The nasty cold that has taken possession of nearly everyone in town this holiday season has been struggling to find a foothold in me since before Christmas. This is strangely good news in a way. It means those vitamins I've been taking (regularly without being reminded for once) have paid off. After years of working with other people's kids and waiting for that fabled "immunity with frequent exposure" to kick in, I've finally faced the fact that it's not going to happen to me. But I'll take being last, or not getting it as badly as an alternative.
Illness was a good excuse to withdraw from household responsibilities. Gary's making chili (for the first time), the boys are still playing with their Christmas toys. So I withdrew to my room with my old laptop and some Theraflu to type "The End" on Willows Blood. I found room for one more plot twist (needed it to pace this thing right) and am about to be a lot more satisfied with it. I'm trying to leave room for a third book without leaving too many important questions unanswered.
You writers out there will probably identify with this: Have you ever had a secondary character that you liked almost more than your MC? Almost cheering when you get to write them into the scene?