Oh meow Lord, this is so embarrassing that I’m blushing!
For several months now, I, Effing Feline, have been writing the 8 Sentence Sunday blog posts for Mr. Valentine, aka Edward Hoornaert. Well, you’ve undoubtedly seen the shocking pictures on 60 Minutes, the National Enquirer, NY Post, YouTube, etc–but in case you haven’t, Ed is determined to teach me a lesson. He’s holding catnip just out of my reach to force me to display one of the scandalous pictures here. Oh, the shame of it!
Okay, so I don’t do my own typing for my Eight Sentence Sunday column. So what? The bird hunts and pecks faster than I do, and he works for chicken feed!
Today’s excerpt (Yes, it was typed by the bird. Give me a break already!) is from Ed’s new science fiction romance, Alien Contact for Idiots. Heroine Ell is chatting with a Native American he-man from an alternate Earth, Prince Tro, about differences in the histories of their worlds.
A log in the fireplace crackled, as though sharing her disbelief, and a glowing ember exploded onto the grey ashes below the grate. After sitting on the same couch as Tro for half an hour without being able to touch him, she knew how the ember felt.
“You must be joking—no Albert Einstein in your Earth’s history?” Ell said. “He was the greatest scientist since Newton.”
“My regrets for disappointing you,” Tro said, “but no.”
“I’m not sure I’d like your Earth, then. Einstein is my idol—I even have a poster of him on the ceiling over my bed.”
“Is he so handsome, then?”
“To a scientist like me, yes.”
(Just got an IM. An Adoring Fan wants to know who the cat on the computer screen is. That’s my cousin Willie. The bird had tweeted him to ask if he ate the laptop’s mouse, which discerning viewers will have noticed is missing. You noticed it, didn’t you?)