Jillian Chantal

I finished my Christmas story this weekend and this will be the last peek at it for Tuesday Tales. Don’t fret, though as I there will be three stories coming in an anthology this fall and this is one of them.

The word of the week for Tuesday Tales is puzzle. If I was writing a mystery, I’d have my heroine puzzling out a clue, but this isn’t that. 🙂

Be sure to check out the other tales here.

Panicked by the expression on his face and not knowing how to respond, she stared down at her pajamas. “Here I am. Two visitors already today and I’m still in my PJs. Do you mind if I go change?”

“First, I’m kind of digging the snowman theme going on.” He waved his hand to indicate her clothing. “And second, don’t ever change. I like you just as you are.”

“You think you’re so clever. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Embarrassed but hopeful because of the things he was saying and mostly due to the way he was looking at her, Candace darted into her bedroom.

As she shut the door, he called out, “May I use your computer for a second?”

“Sure. Just don’t log on to my banking and see how little I have on deposit.”

Mortified by what she’d said since he’d lost his fortune, she prayed he’d forget that part of the conversation by the time she came back. What a dumb thing to say.

Candace took a quick shower once she saw how wild her hair was. It was a wonder Hank hadn’t cracked up when he talked to her. She looked like one of the scarecrows she’d used to decorate the door to the shop in the fall.

Dressed in a red sweater, black leggings and thick socks, she returned to the living room. Hank was still sitting holding her lap top. He closed it when he saw her. “Thanks. I needed to check on an email I was expecting.”

“No problem.” She sat in the chair facing him. “You don’t have email access on your phone?”

“Nope. I turned it off as I was obsessed with checking it too often. I’ve found when I don’t have access all the time, I tend to live more than I did when I had the phone to my face all the time.”

“Good idea. I like that.”

He leaned forward, making the leather couch squeal a little in protest. “I couldn’t help but notice you had the Oxford site open. You thinking about going?”

“I am. I’ve decided to take your advice and leave town. Getting away from my mother’s reach is the best thing for me.”

“Can’t say I’m not glad about that, but I thought you couldn’t afford to go back when we graduated from high school, so how do you plan to pay for it now with having the shop?”

“I’m selling the shop. Even if I have to take a loss.”

Hank had a puzzled frown on his face. “It’s as bad as all that?”

“Yeah.” Candace nodded. “I learned something disturbing about my mother and Angela yesterday.”

This week on Tuesday Tales, we’re all writing to picture prompts- I’m still working on my Christmas tale and chose a holiday themed photo.

Please be sure to check out the other tales and see what picture each author chose and how they used in in their story. Link to Tuesday Tales site.

He smacked his hand on his thigh. “Darn. I was hoping she was complimenting you on the lovely flowers and decorations at the church.”
Candace laughed. “You are naive if you thought that for a second. That woman never complimented anyone in her life unless there was something in it for her.”
“And neither has your mother.”
“I don’t disagree with that.” Candace shivered.
“I know it’s cold.” Hank glanced backward. “And much as I’d like to continue this conversation, I have obligations and need to get back to the reception.” He touched her lightly on the hand. “I know tomorrow is Christmas Eve, but can I come by your place in the morning to talk for a bit?”
She nodded. So much for not risking her heart. The treacherous thing was already hoping he wanted to see her to discuss a future together. “That’ll be fine. Say around nine? That’ll be late enough for you to recover from any hangover.”
“I’m not drinking.” He smiled. “Nine works. I’ll see you then and bring bagels.” Tilting his head toward the building they just left, he added, “unless I can talk you into coming back inside.”
“It’s best if I head home. Trust me on this.”
“I do. You know best when your mother is on a rampage. I’ll be interested to hear what she’s mad at you about this time.”
“Then I’ll see you in the morning.” Candace turned and hurried to her car. She didn’t need one more person interfering with her movements tonight.
All she wanted to do was be home in her own living room, in front of her Christmas tree with the lights shining out onto the snow and cozy inside. And to have a good cry over a ruined evening.

It’s Tuesday again. Time for some tales from a group of authors writing to the same word prompt. The word of the week is corn and I was a bit challenged on how to work it in. 🙂 I am still working on my Christmas story.  Hank, the former high school sweetheart of the heroine has agreed to help her in her floral shop as she’s short-handed.

Be sure to check out the other tales here

While Hank busied himself on the task Candace gave him, she tried not to watch his every move. He had to still be playing soccer some since he was so fit. She bet he could still wear the same clothes he had in high school. She kept tossing glances in his direction as she prepared the matching vase she was using for the second arrangement.

In a few minutes, he returned to her side with some unopened roses, fern greenery and babies breath. “I think this will do it.” He placed them gently on the work table. “I also found these. I guess they’re left over from Halloween?” Hank waggled a small baggie of candy corn in front of her. “As I recall, these were Angela’s favorite. Did she hide them back there?”

Candace giggled. “They were her favorite even though I always teased her that they tasted like wax.”

“Is she all right? You say they were her favorite in the past tense.”

“Oh no, she’s fine. Just hasn’t eaten those in many years.” Candace shook her head. “She’s married now and has two little kids. Twins. She never lets them eat sweets. Drives my mother crazy.”

“I’m glad she’s better and has apparently found a good man. As I recall, she wasn’t well for a couple of years.”

“She wasn’t. I was glad when she and Todd started dating. At first, it was scary, but he seemed to really care for her and she told him all about her suicide attempt. The fact that she was able to be honest with him and he stayed was all important to my family. With her fragile psyche, we wanted her to be careful about becoming involved with another man.”

Candace couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. That year of hell after her sister’s high school love broke her heart after he left for college almost was the undoing of their family. Her pain culminated in the suicide attempt and hospitalization right after Hank moved south for school. Angela had been sure Candace would receive the same treatment. In order to calm her, Candace told her she’d broken off the relationship with Hank herself. It was a terrifying time.

“I’m glad to hear it. I haven’t spoken to or seen her since then and was curious about how she was doing.” He held up the bag again. “What about these then? Are they your new secret vice?”

Glad for the change of subject, Candace shook her head. “Nope. Never. Those were left over from the high school’s Halloween fundraiser for funds for their prom. The junior class sold orange and black carnations tied together with the candy bags. I made them for them. One of the bags must’ve fallen off.”

“I’m going to eat them, then.” He opened the bag, popped some in his mouth and had to bend down to pick up two that fell on the floor.

“Knock yourself out. They’re hideous.”

I am still working on my new Christmas story. This is the beginning of the second scene.  The word of the week is knife. Remember, there are a number of us writers sharing tales – check them out. They are amazing story tellers.

Be sure to check out the other tales here.

Dashing quickly into the grocery store on her way home, Candace pulled her collar up to keep the cold wind from sliding down her back. She’d left home that morning without realizing the temperature was going to drop so much before the shop closed. Now she was paying the price. The denim that was too warm in the early fall was now not nearly enough to keep her comfortable.

She took a package of oatmeal off the shelf and tried to recall if she had any grape jelly at home to put in it in the morning. Thinking she didn’t, she made her way to that section and picked up a jar.

Still shivering and needing to grab a bit of milk so she could have some warm cocoa when she got home, Candace was tempted to skip it since she’d never thaw out in the refrigerated section. Deciding to head down the aisle with the boxed hot chocolate she didn’t really like, she made a U-turn as soon as she arrived at the aisle before the dairy case.

Her stomach lurched as she recognized Priscilla Kane at the other end accompanied by both her soon-to-be husband and her brother.

It had been eight years since Candace had seen Hank, but she recognized his physique immediately, even from the back. He’d been a soccer player and had the leg and buttock muscles those guys always seemed to have.

She scurried to the refrigerated section after all and prayed they wouldn’t come to that area of the store. She couldn’t breathe. It was as if someone had stuck a knife in her left lung and deflated it.

“Great. Just great. All these years and now this,” Candace muttered under her breath.

I’m back after a long hiatus. I had surgery and it almost seemed as if the doctor also removed my creativity, but I’m back. I started a Christmas story and here is the opening of it. The word of the week for Tuesday Tales is worn.

Check out the other tales here.

A blast of cold air smacked into Candace Miller’s body as if an arctic breeze had been let lose inside the flower shop.

She glanced up from the worn, wooden table covered in almost as many dings as flowers, greenery and baby’s breath, to find her best friend, Amy Chamberlain, standing there staring into the shop. “Shut that door. You’ll kill these roses with that frigid air.”

“That won’t happen. I know you keep them in a cooler any way.” Amy stepped inside and leaned against the door with her arms behind her back. “I’ve got news, Candy. Very interesting news.”

“What’s that? And it’s Candace, remember?” Candace didn’t really care about gossip but her pal loved to dish the dirt on their friends and neighbors.

“Yeah, yeah. Candace. I can’t seem to keep it straight that you don’t want to go by your nickname anymore.” Amy moved closer to Candace’s work table. She leaned on it. “Guess who came home for his sister’s wedding?” She nodded at the arrangement Candace was putting together.

“First of all, how can you keep forgetting about my name? It’s been eight years.”  Candace poked at the nearest gouge in the dark wood of the table, avoiding eye contact with her friend. “How is your news interesting? I already know what you’re going to say and did you really imagine Hank Kane wouldn’t attend his little sister’s wedding?” Candace looked up and shook her head as she poked some greens around the white roses. “He comes home every year at Christmas anyway. This wedding happens to fall during the festive season, so it was way more than likely he’d be here.”

“But you always avoid seeing him. And now you’ll have to since he’ll be at the wedding.”

“I can set up ahead of time and be long gone by the time of the ceremony.”

Candace nodded, making that her plan as the words left her mouth.

“You can’t disappoint Priscilla. The bride expects you there as a guest. After all, you’ve been friends since you and Hank dated. You can’t not show up.” Amy raised her eyebrows. “Besides, if you’re afraid to come face to face with his wife, the most interesting news is that he’s divorced.”

The news hit Candace in the gut as if a boxer had punched her. She could barely get the word out. “D-d-d-divorced?”

“I know. Shocking, isn’t it? I heard he lost his money and she left him.”

This week’s word for Tuesday Tales is wash. I am still in my Regency story called Lady Soldier.

Check out the other tales here

Happy to finally be free to act and aid her countrymen, Maud spurred Khan on and into the middle of the action. She fought hard and swiftly, keeping her mind on the job she was set to do. It helped not to think of the men she was attacking as husbands, brothers and sons. She focused instead on the task and how best to accomplish her goal of staying in the saddle and alive herself.

Khan was invaluable again as he sidestepped many who came at her. A few times, again, she heard or felt the wind of bullets passing by her head.

Many of the allied forces went down to the ground, but they kept fighting as long as there was breath in them.

If anything, this battle was bloodier than the day before. Napoleon must’ve been angry at how quickly his men disengaged the day before and put the fear in them not to do so again. They fought like men possessed.

The smell of blood in the air assaulted her nose and made her long for the day to be over. Still they fought on. Longer and harder than the day before.

As the sun came closer to setting, as if by some unspoken agreement, the armies began to disburse away from the battlefield.

Maud followed the young corporal who’d led her to the cavalry unit that morning. He turned and called out, “Retreat.”

Grateful the day’s fighting was all but over, Maud did as ordered and guided Khan back to the area where they’d mustered earlier.

The colonel, still on his own steed, addressed his men. “Well done, soldiers. Get some rest this evening as I’m sure we’ll be engaging the enemy again at dawn.” He saluted them. “Dismissed.”

As soon as the colonel uttered the word dismissed, Maud was eager to return to her quarters and wash the dirt of the day off herself.