into Edward's office where I came face-to-face with a rather short, bald man who was grinning at me like I was a wet dream to him.
"Bella, this is Mr. Nicks, and he's got a proposition for you, for us," Edward said while I took my seat. On the desk.
"Mmh, okay. Well, I'm here for another ten minutes before I need to head out for lunch, so shoot," I said and started playing with the pen holder pot thingy on Edward's desk. I might have come across as bitchy, but being tired and hungry always made me cranky.
"Well, my publishing company has been following your Facebook page for quite a while, from the beginning really, and we've seen it grow quite nicely. We would like to see you expand further so I've been asked to meet with you in the hopes that maybe we could work together," Mr. Nicks explained.
I wanted to roll my eyes at him. He looked nervous as hell.
"And what would that entail?" I asked ignoring my rumbling stomach. I wondered briefly if I could get some chicken satay for lunch.
The man stuttered for a moment before Edward put him out of his misery.
"They have a book deal for you, Bella," Edward said, but before he could get it all out, I was already laughing.
"You want to turn my rambling shit into a book? Yeah, not going to happen there, big guy, not in a million years. I am, in no way, interested in a book deal." I continued to laugh as I got off the desk and headed toward the door. "Edward, I'm heading to get some Chinese, feel free to join me there," I called over my shoulder and left the room.
A book deal? What the actual fuck? I don't mind doing this website stuff for work, but a book? Hell no, no way. I don't want that in any way, shape, or form.
"Princess, I completely agree with you, so please don't chop my balls off, I'm kinda fond of them," Edward said behind me while I walked into the Chinese take-out place next door. I did roll my eyes that time, and possibly growled a little, too, but I could hear the sincerity in his voice.
Ignoring him, I placed our order, because I knew what he liked, and then sat down on their fake leather chairs to wait. I needed food and sleep, in that order. I was already skipping work this afternoon because I was expecting a delivery at home between one and six, so I hoped to crash on the couch while I waited.
.
Lunch was amazing, and it hit the spot, but the sleep wouldn't come so easy. Each time I'd start to drift off, the phone rang. Since the delivery guy was supposed to call before he turned up, I had to answer, and I couldn't unplug the phone.
I ended up calling Edward, almost crying down the phone while pleading with him to come and take care of the delivery so I could get some sleep.
He agreed, of course, and after four hours of deep sleep, I felt so much better. I went downstairs to find Edward cooking dinner, by the smell of things and laughing. When I walked into the room, I was transported to the Twilight Zone, because my Mom, Dad, and brother were sitting at the new table and chairs, laughing at whatever Edward had just said.
"I see the delivery turned up," I mused looking at the furniture. I don't normally purchase anything so big, but after Edward and I'd gotten a little too involved one morning, the table broke in spectacular fashion, and I had to get a new one. Figured to be safe rather than sorry we should pick out something with a backbone.
"It did. Your Dad and brother just finished helping me put it together," Edward said with a smile while I glared at everyone. The last I'd heard, Dad, wanted to kill, or at least harm, Edward for corrupting his baby girl.
"Bella, I took care of it all. Your father is fine with Edward now. As long as you're happy, he's happy. Right, dear?" Mom asked Dad, and I swear the last two words were a little forced out.
"Erm, yeah, sure. You're happy then I'm happy," Dad muttered.
"Princess, I know you don't like fish, so I've cooked you a cheese and tomato omelet, is that okay?" At the mention of tomatoes, I gagged something fierce and ran for the downstairs toilet.
"Princess?" was followed by, "My baby's having a baby!" which was followed by, "You knocked up my baby girl, you asshole!"
And then my brother, just because he could, added, "What a dude!"
While I was throwing up absolutely nothing, I tried adding things up. Dates, missed things, more dates. It all clicked together like an unhinged and dangerous thing.
Fuck.
My.
Life.
This was how it was always going to be. I know some will be put off by her pregnancy, but it's how the story went. I'll be taking a week off from posting, but then I'll be back with the remaining chapter (35 in total). These will cover so many things. Yes, the other characters turn up, Bella finally gets to confront Esme (so does Renee, hehehe) and SO much more.
So I'll see you in a week!
A little teaser:
We had just finished up doing a test, well, she had, and it was what we were guessing. I still think we should sue the company who believed it would be a good idea to put a smiley face on those tests. I'm not saying that I'm not happy about it, because I kinda am, but not everyone wants to see a smiley face mocking you.
It's like it's looking at me and laughing. 'Hey, Dude, you knocked her up, and now you're gonna sufferrrrrr. You have no idea how bad your Pregzilla is going to be!' I didn't need that. I'm barely getting through thinking about what her Dad is going to do to me.