Dylan Jourey ran his hands through his dark brown hair in frustration. He couldn’t believe that his daughter had done that. He couldn’t believe that she had burst into Skye Parker’s shelter, her place of business, and just made that accusation. He hadn’t even realized that the town they had moved to was one that actually had a Parker in residence. He figured that was what he got for not looking into the proprietors of businesses.
But when he had heard about this town, he had to bring his daughter. He was tired of always having to hide who and what they were, everywhere that they had moved. It wasn’t that he wasn’t proud that he was a werewolf and that he was raising a “werewolf pup”, especially as a single father, but most of the world didn’t even realize that they were actually real, that they actually existed. That was the problem, the singular problem. If they really knew, they would be hunted down and eliminated. That’s why he moved to Needmore, Colorado.
Yuck! That’s what I wrote. This is why I have a love-hate relationship with NaNoWriMo. I write terribly when I’m forced to write. When I let the words just flow, I can get some amazing shit done.
Right now, it’s not happening. Right now, I’m just trying to get caught back up!
Even my SEO plugin is telling me my writing is bad :O
Oh well, time to just keep going! See you on the flip side!
I went a different route than what everyone else seemed to be going. I didn’t want pictures of mine and my husband’s hands. I wanted hands that I see all day. I wanted something that said something. My hands say something whenever they’re on the keyboard of my laptop. I like that.