Did you ever notice how assassination starts with two asses? There could be a very good reason for that.

We just get used to this Deirdre Munro when, lo and behold, we find two more short story characters in here. No shit! I kid you not. There’s a Polly McDowell and a Nora Butler wandering around as though in zombie states. It’s kind of creepy, like they are there but not all the way or something. But I don’t think the author has sold out to concoct zombie fiction, but I’ve learned never, ever to trust an author. Okay, except maybe with my life.

Maybe this kind-of-not-all-there thing is because that’s how they are in the stories she’s working on. Or maybe that’s what it looks like when one goes from character sketch to full-blown character. I don’t know. … Holy shit, maybe that’s what it looked like when I came into being! I don’t know for sure. … But, I would bet a life savings of DWD bucks that that was not how it was with Claudia. The green-eyed beauty would have existed completely, perfectly as soon as there was even the slightest flicker in my brain stem. Otherwise, there would truly not have been a flicker in me at all.

Anyway, the author’s got a couple more stories in the works, and in the meantime, LAC 13 just kind of gasps there on the page.

Oh, an idea! An idea! What would happen if I merely cut/pasted a few paragraphs of the rough draft? Ha, a publicly posted rough draft would get her ass in gear!

Very bravely and with great determination, Maggie rapped on the door of the Crawford-McCallister homestead. “Nobody lose your nerve,” she ordered.

I took a deep breath and watched Kris and Janice do the same.

Momentarily, the door opened and a seemingly confused Holly appeared.

Maggie point-blankly and very loudly said, “We’re here for Laura.”

“Good morning to you, too.” She narrowed her eyes at us.

Unswayed by Holly’s demeanor, Maggie explained, “Section 37a of the Lesbian Adventure Club bylaws reads, ‘Any couple forfeiting their weekend in the established rotation also forfeits all their rights. They are, in essence, at the mercy of all other members.'”

Holly gnawed on that for several seconds before she bellowed, “It does not! We don’t have bylaws!” She snatched the paper from Maggie’s hand and read. Finally, she asked, “Laura and I actually signed something like this?”

“Um, no,” Maggie admitted. “We just made it up this morning.”

“You can’t just make things up!”

“Sure, we can,” Maggie responded.

“We’re quite good at it,” Janice added with a snicker.

Holly’s hands went to her hips. “Where is everyone else?”

Maggie shrugged and simply repeated, “We’re here for Laura.”

“She’s in the living room.” She turned, and even though the living room was well within earshot, she shouted, “Babe, I think we’ve got trouble.”

…to be continued… (as soon as the author remembers her priorities)

After much DWD deliberation, we’ve released the short story character we had in seclusion. Yes, Deirdre Munro is free to walk among us—as long as she doesn’t try to take over, of course. (Plus, we think she may know Charles.) After getting to know her a bit, we actually found ourselves high-fiving her. Okay, at least the crybabies did. The littermates proved a bit reluctant. Once you read the story, the reason for that will become abundantly clear.

When would that be? you ask. Damn good question! Soon, I should think.

There we were, cruising around in the author’s mind like we always do. I mean, it is where we live when she fails to corral us on the page of a book. And believe you me, it is a strange place in here. Overloaded. Way overloaded. Some areas are quite organized. Some are oh so not. Some are twisted. Some are dirty (we avoid those areas at all costs). And crowded. Jesus, it’s crowded in here! We just never know who we’ll run into, but still, most of them are docile. At least they are after they figure out who we are. The Dykes Who Dare rule the gray-mattered roost, you see. Hell, there’s even a serial killer in here who cowers when the lot of us are strutting about. Okay, and maybe the fact that Laura kind of plays hall monitor helps a bit, too.

Anyway, as I was saying…

There we were, meandering in the skinny corridor between her conscious and subconscious. We were about to whisper some more sweet LAC 13s into her subconscious and and give her conscious a swift kick when this woman walks up to us. Being the rulers, we politely, albeit demonstratively introduce ourselves. I’m thinking this person is, what? A pizza delivery chick in our next book? Maybe a new barista at Road Swill? Oh, turns out that is so not the case. Oh, frickin’ no. She says she is the main character in a short story.

“You mean from those short stories she used to write in her younger days?” Ginny shrewdly inquires.

“No,” the woman answers. “She’s only a few paragraphs into it so far. I look pretty good in the character sketch, though. Nice and fleshed out; although my face is still a bit blurry.”

Jaws hanging, we kind of stare at her for a moment.

Then, quite wisely, Susan growls, “Get her!”

Like the Ladies of the Flies you all know and love, we were all over her like … well, you know.

We’ve got her secluded. It seems like it should be easy enough to lose someone in here, but you just never know. And no, we have not turned into sadists or anyone Laura would feel compelled to arrest, but we had to do something. Didn’t we? I mean, if we rule the roost, where the hell does the author get off writing short stories that don’t include us? Certainly, if you’re reading this page on our blog, you must agree.

Does anyone know how to start an online petition?

Does anyone have any sway with the author?

Does anyone need a spare character for a short story?

She seems nice enough.

Free to a good literary home.

Just not ours.

Jesus, just not ours.

There are only two chapters remaining, people! Woohoo! We have already been whispering sweet LAC 13s into her ear, and we gave her a damn good idea for LAC 14.

But, she does have to finish Laura’s book first. She’s not quite happy with the shape of the two final chapters, and I am unprepared to risk her wrath and/or public humiliation by posting them before she is. Would you? A cranky writer is not a good thing, especially when you are one of her characters. So…

I will nab and post them both at the same time instead of stringing you along anymore. I’m thinking it will be tomorrow night or Saturday—pending, of course, any miracles or disasters or disasterous miracles or miraculous disasters or… Jesus, shut up, Kate!

Soon, people, soon! And then it will be:

Tomorrow!

If not, some of us are willing to take drastic measures. We’re thinking about trying to find the Writer White Knight we met when Ginny and Kris sent us through the damn looking glass. I bet she could—and would—help us.

Chapter 25 is an almost but not quite. 🙁 And apparently she has some obligations in her life other than the DWD. The nerve, huh? I will keep drumming my fingers on her desk. I’m sure that will work.

Maybe tomorrow.

Okay, the author’s brains are getting rather mushy. I could crack the whip, but I really think it’s in everyone’s best interest if she doesn’t write with mushy brains. She may forget Laura’s a detective and put her inside a lion’s cage armed only with a chair. Except, Laura would probably see that as a typical interrogation scenario. Still, you know what I mean.

author + mushy brains = best wait until the light of a new day

Sorry, people. 🙁

I will crack the whip in the morning. I promise.

The author did not get through her edit of Chapter 10, so I could not swipe it …. or whatever the hell Laura told me to say instead of broadcasting my thievery. Whatever. I just didn’t want those of you reading these chapters to think I bailed on you.

I’ll let the author off the hook for the night, but I promise to crack the whip in the morning … as soon as she gets some coffee into her.