Hello ladies, and if you're out there lurking, gents. Myg here, bringing you this dramatic pause in your regularly scheduled Osa Bella update.
Feel free to take this time to go catch up on other things, you know, laundry, re-organizing your shoes, calling your second cousin to wish her good luck on her divorce. Whatever it is you might have otherwise neglected in order to read Chapter 33, I encourage you to go on and do that.
I had to make an executive decision this week whether to kill you all with some fairly evil cliffies or to give you one long-ass chunk of story to finish you off. Yes, I said finish you off. And I meant it.
|This is a piece of art called "Cliff Ogres." I'm the one on the right.|
I decided to go with the latter course of action because, really, I would fucking hate to be left on the cliff of the next two chapters, personally. There's some fair warning for you. I didn't write this serially, and I don't think it necessarily reads best that way. I feel like to give you all the best reading experience, I need to hand you the last three chapters at once. So that's what I'm going to do. But, I won't have all 15k+/- words of it ready for you until next Saturday. I am sorry for that, but I do think you'll understand my reasoning when you read it.
In other news, Osa Bella and I were nominated for our very first ever fic awards! Am I a douche for bringing that up? I don't know what the proper etiquette is on something like this. We're up for "best all around story" and "best author" rising star awards for the Hidden Star Awards. These awards are for stories who haven't won any or many awards. I'm totally flattered to have been nominated.
Anyway, I can't fucking believe it's almost over, you guys. When it's all said and done, I will have so much to say to you about how incredible writing this story and sharing it with you has been. I am over the moon that I can give a bunch of you real hugs and ass slaps when we all get to Forks.
I've got to stop typing this now, because I've got three fucking chapters to wrestle into shape for my small army of betas (without whom, Osa Bella would be hardly a shadow, a whimper of what she is by the time you read her).
Love and kisses until next Saturday,