[Chinese-authors] Fwd:

[Sandra Oconnell]

He was drifting off and knew he shouldnt - if she came in here and caught him cooping instead of writing she would be mad - but he let himself drift anyway. The first sweep of the axe did no more than knock the wind from him - this was really what he thought until he landed on the carpet smelling his own blood.

The first sweep of the axe did no more than knock the wind from him - this was really what he thought until he landed on the carpet smelling his own blood.
"She stared at him, that furious black gaze, and must have seen the truth in his face, because after a moment she slung him contemptuously back in the chair.
Paul settled hands he could barely feel on the wheels and rolled the chair toward the hallway, sparing one glance at the ceramic penguin on its block of ice.
"She was looking at him with that disconcerting _expression_ of matemal love and tenderness - disconcerting because of the total solid blackness underlying it.

He was drifting off and knew he shouldnt - if she came in here and caught him cooping instead of writing she would be mad - but he let himself drift anyway. The first sweep of the axe did no more than knock the wind from him - this was really what he thought until he landed on the carpet smelling his own blood.

The first sweep of the axe did no more than knock the wind from him - this was really what he thought until he landed on the carpet smelling his own blood. "She stared at him, that furious black gaze, and must have seen the truth in his face, because after a moment she slung him contemptuously back in the chair. Paul settled hands he could barely feel on the wheels and rolled the chair toward the hallway, sparing one glance at the ceramic penguin on its block of ice. "She was looking at him with that disconcerting _expression_ of matemal love and tenderness - disconcerting because of the total solid blackness underlying it.