#tmc4

A random bit from a random WIP - this is part of a scene between Molly and King from Book Four of The McClary Chronicles, coming later this year:

“We’ve got to do something about him, King.”

There was a grunt of disapproval next to her ear, punctuating the heavy breathing that was tickling her jawline.

“You’ve gotta do som’mat about him.  I wash my hands of him.”

“King, he’s ten.”

“Shhhhh.”

“You can’t just leave him for me to deal with, he’s too wild - “

“Shhhhhh.”

“We’re not allowed in the grocers anymore, did you know that?  He pushed over a rack of sodas and they exploded, liter bottles were shooting everywhere. You’re going to have to talk to Grady, he won’t even let me apologize.”

The exasperation in King’s voice was blunt and obvious as he sighed and rolled over onto his back, defeated.

“I’ll take over when he’s twenty, alright Mol?”

Molly propped up on an elbow to glare at him.

“You’re his father.”

A random bit from a random WIP - another one from Book Four of The Mcclary Chronicles:

That shaggy head appeared again, just for a second, and then with a heavy grunt and a splash of wet mud, the six foot five inch reluctant king of Claighe landed in his heavy boots in front of me.  It was a good nine foot drop and he went to his hands on the ground when he landed, but he stood to full height just a second later and made a grab for me.  His hands were filthy and I squirmed away from him, clutching my arms over my chest. 

“No, no sweets for you until that goose is gone!”

Dave MacDale strolled around the far end of the barn, shaking his head and tsk’ing disapprovingly; while I was distracted King shoved his hand down my sweater and grabbed a fist full of chocolates.  I squealed and slapped him away but it was too late - he had his prize and the goose was still in the house. 

And now Dave was here.

The shadowy man knelt down in front of me and held his hand out, and when I touched him I knew he wasn’t made of shadows.  His hand was warm and hard, not soft like my Da’s.  There were blisters and calluses and scars that scratched against my hand when I laid it on top of his, but all that roughness made me feel safer with him in that parking lot than I’d ever felt in my own home with William Campbell. 

And so I went home with my imaginary friend and his beautiful friend Molly and the cutest little black haired baby in the whole world, and that night I slept in a house so full of love and kindness and contentment that I fell asleep without being scared for the first time in my life.

Macy Gray - I Try