We finished the first draft Monday. Then we sat in Vermont, St.Louis, and Cincinnati, and went, "Wow." Considering this all started last year in the bar at RWA National in Reno when Eileen said, "I have this great idea for a story, there's this shapeshifter and whenver she tries to have sex, she turns into the guy's mother," and I said, "Have another drink, Eileen," and then several months later we signed a contract to do an anthology of three 20,000 word novellas, and then a couple of months after that we said, "Hey, let's put on a show in the barn!", no, we said, "Hey, let's write a collaborative novel instead!" and now we have a novel of 103,000 brilliant words, and we're going to do a final rewrite at RWA National in Atlanta and then send it off to our brilliant editor . . .
Well, we're just gobsmacked, that's all there is to it.
We'll let you know how the rewrite goes next Wednesday. There may even be pictures. Of us strangling each other.
One hundred and three thousand words. Who knew?