Catfish Waterdancer

Hi, how are you? :))

So - WTF is an ad/announcement/undecided political ad doing in Wattpad? The LAST FACE I want to see if one with horrible orange pancake makeup!

@BrianMullin0
          Wha happen to the book? You told me I must read this, and I did - as far as it went. Don't tell me Artie packed it in.

Just submitted my entry to The Shortys. It's a changeling of a story, a paranormal mystery called 'The Importance of Signs.' Give it a once-over if you've the time. https://www.wattpad.com/1477390702-little-pieces-in-search-of-a-bigger-picture-the

My apologies that it's been more than a month since my last post. I turned 65 in June, and got quite busy applying for Social Security, getting Medicare to work with California's Medi-Cal, etcetera. Also, helping my dear 86-year-old friend to rewrite her will and trust occupied many phone calls and difficult conversations and tearful decisions.
          
          I will continue to add 18K to 'The Summer I Really Didn't Kidnap Lance Hardwood' to make it ready for the Wattys. I also made a solemn promise to 'Good Old Boys' readers to finish that novel - a promise I intend to make good on.
          
          I'm entering the Smackdown this year, AND SO SHOUD YOU! It's a lot of fun. This was my entrance fee, entitled 'The Survival Game.' https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/372673429/write/1460300484

thank you so much for adding HIT REWIND to your reading list ❤️ hope you enjoy it 

Than you adding my book to your reading list! 

I LOVE your banner picture 'sleeping dragon with kitties'

Thanks to your support, "The Summer I Really Didn't Kidnap Lance Hardwood" made it to the ONC2024's Shortlist! Go Team Pete! Here's another excerpt. They've just escaped from Las Vegas' Bellagio:
          
          "As we climbed the banks onto the sidewalk, a beat-up wood-paneled station wagon pulled up in front of us and gave a series of honks that sounded like a goose undergoing a transformation into foie gras without first being killed. There was a nun in the driver's seat. The window lowered, and Scarlet's voice screamed, "Get in now! Put on these habits and keep low, like you're praying for release from this city of sin!"
          
          She got one look at Thunder and waved her hand in front of her chest. "You too, you incredible hunk, you!"
          
          Thunder stood there, looking perplexed. "Okay! I'm done with the Corps. I came to Vegas for a little fun. And this morning's been a real rollercoaster ride! What do you need me to do?"
          
          "Well now," she chirped, "We have Peter's brains, we have my beauty, and now we have your brawn. And brains, and your..."
          
          "Body?" He said, flexing his biceps. Scarlet was enjoying this. So, truth be told, was I.
          
          "What..." groaned Lance, "What just happened?"
          
          I held my temper and my tongue. "We were just discussing whether we should dismember you now or wait until we get to Yosemite National Park so we can leave your remains for the bears. No! You don't get to ask questions. You are going to tell us all what happened between the time you went to sleep, and the time we found you wrestling in mud under the name Sir Lancelot. After what all of us have just been through, you owe us that!"
          
          He sighed. "It started when my pajamas slipped off..."

Never piss off a Librarian - especially Fluffy! From "The Intergalactic Watchers of Dangerous Things":
          
          "They did WHAT?" yelled the Fylnurjii. "I knew they were bad to the vein when their recruits yanked me out of my home, and when I said I'd file a complaint, they vaporized my little rock finger."
          
          "And you say no one died?" asked Denise, whose wound was healing nicely.
          
          "They're all fine, thanks," I replied. "Now..."
          
          "The kittens too?" Indigo interjected. "I like kittens, and they like me."
          
          "Could be your shell's smell, huh?" twittered the Gradient.
          
          I smiled. It's the little magic things that bring the most joy, after all. "Ask them yourself." I shook my rabbit pelt vigorously, and they popped out, making a beeline for Indigo Bisque. He squealed, happier than a six-year-old with a bag of All Hallow's Eve candy.
          
          The lion moles, whose collective name was Roars-Through-The-Dirt, asked, "We're confused. How can a familiar have familiars of its own?"
          
          I told them that was a good question, one I'd have to ask the goddess. "How many high-level OSSS officials work here in London?"
          
          "I dunno," Bisque said. "Maybe one hundred or so?"
          
          "Are they all bad? Has any one of them been nice to you?"
          
          The Fylnurjii rumbled, "Ms. Berith made sure Flutter Wings had the right food to eat."
          
          "Good. Now, because they think we witches are dead, they're going to declare themselves the winners of tomorrow's match..."
          
          "I though they called it off!" Denise cried.
          
          "They didn't. They brought in another team. But we witches will be there. That's where you all come in. We'd like you to represent us. Denise, I want to take your place. You're not fully healed yet, and you need your rest."
          
          "I've played with worse injuries, but okay." She smiled sweetly.
          
          "Now, Roars-Through-The-Dirt, I want you to show me where the gearboxes and wire power sources are for all the stadium deathball mechanisms. Can we do that now, without being noticed?"
          
          "Hah," they snorted, "Piece of Turnip Cake!"