Our kitty Ji ji is feel much better after her spade surgery.

The little dickens is all over all place running from one end of the house to the other, and jumping on Suzu (the one year old kitty) playing.

I finally finished my nanowrimo story!!!
This my third year in a row that I wrote a 50,000 word manuscript in thirty days!

I should be jumping up and down, but I just feel tired and pleased that I did it.

My nano story is about a were-dragon, and uh, she talks to her dragon by the way. Now for the first time anywhere I present to you an excerpt from;

Dragon’s heart

By Janice M. Seagraves

Chapter one: The Green Lady

Walking through the narrow mountain pass, I was surprised when it opened up into a small valley and a township. This then must be the village of Aldine that travelers had spoken of. It was market day and all the stalls were open for business. And business was booming; I counted three distinctive caravan groups and heard at least six different languages spoken. It looks like a nice area, maybe I’ll stay here a while and rest from my travels?
Gazes swiveled toward me. “Who is that?” someone asked.
“Dunno, did she walked out of the pass?”
“Yes, I do believe she did.”
“All by herself?”
“Hi,” I said to them. “Do you know where I can rent a cottage?”
“Keep moving girly we don’t want your kind here,” one of the men sneered.
“What kind is that?” I asked taken aback.
“Whore,” he spat the word at me. “We drove the last ones out with the help of the new priest.”
“I am not a whore,” I pulled myself straight and lifted my chin. I’m not tall and just barely come to these men’s shoulders. I’m always mistaken for someone a lot younger, but then again I really don’t show my age.
“A Madame come to start up a brothel here?” said the other.
“Good heavens,” I said blinked at him in surprise, am I showing cleavage? A quick glance down told me I wasn’t. “No and no. Why would I do a thing like that?”
“She’s no whore. She a rich man’s run away daughter,” said a woman behind them.
“I’m not,” I smiled at her. “But that is the nicest thing someone’s said to me since I got here.” She started to smile in return but covered her mouth instead. I had caught a glimpse of black stumps. I had my work cut out for me here.
She stepped around the men and squinted at me. “You’re old enough to be married, where’s your husband?”
“He died,” I told her.
“You can marry again.”
“I did he died too,” I told her truthfully. “I have the bad tendency of outliving my husbands.”
“Oh you poor dear,” she said sympathetically. She glanced at my silver necklace with the dragon clasping a heart shaped garnet, and then at my hands where I wore a silver ring on each finger; the designs were of Celtic knots, three had a small garnet that looked like a drop of blood. “He left you well off I see? So why are you here?”
“Wars coming, I had to leave and I’m traveling light,” I indicated my one tote bag that hung on my shoulder; it was designed with Celtic knots and in the center a green dragon holding a red heart. “I was thinking of settling here. Do you know who I can rent a cottage from?”
“We hear rumor of war all the time,” shrugged one of the men like it was nothing.
“If you want to rent a place you’ll need to speak with Barnabas. He’s the Baron’s steward,” the woman told me.
“Where might I find him?”
“At the pub most likely,” she said.
“Try the wild boar,” said one of the men who had insulted me earlier.
“Thank you,” I told him then looked at the woman. “What’s your name? I never forget a face, or one who has helped me.”
“My name is Nora Goodwife, and yours?”
“I’ve traveled a good while and most people call me the green lady, because I wear a green dress. But you may call me Jade.”
“Good morrow Lady Jade,” she curtsied.
“And you to Nora Goodwife.” I said and walked down the way toward where I hope was the pub the wild boar.
Behind me I heard, “Did you notice she had bare feet but they were clean?”
“While I stood close to her I noticed that she smelled like Jasmine.”
***
The door was open to the pub, and I walked into the noise and smoke of the establishment. I smell greasy burnt meat and stale ale. A haired looking woman went from table to table while she dropped off mugs of ale or picked up dirty dishes, and fended off groping hands. “Excuse me miss,” I said. “Can you tell me where Barnabas is?”
“Over there,” she said with a lift to her chin, and hurried away.
Weaving through the full tables heading in the vague direction she had indicated, but before I got too far a hand hooked my elbow and turned me around. “Hey pretty, how about some fun eh? What do you say?”
“Not in my life time.” I looked him up and down; he was from a caravan and looked dusty and smelled worse. “Not in yours anyway.”
He ran grubby fingers down one of my curls that lay on my shoulder. He was close enough that I got a face full of his ale soaked breath. I pulled back with a shudder of revolution. “Such pretty hair, it looks like copper, and you smell good too.”
“And you smell terrible.”
“How much for a full night sweat cakes?”
“I’m not for sale and never have been.” I jerked away from him.
“Hey that’s not nice,” he said trying to snatch at me again, but I side stepped his efforts. “I was just trying to be friendly.”
Feeling a low growl rumble inside of me and the sliding of scales, I knew Elyria was awake. Down girl, this I can handle, I thought at her and side stepped again.
But he looks so tasty.
You can’t eat him, I thought appalled. I stepped back from his lunge.
She asked Oh not even a nibble? I heard the pout in her voice.
Smelly guy got a hold of my tote bag, and pulled me over to him. I balled my hand into a fist and punched him in the gut.
“Ow, she hits,” he complained. He let go of the strap to clutch at his stomach.
“That’s not all I do,” I said tensing for another go.
“The lady isn’t interested,” I heard a voice ring out. A shush ran though the pub. A woman being harassed wasn’t worth even a glance but this guy made everyone sit up and take notice. I looked over to see who spoke; a young man with shiny black hair pulled back with into a ponytail and tanned golden skin glaring in our direction. His hunting clothes fit snuggly on his muscular frame, but even in the gloom of the pub I could tell they were made of the finest material.
“Who might you be boy,” snapped the man.
One of his table companions pull him over and said loudly in his ear, “That’s the baron’s son.”
“So?”
“Don’t mess with him we don’t need the trouble that’ll bring down on our ears.”
I was moving toward the young man before I thought much about it. Hello handsome. “Hi, thanks for the save,” I smiled at him. “I’m looking for Barnabas, do you know him?”
“Oh, now you’ve gone and broken my heart,” he said with a hand over his chest.
“Have I?” I looked at him confused.
“I thought it was me you’ve came to see.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said and tried to stifle a girlish giggle.
Don’t go all cutesy Jade.
Shut up Elyria. “I wanted to rent a cottage, and I was told that Barnabas was the man to see.”
“I’m Barnabas,” said a man at the same table as my rescuer.
I glanced down at him. He was well dressed but his clothes had a worn look to them. “Greetings Barnabas.”
“You want to rent a cottage?” He looked me up and down like he doubted I could afford it.
“Yes, by the edge of town if you have one.”
“Is it just for you?”
“Yes of course.”
“Where’s your husband?”
“He died.”
“She’s a widow Barnabas, be nice and show her some cottages,” said the young man with a bright smile. “I know you have at least three to rent.”
“Humph, you don’t have to rescue every pretty filly that shows up young Tiernan.”
“Sure I do, what else is a Baron’s son good for?” he said with some bitterness. “I’m too old for a tutor, and father is too young to retire. I’m his only heir so I can’t leave and see the world. I’m only fit for the hunt and for rescuing damsels in distress.”
You didn’t need rescuing.
Hush Elyria, he can think he rescued me if he wants to. I turned to the young man. “So your name’s Tiernan?”
“It is but you can call me Tier, and you are?”
“Jade.”
“Of course you are.” He took my hand and kissed it. “Lovely lady Jade, of the green dress.”
Man, this guy’s has style.
He’s a rogue.
Shut up.