In between my other posts, I'll be popping in a few excerpts from my book, Earthly Needs.
(There's a link to Amazon oh-so conveniently located to the right of this page.)
Lila Wallace was clean and dressed, about her only sartorial goal at this hour. She put in the last earring and ran downstairs. From long habit formed after that growth spurt at thirteen, she ducked her head at the bottom step, narrowly missing the low beam above the final riser in the old house. In the kitchen she found her purse and overstuffed briefcase on the window seat, heaved them to her shoulder, pulled her lunch from the fridge, and grabbed her umbrella from the counter. She turned to leave and there sat her big gray tomcat Winston. Would she ever remember to close off the cat door?
"Winston! I've told you, no friends inside!"
What looked to be a five-pound squirrel stared fatalistically at her from the hunter's mouth. A beat of five seconds passes as all parties froze.
Then came a sudden rush of activity as Lila and Winston dodged and weaved, he with the squirrel, she with the umbrella, first a feint left, a lunge right, until she finally drove him back to the enclosed porch and shut the house door.
Lila stood for a moment catching her breath. Apparently Winston had now officially killed all the chipmunks in a five-mile radius and had moved on to squirrels. What would be next? Portly wood chucks pushed in from behind?