Jacqueline Hopper Official Author Website

(Rubbing hands together) Okay, company has been and company is gone. Yay for company! Yay for alone time! Both are nice. And, because the apartment is nice and tidy, I'm raring to go with writing again. Been a long break, maybe I needed it to take some pressure off my brain, but now I really want to write.

Had an email hit two different accounts offering deep discounts on photos. I now have 24 credits to put towards both book covers and a book trailer. I have my new computer on order, and with it I'll have the ability to do a lot more than what I currently can do with my laptop.  I've also made the decision that when I get my new system there will be a very big ne touche pas, c´est à moi  sign on it for anyone who thinks it's available for their use. Yes, yes I can be that selfish. A computer is too expensive to be treated as a toy, and people have made adjustments to my previous systems without so much as a 'by your leave'. Nothing makes me froth faster than someone changing fonts, Internet settings and anything else that has me posing the question: 'where did such-and-such go?'.

So, here I am, eager to get back to Ysonde. I've missed that poor little cabbage.

Goal for now: write, critique ...

Excerpt:
 Orchids for Roses (chapter thirty three)

Deborah chewed her lower lip for a moment. Mick's odd behavior was upsetting. "We built the solarium according to the floor plans."

"I thought as much," Mick murmured, before pushing to his feet. "Could you get a flashlight?"

"Sure." She went to fetch the one she kept in the storage room, while he pulled the bamboo chair over to the spot where she’d originally found the white compound.

When he stepped up onto the chair’s seat, she asked, "What are you doing?"

"Treasure hunting," he said cryptically, making a motion for the flashlight. She held it out to him, and watched, open-mouthed, as he moved aside a Styrofoam panel in the ceiling and broke the alcove’s interior darkness with a shaft of light.

"Y - you don’t think it’s something illegal, do you?" she asked, aware of the sound of fear in her voice.

"I’ve never seen it before," he said in a suddenly mature voice, as he shut off the flashlight, "But I believe that stuff is what’s called C-4."