Writer's Butt - Part 1 (Plus Smashwords Discount Code)

Do you have Writer’s Butt?

Sitting too long on a regular basis creates more than completed manuscripts. 

Doing yoga never got me that mythical "yoga butt," but "writer’s butt" definably crept up on me. During the time I was writing Relaxing the Writer I dealt with a sore hip and researched several therapies and therapists and tried a few “props” and techniques.

The "Writer’s Butt” series will first look at the problem and then ways to
make the problem smaller.

Writer's Butt - Part 1

Setting the Scene

Before the internet, writing included a lot more physical tasks. Writers walked to a stationery shop for paper and ink or a few blocks to a library, drove or took a bus or subway to a large research library, or traveled to a distant city to peruse specialized collections and conduct interviews.

In libraries the writer pulled open card catalog drawers and flexed fingers through the cards, hiked through miles of stacks, stretched up or squatted down, then lifted and carried twenty-pound tomes to a carrel.

Some writers still do old-fashioned tasks, but many more turn on computers to find research materials in London or Tokyo. Others use Wikipedia as their all-night convenience store.

Sitting is Scary

The scariest fact I found in my research was a 2010 study by the American Cancer Society which lumped writers with obsessive TV watchers in the field of “inactivity studies” concerned with health, longevity, and obesity. The study found that sitting time was independently associated with mortality, regardless of physical activity.

Todd Sinett, author of The Truth About Back Pain, says sitting not only lessens blood flow to the discs that cushion your spine (wearing them out and stressing your back), but puts 30% more pressure on the spine than standing or walking. 80% of Americans suffer from back pain at some point in their lives. If you don’t already have issues, you need preventative measures.

If that’s not enough, a 2011 study in the American Journal of Epidemiology reported that people who spent a decade or more doing sedentary work were almost twice as likely to develop cancer of the lower colon compared to those with physically active jobs, regardless of all recreational physical activities. Inactivity also may encourage tumor growth due to inflammation.

What’s a writer to do when hours at a gym or track cannot make up for time spent sitting at a desk?

Basic tips:

Take breaks
Stand up frequently 

Move around

Excerpt from Relaxing the Writer

Chapter 2 The Ergonomic Writer

Recent Articles:

"To Decrease Cancer Risk, Stand Up" by Sophie Quinton in the National Journal (November 3, 2011)

"Weaving Actitivy into Your Work Day Important to Maintain Good Health,"

James Levine, M.D. PhD, Endocrinology Mayo Clinic in Mayo Clinic Medical Edge Newspaper (November 4, 2011)

Smashwords 

February Discount 29%

Relaxing the Writer: 

Guidebook to the Writer's High

ebook!

 Use this Smashwords code:

 JL48N

through February 29th

Rather have the print edition

Amazon

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Or read on your Kindle

Relaxing the Writer 

the perfect gift for 
your favorite writer 
or yourself

Love, Serendipity, and Chocolate

Love, Serendipity, and Chocolate

by Amber Polo

Indulge me as a republish my annual Valentines Day post.           

Once upon a time in1994. I was the marketing manager for a Boston conference taping company and my boss’s Polish wife decided to throw a party. Registered for a weekend regional Mensa conference at a hotel west of Boston, I was more interested in getting away from my co-workers than socializing with them. But, when your boss has a party, you go, even if the weather is awful and you know traffic to the west suburbs will be hell.

            So I ate Jolanta’s thick potato soup and dark bread and waited for the earliest polite moment to leave. At last, blocking the door, she told me I must take sweet treats with me. I opened my briefcase and she dropped in a handful of candy. I smiled and ran down the steps to head into Friday rush hour traffic.

            At the hotel Regional Gathering on Friday evening I met old friends. On Saturday morning I had my first ever tarot card reading. Still trying to make sense of the intricate cards, I walked into the Clear Thinking Workshop. I was not particularly interested in thinking; Thinking meant questions and I wanted answers. What did the future hold for me, my career, my fortune, and, most of all, my love life? Was it too much to hope to meet the love of my life? And soon?

            Sitting next to me, with obviously a more serious interest in clear thinking, was Vince Polo, an attractive, age-appropriate man from Maryland with a big smile. Vince and I left the workshop and over the next six hours drank a lot of coffee, discussed our lives, and shared personal stories and feelings. Vince’s intelligence, sense of humor, good looks, honesty, and his intense interest in me were irresistible. He stayed for the evening banquet, returned for sessions on Sunday and decided to stay in Boston for another day so we could have dinner on Monday evening.

            Sunday night, as I was unpacking my weekend luggage, I up-ended my bag and out fell two “Prince Polo Krunche wafel z kremem Kakawym oblewane naturalna Czekolada” candy bars in gold foil wrappers.

Had I found my prince?

Here's a photo from our Arizona wedding!

            A Polish deli near Sedona’s Well Red Coyote bookstore stocks Prince Polo chocolate-covered wafer candy bars. And like all the Polish people I've questioned, the deli owners agree the candy bars have been around forever and the name has no significance.

See what Wikipedia says 

Relaxing the Writer

Guidebook to the Writer's High

Smashwords 

February Discount 29%

Relaxing the Writer: 

Guidebook to the Writer's High

ebook!

 Use this Smashwords code:

 JL48N

through February 29th

Rather have the print edition

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Or read on your Kindle

Relaxing the Writer 

the perfect gift for your favorite writer or yourself

Mike Bove, Mystery Writer and Golfer!

Welcome Mike Bove, mystery writer and golfer!

Amber: What keeps you a relaxed creative writer? Or brings you back when stress takes over? 

Mike: In order to really get into a writing session I need to have my head clear.  To keep my mind from wandering, impending chores or responsibilities must be taken care of first.  I am most relaxed in  the morning.  I am ready to write after a shower, coffee, and the newspaper.  Later in the day I am most likely to have a good session after fifteen minutes in the hot-tub, especially if a round of golf or yard work preceded it.  That fifteen minutes usually includes breathing exercises and thoughts of what's next in the manuscript.  I don't think I get overly stressed about most situations.  Take it as it comes, do what you are able, move on.      

Amber: How does golf relax you? Using the categories in "Relaxing the Writer" would you call golf meditative, active, or sensual/artistic for you?

Mike: If you ask me questions like this about golf, you might get a new book from me.  Golf can be relaxing and it can be very stressful.  The whole point to playing golf is twofold.  One, relax and have fun.  Two, the stressful part, it's a competition (against yourself or someone else) so you are trying to achieve the best score.  Without one, two is impossible.  I have learned over many years in the game that relaxing, physically and mentally is vital to scoring well.  How?  Be positive, never entertain negative thoughts. 

Sometimes (many times) a shot doesn't happen as I pictured it.  I try to go right on to planning the next shot after a bad one.  A French word may be uttered, but that's it, it's over.   

I'm in a beautiful place out in the fresh air, feeling the sun and breeze, playing a game with friends.  I see and smell acres of manicured green grass, there are lots of trees, a pond, birds and rabbits.  So I relax, it's easy. Thoughts seldom wander to health, finances, writing, or the broken water pipe at home.  Maybe I play golf because it is relaxing.  

For me, I think golf would fit into all of the categories in Relaxing The Writer. I will do brief breathing exercises at certain times to help focus on a shot.  It is certainly both a physical activity requiring some skill, and and an exercise for the mind in choosing the correct club and action for each shot.  

Amber: How has golf influenced your writing?

Mike: style, came naturally, I think, from being immersed for so long in the golf culture.   Conversations, settings, activity, and people on and around the course all provide ideas in developing characters and a story.  I am really comfortable when in the whole golf atmosphere.  I am much more outgoing there than in most other social situations.  I guess I am very relaxed there. And, as you surely know, being relaxed can help a great deal when writing.

Amber: Since fiction (even cozy mysteries) is filled with conflict, what do your characters do to release stress? 

Mike: Some do the normal things like yelling, joking, smoking weed.  In the next book Bruce uses the hot-tub a lot.  He will bake some bread or walk his dog, or go out to eat. 

An excerpt from Willowtree:

Keely sat at my feet with her hedge hog “baby” in the living room while I tried to line up the facts that I learned from Holton, Ben, and Mrs.R. during the past day and a half.  Actually they didn't mean a lot, just facts, things we knew.  But strung together, these facts all bothered me. Calvin dead, Martin dead, both near the ranch. Bob, or Squeek supposedly weird, Vernon, Doc’s buddy, long gone.  Miggy-Mike.  Maybe all unrelated, maybe not.

To stop the race of Persistent Automatic Thoughts from taking over, I decided to bake the bread. That was one, golf was another, activity that kept PATS away.  I formed the round loaves and placed them on cornmeal sprinkled on pie plates. My invention, at least I never heard of anyone baking bread in pie plates. I reasoned that the heat from the sloping, round walls of the pie plate made the finished loaf perfectly round. They sat, rising, under a clean towel for over an hour while I checked my email. I signed in on the Golf Association website and got my handicap info up to date.

The three dough balls were becoming bread in the hot oven when Genny came into the aroma filled kitchen. She said that it reminded her of the wonderful smell outside the bakery she passed while walking to school.  Genny had a good day at the nursing home. She said she enjoyed working there. It was nice to have her home for a quiet evening.  Genny was another thing that kept PATS away. With her, all of my attention was hers. I loved her so much.  Away from her, many PATS were about her.

We enjoyed a gigantic salad she made with fresh veggies she picked up at a Sedona farmers market on the way home.  Also a whole loaf of warm bread.

  "Willowtree A Bruce DelReno Mystery" is Mike Bove's mystery celebrating his love of golf and the retired life in Arizona.  

Mike grew up in Vermont. He wrote articles and drew cartoons for his college newspaper. Mike was involved as an actor and director in high school, college and community theater. He adapted a Russian folk tale, The Nosebag, for the stage, produced and directed it. He was a public school teacher, track, and soccer coach before moving to Cape Cod. There he became an avid fisherman and golfer. He joined the Postal Service, transferred to Sedona, retiring in 2010.
"Willowtree" Is Mike's first novel in the Bruce DelReno Mystery Series. He lives in Cottonwood, AZ with wife, Jane, and Golden Retriever, Ceile.

Learn more about Mike and Willowtree

His website

 

His blog 

Amazon (print and Kindle) 

Barnes and Noble 

Smashwords

Why I Write Fantasy - James Hutchings

Welcome James Amber: Why do you write fantasy?
James: I like the fact that you can have a striking idea and have it in the story in its most direct form. You don't have to justify why the trees in the forest actively want to make people get lost, they just do, and the power of it is that other people have had a similar thought and recognize it.

Amber: Why dark fantasy?

James: What I mean by 'dark fantasy' is that I'm trying to break away from the very narrow idea of fantasy that some people have: huge books, probably a series of huge books, set in an imaginary, medieval-like world (maps of which are at the front), in which a humble hero gets caught up in a battle for the fate of that world...all very much based on the template set down by Lord of the Rings, perhaps as interpreted by games like Dungeons and Dragons and World of Warcraft. I like Tolkien, but he's overshadowed a lot of other ways of writing fantasy which I think are just as interesting, and which have influenced "The New Death and others."
 
Amber:  What are your favorite fantasy novels?
James: I like short stories a lot more than novels. But probably The Hobbit.

Amber: Why do readers love fantasy?
James: Why I love fantasy seems to be quite different to why a lot of other people love it.

A lot of fantasy now days seems to be 'fantasy for people that hate fantasy'. For example it seems to me that Twilight would have almost exactly the same story if the Cullens were car thieves instead of vampires (in the movie he's even looks like a sort of 50s hoodlum). So in that case maybe it's a sort of stand-in for the real thing - like a story about going out with a car thief is too confronting, but having it be about vampires makes it just pretend?

Likewise all those stories about court politics and/or romantic entanglements in an imaginary kingdom. If that's what you're interested in, why not read or write historical novels?

Amber: Would you write fantasy even if no one read it?
James: Definitely not. I write to be published. But having said that, I can't imagine no one reading fantasy. Even if there was no genre of fantasy (and there wasn't until relatively recently), the actual story elements would still be there.

James Hutchings lives in Melbourne, Australia. He fights crime as Poetic Justice, but his day job is acting. You might know him by his stage-name 'Brad Pitt.' He specializes in short fantasy fiction. His work has appeared in Daily Science Fiction, fiction365 and Enchanted Conversation among other markets. His ebook collection The New Death and others, is now available from Amazon, Smashwords and Barnes & Noble. He blogs daily at Teleleli.

The New Death and Others

Death gets a roommate...

An electronic Pope faces a difficult theological question...

A wicked vizier makes a terrible bargain...

44 stories. 19 poems. No sparkly vampires. There's a thin line between genius and insanity, and James Hutchings has just crossed it - but from which direction?

Why I Write Fantasy - Ariana and Mythpunk

Why I Write Fantasy by Ariana and Mythpunk

Yesterday I visited my thesis supervisor. We chatted for a little while about writing and my plans for grad school, and some of my faculty's upcoming writing contests. He asked me if I've written about "anything that could possibly happen to someone living here in this city." I thought for a moment, and then I said no.

He chuckled a little, and then he asked, "What started your love affair with fantasy?"

I thought about it for a second, and then I told him a few stories.

When I was a little girl, just four or five years old, I never played with Barbies or dolls. I had a variety of plastic animal figurines, and I'd spend all of my time outside, playing with them in the grass and dirt. I was a bit of an animal geek, and spent all my time reading animal encyclopedias. I was fascinated by what I read. There was never enough information for me.

My favourite animals, though, were wolves, bats, rats, lions, and poison dart frogs. When I would go to sleep at night, I'd sleep with a black plastic rat and a plastic bat, both of which squeaked, and had red eyes.

"You could be a witch," my supervisor said.

Then I told him this story.

When I was six, I wanted a pair of antlers. Not fake antlers. Real deer antlers. I needed them. To be honest, I am not sure why I wanted them so badly. But it was a deep, visceral need in me. I wasn't quite happy with being human. My dearest wish was to be a wolf. But deer antlers would have to do in the meantime.

Well, I got them for Christmas. Real deer antlers, two lovely spikes with three tines on each, jutting up from a small triangle of skull. That cemented my belief in Santa for several more years. I would hold them to my head rapturously and gaze in the mirror, imagining having them for real. It was only a few years ago that I learned how I got them.

My parents went to my grade one teacher, saying, "Help us, Ariana wants deer antlers in the worst way, we don't know what to do, our daughter is really weird."

And my teacher's brother was a hunter, and she got him to save the antlers from the next deer he killed for me. He cleaned them up and sent them to my parents. Reason #295 why my parents are amazing.

Of course, I am not mentioning how much I loved fairy tales and mythology as a kid. I had a book of Greek myths, countless fairy tale anthologies and stand-alone stories, and an endless amount of imagination. In my mind, animals always talked, and the wind was a goading force that tempted me away from home, and I'd kiss trees affectionately because I was happy they were alive. I was happiest when I imagined I was flying, a Swan Maiden, part-cat, part-wolf, magical, a Faerie, transformative.

I've never been satisfied with reality.

As I got older, and Pretend wasn't always a viable game, I read more and more. My favourites? The Golden Compass, The Sight, Harry Potter. They opened up my mind to even more possibilities. They were my games of pretend come to spectacular, beyond-my-imagination life.

Even now, I find it hard to describe what my mind is like. It's full of stories, and wishes, and garnets and grease and cinquefoil and tea and silk and shadows and bones and feathers. I add narratives to everything around me. My highest aspiration is to live a life that can match my dreams. The wind still tempts me away from home.

I couldn't stop writing fantasy if I tried. It's a part of me, in the way that antlers are not. 

Favourite authors: J.K. Rowling, Neil Gaiman, Catherynne M. Valente, Holly Black, Diana Wynne Jones, Philip Pullman, and Haruki Murakami.

Ariana.

Ariana F.

I'm twenty-two years old and a university student in Canada. I'm in my last year of studying English Language and Literature as well as Creative Writing, and I am planning on pursuing my MLIS degree. I'm currently writing a creative writing thesis, a collection of short stories focusing on transformation, folklore, and magic.  

I write primarily for a Young Adult audience, and I think the best way to describe my writing is mythpunk *. Fantasy literature has been a part of my life ever since I could choose my own books. I've been published in Cicada magazine, as well as my university's writing zine, and I'm hoping that this is just the beginning of my career. I blog at Wolf in the Fable

*""a subgenre of mythic fiction" in which classical folklore and faerie tales get hyperpoetic postmodern makeovers." Coined by author Catherynne M. Valente, the term describes a brand of speculative fiction which starts in folklore and myth and adds elements of postmodern fantastic techniques: urban fantasy, confessional poetry, non-linear storytelling, linguistic calisthenics, worldbuilding, and academic fantasy.

Characterized by baroque multicultural fashion, alternative/ queer sexuality, bizarre retellings of familiar faerie tales, pervasive anxiety, fear of inevitable change, elaborate symbolism and radical reinterpretation, mythpunk is a cross-media movement. Although largely defined through literary works like Andrea Jones's Hook & Jill, Francesca Lia Block's Weetzie Bat series and Catherynne Valente's The Orphans Tales, the mythpunk aesthetic occasionally manifests in music (The Decemberists), film (Pan's Labyrinth), jewelry and other media forms.

Why I Write Fantasy - Pat McDermott

The Balm of Fantasy 

Aren’t there enough troubling issues to write about for teenage readers without making stuff up?

Sure. That’s one reason why I write fantasy. Not only did I used to be a teenager, I also had two in the house for thirteen years or so. Their experiences gave me some knife-edged refreshers on what it’s like to be a teen. As if I could forget.

I recall my own teenage years well because I disliked them so much. Many teens do, for reasons ranging from embarrassing skin to curfews and cliques, STDs and mental health, body image, peer pressure, bullying, depression, drug abuse, and worse. Being a teenager is, and always has been, hard work.

Some teens find comfort reading about characters plagued by problems akin to theirs. Others prefer to bury themselves in rousing adventures that help relieve stress for a while. Those looming final exams don’t seem so desperate when vampires, werewolves, dragons, and aliens threaten the world.

During my teens, I often sought refuge in tales like Treasure Island, Great Expectations, the Hardy Boys mysteries, Peter Pan, and all sorts of fairy tales. Even better, I started creating my own escapes. I love to write and have three adventures coming soon from MuseItUp: the "Band of Roses" stories, alternate histories set in an Ireland that might have been. Glancing Through the Glimmer is the "prequel" to that trilogy.

Glimmer’s hero and heroine, Liam Boru and Janet Gleason, struggle to deal with their own teenage issues. Their problems fall by the wayside when the King of the Fairies decides he’d like to dance with Janet—for the next few centuries. Danger and magic shadow her and hinder her budding romance with Liam. What would you do if you were Janet? Or if you were Liam, could you fight fairy enchantment to save her? Can Janet save Liam when the Fairy King turns on him? (I sure hope so. I need them both for the sequel.)

Whether readers identify with a character, or whether they simply enjoy going along for the ride, fantasy offers a respite from the world’s afflictions, and not just for teens. I love all genres of YA—but I still like the fantasy best.

Pat McDermott

Born and educated in Boston, Massachusetts, Pat grew up in a family full of music and myths that have found their way into her stories. Her "Band of Roses" trilogy and her young adult novel, GlancingThrough the Glimmer, are romantic adventures set in an Ireland that might have been. One of her short stories, By the Light of My Heart, was featured in the recently released Mammoth Book of Irish Romance. Pat is a member of the New Hampshire Writers' Project, Seacoast Writers' Association, Romance Writers of America, and Celtic Hearts Romance Writers. Pat's favorite non-writing activities include cooking, hiking, reading, and traveling, especially to Ireland. She lives in New Hampshire, where she is currently working on Autumn Glimmer, the fairy-filled sequel to Glancing Through the Glimmer.

Learn more about Pat McDermott at her website

& her Writing/Travel Blog (Put the Kettle On)

 

Jane Toombs - Why Writing epubs Is Relaxing

What really stresses me about my writing is getting a project done. For example I’m currently working on dividing a long California saga I wrote ages ago into a series of seven separate novellas for Books We Love Publishing Partners to put onto Kindle. Yes, everyone tells me how easy it is to do it myself, but they don’t understand I will never be a techie and do not need the additional stress of trying to be one.  So why do I find this project stressful?  Because I have another half-finished project I really need to be working on since another publisher is waiting for the third book in a different series.  I’m not exactly procrastinating, but it feels like it and I hate feeling this way. 

What tends to relax me and keep me creative?  Well, for the immediate future I’ve resolved when I finish the second novella in the California saga series, I’ll stop and finish the other book I need to turn in, thus taking the pressure in my mind away.  Because, actually, what I’m doing with the saga is only editing. Any revisions are additions to the first chapter at the beginning of each book for clarity, as I’ve already done the work of separating this very long book into seven shorter ones. I’ll then turn in the first two books to BWLPP so they can start working up covers for them and I’ll finish the book I really need to turn in, thus eliminating the stress. 

I’ve stopped writing for NY pubs because killer deadlines were keeping me pretty much always stressed. With additional stress because I was constantly having to remember to fit my books into a line, when I’m really not that kind of writer. By that I mean some of my books need to be sexy and others don’t.   Some need to be paranormal and others don’t.  And so on.  Even though I’m a plotter, not a pantser, because I work with a synopsis, I can’t always foresee what the characters will tell me about themselves as I work with them. I truly love the no-pressure, no-line epubs.   

My primary way to relax is to read. I once compared this to the need to fill up again on words after I’d used up all my current ones in my own stories.  Whatever the reason, reading does relax me so much that I sometimes fall asleep in the middle of a book. Which really has nothing to do with how interesting it is.

I sometimes take  a walk along the beach as I live across the road from Lake Superior’s south shore. Or do a spot of easy gardening, like snapping off old flower heads. Occasionally I do a bit of cooking ahead, like making soup.  For some reason, soup-making is relaxing for me.  Maybe because it reminds me of being a child and watching my mother make soup while we talked. I’ve tried relaxation techniques, but they don’t work for me because I can’t shut off my mind.  I start to feel myself drifting and the next I know, I’m in the midst of creating a plot for another story, which is not relaxing.

So I’ve come to believe that since every writer is an individual, what works for one may not for another. But I believe we all should explore ways to de-stress ourselves because I well-know how tight we can get wound up during the  writing process.  There is no right or wrong way to relax, although it’s wise not to get dependent on drug use for that purpose. That said, I admit to having a vodka tonic with cran-cherry juice and lime every evening before supper with the Viking. But only one.  We have a screened porch where we sit in good weather and watch the birds and chipmunks. I get so relaxed I sometimes fall asleep. My advice to writers is that every one of us should explore every possible way to relax until the “right” way or ways for each individual is found. 

 

Jane Toombs, along with the Viking from her past, lives in Michigan’s beautiful Upper Peninsula wilderness with the Viking from her past and their calico grandcat, Kinko. Jane, multi-published, with books in many languages, writes in all genres, including non-fiction, but excluding men’s action and erotica. She favors paranormal.  Her published book count, including her novellas, is near ninety.  Jane hopes to reach 100 published books before she’s that old. 

Taken In

In New York City Gail Sarandon watches the murder of a man she knows. Afraid the hit man has seen her, she flees her apartment, heading in a rental car for the Adirondacks. Both Secret Agent Jason Tregarth , who intends to turn her over to a US Marshall, and the hit man pursue her. Jason reaches her first, but his attempt to get her to safety is thwarted by the hit man. Jason, Gail with him, is forced to flee. They evade the hit man but the car crashes and burns on a lonely mountain road. Both are forced to take shelter in a old and haunted Victorian called Dagon House…

Excerpt:

Inside Dagon House, one of the three women Jason didn't know took his arm and led him to a chair, standing over him. Gratefully, he sank onto it, glad to be sitting down inside a house, out of the rain. Between the throbbing in his head and the pain in his arm, he couldn't think straight. He had no idea where he was, though he knew one of the women had brought him here from—what? Some kind of accident? But all three were strangers.

"In case you didn't catch my name, Jason," the woman said, "I'm Anita, and I'm a nurse. We're going to get that jacket off and take a look at that injured left arm of yours."
Even though she was careful removing the jacket, he was forced to clench his teeth against the pain. Anita set a towel on his knees and he watched blood drip onto it.
"Krystal," she said, "please bring me my first aid kit."
"I know where it is," a child's voice said. "I can get it."
"Krystal will take of that," Anita said. "Just what are you doing out of bed?"
"I heard someone knock and I got scared."
"As you can see, everything is all right. Take Rex upstairs with you for company. "
"That man's arm is all bloody, Mom."
"I'm going to fix it. Go back to bed. Now."
"Come on, Rex, " the child called. The brown mixed-breed dog wuffed and followed the dark-haired girl from the room. Jason figured she was about ten. She had her mother's hazel eyes. The blond woman who must be Krystal had already disappeared.
"You have a long gash on your forearm that needs stitches," Anita told him. "I don't know what else might be wrong with the arm, but I don't think any bones are broken."
Krystal returned with the kit, set it on the table beside Anita and opened it.
"I'll pad your arm with gauze to stop the bleeding till we can get you an emergency room.," Anita said.
"No ER." Jason's tone was clipped.
Anita gave him an assessing look. "Do you have any other injuries?"
Involuntarily, Jason's right hand rose to his forehead.
She took a penlight from the kit , bent over and shone it into one eye, then the other. Then she ran her hands over his head, He winced when she touched the left side.
"Some swelling," she said. "So you banged your head in that car wreck. Your pupils are both the same size, so you're okay so far, but you really need an X-ray to be sure you don't—"
"No X-rays. No hospital."
Anita looked at the woman who'd brought him here.
"He has a reason," the woman said.
So she knew him. A blade of fear sliced through Jason. Why didn't he know her? But she was right. There was some reason he couldn't be taken to any hospital. If only he could remember what it was.
Anita looked from her back to Jason. "Since I told you no one asks questions in this house, I'll have to give you both the same courtesy. But I do recommend you see a doctor, and will be glad to drive you to an ER. "
"That's not an option," Jason told her.
"Okay, understood. You both need to get out of those wet clothes." She turned to Krystal. "Why don't you take Gail upstairs and get her into something dry. Once she's set, you could see if there are any men's clothes in those attic trunks." Focusing on Jason, she told him, "I'll stitch you up first. Got to warn you, though. I don't have any local anesthetic, much less any curved needles or sutures. I'll have to sterilize a regular needle and thread for the job."
"Do whatever needs to be done." Now he knew Gail was the name of the woman who brought him here. Why didn't it sound familiar? What the hell was wrong with his mind? And what was this no questions business?
The stitching-up hurt him every bit as much as Anita had warned, plus her moving his arm caused excruciating pain. When she finished and was bandaging up her work, she shook her head. "What is it with men? Wouldn't have bothered me a bit if you'll yelled every time I stuck the needle in. But, no, men like you always have to prove how rugged they are."
Men like him? What did she mean? When she finished, he rose from the chair and had to grab the table top when the room whirled. Without thinking he used both arms and couldn't avoid grunting from the pain in his left one. He sat back down and closed his eyes.
"So you're dizzy. Not surprising," she said.
"Arm hurts if I try to use it." he confessed. "May need some aspirin."
"I told you I didn't find any broken bones when I checked. My guess is you've got some bruised muscles from whacking that arm on something during the accident. They'll heal in time, but they'll go on hurting till they do. I'll fetch some aspirin. In the mean time, you sit right here. Put your head down on the table if you feel faint. Don't try to get up until Krystal comes back downstairs. All the bedrooms and the only bathroom are upstairs. It'll take the two of us to get you there."
Jason hated the fact he needed help, but she was right. He wouldn't make it on his own. He hoped the aspirin would help clear his head.
After the hot shower she'd dreamed of, Gail, dried off and put on the gray sweat pants and T-shirt Krystal had given her. The watch resting on the washbasin had both hands on twelve. Midnight. She left the bathroom just as Anita hit the stair landing.
Anita opened a door and gestured for Gail to enter. "I'm putting you in this bedroom with the twin beds. Your husband will need checking on during the night, so I'll bring you an alarm clock and a flashlight."
Gail opened her mouth to set Anita straight about their relationship, but bit back the words. If she didn't check on Jason, then Anita would have to, and she'd done enough already. 

To find out more about 

Taken In 

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