by Amber Scott
ã 2010 Amber Scott
Yesterday, in the middle of the afternoon, I awoke from a daydreaming slumber with a sheen of cold sweat, one horrifying realization ricocheting through my brain: Oh funky ducks. He can read.
You see, Stone, my soon to be six-year old, born on Halloween, read his first book to me the night before. With astonishing accuracy he recited the story of two dogs going camping. I loved every last word. It was one of those brilliant moments a mother’s heart memorizes forever.
The next day, as I sat typing away on my latest spicy romance per my usual routine, I had a mental pause. I let myself daydream what words to flick my fingers onto next. Morning cartoons tinkled in and out of my awareness along with the feel of Stone settling in next to me and hugging my arm.
Liv Starr, succubus in exile, needing sustenance only certain flavors of human men can provide, in very specific sexual form. She’s fighting to resist taking Justin but at the same time needs him. Hmmm. What comes next? What is she feeling in her stomach? In her heart? Over the surface of her skin?
“Mama, what does frobbing mean?”
Frobbing? Oh, crap. Throbbing. He’s sounding out throbbing. And if his eyes keep scanning forth, he will next ask me (I’m hoping) why I’m writing about roosters!
This is the moment my sisters, my friends all asked me about. Warned and laughed about. Except I thought he’d be twenty before I was faced with any questions about what I write.
With a smile I snap my laptop shut and move my lapdesk to the ottoman. My heart is in my throat. I wrap my arms around Stone and take a deep, steadying breath.
“Wow, Stone. You are reading like a pro now, aren’t you?”
Stone beams up at me. “Uh-huh. So, what’s frobbing mean?”
I take his hand and press it to my pulse doing just that in my neck. “Can you feel that?”
He frowns a little then nods enthusiastically, blue eyes shining.
“That is throbbing,” I say.
“Why was it frobbing?”
Think, think, think! “Well, because I’m writing a story and the character in my story had just gotten very, very scared.”
“Ooooh.” He nods solemnly. “Can I be Harry Potter again for Halloween?”
Phew. That was a very close call.
Amber Scott is giving away three copies of her latest release, Play Fling to three random commenters. So leave a comment!!
She can be found at http://AmberScottProject.com