To Heather Osborn
Okay. I’m DYING to know the “behind the scenes” stuff associated with the Big News that you’re leaving Tor to go to Samhain as the Editorial Director. I’m completely excited about this since I have LONG admired you, pitched to you once at RWA and look forward to being at a publisher where your touch is felt. I can’t wait until you’re on board.
I have a strong, passionate aversion to you.
Lord Joshua Arundale
Our conversations will soon be ended when I finally put your story to rest. I won’t miss them. Ones like this:
Me: Okay, I really need to know why you killed that man on the way to Jamaica. It’s the only good explanation you’ve had so far to justify staying away from England for ten years.
Joshua: *musing* Have I ever told you my middle name?
Me: *nonplussed* What?
Joshua Well, you’re always complaining that I don’t volunteer information.
Me:*sternly* Does this have ANYTHING to do with why you killed a man on the ship you took to the New World?
JoshuaAtticus. My mother loved Roman history and so she named me Atticus.
Me:*exasperated* Again, Joshua. Does this have ANYTHING to do with why you killed that man? Does it have anything to do with the story at ALL?
Joshua*offended* Well, no. But it IS information. And you ARE always hounding me for personal tidbits. I’m beginning to doubt that you appreciate my efforts.
Me: If your effort is to make me bald, Lord Joshua Atticus Arundale, then you are succeeding.
Joshua: I do wish you’d leave the dungeon scene in. I had such fun.
Me:I’m writing an erotic romance. Not Joshua’s wishful thinking. Stop telling me tall tales and I’ll be able to get the story right.
Joshua:If everyone would just do as I say, all would be well.
Me:If everyone did what you said, you’d still be in Jamaica. Stop being a pill.
Joshua: You know, your husband is right.
Me:*suspicious* What do you mean?
Joshua:*smugly* I’m probably going to be your most popular book. And then you’ll have to write Perry’s story, and Everrett’s and–
Me:Joshua, do you want me to give you nothing but daughters to torment you for the next twenty-five years?
Joshua*silent for a moment* *clears throat* Perhaps I was a bit hasty.
Me:That’s what I thought.
To Heather Osborn