The Twelve Days of Isobel

My darlings! Jenny Crusie does this fabulous thing on her blog every now and then. She'll call it The Twelve Days of (Current Heroine) and post each day on her progress. Since I've got to write like the wind I thought I'd do the same thing for fabulous Isobel. It might be fun for you guys, and it'll keep my nose to the grindstone, my fingers to the keyboard (and/or my pen to the Clairefontaine and my mouth to the Dragon Naturally Speaking).


So we're finally at page 100, and I'm carrying three stories at a time, interweaving them. Isobel and Killian in the past, ca 1989, Isobel and Killian in the present (eighteen years later) and Peter, Genevieve, and Reno in the present. The story in the past will be finished, so we know how they got where they are today, and Isobel and Killian will meet up with Peter et al, bringing everyone together, including, possibly, Bastien Toussaint. It's up to him whether he wants to turn up or not.


I'm doing this instinctively -- later I'll pull it apart and figure out what goes where, but at this point the Girls in the Basement are telling me which story to go with, and right now we're on the verge of the first love scene in Killian and Isobel's past.


Which takes place in a Citroen 2 CV (also known as a deux chevaux, or a two horse, or The Duck, or a 2 hair (because cheveux is hair and chevaux is horse and I'm a smart-ass).


Here's what they look like:

Which is going to make it pretty tricky, since Killian's about 6'2 and it's their first time. But Killian's a very inventive man, as well as a liar, a manipulator, an assassin, a man with more secrets than even Isobel can imagine. He'll manage very well indeed.
The seats don't recline, it's in the middle of the night by the side of a deserted roadway in Southern France, and it's pouring rain. I haven't decided whether they'll turn on the radio and hear Charles Aznavour (whose voice could romance a 90 year old woman with shingles) or whether it'll happen in rough, sweaty silence.
Oh, yum. I really love my work.