Sunday, September 18, 2016

The Fate of the Tattered Manuscript

Take your pick:

A gnarled, armless cactus teetering on high heels, tattered manuscript pierced to pale greenish flesh by a thousand “Keep your bloody distance!” pokies.

Or…

A statuesque tower of badly chipped porcelain teacups teetering on their uneven saucers, tattered manuscript balanced on a pretty, flagrantly fragile pointed head.

Me at a romance writer’s convention.

Yep. Looking forward to the horror.

Until tomorrow…


Chloe

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