Dynamiting the Muse

Sure, we all have days when things just don't go according to plan. take for instance today, I had every intention of working on my female/female paranormal romance The Relation Chip but Monique and Honor just did NOT want to cooperate. In fact in one scene, a planned love scene they started bickering. So I had my revenge.

How? I pictured them as teenagers then opened my trusty dictionary at random and plucked five words from various pages: immune, questioning, sewer, kick, and medieval. Now, onto the challenge! Use all five of those words - and my characters as teenagers - in a social setting where they'd meet for the first time, and one would leave an imprint on the other. That spark of 'true love' we've all yearned for as angst ridden teens, while leaving the other seemingly clueless, you know, the stereotypical 'guy' response.

"Oh God, please just let someone kick my puddly ass into the sewer," Monique Monet hiccuped a fresh round of tears into her sleeve. "Isn't it enough, Lord, to make me fat, but to set that hag-witch, Lanette on me today, too?"

"Well, well, if it isn't Mo-Mo the Homo. So this is where you hid yourself," Lanette's tart voice stung the very air. "I didn't know such a big, fat-ass could hide behind such small, widdle bushes." Not only was the Barbie-thin girl immune to the suffering of others, she seemed to feed off of it like some kind of sick insect, her and her posse of hussies. "Did you know that girls?" Her question was answered with a chorus of noes, whistles, and lip-smacking sounds that made Monique try to curl up into a tighter ball.

"What the hell is going on back here?" Monique nearly moaned. If Lanette realized who this was, her humiliation would be complete. Honor Fidelis was the person she crushed over every single year, she was the reason Monique hustled all year selling candy bars and junk raising the money for the annual City to Woods Summer Camp. And it was all in her journal -- the same journal Lanette took and started reading aloud when everyone was supposed to be getting ready for bed.

"Oh, now, Mo-Mo you may be a lesbo, but at least you went butch with some taste." Monique risked a look up, Lanette was clearly enjoying this. Her plush lips were pursed as if considering the trim athletic build of the older Honor. "Baby girl, I can see the attraction, really I can. Maybe you dream of eating her up, like a chicken leg." For once, Monique was glad of her dark chocolate complexion, hopefully it hid the tear stains, blotches, red nose and embarrassed flush, then too it was getting dark.

"Monique? What are you doing out here?" Honor completely ignored Lanette and the hussy posse, score one point for humanity.

"You want to know what your little chocolate love bunny is doin' out here?" Lanette's tone was anything but questioning as she pulled the tattered journal from Jessica's hands, opened it to a marked page and began to read, "today I watched -- Hey!"

Honor reached out and plucked it from Lanette's hands. "This isn't yours."

"Spoils of war," she sneered signaling for the posse to surround Honor.

"You really don't want to do this." Steady blue-grey eyes tracked the sniggering teens as they spread out, flanking her.

"I'm not gonna do nothin', rank has its privileges an all that, but I will have it back." As Lanette paced backwards towards the showers the others closed ranks almost on cue. Even though she'd watched her train for the last two summers, Monique had never seen anything like the speed and violence Honor unleashed. When Jessica reached for the wrist-thick braid of blue-black hair, it was suddenly gone as Honor ducked, spun and kicked out tripping her and Daniele, tangling them together. Eyes wide, Monique barely had time to see the wicked teeth of the metal comb in Cherise's hand before Honor's swept in with a numbing chop and a vicious thrust that made the other girl's shoulder give a wet sounding pop.

In shock, Monique sat on the mossy ground and considered the still hunched form of her heroine, as she watched the squealing, squalling shapes trip and race off into the growing dark. "You totally went medieval on their asses," she blurted out. In reply, Honor simply turned and gave her a questioning look.

"I'm about to get in a lot of trouble, you want your diary back?" Oh shit! What to do with it? If she took it back to the tent, Lanette would just take it away, either in the middle of the night or on the long bus ride back to Baltimore. But letting Honor keep it would be beyond mortifying, she felt heat creep up the back of her neck. Those clear eyes studied her quizzically. "Why are you ashamed? Because they read your words?" Well, there was that and a whole lot more. Hoping to keep it simple, Monique nodded miserably. "I can mail it to your home."

"You know where I live?" Pathetically, her heart turned over at the thought of Honor maybe being a little interested in her too.

"No," she smiled, "I work security this year, I have access to camper files. If I can get to them before the director comes looking to kill me." Suddenly she winced, looking in askance for a sound only Honor could hear.

"Makes no never mind," Monique babbled, "my address is inside the front cover, I trust you." Standing so fast her legs nearly gave way, she staggered and was caught smoothly by Honor. She wanted to blame the tingles in her body on the traitorous thing having fallen asleep while on the ground, but couldn't, not the way her heart galloped being held so close to the lithe form before her. Strong hands slid from her arms to supporting her waist, it was a snug embrace, one that robbed her of words. Gaping like a fish she simply stared up at Honor.

"Monique, you are not fat. Not fat at all. I'd say you're just right." Before her brain could conjure up something stupid to say, Honor's lips covered hers in a kiss that promised to go on forever but ended in a matter of heartbeats.