Posted by: Author | November 25, 2015
Posted by: Author | November 23, 2015
This week’s word prompt for Tuesday Tales is nasty. I like that word. There’s a lot of ways to use it but I’m sticking to the basics today. Be sure to check out the other stories here. Lots of great snippets on hand for your pleasure. I’m still working on my NaNoWriMo story.
As she slept and he drove further north. Graham cast a sidelong glance at her every few miles. He’d somehow let her in past all the guards he’d set up in his heart. In the years since Clara’s death, he’s only allowed himself freedom to care about and dote affection on the children he met in his volunteer work at the hospitals.
Children and his farm animals. They were easy. No expectations other than a treat once in a while and a hug and pat on the back. Grown-ups were much more complicated.
Sure, a man could have his drinking and card-playing buddies and while he might care for them, the tie was loose and not dependent. This caring for another woman was something he’d told himself was never going to happen to and now, somehow, he’d let her in.
He wanted to beat the steering wheel in frustration and anger at himself but he couldn’t bring himself to disturb her.
That elicited a snort.
Olivia started and sat up. She ran a hand over her eyes. “How long did I sleep?”
“A couple of hours. We’re coming into a town. Do you want to eat something?”
“Absolutely. You’re a pretty awesome instant oatmeal stirrer and the dinner of granola bars was exceptional, but I could sure use a real meal.”
“Same here.” He grinned in her direction. “But thanks for the compliments on my culinary skills.”
“Somehow—and don’t ask me how it happened—even my least favorite food, nasty old oatmeal, tasted pretty good with you.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment even though you called my food nasty.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean your oatmeal in particular. I just never eat it anymore since I don’t have to. I had a nanny as a kid that thought it was not only essential to eat for breakfast every day no matter the season but also thought it was a cure-all for whatever ails you. So, in addition to having way too much of it on a daily basis, I also met my quota when I was sick.”
“Funny. I feel the same way about 7-Up. If I drink it, I start to feel sick because that was what my mother always gave us to settle our stomachs.”
“Isn’t weird how we get these food and drink aversions?”
“Sure is but speaking of food, where do you want to eat?” Graham glanced out the car window. “I see an IHOP, a couple of burger joints and a Pizza Hut. Or did you want to go more upscale?”
“Absolutely not. I haven’t had a bath in over twenty-four hours and as Sam said, I need some make-up refreshment so fast food is best, I’m afraid.”
“Let’s do the IHOP then. They have both breakfast and lunch.” He grinned. “You never know, they may have oatmeal.”
“And 7-Up.” She playfully punched his arm. “If you make me order oatmeal, I’m ordering you all the 7-Up in the place.”
“Deal. No making each other eat or drink evil concoctions.” Graham pulled in the parking lot of the IHOP. “Unless I get sick. Then I’ll be wanting the 7-Up.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She opened her door as soon as he parked the SUV.
Posted by: Author | November 18, 2015
Posted by: Author | November 16, 2015
It’s that time again. Time for Tuesday Tales. Come on in and sit a while and read some stories. This week’s word prompt is cup. I’m still in my #NaNoWriMo story- I made the 50,000 words on November 14 but I’m still working on the story. This snippet is just past the part where Olivia has hit two would-be robbers of her bar with a large wrench. The other tales are here at this link. Check them out, too.
“Oh good grief. Everyone get out of my office. If you want to take a statement from me, I’m not talking until I know there will be no charges against me.” Ollie turned to Castro. “Go earn your fee. Listen to the other people as they give statements and then let me know the next step.”
“It don’t work like that pretty lady,” the sheriff said.
“Stop calling me anything besides my name. Just because you’re law enforcement, you don’t have the right to talk down to me.” The lady reminded Rocky of some kind of avenging angel. Those green eyes sparked and practically spit fire as she glared at the sheriff. If he knew the cop, he knew the guy had spent the last fifteen minutes trying to intimidate Ollie.
Glad she was strong enough to stand up to the sheriff—why he’d be surprised after she whacked two dudes with a wrench he didn’t know—Rocky smiled at her, trying to send her mental kudos for being so brave.
She glanced over at Rocky. “What are you smirking about? Glad to see me in the hot seat?”
“I wasn’t smirking. I was being encouraging. The only thing I’m glad about is seeing you standing up to this guy.” He hiked his thumb in the direction of the cop.
“Stop talking to my client. She might say something she shouldn’t.” Castro stepped between Rocky and Ollie.
“I’m not about to do that. What I am going to do is close my door and have a cup of coffee to settle my nerves.” She stared at the four men. “And I may even add some whiskey to that cup so please, all of you, go about your business.”
“I’d like to stay for a moment, if you don’t mind,” Rocky said.
“I mind,” Castro said.
“Your permission isn’t required, man. Just the lady’s.” If he had to manhandle Castro to get him out of the room, Rocky would. He needed a moment to chat with Ollie. Not that he thought she’d listen to him but he wanted to warn her.
“Fine. Suit yourself but talk fast. I’m suddenly exhausted.” She moved to her desk and flopped into the chair behind it.
He studied her face. She did look done in.
“This isn’t over, missy. You still need to give a statement,” the sheriff said as he retreated from the room.
“My name’s not Missy,” she called out.
Posted by: Author | November 16, 2015
Posted by: Author | November 11, 2015
Posted by: Author | November 9, 2015
This week’s word the Tuesday Tales writers are using is flavor. I’m still in the NaNoWriMo story. I had a hard time with this one. When I finally was able to work it in, I did a tiny little happy dance. Be sure to take a look at the other writers’ work. They are awesome. Here’s the link for that.
Inside the house, Rocky tugged his dirty shirt over his head and moved to the kitchen sink. Splashing warm water on his chest and face, he grabbed the dishwashing liquid and put some in his hand. Soaping up, he ran his palms over his neck and chest.
“I could’ve waited for you to take a shower, you know.”
“No worries. I keep a stash of clean shirts down here. I don’t need to change jeans since I’m going to be working some more once I return.”
“You didn’t need to change shirts just to drive me home.”
“I was hoping we could get some lunch together at Myrna’s. No one does chili like she does.”
“You’re right. The flavor is a bit different and I’m not sure what she sneaks in there, but it’s great. You’ve made me hungry now so hurry up.”
Rocky reached around the corner of the propped open swinging door that led into the dining room and grabbed a random t-shirt. He tugged it over his head then turned toward Sam. “Ready.”
Sam laughed and moved his hand up and down to take in the shirt. “Horton Hears a Who? Really? That’s your shirt?”
“Elephant and all.” Rocky grinned.
“Did you pick it out yourself?”
“One of the kids at the hospital sent it last Christmas. I’m happy to wear it. That little guy almost died from injuries in a car accident. If he wants me in Horton, I’ll wear Horton.”
“You need a kid of your own. I got to see how great you were with them yesterday.”
“I’m old fashioned enough to want the wife part first.” Rocky snatched his keys from the countertop. “Come on. Myrna’s chili waits for no man.”
Posted by: Author | November 4, 2015
Posted by: Author | November 2, 2015
I’m back to Tuesday Tales again. I’ve been traveling and having crazy times at the day job so this has been the first week I’ve had the chance to take part in a while. I’ve started a new story for NaNoWriMo (I’m still going to go back to the vampire story) and this week, I’m sharing the first almost 300 words of this new story. Be sure to check out the other tales here.
A view of tumbleweeds and no trees instead of shades of red and orange fall foliage out the window depressed Olivia Jacobs more than anything else about this God-forsaken corner of western Texas. Well, maybe not more than anything, but it sure ran a close second to whatever else she could think of that she missed about early November in New York. Only a little over two years until she could go back. Surely those years would pass faster than the last five. They had to, right?
She stifled a snort. She must be the only woman in history to ever want her twenties to pass as fast as they could.
“What’s with the sad face?” Sharon Brooks, her best friend, asked.
“Nothing.” Olivia shook off the glums that had taken hold of her. “Just hoping that no one picks that song today.”
“You crack me up about that song. I know you hate it for some reason.”
“You have no idea.”
“Since this is your bar, I don’t know why you don’t take the stupid thing out of the jukebox.”
“How quickly you forget? Remember the near-riot when I did?” Olivia gritted her teeth at the memory of the rowdy patrons of this honky-tonk bar she bought when she landed in town two years ago.
She’d immediately set about changing some things in the place and got a lot of flak for it but that one song she despised got the biggest reaction when she took it out of play.
“I still can’t figure out why you wanted to own a country bar when you hate the music. You have to admit, it’s weird.”
Olivia couldn’t tell Sharon the truth. No one could know why she was here and why she chose such a place to hide.
Posted by: Author | October 30, 2015
It’s Friday and yes, I know, I missed the last two. I was visiting my son and hadn’t planned ahead. While I was there, we went to the pumpkin spectacular at the zoo. It was amazing to see the pumpkins they carved and drew on. Movie scenes, movie stars, headless horsemen, phantom of the opera, and even the Beatles. Such amazing art. Here’s a link to the website.
The zoo is named after Roger Williams- and here’s your Friday Fact- he was the founder of a colony in 1636. He named it Providence Plantation and he was a proponent of the separation between church and state. His colony offered refuge for religious minorities and he founded the first Baptist church in America.