Sometimes you make plans and then life happens… Such was this past week.
Monday was taken up with an eye appointment. Since my ophthalmologist is nearly an hour’s drive away, it took half the day. The rest of the day was getting everything packed and ready for my husband’s business trip, for which he was leaving on Tuesday.
Our kitty, Magellan, was sick, so I spent time trying to make him comfortable, even though the vet and I agreed he probably wouldn’t make it. So Tuesday was a wash.
Wednesday, I woke up and found Magellan had passed during the night. So Wednesday was busy and emotional, and everything got pushed back to Thursday.
I still hadn’t been to the vision center to order my new prescription, and it didn’t happen Thursday either. One of our other cats, Monster, began sneezing. Fearing she’d come down with whatever had taken Magellan, we had another rush to the vet.
At least she only has seasonal allergies. With the crazy weather this year, the pollen is really bad right now. She still has the sniffles, but she’s doing better. However, with the drive into the office, the wait time to see the doctor, and the drive home, there was another half a day wasted.
Friday finally came, and I got my glasses ordered and did some shopping. I tried to catch up on anything I hadn’t gotten to earlier in the week, but you know how it goes. As you push things back, it all multiplies for you.
So, I am writing, even with all of life’s unexpected twists and turns. I’m working on another book as Mellie Miller right now while Whiskey Jug Genie is in edits. Once Whiskey Jug Genie is out, and I get back to editing for Sultonna Nadine, you can watch for Lady Calloway.
I’m not sure of the title yet. I’m working on it. But I’ll let you know the final details after my editor and I get finished wrangling with it.
In the meantime, how about an excerpt from Whiskey Jug Genie?
Bubba came out wearing the new clothes and breathed in the aroma of the pizza.
“Whatever that is, I’ll have some of it.”
“It’s called pizza, and you can have all of it. I’ve already eaten,” Martin told the genie–djinn–standing in front of him.
“You wouldn’t kid a fella would you?”
“Not right now. Go on. Dig in.”
Watching Bubba eat the pizza was educational. As he’d apparently never eaten pizza before, he was at first hesitant. But one taste cured that. The rest of the medium pizza disappeared as if by magic, except for the leftover sauce around his mouth.
“How about something to drink?” Martin asked.
“Now that would hit the spot, for sure.”
Thinking before he grabbed anything alcoholic, he poured a large glass of filtered water from the pitcher and handed it to his new roommate. He could almost see the spiral swirl in the glass as Bubba drained the liquid.
“Got anything a little stronger?”
“Are you sure you’re ready for it?” Martin asked.
“I’ve been stuck in that damned jar for a couple centuries. I am definitely ready.”
“Ever had single malt scotch?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“You’re in for a treat,” Martin told him, mentally making a note to buy something a little cheaper the next day.
Bringing the drinks into the living room, he handed one small glass to Bubba.
“Now it can have a bite, so take it easy at first.”
Tipping up his glass, Martin sipped at the smokey tasting liquid and watched Bubba. Cautiously sniffing the liquid in the glass first, Bubba carefully took a sip of the whiskey. A violent coughing fit ensued, but no Scotch was spilled.
“Boy howdy! That is a little stronger than I expected. Of course, it has been a while.”
“What did you drink, before you were trapped in the jug?” Martin asked.
“Mostly moonshine. We didn’t have anything fancy where I was at the time.”
“Moonshine. Is that like home-made liquor?”
“Yeah, son. Where have you been all your life?”
“In England. Where else?”
“What were you doin’ over there?”
“Bubba, maybe you should take a breath and have a little more Scotch.”
Bubba sat uneasily in an armchair across from him, held his glass up for more Scotch, and took a good sized drink.
“The fact is, Bubba, we’re in England.”
“We’re–you’re–in England, not far from London. We’re in my homeland now.”
“Well, son of a gun. What am I supposed to do in England?”
“That is something we’ll have to figure out. Tomorrow. I had no idea there was anything, or anyone in this jug when I bought it, so this is all rather sudden. I need a good night’s sleep before I try to get this sorted. And we need some ground rules if you’re going to stay here.”
Looking for something to read in the meantime?
Go check out my other blog at melliemiller.com for books by Mellie Miller.
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