Posted by: Author | November 25, 2020

Wordless Wednesday

Posted by: Author | November 23, 2020

Tuesday Tales- November 24, 2020- Stuff

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word, stuff. I am still working on my NaNoWriMo novel.

Check out the other tales here.

Alice wasn’t paying the least bit of attention. She was still staring at Matthew.

He was looking at her, too. “I go on break in about five minutes. Would you like to have coffee in the cafe with me?”

Before Alice could respond, Sophronia asked, “Can you please set me up with those books you mentioned before you go on break.” Leave it to Alice to make a conquest. Just when I need her to help me do this research.

“Sure, sure. Sorry.” Matthew stood and moved to the other side of his desk.

Sophronia let out a groan. Great. He’s tall and has exactly the body type Alice likes. Nice, veined forearms and a strong thigh. She’d be useless the rest of the day. Good grief. Who knew my friend’s ideal man would be hiding upstairs at the library? And be a professional researcher at that. It’d be laughable, if it wasn’t a tragic end to Sophronia’s desire to be productive in learning about her newly acquired home.

Matthew appeared concerned as he looked down his height at her. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, of course. Why?”

“The way you groaned just then made it sound like you were in great pain.”

“Oh no. I’m was thinking about something and didn’t mean to verbalize that.” Sophronia tried to laugh it off, but knew she better be more careful or Alice would call her out on it. Sometimes, it wasn’t good to have been friends for so many years.  Reading each other’s minds could be hazardous. Alice wasn’t the most discreet of people and could very well blurt out that Sophronia was more worried about Alice’s actions than her own. But surely she wouldn’t. It would lead to embarrassing herself. Surely.

“Let’s find those books.” Matthew led the way to the stacks.

Alice poked Sophronia in the ribs as they followed along. “Don’t blow my chances with him,” she whispered.

“What’s that?” Matthew said over his shoulder.

Looking at Sophronia in horror, Alice shook her head.

“Nothing. Alice was just saying”—another poke in the ribs, this one harder—“she sure needs that cup of coffee you offered. She loves the stuff. It’s like the elixir of life for her.”

Even more horrified by the expression on her face, Alice sucked in a breath. “I’ll get you for that.”

Giggling to herself that now Alice would have to drink the dreaded caffeine she hated, Sophronia stepped up her pace, catching up with Matthew. Serve Alice right for abandoning their project over a man. A pretty man for sure, but she’d promised to help. Not that Sophronia begrudged a flirtation, but the call of that book in the attic was still humming in her and she wanted some answers.  Maybe the interior design book would show the room she was most interested in.

Posted by: Author | November 16, 2020

It’s Tuesday again: time for more Tuesday Tales. The word of the week for the writers of TT is sick. I am working on my contemporary paranormal and this book is taking me off on tangents like no other had ever done. I foresee a lot of tinkering with this one when I get to the editing stage. 🙂

Be sure to check out the other tales here

The library had long been one of Sophronia’s favorite places in town. It was in an old building downtown that had clearly been someone’s home in the past. It was a massive structure but still held the air of the seat of a prominent family that held vast properties but made the place where they resided into a cozy place to entertain as well as to live their day to day lives.

Each room downstairs was at least 16 x 16 in square footage and, now that the building was being used as the town library, each of the areas were lined with shelves of deep mahogany and there were numerous wooden tables and chairs placed in the open spaces.

Sophronia sighed. Content to be in this beloved building. She’d spent many an hour hear browsing and reading as she grew up. This was why she loved her job so much. The love for books was instilled in her between these very walls.

“You look like you could live here,” Alice said.

“I think I could, actually. It’s my happy place. All this knowledge just waiting for people to reach out and take it. Take it home, use it and bring it back. All free.” Sophronia grinned. “Or just to stay here and move from book to book until they close for the night. Either way, it’s as gift.”

“Girl, you are sick in the head. Who loves libraries like that beside you?”

“Look around.” Sophronia pointed to a guy with shoulder-length black hair seated at a table with a girl—with a sleeve of colorful tattoos, six earrings in the ear they could see as well as a nose ring—leaning over his shoulder. They were poring over some large book open on the table in front of them. “They look like they might love this place.” She tilted her head to an elderly man seated in one of the few leather chairs strewn about the room. “He’s studying an old newspaper. I bet he loves coming here and reading about the past.”

Alice held her hands up in surrender. “Stop. Stop. Point taken.” She shook her head. “I’m not sure about them loving it.  Maybe the guy and girl are doing a project for school and have to be here.”

“Nonsense. Look at how they’re smiling as they look at the book. I think it’s a map book. Maybe they’re planning a trip. Or honeymoon.” Sophronia sighed again. They did look happy. “And surely, you can’t think that man who is eighty if he’s a day, is studying for school.”

“You never know.” Alice laughed, drawing a “shh” from the librarian at the checkout desk.

“And that right there is why I don’t like libraries. Being chastened like a child, “Alice whispered.

Posted by: Author | November 11, 2020

Wordless Wednesday

Screwed up and posted this on Tuesday. So, here we go again. The artwork on the wall in this scene in a Lifetime movie called A Welcome Home Christmas is by my cousin, Jeremy Fowler. He has a painting in another scene as well, but I don’t have a screen-shot of it. I am proud of him so I apologize for word on Wordless Wednesday. 🙂

Posted by: Author | November 9, 2020

Tuesday Tales- November 10, 2020 – Picture Prompt

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to picture prompts. We are limited to 300 words each. I am still working on my National Novel Writing Month story. It’s a contemporary set in an allegedly haunted house. Our heroine and her dog, along with her friend, have been in the house and experienced some creepy stuff. Sorry I am limited to 300 words so you might be lost here. 🙂

Be sure to check out the other tales here.

“We’re going to go to that coffee shop I saw on our way here. We’re going to eat breakfast and think about all this. There has to be an explanation.”

Sophronia had never seen Alice this way in all the years she’d known her. She was clearly rattled by the events of the day—as well as the banging noises that were about to send Sophronia into orbit—but Alice was nothing if not logical. She would want all this to make sense when all Sophronia wanted was to sit in that turreted room with the flashlight and study that book. Without the sound effects and snake, of course.

Downstairs, Haydn finally appeared to relax. He followed them to Alice’s car in silence. Sophronia was glad he at least wasn’t looking at her as if he was afraid of her—or for her.

She made a point of kneeling by him at the car and patting him. “Good boy. You did well in there. You’re my sweetie. I love you.” She snuggled against his huge head and held him for a few moments.

“If you’re done messing with that creature, let’s go eat. I’m starving.” Alice slid into the driver’s seat as Sophronia opened the door to let Haydn hop in.

As they drove away, she peeked over her shoulder to see if she saw anyone in the window as she had to day before. No one. Only the feeling she needed to stay behind with the book lingered.

They each ordered a breakfast sandwich at the cafe with Alice getting a chai tea and Sophronia a large black coffee and a bottle of water to pour in Haydn’s travel bowl.

Posted by: Author | November 2, 2020

Tuesday Tales- November 3, 2020- Shoe

Tis time for Tuesday Tales again. I have left the Christmas story for now and am working on my 12th NaNoWrimo story. It is called Sophronia. The name comes from my great-grandmother on my maternal line- she was my grandfather’s mother and died about three years before I was born. I always loved her name so decided to use it for this book. Our word we’re writing to this week is shoe.

Check out the other tales here

At the top of the stairs, Sophronia screeched to a halt. Her door was ajar.

She stopped so fast, Alice ran right into her. “What’s wrong?”

Sophronia stepped aside and pointed. “I left that closed and locked.”

“Let me go in first.”

“Shouldn’t we call the police? Let them check the inside in case whoever it was is still inside?”

“If someone was in there, don’t you think Haydn would be going nuts? I think it’s safe.” Alice looked down at the dog. “See? He’s still only interested in a snack.”

If she’d been home alone, Sophronia never would have agreed to this, but since her pet seemed content—other than impatient for his treat—and Alice was there, she shrugged. “All right, but I’ve got my phone in my hand.” She dialed 911, but didn’t push send. “If I see anything amiss, I’m calling for help.”

“Run first, okay?” Alice said.

“Got it.” The more she thought about it, the safer Sophronia felt. They’d been on the tiny landing for a few moments now and if anyone was still inside, they would’ve heard them by now. Hopefully.

Alice pushed the door open with her shoe.

Haydn galloped in without a second’s hesitation.

Sophronia followed behind the two of them praying that no one was inside with a gun ready to defend themselves from the return of the homeowner.

The place was basically one room and a bathroom. No one was in the main part of the apartment. Alice tiptoed to the bathroom and pushed the door in with her shoulder.

“No one.” She turned back to Sophronia. “Anything missing?”

Sophronia glanced around. The place was immaculate—other than some dog hair the Roomba hadn’t gotten yet.  “I don’t see anything out of place. Maybe I didn’t lock the door after all and the wind blew it open.”

“That’s crazy. Someone had to have been here. Let’s look in your drawers. See if they’ve been disturbed.”

The dresser drawers did show someone had rifled through them. Sophronia’s neatly arranged sock and under garment drawer had been tossed.

She moved to her desk. The papers on top had been slightly shuffled. She also noticed her laptop had been opened and moved slightly to one side. “Good thing that’s encrypted. Whoever it was probably tried to get in. Wonder why they didn’t take it.”

“Trying to be subtle, I guess. I’m glad you aren’t staying here tonight.”

Posted by: Author | October 28, 2020

Wordless Wednesday

Posted by: Author | October 26, 2020

Tuesday Tales- October 27, 2020- Fly

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt fly. I am still working on the Regency Christmas story.

Be sure to check out the other tales here

Before the door opened, a cawing sound made Charles look up. A group of ravens flew over his head before soaring off into the sky. “Is it a bad omen for that kind of bird to fly almost into you?” He asked himself aloud before turning to walk away.  The black birds could not bode well for the conversation ahead of him. Better it had been doves or bluebirds but it was the wrong season for seeing those in the city.

He was too late to make his escape as he heard the door creaked open behind him. Sighing, Charles turned.

An elderly lady stood staring at him with a frown and a scowl. “How can I help you?”

Charles resisted the urge to ask her why she was being abrupt and behaving as if she had been inconvenienced by his rapping at her door. Instead, he turned on his charm. The one thing that never let him down. “Good day, lovely lady. I’m looking for my friend, Mr. Pettifer. I am given to understand he resides here.” Charles leaned on the door jamb and gave his best flirtatious smile. “Lucky fellow if he does. To have such a kind, gentle landlady.”

The lady in question blushed but frowned even deeper. “Are you trying to flatter me, sir?”

“Of course I am not. I always remark on a lady’s loveliness. I cannot help myself. Ask Mr. Pettifer if you do not trust me.”

She opened the door wider. “I am sure Mr. Pettifer would agree with anything you asked of him. Most all of his acquaintances are as bold as you. Singularly annoying.” She swept her arm to the side to allow him entry. “The parlor is on the left. First door. I’ll send for him to come down.”

Charles followed her inside and watched as she instructed a small, dark-haired maid to fetch George.

The moment of truth was upon him.

Posted by: Author | October 19, 2020

Tuesday Tales- October 20, 2020- Multiply

Time for Tuesday Tales. This week, the authors are writing to the word prompt Multiply. I had to use the plural to get it to work in my tale. I hope my tale isn’t too preachy, but the hero is talking to a priest. 🙂

Check out the other tales here.

“No one is unforgivable in the eyes of the Lord. All you have to do is earnestly repent and you can find peace.”

Charles could repent of some of his deeds, such as what he did to Lady Cavanaugh when she was not yet married, but his biggest sin in the eyes of the church as well as the law, he could not repent as he would surely sin again in this lifetime. If he ever got over the loss of the love of his life. How does one repent when one is not sorry?  Of course, he could not share that with the priest. “I lost the love of my life.”

“Was it in some way your fault?” The priest’s voice was tender and kind.

“Oh, no. Not at all.”

“Then why feel you are not worthy of forgiveness?”

“At the time of the death, I was so distraught, I tried to harm someone.”

“And did you succeed?” Nothing in the priest’s demeanor suggested he was disgusted with Charles which was a relief.

“No. I was stopped in time, but the person has not forgotten and every time I think about what I did, I am ashamed. I come here to walk the cemetery where my beloved is buried to try to ease my guilt.”

“Your victim likely will not forget—depending on what happened—but have you asked forgiveness from this person?”

Charles nodded. “I have, but it is still awkward.”

“I imagine it will be for a while, but eventually, it will abate. How long ago did it happen?”

“Last spring.”

The priest glanced down at the floor and back up. “It may be too soon for relations to return to normal. Give it time.”

“What about my sense of loss with the death of my beloved? I don’t know how to let the love go.”

“You needn’t let it go. Tuck it away in your heart and you will find it always with you. Love does not change merely because the person is not here on this plane any longer. I am sure you will find love again. You do not need to let one go to find happiness again. Love multiplies. It truly does. Would you like me to pray with you about the things we have discussed?”

Charles, feeling a bit like he was deceiving the priest, nodded his acquiescence and bowed his head.

Posted by: Author | October 12, 2020

Tuesday Tales- October 13, 2020- Picture Prompt

Time for Tuesday Tales again. I am working on the never ending story- the Regency Christmas story. I chose the picture of a dog (it looks spring, but my tale is winter). .

Check out the other tales here.

The cold air continued to pierce through Charles’ greatcoat but he was determined to check on George. It really was unforgivable of him not to have at least sent a messenger to let George know he was concerned. Determined to confess why he had not done anything since that night, but not knowing how to put it into words, Charles focused on anything besides the upcoming conversation.

“What to name that dog. Yes. That is a way to occupy my mind before arriving at George’s rooms.”

A young girl carrying a basket passed by and cast a quick look at him as if he was not sane as he walked along talking to himself. She sped up and moved along as if she were being chased by a person intent on doing her harm.

Truth be told, he did sometimes feel as if he were one step away from Bedlam. He shuddered. Not from the cold but from the very real possibility of ending up there.

Think about the dog, think about the dog, think about the dog.

Charles tipped his hat to two men walking in the opposite direction and tucked his gloved hand quickly back into his pocket. Maybe I should have stayed with the dog in front of the fire rather than coming on this fool’s errand.

He walked on, increasing his pace and hoping George’s landlady had a nice blaze burning in the grate in her drawing room.

In a few more moments—too fast for his peace of mind—he was at the door to his friend’s lodgings. He sucked in a deep breath and knocked.

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