On this date in 1895, French film pioneers Auguste and Louis Lumière showed the first commercial movie at a Paris cafe.

Hard to believe 2009 is almost over. And all the news shows are doing segments about the past decade. Never mind that technically the decade didn’t start until 2001, thus doesn’t end until the end of 2010. The media is full of people who apparently can’t do math or read. Do they not do any kind of fact-checking these days?

Anyway. Onward. The only new thing on tonight is a new MythBusters. Woohoo! Love that show!

And I’ll be doing my best to settle back into a writing groove. Gotta kill some zombies!

Lady Angelica Quentin clears her throat. “My dear Miss Lennox, zombies are already dead.”
I frown at her. “Yes, thanks. I know that. I was using artistic license.”
“Sorry. Just making sure.” She settles down next to my desk. “Now, when are you going to, as they say nowadays, ‘hook me up’ with darling Sebastian?”
“Keep this up and maybe I won’t,” I reply.
She laughs, knowing full well I’ll do no such thing, and disappears back from whence she came.
“Bossy characters,” I mutter under my breath.

Reading: I finished up Spy Games last night. I loved this book so much!!! I hope Gina Robinson writes more in this series. I started Murder Had a Little Lamb by Cynthia Baxter. It’s the latest in her Reigning Cats & Dogs series.

For your amusement… our small town local newspaper had a little article/announcement this week about a party being held next week, if I recall correctly. The thing is, it was announced as a SURPRISE party and had the woman’s name, naturally, and picture!!! If she reads our paper, I bet she WAS surprised. LOL!

And now for a meme!

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is: Empress Tori the Philomath of Greater Sodbury Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

Yes, I always suspected I was a long-lost Empress.

A horoscope for today:

An exaggerated attachment to your personal space is not helping matters. Focus on making someone other than yourself happy. Ask a friend to visit your home in order to have him or her offer advice about organizing things.

That last part is something I really need. Though I’m not inviting anybody over tonight. It’s the two hour season finale of Doctor Who. That’s more important than getting organized. Even though I know I’m going be sobbing by the end. *sigh*

Everything else I watch on Fridays is either being pre-empted or is a rerun. So. I finished up reading my Private Eye book last night. I’m thinking it’s time to dig out How to Write Killer Fiction by Carolyn Wheat or The Weekend Novelist Writes a Mystery by Robert J. Ray & Jack Remick.

While watching the show on the History Channel last night about the Spear of Christ (which isn’t really accurate since it wasn’t His spear….) I got to thinking about my Relic Hunter Chick—

Excuse me? You know I hate being called that!

Don’t you hunt for relics, Claire?

Well… technically, I suppose. But I don’t do it to line my own pockets. Oh, I know I’m well paid, but I’m paid to return things to their proper owners. Not sell them to the highest bidder. You know that, too. You’re doing this just to piss me off, aren’t you?

Not true! “Relic Hunter” is just a lot easier to type than “Archaeologist”.

Hmm. I see your point. Okay. Carry on. Tony’s got some crazy scheme he wants me to look into anyway.

Thank you. Give Tony my love.

Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, the show last night gave me an idea for Claire & Tony. Of course, I guess I need to finish their first adventure together before I start thinking about another one….

Jessie frowned. “I know she’s joked about wishing somebody would shoot her and put her out of her misery, but I don’t think she really meant it.”

“Darlin’, I wasn’t going to shoot her. Just fire into the air to get her attention.”

“Oh. Well. In that case, fire away.” She reached for the bottle of whiskey. “And give that over. That rotgut will kill you one of these days.”

“I’ve had worse since my days in that Yankee prison camp.”

Jessie gave an unladylike snort. “I don’t doubt that. Personally, I’d almost kill for a Coke.” A speculative look came into her eyes. “Hmm. I wonder if I could materialize one?”

“You’re the wizard, darlin’. But if you can manage it, I think you should try lighting a fire under our biographer. She needs it worse than you need a Coke.”

“I heard that,” a voice said from On High. “Sorry it’s taking me so long to get back in the groove.” Tori gave them a smirk. “Look on the bright side. At least I haven’t abandoned you for other characters.”

“There is that,” Zack conceded. But he added rather plaintively, “However, I would like to escape the past, if you could set your mind to getting me—” He glanced at Jessie. “—us out of this mess.”

“Who knows? Tonight could be your lucky night.”

He muttered under his breath.

“What was that? I didn’t quite catch that.”

“He said he’d heard that before,” Jessie said, rolling her eyes.

They had a point, Tori admitted to herself. She’d said much the same thing many times before. Maybe it was time to actually deliver.

“Well, sitting here chewing the fat—and what a repulsive turn of phrase that is—with the two of you won’t get the job done. So let me get situated and I’ll hop to it.”

Anyway. Last night had another toe-curling kiss on Veronica Mars between Veronica & Logan.

I’m still letting story ideas percolate on the back burner. I have a lot of stories I’ve already written quite a bit on and I can’t help wondering if I can ever salvage any of them enough to finish. I hate to give up on them, some more than others. But, on the other hand, I have tons of other ideas where all I’ve written down is the bare bones of the idea. :sigh: What to do, what to do….?

Maybe I’ll just let Saint & James amuse me some more…

“I’m not surprised,” Stacy said softly. “Those SEALs ran her ragged yesterday. Not that she didn’t enjoy it.”

Tori snuggled closer to Saint who wrapped his arms around her. All, apparently, without waking up.

Smirking, Stefan replied, “I would say she is still enjoying it.”

“Should we wake them?” Stacy wondered aloud.

“I think not, dragoste. If the SEALs hang around for very long, I suspect she’ll need all the rest she can get.”

Stacy smothered a giggle as Stefan crossed the room to turn on Tori’s computer. He pulled up her email, scanning to see if she had anything of importance that needed her immediate attention.

He suddenly snorted.

Stacy leaned over his shoulder. “What is it?”

He pointed to one item in the inbox. “She does get the most fascinating spam. See the subject?”

“Carrot laundry,” Stacy read. “Ooo-kay. That is just too weird.”

“What are you two doing?” a sleepy voice complained. “Geez.”

The duo turned to see Tori glaring at them.

“Um, good morning,” Stacy said, easing behind Stefan.

Tori yawned, but made no move to extract herself from Saint’s arms. “I repeat, what are you two doing?” She packed a lot of annoyance into the question without ever raising her voice.

“Checking your email,” Stefan said finally.

“That much I figured out on my own, thanks. What I want to know is why? You expecting something on one of my accounts?”

“Well…” The truth was he had used one of her more obscure email addresses to contact a member of his clan.

“Why me?” Tori asked the ceiling. She cut a glance back at Stefan and Stacy. “You both have your own computers. Why are you in my bedroom using mine?”

Stefan sighed. “No one would suspect you of being involved in our—” He glanced at Stacy. “—little problem. So I used one of your accounts to contact one of my cousins. I thought it safer that way.”

“Swell. What am I supposed to do if the people who are after Stacy figure out I know more than is apparent to the naked eye?”

He shrugged. “You have two Navy SEALs fighting over you. I imagine they could protect you.”

Tori rolled her eyes. “I think you should both go away now. I need more sleep.”

Grinning, Stefan sketched a bow. “Our wish is your command, oh, mistress.”

Tori threw a pillow at him, then turned over and went back to sleep.