jennickels | NaNo...so whooped that! (Reply)

Yeah, that's right...I finished NaNo. For the 3rd year in a row. w00t!!!!!!!11!!!!
So, my story is standing at a little over 51k right now. I passed 50k somewhere around 2am this morning, crawled into bed, got woke up by hubby feeling frisky around 8am...was too tired to resist, lol. Then the baby started throwing a fit at 8:30am so we got up. Oh well. I'm still working on the story. It's no where near done. I think it will take a couple months of writing off and on to finish the rough draft and then it's going to need some major editing.

Here's an excerpt from a recent chapter (a nice Sam/Jack bedroom scene that gets totally ruined with reality):

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Jack rolled over and curled up close to the person next to him. Wrapping his arm around her he tugged her closer. She giggled in response, pulling his arm down to her waist.

"No giggling," he murmured into the back of her neck getting a shiver and another giggle from her. He couldn't help but smile, pressing his lips to a spot just under her hairline. Her short hair tickled his nose but he resisted the urge to bat it away, not wanting to take his hand from the warmth of the soft skin on her stomach. His other arm was tucked neatly under her neck and beneath the pillow she was laying on.

She sighed as he increased the pressure of his kisses. The sound sent a ripple of electricity down his body. When he moved down her back as far as he could reach without disentangling himself from her she rolled to her back and looked up at him. Her blue eyes were full of sleep and amusement and happiness. She reached up and slid her fingers over the stubble growing on his chin before pulling him down into a soft kiss. His heart sped up, slamming against his rib cage. He pressed his forehead against hers and they both settled back on the pillow.

"Morning," he mumbled to her, "did you sleep okay?"

"Uh huh," she whispered back, her eyes drifting closed and a satisfied kind of smile spreading across her face. The look left a feeling of pride growing inside Jack. He closed his eyes, too, reliving the previous night in his head. After a minute Sam stretched, releasing his arm from her weight. He was flexing his fingers, pins and needles racing up and down his arm when she spoke again. "Are you cooking?"

"Huh?" he asked, now shaking his hand to get feeling back in his fingers.

"I smell something burning?"

"What?" he asked, sitting up. Sam was staring out the bedroom door towards the kitchen. "No one's cooking anything."

"Then what's burning?"

"I don't..." And then he smelled it, too, the sickly sweet smell wrenched his stomach. He tried to swallow but found his throat too dry, burning almost. In fact his whole body felt on fire. A heat radiated from near- by. He reached out to touch Sam's shoulder only to find the heat was coming from her. "Carter," he croaked, his voice hoarse, throat on fire.

She slowly turned. "What's on fire?"

Jack fell backwards off the bed. Sam's face was black, skin charred and peeling.

"Sir?" she asked, her voice sounding far away. "Sir, where are you? Why didn't you come back?"
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Now I just need a title for this thing.