Reviews For Moving In
Seriously Reviewed said "You know? Every so often you read a story that starts a little slow on the first few pages and then.....BAM it just explodes! This was one of them for me."
Kaye's Book Review Page
on which she said The book is "short, sweet, light-hearted and just plain fun."
Vince at Philosophy of Romance said "Alice Audrey’s voice is fresh, feisty, full of surprises and always fun. The author also deals with real people having real problems and she does it in a very insightful way."
Nessa at Chrysalis Stage said "If you like sweet, fast-paced romance with a hot hero and all of the misunderstandings that two people can throw at each other, then you will love this story."
Night Owl Reviews didn't have anything nice to say about it. Hey, you can't win them all.
Brenda Talley of Romance Studio said " I recommend this book to anyone. It was a pleasure to read and I shall look for more of her work in the future. "
By Guta Bauer at Murphy's Library did it twice! Once in English and once in Portuguese. I'm assuming they both say, "Life goes on, choices need to be made and we can never let our past deny us of our future. That’s just some of the things we learn from this story. "
If you did a review of my book, let me know! I'll be glad to link to you, even if you didn't like the book.
Books by Friends Click on the cover to see more about them:
Yeah, I know the sizes are weird. What a pain. Anyway, if any of these books look interesting to you, click on them to read more.
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“A sparkling Christmas story to touch the heart. A warm and wonderful tale of lovers reunited on a cold winter’s night.” — Anna Campbell
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A Visit From Sir Nicholas is a short story which combines the warm atmosphere of post Regency England and the poem A Visit From Saint Nicholas. It’s a story about love lost and found as two lovers are reunited by the North Star on Christmas eve. It’s short, sweet, and at times funny and moving, and makes for great lunchtime reading. 
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My friend and fellow FanLit Forever board member, Anastasia St. James, has recently seen her first book become available to the public. The title of her book is A Visit from Sir Nicholas. It’s available through Wild Rose Press.
In celebration, I asked her to let me interview her. Here’s what she had to say.
Alice: Are you excited about your publication coming out, or has it been so long it no longer seems real?
Anastasia: It’s wonderful to see it for sale in their catalog and thrilling to see it as number one on their Month’s Bestseller list.
Alice: What is your favorite line from the book?
Anastasia: If I had to pick one line, it would have to be the last one, but I’m not giving it away.
Alice: Do you have something more in the works for us?
Anastasia: Yes, I have two current WIP’s. One will be a full length and the other novella length.
Alice: Can you give us a clue what your next books are about? Are they related to each other or to A Visit From Sir Nicholas? When and where are they set?
Anastasia: No, not related at all. The full length takes place in 1815, in Jamaica. The war of 1812 is just finished and the hero has been doing a bit of privateering to help the English cause in the Caribbean.
The novella takes place in Northwest England near the Scottish border during the summer of 1816. It includes a kidnaping and an impromptu trip to Gretna. 
Alice: What can you tell us about the publishing process? What was your experience?
Anastasia: It was much easier than I had expected. I discovered that editors are really human beings and not the unattainable demi gods we tend to see them as, before we actually work with them. My editor Zanoni Rose was wonderful to work with and the cover artist, Nicola Martinez did her best to march the cover to the story.
Alice: What have you learned about writing since you first wrote A Visit From Sir Nicholas?
Anastasia: I’ve learned a lot about the publishing process and the marketing side of the business. But most of all, I’ve learned that perseverance pays and dreams can come true if you work hard enough.
Alice: Would you do anything differently if you could?
Anastasia: Yes, I wish I had started writing sooner.
Last week, and the week before, we caught Vin and Miranda in bed together. It was not their first time to do it, but it was their first to get caught. Suzie was a bit tipsy at the time, but not so far gone she didn’t know what she was seeing.
Suzie hacked off the tops of two carrots with a vicious swing of a cleaver. She knew darn well a cleaver was overkill for a couple of medium sized carrots, but she swung with gusto anyway.
“Miranda, how could you do it?”
Miranda sat at the kitchen table with her legs crossed, her chin propped up by one hand, the other stirring the coffee in front of her with a dissolute air.
“I tried not to.” Her voice was small, partly muffled by her hand.
“I knew something was going on . I just knew it.” Suzie shoved the carrots into the Cuisenart. For the seconds of life remaining the vegetables, nothing could be heard, which suited Suzie’s mood very well. Then she had about three cups of shredded carrots and all the same concerns as before. “Why couldn’t you have just left him alone?”
“Are you telling me I’m supposed to keep my hands off Vin, but there’s nothing wrong with you boinking Drew?”
“That’s different.” Suzie transferred the carrots to a serving bowl with a lid. “I don’t freak out and turn into a rampaging bitch when I’m in love.”
“No. You turn into a doormat.”
Suzie flinched, then glared at Miranda.
“Sorry. Forget I said that. I didn’t mean it.” Miranda twisted to the side, her mouth an uneven frown.
“See? It’s already started.” Suzie shuddered. Knowing Miranda, things were like to get much, much worse before they were through. She went to the fridge for a lemon. “Besides. Drew and I haven’t done anything.”
“You’re kidding.”
With her hand on the fridge handle, she stopped and sighed. She’d had such grand schemes for seduction right up until she opened the door to Vin’s room for fear he was dieing of his bullet wounds. But even though she’d closed the door the instant Vin said, “Don’t you people ever knock?” whatever sparks had been passing between her and Drew were gone. He’d seen her to her room, then simply left her there.
“I thought for sure last night…. Heck, I thought a week ago….”
Suzie shook her head.
“Crimany. We are so messed up. You aren’t doing it when you should be and I am when I shouldn’t. It’s just…. I can’t help it, Suzie. I don’t mean to do anything, but then Vin gives this… this look and…. I can’t help it.”
“Fine. I understand. I’m amazed it didn’t happen sooner. Just promise me one thing, Miranda.”
“I can’t promise I’ll leave him alone, but I’ll try.” She looked at her coffee like an orphan looking at a bowl of gruel.
“No. Not that. What I want you to promise is that this time you’ll step back now and then and clear your head. When you start to get jealous and scared and crazy the way you do, stop and think what it must look like to Vin, ok?
“Ok. I’ll try. I think I can do that.” Miranda didn’t look very sure of herself, but considering some of the things she’d done over the years in similar circumstances, Suzie couldn’t blame her.
“Don’t worry too much. I’ll help.”
Miranda quirked an eyebrow.
“When you get crazy, I’ll let you know. All right?” Suzie quirked an eyebrow at Miranda. “Then all you have to do is stop whatever it is you’re doing and think.”
“All right. I guess that sounds good. Ok, so are we still on for tomorrow night?”
“You, me and Vin chasing Christina around in my car? You know it.”
The previous was Suzie’s House 61: A Compromising Position
This is Suzie’s House 62: You Can and I Can’t?
Next is Suzie’s House 63: Brothers in Arms
When we left off last week Ben had just left and the remaining members of the house were discussing the two red-headed men, trying to sort out which had done what to various members of the household. Suzie headed off to the kitchen, and Drew soon followed.
Suzie pulled out the restaurant bowl – a stainless steal bowl nearly two feet wide from rim to rim. She didn’t even bother to get the recipe from the file. She had dumped a box of Raisin Bran into the bowl, poured in a quart of buttermilk, and pulled out her 5-Cup measuring cup before she realized Drew was in the room.He leaned against the doorjamb leading to the hall, his arms crossed over his broad chest.
“A penny for your thoughts.”
Suzie turned away with a shrug. She didn’t want to share her thoughts right now, especially with Drew. If he realized what she was thinking, he’d be upset. She poured in the oil, then started cracking eggs. One hit the side of the bowl too hard and turned into a gloppy mess in her hand.
“Hey,” Drew said quietly, coming up on her side. He cleaned the egg off with a paper towel. “I’m here for you if you need anything.”
“I’m fine.” Her voice was strained, but she pretended it wasn’t. As soon as she could get her hand back, she mixed in all the wet ingredients.
“I feel bad about Ben. I know you had your reasons for sending him off to live with his father, but I can’t help but think he’d be better off here where I could keep an eye on him.”
Like when he ran into the house next door and shot at a pair of murderers and was too busy to notice that Ben had followed him? Ben had almost gotten kidnapped. Again. Suzie quirked an eyebrow, but refrained from comment. She couldn’t really dump the responsibility for Ben on Drew. As Ben’s mother, most of it rested in herself. Well maybe it was about time Ben’s father took some of the responsibility. She measured out most of the flour and dumped it into the mixing bowl, but didn’t mix it in right off.
She measured the salt, baking soda, and sugar into part of the flour, stirring it right into the measuring cup. It was lazy cooking, but she wasn’t about to dirty an extra bowl just to mix the dry ingredients, and this way the baking soda would be mixed in thoroughly enough.
“Remember, as soon as we crack the case and arrest these guys it’ll be safe for Ben to come home,” Drew said.
“That’s right. And Miranda and I can help.” Suzie’s heart filled with hope. She turned to Drew with a smile on her lips, prepared to dive right in. Helping solve the case and put these men away would give her something to work toward, as well as something to take her mind off of Ben’s every moment away from her.
“Well, I’m not so sure about that. I was thinking of taking Vin off the case, and he was trained for this kind of work. I don’t think it would be right to drag you or Miranda into it.”
Suzie glared at Drew, willing him to understand. He crossed his arms and looked stubborn. Sometimes he irritated her so much she wanted to lash out. Wouldn’t he be surprised to receive a spanking with a wooden spoon – a batter covered wooden spoon. Instead of embarrassing them both, the turned to the enormous mixing bowl.
Suzie pushed the wooden spoon around harder and faster, far more vigorously than necessary. If Miranda walked in now, she’d say something catty about the way Suzie liked to cook when she was upset. Suzie made herself stop.
“I’m not going to change my mind,” Drew said as if she’d argued.
“Yes you will,” she muttered. Even if he didn’t, she was going to take matters into her own hands. “I’ve never been able to sit on the sidelines when it came to something I cared about.”
She took a gallon sized jar from the shelf where she kept three or four of them. She liked the kind with the wider mouths, but had to be careful with them now that the friend who used to work for Porta Bella restaurant no longer kept her supplied with empties. She carefully transferred the mixture from the bowl to the jar, not bothering with a funnel. Then she put the jar in the refrigerator.
“Aren’t you going to cook that?”
“No. You are. You and Miranda and Vin, when it’s your turns to cook. It’s Six Week Muffin Mix. Just pour it into a muffin tin and stick it in the oven. I’ll put the instructions on the side of the jar later.
Drew nodded, looking entirely too serious for muffins. But then, it wasn’t really muffins they were talking about. It was their lives and how they should be lived.
Suzie’s House is fueled by your comments. Not only do your comments encourage me to continue, they often provide direction and inspiration. That’s right, this is an interactive story. If there is something in particular you would like to see, let me know and I’ll try to work it in.
Drop by Sunday for a copy of the recipe.
The previous was Suzie’s House 51: Something to Think About
This is Suzie’s House 52: Mixed Up With Muffins
Next is Suzie’s House 53: A Little Conspiracy
1 – I find him inspirational.
2 – He’s developed a taste for the office floor.
3 – He loves to help me do research.
4 – He likes hanging out in the library while helping me do research, even if I’m just looking at fashion plates from 1810 instead of battle fields.
5 – He thought the research involving the closet was interesting. Hey, I needed to know how things… um… lined up.
6 – He’s hoping someday one of these books I’m always writing will sell.
7 – I promised to take him to Ireland if one of my book sold. I called it “research.”
8 – He thinks it’s cute when I mutter to myself, especially if I gesture sword motions or car chasses while I do it.
9 – He thinks writers are cool.
10 – He like to read my copy of Romance Writer’s Review.
11 – It lead to both of us entering the Avon FanLit contest.
12 – He likes pens as much as I do.
13 – He loves it when I ask him about guns. Hey, I’m working on a Romantic Suspense. I need to know these things.
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Can you write the beginning of a story which will have the reader yearning to read more? Well we’re giving you an opportunity to take home a $50 Visa GC by doing just that. Contestants will have a week to come up with a 1000-1500 word beginning to a story which not only starts with a hook, but leaves us dying to read more. Limit of 2 entries per contestant. For instructions on how to enter, visit FanLit Forever’s Anniversary Celebration board. The winner will be announced on the final day of Fanlit Forever Anniversary Nov 7th.
Every day we have two other contests. Today’s Trivia Question winner got a $10.00 Amazon gift card. Tomorrow’s cover blurb winner will get a copy of The Leopard Prince by Elizabeth Hoyt.
Tomorrow will see another Trivia Question round, and another challenge like the cover copy challenge. It’s worth stopping by every day to see what’s up.
It’s all part of the FanLit Forever celebration!
We continue from last week when Miranda went down stairs to check on Vin.
Vin explored every facet of Miranda as he kissed her. She smelled of something soft and sensual, not tart or obnoxiously floral like some of her perfume. She tasted sweet and a little musky, and so sexy he could hardly stand it.
(Editorial note: Hmmmm… to newsletter, or not to newsletter? That is the question. I think… not, but my younger readers might want to skip this.)
At first she leaned in, giving herself completely to the kiss just like him. It wasn’t like when she kissed him in the hospital, her touch so brief and her tears dripping on him. This was better, much, much better.
She wore some sort of over-sized negligee, only one that didn’t show as much as he would have liked. He guessed it was a nightgown, only made of several thin layers and as soft as cotton candy. His fingers snag it, pulling and bunching as he ran his hand up and down Miranda’s back.
He made their connection last as long as he could. Even though she’d told him she loved him, he didn’t quite trust her to stick with him for something so intense.
Sure enough, she was the one who broke it off, pulling herself from his arms. Her eyes were a little wild. She swallowed hard.
“I came to see if you were all right.”
He thought about it. His shoulder and chest hurt, but it always hurt now. He could breath easily enough, wasn’t so deathly tired, and didn’t feel feverish. At least, not feverishly ill. He gave a short nod. “I’m all right.”
“Do you… um…” Miranda bit her lip and looked away, then looked back. “Do you need help getting to bed?”
He knew he shouldn’t smile, but he couldn’t help himself. He was grinning full on as he said, “Yes, I believe I do.”
“I don’t mean it like that, and you know it.” She slapped his leg lightly.
It didn’t hurt, but he said “Ow,” and grabbed it anyway just to see Miranda look all sorry and act helpful.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to do that.” She rubbed his leg as if to ease the pain, but all it did was give him ideas. “Why do I always do that? I’m always screwing up. I didn’t mess up your stitches or anything, did I?”
“Relax, babe. You didn’t do any damage.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, but don’t hit me again. All right?”
She sucked in her lips in an annoyed looking line, and patted his knee. He was pretty sure if he hadn’t said something she’d have slapped him again.
“Here. Help me up.” With a grunt he swung his legs around.
Miranda got a shoulder under his good arm. He leaned on her more than he really needed to because he liked to make her think he was helpless. They went up the stairs very slowly and carefully.
“Tell the truth,” he said to her. “You were planning on letting me sleep down there.”
“I… um…”
Vin chuckled. “But you didn’t. You can’t resist me.” He grinned at her. It would drive her nuts to think she could be at the mercy of her attraction to him. Miranda always had to be in control, even if it looked like she was totally whacked at the time.
“Shut up and walk,” she grumbled.
“Doing my best here.”
“I’m sorry…”
“Enough with the sorrys already. I don’t need them and neither do you.” At the top of the stairs he turned toward her. He put his hand on her side of her face. She let him, so he pushed his fingers into her hair. She closed her eyes like a cat being scratched behind the ears. “I love you, and – ”
“No.” Her eyes went wide. “No, don’t say it.”
He almost pushed it. He almost said she loved him too, but she looked so hopeless. Something made him hold back. Instead, he drank in the sight of her currently auburn hair puffed away from her face in a wild main, her long dark eyelashes making her cheeks look young and vulnerable, her ruby lips full and moist.
She turned her face into his palm. She must still be terrified that he would die on her. She had a right to be worried. He was a long way from his former vigor.
“Tuck me in?” He lifted her face so she could see him smile gently.
He wasn’t going to get heavy on her, no matter how he felt. He didn’t want to do anything that would mess this up. Not now, when he finally had her where he wanted her. Well, almost where he wanted her. He glanced hopefully at his bedroom, thinking of the bed inside and praying Miranda would take the hint rather than take offense.
“I don’t know.” She bit her lower lip, and looked away. She looked shaky.
She made him feel tired. Even now, when they both knew she loved him and he loved her she couldn’t simply let nature take its course. Normally he would consider it a challenge and chase after her like a kitten chasing a string. But he wasn’t so strong so soon after having been shot, and he couldn’t help thinking about years and years of chasing her only to be rebuffed.
Vin felt like giving up.
He sighed. He put his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. “Good night, Miranda.” He sounded as tired and defeated as he felt. He let her go and turned toward his room.
Miranda’s eyes widened in panic. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Just a little tired.” He shook her off and shuffled toward his bed.
Miranda wedged herself under his good arm and wrapped her arm around his lower back. “Here, let me help you.”
“I don’t need a nurse, Miranda. I’ll be fine.”
“No you won’t.. You look, I don’t know, like you need someone.”
“I do need someone, but not the way you’re thinking.” He couldn’t help if a little of his resentment seeped through.
After all this time, maybe he should wake up and smell the coffee. What did it matter if she loved him if she wouldn’t let him love her back? What good was loving each other doing either one of them? Maybe… maybe he should think about finding someone else to love.
They stopped next to his bed facing one another. Her eyes flicking around his face, her brow creased in concern. Whatever she saw there must have made her sad because it tugged at the corners of her lips.
Just when he was about to send her packing, she kissed him. It wasn’t a sisterly kiss either. It was a kiss made for seduction and worked like a charm.
He put his arms around her and leaned sideways, keeling over into the bed and taking Miranda with him. It felt like he was submersing himself in love. She struggled onto her knees, then off the bed. He thought she was running away. Instead, she closed the door.
To be continued…
*evil grin* Trust me, I’ll make it worth the wait.
The previous was Suzie’s House 39 : Good Intentions
This is Suzie’s House 40: Cat Scratch Fever
Next is Suzie’s House 41: Coming to the Point
As if the 100 words a day for 100 days challenge on FanLit Forever wasn’t enough I’ve joined the 70 Days of Sweat challge at http://70daysofsweat.com/wordpress/archives/71
Wish me luck!
If you’re doing it too, stop and say “hi!”
Alice
Every so often I come to a point where I could easily take the Suzie’s House story in a couple of different directions. I am at such a point right now.
About a month ago Ash asked for a love scene. I promised to deliver one as quickly as I could arrange it. I believe she was looking for something between Miranda and Vin, but it turns out the first opportunity for one is between Suzie and Drew.
Because my audience – particularly the part of my audience who approach me in town but never leave messages – tends to be a mixed bunch I have decided to keep this blog as close to a PG 13 rating as I can. If I didn’t, I suspect Mr. Al would be even more bloody minded in his history posts, some of the jokes I post would be more risque, and Suzie would get a bit more graphic. Those of you who have read Zackly Right will know what I mean.
I can’t give you a PG 13 love scene. I simply don’t have the dot dot dots in me. What I can do is set up a newsletter to which you can subscribe only if you are of age, put a cleaned up version of the scene on the blog and put the real love scene on the newsletter. I would only ever use the newsletter for those scenes of Suzie’s House that I can’t put on the blog.
So option 1 would be to set up a newsletter and next week provide those readers who subscribe with a love scene between Suzie and Drew. For several weeks now I’ve been toying with what to do about Ben. There are a lot of things I’d like to say about being a kid, teachers, school, the nature of family and divorce which I intend to vent through Ben. I already have a few paragraphs written from Ben’s point of view which I have every intention of posting soon. Like it or not, you’re going to be seeing a lot of Ben in the next few weeks.
Option 2 would be to skip the love scene and go straight to Ben.
There are a number of other things I could do next week. For instance, Christina asked to be written into the story as a particular kind of character some time ago. I’m about ready to bring in the character. Also, it has been suggested that I write something from a villains’ point of view. I could easily do so. I could do something in which Suzie and Drew ALMOST get it on, but not quite. I could surprise us all, myself included.
Option 3 is to pull a rabbit out of the hat and hope it doesn’t come back to bite me later.
Option 4 would be the promise of a love scene in the next couple of weeks, with the newsletter set up now, but to go straight to Ben next Friday.
Here’s your chance to make an impact on Suzie’s House. Let me know what you would like to see next week, and that’s where we will go.
Alice
Welcome to Suzie’s House. This is a serial that posts every Friday. To see the following week’s post, click the link at the bottom.
Suzie stirred the stew, sending up inviting whafts of basil, thyme, and onion. Wisps of steam from the stock pot spread the scent throughout the kitchen. Suzie paused to take in the warmth and beauty of her kitchen, a long last look before she lost everything.
Light-yellow walls she had painted herself, oak cabinets she had refurbished, polished granite counters she had spent more than one paycheck on, everything looked homey and welcoming. She was going to miss this room even more than the rest of the five bedroom Victorian “painted lady” when the bank foreclosed.
Suzie pinched off three portions of bread dough and rolled each out, though she was more in the mood to punch something. She changed her mind about making a braid out of the bread, and put the three portions back together to make a loaf.
How ironic that she would loose her home, the home she had fought tooth and nail to keep in the divorce, to a simple inability to pay the mortgage.
One tear rolled down her face. She rubbed it off with the back of her hand, and blamed the onions. When someone knocked on the back door, she welcomed the break from her endlessly repeating thoughts.
“Come in!” Suzie shouted.
“You’re cooking? Stove AND oven?” Miranda let herself in, then teetered across the kitchen in ridiculous shoes – this time hot pink strappy things with spike heels inverted so the wide part hit the floor and the minuscule tip attached to the vamp. Suzie bet the heels would snap off in less than a week. The shoes went with a sequined mini skirt and feather-trimmed halter top. Her hair was blond streaked with pink today. Yesterday it was red.
Miranda flopped onto a kitchen chair. “What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean ‘what’s wrong?’ Nothing’s wrong.” Suzie shaped the loaf, then dropped it into a battered bread pan. She refused to look Miranda in the eye. If Miranda knew what was happening she would be sure to make trouble. Suzie wasn’t sure what form the trouble would take, but didn’t doubt who would take the brunt of it.
She draped a cup towel over the loaf and stuck it on the stove where it would probably over heat on the side near the burner and be too cool on the side away. Then the loaf would puff unevenly. She told herself she’d give it a turn every few minutes, knowing she lied to herself but pretending she didn’t.
“You don’t go to this much trouble if there’s nothing wrong.” Miranda plucked at a feather at her shoulder.
”I cook every day.”
“Not if you can help it.”
Suzie pulled out a chair on the opposite side of the kitchen table. Sitting, she ran her fingers over the smooth surface. “I like to cook.”
“Sure, when you’re in the mood. Which always seems to be when you are avoiding something else. Now spill.”
“If you hadn’t rescued me from Tommy Crocker in the third grade there’s no way I’d let you be so rude to me.” Suzie faked a glare.
“But I did rescue you. So spill.” Miranda leaned forward with her elbows on the table.
“Miranda, I’m going to have to sell the house.”
“No!” Miranda drew back as if she’d been slapped. “You love this house. I love this house. The judge said you could keep it, and there’s nothing your rotten X-husband can do to change it.”
Suzie tried to smile. Miranda had stood by her through the whole messy business, siding with her when Rob tried to lay claim on a house he hadn’t wanted to begin with. If she hadn’t used her inheritance as the down payment, he would never have set foot inside. He’d matched her on mortgage payments about half the time, but made her pay by getting his tubes cut after Ben was born so she couldn’t fill the rooms with children.
In the divorce proceedings Rob tried to claim the house for himself simply because he knew it would hurt her. When that didn’t work he tried to force her to sell, or cough up money he knew she didn’t have. Luckily the judge had not agreed.
“He can’t do anything, but the bank can. I’ve been running behind on the mortgage for months. They’re threatening to foreclose.”
“I know you never have enough money with the book keeping job, but you always pay it all eventually. Can’t they cut you a break?” Miranda jutted out her jaw in righteous anger.
“I lost my job. Even if I can make this month’s payment, what about next month? And the month after?”
“There must be something you can do.” Miranda tapped one hot-pink talon on the table top while her eyes narrowed. “I’ve got it! You should rent out your extra bedrooms. Sort of like a long-term bead and breakfast. What were those called? Boarding houses! You should make this a boarding house.”
“I thought of that, but who would I rent to? Some stranger who answered an add in the newspaper?” Suzie shuddered. “I have to think of my son. I can’t let just anyone live here.”
“So rent a room to me!” Miranda leaned back in her chair, her smile decidedly smug.
“What?” Suzie’s throat felt tight. She hoped she’d heard wrong.
“Rent a room to me. I can help you find renters for the other two rooms. That’ll put you in the black. Then you’ll have more than enough to pay the bank and I’ll get at least one good meal a day. What could be better?”
Suzie thought about what it was like when they lived together in the dormitories in college, and blanched.
Thank you for reading. Please comment, and continue on.
This is Suzie’s House 1: A Matter of Economics
Suzie’s House 2: Friend or Roommate?
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The Serialists 
This week's participants:
What is the Serialists? It's a chance to check out some great online fiction. Each Wednesday
a new post
goes up where people who write connected fiction can share their latest episodes. Click on that link to get to the post where you can put in your own link.
Here are some of the best:
Want to get in the permanent list? Participate in the Serialists meme with a few points in mind, and you will be.
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