slack·er
–noun
1. a person who evades his or her duty or work
You get to write from a prompt.
Marlena Fortune and Madame Zelda will pick the winner based completely on their own special brand of twisted subjectivity.
So come on. Be brave. Step out of your comfort zone.
Yes, you. I see you there hiding behind your monitor.
Rules:
1. Keep it clean. Anything not PG will be deleted.
2. Maximum word count 150.
3. One entry per person.
4. You retain sole ownership of your entry.
5. Leave your email address. If you don't put your email address in the body of your comment your entry will not be considered for the contest.
6. The genre is romance, all sub-genres invited. (but remember rule #1)
7. Please be familiar with the Seekerville contest rules located in the bottom right column of our front page.
8. The prompt is mine, the 150 words are yours..bunch a rabble rousers.
No whining allowed. If you don't want to play then take your toys to the other sandbox.
Winner? Oh, yeah. I guess I have to pay for my slackerliness.
Winner receives a $20 dollar Amazon gift card. Please, if you live on the South Slope of Western Transylvania and you cannot use an Amazon gift card because Amazon won't deliver to you, don't enter.
Contest deadline is Friday, July 2nd, 9 pm MST. Winner announced in the Weekend Edition.
Any questions? Good. I'm too lazy to answer them anyhow.
Your Writing Prompt:
Emily Carter dashed out of sudden downpour into a small bookstore and straight into the arms of her former beau, Jack Elliot.
Need a little romance to get you in the mood? Check out Seekerville's favorite YouTube romance montage.
I almost forgot...as promised all visitors who say hi today, will be entered in a random drawing for my little sister, Anne Adams' latest release, Bible Facts from Candle Books. Bible Facts is currently best seller #82 at the Eden Christian Resources UK.
Once again, you must leave your email address in the body of your post. Winner announced in the Weekend Edition.
Ready! Set! Go! (I'm going to go take a nap...)
Ok - this looks like fun but will have to wait a bit so I'm not fried completely. :)
ReplyDeleteIn other words, I'll be slackin' right along with you, 'ceptin I'd love to win well-published sis' book! may at maythek9spy dot com
Our writing group today brought work using "Transform" as our prompt. It was absolutely fascinating.
Have a great day. Too tired to even put on the coffee. There's cold water in the fridge.
KC, don't worry, darlin', we've got your back!!!!
ReplyDeleteI put the coffee on. I had to move several copies of Woman's World magazine to do it, but I persevered.
(Shameless plug intentional)
I've got Chocolate Caramel, Raspberry truffle and Slacker Joe (double caffeine, extra hot, no whip, hint of something extra, and I'm not telling what...)
And since it's early to put out the full breakfast spread, I've got a French Toast layered casserole to die for.
Sweet cheese filling.
Layered French Toast.
Topped with carmelized pecans.
And fresh NYS maple syrup to top it, with Ruthy-real-whipped cream.
This is food for the gods. If there were gods like that. Which there aren't, but don't go gettin' all up in arms on me, it's a phrase.
oh my stars.....
Tina, I love this and I think Slacker Tuesday could become a thing.
And I miss Marlena. Did you SEE her nails????
Oh mylanta, the things could perform surgery with nary a scalpel.
And 'blood red'....
Gulp.
I do not cross Marlena. Ever.
Or Tina.
I wonder why that is????
Tina.
ReplyDeleteYou've been joined by other slackers.
People beaching it.
In swimsuits.
GASP.
Swimsuits that don't have leggings or long skirts.
Double gasp.
;)
I think everyone is busily writing their 150 word entry.
I'm so proud I could bust. And I'm glad the French Toast bake is fine in the warming oven.
I even heated the syrup.
My stomach is growling so I'm heading for the French toast. I'll ponder my 150-word response and post later. Slack first, work later.
ReplyDeleteHubby woke me up at 4 am with his snores...sigh, so I laid in bed and created new characters and a new story. Seems my current story is not going anyway fast. Sigh, and I had such high hopes for Josie and Nick.
Yum, loving the warm syrup, Ruthy!
"Is the 150 word limit including or not including the words in the prompt?" asked the obsessive rule follower, (therefore showing one of her quirky character traits?)
ReplyDelete(this also is a way for me to put off the inevitable of having to write the 150 words)
Talk about writing short! 150 words! That is a challenge.
ReplyDeleteI'm hoping to be back with an entry.
RRossZediker at yahoo dot com
I love it -- Slacker Tuesday. Could become a holiday, right up there with National Pair Your Socks day, LOL!
ReplyDeleteMmmm, the table you've set and the feast you've prepared Ruthy, tempts me sorely! BUT, I've got WW weigh in tomorrow and I'm close to Lifetime goal. Yay!!
Oh BTW, my WW is Weight Watchers, not be confused with Woman's World which can be read while undergoing the notorious weigh in -- just remember lay WW on the counter while you step on the scale at WW so as NOT to add pounds...
Sorry, I slept in. Imagine that. Slacker that I am.
ReplyDeleteNo, the prompt is mine. The 150 words are yours.
Debra!!!!!
Thank goodness Ruthy made unleaded coffee. Oh, waiter, I'd like a a to go gallon, please.
Oh, poor, Lisa.
ReplyDeleteSleeping with a train. No fun.
Could Slacker Tuesdays become a weekly institution world wide?
ReplyDelete150 words???? I write replies to blogs longer than that!!! Sigh. Okay. I'll try...but I'd kinda like to know if the story prompt is included in that count too. And, more importantly -- if we go over the word count, what are the dire conseuences? (I know there's supposed to be a 'cue' in that last word, but the 'cue' on my keyboard at work doesn't work. Usually I have to pull up a word doc. write a word with a 'cue' in it and then do a spell check to actually get the 'cue' in it and then I cut and past that 'cue' into whatever I'm writing. BUT since this is Slacker Tuesday I'm not going to bother.)
This reply is 129 words. Oops 134...136...dang, 139...ah I'll never catch up.
TINA!!! I just LOVE it when you slack off, because then I don't feel so guilty.
ReplyDeleteGREAT IDEA!!! I can't wait to read the entries ...
Hugs,
Julie
Kav! You are over thinking.
ReplyDeleteGo, write.
Good morning. Talk about slackers. I didn't stop in at all yesterday.
ReplyDeleteI'm in St. Louis. I've been hanging around JULIE. It's been fun.
ICRS is here this year, a trade show for Christian Book Owners. And Barbour Publishing had me come in and sit in a booth and sign books.
Head home today.
I'd like to write a 150 word story. If I get home in time this evening, I'll do it.
Better go now. Thought I woke up at SIX AM so I've had plenty of time to pack. Grrrrrrr
What a great idea, Tina!
ReplyDeleteI however have no ideas - but after some coffee I may wake up enough to participate.
So Ruthy - the WW we are looking for is dated July 5th, is that right?
At my Walgreen's they had one sorry copy of the June 28th edition. Tell me I did the right thing in passing it up. Going back today to pick up photos and hopefully it will be there.
Pass the coffee!
Mary, the deadline is Friday night. Plenty of time.
ReplyDeleteHope you and Jules have a wonderful signing.
I am off to buy my copy of Woman's World.
I would like to add, as one of your esteemed judges, who frankly likes dangling modifiers and run on sentences, that I can be bought with good, very good, dark chocolate.
ReplyDeleteSend it care of Russo, er Novinski, I mean Radcliffe.
Darling, which name are you this week?
Now I must go, Bruno my Pilates instructor awaits.
Good luck to all.
Ruthy, be nice. I can have long and beautifully sculpted nails because I have not chewed mine down to the nubs from stress and worry. Unlike you sensitive writer types.
ReplyDeleteNow that I have retired my life is a large Brioche aux Sucre.
Oh dear... I slacked all afternoon yesterday, so now I'm dealing with the guilts. Having a summer with no beach vacation should give me leave to slack off every now & then, right?
ReplyDeleteWell, that's how I justify it.
Drinking cold brew this summer-- too hot to deal with hot coffee. Ya'll go ahead. But the french toast sounds delicious, and I'll offer up some blackberry cobbler I made last night. (Guess I didn't totally slack off, even if it was dinner, not dessert!)
I'm working on my entry.
LOL. I was reading the entries so fast that for a minute I thought Tina had Pilates instructor named Bruno and she really was rushing off for a session!
ReplyDeleteNot on slacker Tuesday!
Everyone is TIRED this morning. I definitely need more caffeine before I attempt an entry!
FUN.
Uh-oh, Kav. You got a Madame Zelda slap down. Better go before she gets after me!
Sue
sbmason (at) sympatico (dot) ca
Here goes first attempt at Romance:
ReplyDeleteHe caught her as she barreled through the door and steadied her for a second. Recognition dawned slowly on his handsome face.
“Emily!” Jack’s face tensed, his eyes narrowed, and he regarded her with distaste.
Speechless, Emily struggled to catch her breath. Running from the rainstorm hadn’t caused the tightness in her chest, but rather the proximity of her beloved Jack.
She smelled his scent and fought the desire to sink into his shoulder and lay her head on his neck and drink him in through her senses. But he set her away from him, squarely on her two feet, bringing her back to reality.
Grabbing her hands, he searched her fingers for telltale signs. There was nothing, no rings, no wedding band.
“You are not married?” Jack whispered, his features relaxing.
“No. I couldn’t.” Emily whispered back.
Pulling her back towards him and into an embrace, Jack kissed her.
Kathy
khurst5476 at yahoo dot com
I'll be back, Tina. Even though I'm supposed to be doing edits. But this sounds fun. I'm already getting some ideas.
ReplyDeleteGotta go take 11-yr-old to sewing camp! (Yes, believe it or not, it's a real thing. Sewing camp. Sounds like torture to me, but she loves it!)
Oooh, Kathy, very good and very brave and exactly 150 words!!!!! How did you do that?
ReplyDeleteVery nice, Kathy!
ReplyDeleteYay, Kathy! Nice job! Now come on, y'all, be bold and jump in!
ReplyDeleteI'm wallowing in French toast right now but will be back later once I get my fill. Thanks, Ruthy. I'm in heaven!
BTW, someone asked about the Woman's World edition. It's the July 5th one with the red and BLUE velvet cake on the front! (Has anyone ever seen someone do blue velvet cake??) Ruthy's on page 40!!!
the French Toast dish sounds very delicious; licking my lips here, lol.
ReplyDeleteplease enter me for little sis's book which looks very interesting.
yourstrulee(at)sasktel(dot)net
I'll put a scanned copy of Ruthy's WW debut in the Weekend Edition. Promise.
ReplyDeleteAre Pamela and Susan Mason related?
ReplyDeleteKathy!!! Well done!
ReplyDeleteLet the games begin!
You all have until Friday to enter your 150 word masterpieces.
Okay, here's my attempt to meet today's challenge.
ReplyDeleteEmily Carter dashed out of sudden downpour into a small bookstore and straight into the arms of her former beau, Jack Elliot. Stunned Jack stumbled back taking Emily with him. He turned at the last minute to protect her from the inevitable impact. They took out the magazine rack with Emily sprawled across his chest.
Emily pushed long blond curls out of her face and grimaced. “Hi, Jack. Long time no see.”
He grunted and sat up bringing Emily up with him. The retort he planned died on his lips when he looked into her deep jade eyes. Before he could think, or she could run, he captured her lips in a tender kiss.
Jack heard someone clearing their throat and broke the kiss. Mrs. Pearson stood, hands on hips, tapping her left foot. He tried to keep the grin from his face. “Good morning, Mrs. Pearson.”
She huffed glowering at him and then at Emily. “Mr. Elliot, how long do you plan on staying around this time?”
kanavyhist[at]aol[dot]com
LOL -- great closing line, Kirsten!
ReplyDeleteI don't know how you and Kathy managed to get your word count down. It doesn't read like you did. I've gone from 250 to 156 and the scene just fluffs off into space. Gahhhhhhhhhh!
Here’s one for the guys.
ReplyDeleteEmily Carter dashed out of sudden downpour into a small bookstore and straight into the arms of her former beau, Jack Elliot.
Jolted, Jack still recognized the familiar strawberry shampoo. It’s Emily! What now?
Jack lowered his head determined to kiss her senseless. Emily stiffened, then melted, a bundle of wetness.
Jack broke away.
“I could never resist you fresh out of a shower.”
Emily remained dazed.
“Please, forgive me, it was wrong to leave you at the altar and marry your mother -- but that was five years ago.”
“Why?”
“Your mother understood me, you didn’t.”
“Of course she understood you! She’s a mind reader – she’s Madame Isabella, Fortune Teller” .
Jack took a wet baggie out of his pocket. “Your birth certificate. From your mother.”
“She giving up title to me?”
“It’s for your passport. You’re going to win a trip to Paris and fall in love.”
“Oy vey!”
vmres (at) swbell (dot) net
..
Kathy and Kirsten!!! Whoo-hoo!!! You're brave souls today. Loved your stories.
ReplyDeleteI thought when Emily and Jack slammed into the magazine rack in Kirsten's tale, a copy of Women's World, bearing Ruthy's novel, would fall into their waiting hands. :)
I'm just saying...
Vince -- that's hysterical!!! Y'all make it look so easy.
ReplyDeleteSo here's mine and it was brutal to get the word count down but I did, with one word to spare. One precious word that I could have resurrected but there were too many to choose from so I left it as is...
Emily Carter dashed out of sudden downpour into a small bookstore and straight into the arms of her former beau, Jack Elliot. Of course she didn’t realize that right away. She was too busy trying to tame her recalcitrant ‘Winnie the Pooh’ umbrella to look up.
“Still have that old thing?”
“Jack?”
Surprised, she gaped up at him through a sodden clump of bangs that dripped steadily down onto her nose.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
Her mouth snapped shut at the exact moment the umbrella did, showering them both with a deluge of raindrops. Jack’s warm laughter brought unaccountable tears to her eyes. She was over him…wasn’t she?
He nodded at the umbrella and grinned. He never could understand the sentimentality that wouldn’t allow her to buy a new one.
“It has holes in it, Em.”
“All the better to see the storm clouds. I like to be prepared for what’s ahead.” In both weather and matters of the heart.
“Then keep your eyes wide open, sweetheart because I’m here to stay.”
rowanwood (at) rogers (dot) com
Oh Debby! I wish I would have thought of the Woman's World magazine. It could have opened magically to Ruth's feature drawing his attention away from Emily's green eyes!!! Well maybe next time.
ReplyDeleteI'm lovin' everyone's stories. Kav, love the Winnie the Pooh umbrella!
OH. MY. GOSH. These are so great!!!
ReplyDeleteI needed a spew alert for when Jack apologized for marrying Emily's mom. LOL!!!!
Aw, Kav, you put "our" umbrella in! I still miss mine.....
ReplyDeleteI'll be back. Threat or promise? Let's just call it a mild warning. :)
Ruth Alert!
ReplyDeleteIf you can’t wait to see the Woman’s World story about “Winter’s End”, I have it posted -- along with the cover -- on my website. You can also find a review there for both “Winter’s End” and “Waiting Out The Storm”. BTW, feel free to lift the artwork if you want to post it on your web site. It’s all resized and converted to jpg.
Vince
First, Vince, your entry was HILARIOUS! I cackled all alone in my little office. People looked at me strangely from the door, but I didn't care. I was happy. :)
ReplyDeleteSo, here's a little something (emphasis on LITTLE) I came up with. It WAS hard to whittle down to 150 words!
So....
Emily Carter dashed out of sudden downpour into a small bookstore and straight into the arms of her former beau, Jack Elliot, although she didn’t know it at the time.
When her face buried itself in his chest, something registered—comfort, enticement. It was when she looked up into eyes so brown that they could only be related to chocolate—the really good kind—that Emily felt her stomach drop to somewhere between her knees and toes.
“Oh. It’s you.” She struggled to pull herself together. As long as she didn’t look into his eyes, she would be alright. Wouldn’t she?
He kept a grip on her arms. “Are you OK?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m wet, but we’ve ascertained that I won’t melt.”
He lifted her chin and made her look at him. “I don’t know. You’re certainly sweet enough.”
“That’s not what you said before.”
“I was stupid. What can I do to make it up to you?”
“Well...”
Before her lips could form the words, they were being kissed.
Regina
trmerrick@bellsouth.net
Nice stories, everyone!!!
ReplyDeleteKav, love your "I'm here to stay line!" Fantastic. As good as Rhett Butler's final line to Scarlet. :)
Vince! What's your web site URL? I want to see your review of Ruthy's new release, which I'm hoping arrives in GA soon!!!
Regina, how romantic!!!
ReplyDeleteI'm loving these!
ReplyDeleteDebby, I got my copy of Woman's World at Ingles on Thursday or Friday. So go check!
My post has a body... That's just dowright eerie.
ReplyDeleteMy email fir this comment is tpinson.co(at)netzero.net. I shall try to work on the 150 word love scene.
Hi Debby:
ReplyDeleteThis is my url for the Woman's World material.
http://www.vmres.blogspot.com/
I hope it is ok to post a link.
Vince
Hi Tina,
ReplyDeleteNo, Pamela Mason and I are not related (that I know of). I don't think my husband has any family in Florida (I think that's where Pamela's from).
Anyhoo ... since everyone else in giving it a go, here's my ditty.
Emily Carter dashed out of a sudden downpour into a small bookstore and straight into the arms of her former beau, Jack Elliot.
Oblivious to the river of water that dripped from her hair onto his jacket, she stared into those mesmerizing blue eyes – eyes she’d never forgotten. Her heart beat an erratic rhythm that matched the drum of the rain on the pavement.
“Emily? I can’t believe it!” Jack pulled out a handkerchief and gently dabbed the moisture from her face.
The fragrance of his cologne flooded her with memories.
“T-Thanks.” Words escaped her befuddled brain.
He looked as handsome as ever, whereas she resembled a drowned cat.
“It must be fate,” he said. “I was just thinking about you, and here you are.” His expression sobered. “I’ve never been able to forget you, Em. Not a day goes by I don’t regret losing you.”
“Me, too,” she whispered.
In that moment, the years melted away. His warm lips came down on hers and the sun broke through the clouds.
This has been fun. I love reading everyone's entries.
Cheers,
Sue
sbmason (at) sympatico (dot) ca
Vince! Thank you for posting the Woman's World magazine for all of us to see.
ReplyDeleteFell on the floor laughing over your story.
Regina -- loved the eyes reference!
ReplyDeleteSue -- what a romantic 'ditty'!
I'm now wishing I was Emily and getting to replay this scene over and over again with different results. Lucky girl!!!
Susan, love it.
ReplyDeleteYes, Pinson, your email has a body :)
Emily Carter dashed out of a sudden downpour into the a small bookstore and straight into the arms of her former beau, Jack Elliott.
ReplyDelete"Hello, doll," Jack drawled. "What's your hurry?"
Shoving away from him, Emily swiped off her glasses and wiped the raindrops on her blouse. "If you want to talk to me, Jack, you'll have to get in line."
He chuckled, glancing at the table reserved for her, Emmeline Carrera, author of the best-selling romance Swept Away. "Why, there's five people in line. Do I have to wait that long?"
Adjusting her glasses, she prepared a cutting retort but stopped short when she saw his smile. His laugh lines had deepened and there were new crinkles around his sea-green eyes.
"You're just like I remember," she breathed softly, "only older."
"Folks tend to age," he said, shaking his head. "Not you, though, Em. You're as pretty as you were the day you broke my heart."
She sighed. "Get in line, Jack. I have some books to sign."
jprivette1(at)roadrunner(dot)com
Mary Bailey, you sly writer you.
ReplyDeleteNicely done.
I'm late to the party (and, Vince. you were hilarious). My submission is below.
ReplyDeleteEmily Carter dashed out of sudden downpour into a small bookstore and straight into the arms of her former beau, Jack Elliot.
At least she thought it was Jack.
The hair color? Different. The scar on his cheek? New. That perfect nose? Broken once.
But there was no mistaking those brown eyes, eyes that commanded attention, eyes that commanded respect, eyes that five years ago had commanded her heart.
And now those eyes exhibited fear.
“Jack?”
Jack’s mouth flew open as he swallowed air. “Emily, h-how did you recognize me?”
“Did you think I could forget? We were to be married. What happened to you?”
Jack glanced up and the down the street. His rapid breathing mixed with his words. “I wish you hadn’t recognized me. You’ve got to come with me. Now.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” Emily asked.
“I’ve been in witness protection. However, my cover’s been blown. I’ve got to get out of here.”
“Can’t some government agent help you?”
Jack paused. “I just saw my only contact. He’s dead.”
wmussell(at)hotmail(dot)com
Walt you are not late..you are early..entries accepted through Friday.
ReplyDeleteNice ending hook!!!
Thanks, Vince! I'll check it out! :)
ReplyDeleteGreat stories! So fun.
Thanks, Tina!
Walt, loved your closing hook. You should write suspense!
Hi Tina, Slacking today hmmmmm. Me too. Well not really. But from writing. yes.
ReplyDeleteGreat stories so far. Love this. Can you see how one sentence can lead down so many paths. Fascinating.
Good job everyone.
Mary and Walt kudos to you both for going down a completely different path with that scene. I want to read both your books when they're published. You can leave us hanging.
ReplyDeleteI can't believe how much I'm learning from this 150 word challenge. Talk about a hands on visual about the importance of measuring words and how to say a lot without using any!
Emily Carter dashed out of sudden downpour into a small bookstore and straight into the arms of her former beau, Jack Elliot.
ReplyDelete“Hold on there, spitfire!” His firm grip prevented her from continuing further than the doorway. “There’s a huge puddle here that’ll toss you on your backside quicker than you can throw a punch!”
Emily glared at Jack. The cloudburst had transformed her red curls into a sodden mess that dripped icy rainwater on the faded welcome mat. “You know I did not punch you on purpose!” Her sidelong glance took in the widening puddle, bucket, and the mop Jack had evidently dropped in order to steady her. “A gentleman would not keep reminding me. It was an accident.”
Jack smiled but a shadow lingered in his eyes. “Ah, but as you well know, I am not a gentleman, Emily. Isn’t that why you backed out of our engagement?”
jenna@jennavictoria.com
JENNA!!! Love it!!! Thanks for your awesome entry and for being so brave.
ReplyDeleteHere's my entry:
ReplyDeleteEmily Carter dashed out of the sudden downpour into a small bookstore and straight into the arms of her former beau, Jack Elliot.
His muscles braced her impact while a firm familiar grip kept her from teetering over on her high heels. She drew in a deep breath. The woodsy cologne confirmed it. She lifted her eyes to his, Jack.
For a minute she let her heart acknowledge the love she felt for him certain her eyes reflected her feelings. Once she thought he felt the same but she found he loved his undercover job more than her.
Balance regained, she set her mouth into a grim line and pushed away. She’d grown used to living with the pain of a broken heart but there was no sense in reliving it.
“Excuse me.” Emily tried to sidestep past Jack.
His hand caught her arm.
“Let go of me.” She hissed through clenched teeth.
“I can’t.” Jack searched her face. “So, I quit the FBI.”
Emily blinked back tears. He did love her more.
Okay you prompted me to write and here it is...
ReplyDeleteEmily Carter dashed out of sudden downpour into a small bookstore and straight into the arms of her former beau, Jack Elliot.
"Whadda think?" I asked.
Zelda's eyebrows arched, riding the rim of her mug.
Ruth downed her cyber-coffee. "Would she know it was him? It's raining. Her head would be down. Was his name tattooed on his chest? Just saying?"
Zelda sat down her mug, "I can see that."
I plucked my collar, trying to ignore Zelda's massive chin mole. "Hmm."
Zelda jutted her mole. "What would you do if you met your former beau?"
"I'd pull a Mary on him," I declared.
Ruth gasped. "Oh my stars, that's harsh."
Zelda grinned. "Do tell."
"He dumped me for Julie. Said I was a slacker in romance."
Ruth patted my hand. "Julie's quite the romance maven."
Zelda waved her hand. "Romance will come again."
"There can only be one Queen of Romance." I sniffed."I'll be the Queen of Murder."
"Mary has that covered," Ruth reminded.
I slumped in my seat.
tpinson.co(at)netzero.net
LOL -- Tina, you're brilliant...you stepped right out the scene and kept on running!
ReplyDeleteRose -- I love her pausing to allow her heart to acknowledge her love -- kind of inspite of herself. Very romantical.
Jenna -- I got a historical feel about yours -- don't know if that was what you were thinking and it could easily be contemporay too. And not a gentleman? Just how ungentlemanly did Jack get in order for Emily to break the engagement?! LOL
Man -- I want to read everyone's stories now.
Tina P! Your entry's great!
ReplyDeleteJennaVictoria, your entry is beautifully written!
ReplyDeleteOh, my, Pinson dudette...ROSE!! Great entries.
ReplyDeleteAnother great contest! Thanks~! Below is my entry:
ReplyDelete-------
Emily Carter dashed out of sudden downpour into a small bookstore and straight into the arms of her former beau, Jack Elliot.
He grinned. “Not everyday the heavens throw manna to the hungry.”
She shook out her umbrella and nearly impaled him. “I’m not manna,” she gritted. “I’m week old bread who’ll give you e-coli. So walk away.”
“I’m looking for a book --”
“Look elsewhere.” She shoved her things behind the register.
“-- for that someone special.”
That hurt. They’d only been broken up a week, not that he looked shattered. “Out.”
He tossed a book to her. “This one.”
THE THOUSAND YEAR WAR. “I’m sure she’ll love it.”
“She loves books --”
“Don’t care.”
“And I want her.”
“Don’t want to know.”
He grabbed her and hauled her forward, inches from his mouth. “I don’t want a thousand year war. I don’t want a one week war. I want you.”
“No.”
“No could mean yes.”
“No means --”
He kissed her. E-coli never tasted so sweet.
email: shadowrite@comcast.net
French toast, love it but it is to late to eat tonight. Maybe in the morning. The meds the dr gave me Monday have me staggering and goofy (I am not normally goofy). But the pain is gone. Yay!! I will write my 150 words as soon as I know where I am. Also who I am.
ReplyDeleteWould love to be entered to win little sisters book. Thanks for the opportunity to enter.
misskallie2000 at yahoo dot com
Emily Carter dashed out of sudden downpour into a small bookstore and straight into the arms of her former beau, Jack Elliot.
ReplyDeleteStill as handsome as ever, she mused after blinking out the rain from her green eyes. Her hand still held to his tight, sturdy bicep.
She felt his heat. "Hey Em." His voice was tender, too tender.
She yanked her hand from his once-loving arms.
"Jack" Her words were cold, hurt. The twinge in his tight jaw let her know he felt her angry bite.
She stifled the painful memory of him walking away to search his heart for God's will.
"Want some coffee?" The right corner of his mouth turned up. A maneuver that cost her her heart last time. Only he knew of her love for rainy days, a good book, and a great cup of joe.
She pursed her lips, say no Em, she thought. You can't take this man's heartbreak again, Say NO!
"Sure." She bit the inside of her cheek. She still loved him.
freestonenkcs@gmail.com
Thanks, I enjoyed this!
Now it's time to eat lunch...quickly. lol
Ok I've dusted off my keyboard and I'm ready to give this a try!
ReplyDeleteEmily Carter dashed out of sudden downpour into a small bookstore and straight into the arms of her former beau, Jack Elliot.
"Geeze Em, you're like a bull in a china shop" Jack said, kneeling to grab his books.
"I-uh" she stumbled, "it's raining." It's raining? Emily silently scolded herself.
"That explains everything" he teased. The two stood there, lingering in silence.
Looking up Jacks green eyes locked onto hers. The pain from what she'd done months ago was written all over his face. Reaching slowly, Jack wiped a stray hair out of her face, "you look good Em" he said softly.
Emily slowly released the breath she'd been holding. Her chest began to hurt for what was. The door to the bookstore dinged as another shopper entered.
A hand touched Emily's back and all her emotions came screaming to a halt.
"Let's go Emily," her father wasn't asking.
Emily didn't need to look back and see Jacks face to know what he was feeling. If only her life gave do over's.
rissa(dot)young(at)gmail(dot)com
Ah I'm so rusty!! Guess I let a pregnancy and a six month old baby distract me from my world of writing :) Lets see if I can get back into the swing of things!
Great stories. Here's mine:
ReplyDeleteEmily Carter dashed out of sudden downpour into a small bookstore and straight into the arms of her former beau, Jack Elliot.
“Reverend Elliot,” Emily gasped, shoving her arm behind her back.
He set her on her feet. “Did you think you could hide forever?”
Water pooled around her cowboy boots as she stared straight at his chest. She kept her arm behind her and held firm to her bundle. “I wasn’t hiding. You said I was hindering your ministry so I left.”
“Emily, we need to talk. Is there anyplace in this town to get coffee?”
“You’ve had three years to talk. I’ve nothing to say.”
“Emily.” He started to reach for her, but then pulled back. Sadness enveloped her. He hadn’t changed. He never touched in public. “I want us to start over. If it doesn’t work, we can still be friends.”
“We can never be just friends.”
“Why not?”
Emily pulled her arm from around her back, a chubby little hand in her grasp. “Meet your daughter, Reverend.”
Connie at brcqueen@gmail.com
Marissa!!! Woo hoo, good to see you!
ReplyDeleteConnie, great entry.
Wow, Kelly! You entered!!
Welcome Jasmine!!
Love all you brave writers!
Everyone - I am.in.awe at the entries... such talent :-) mine seems pale by comparison. But at least I am in good company!
ReplyDeletejenna@jennavictoria.com
Is there still time? Here goes:
ReplyDeleteEmily Carter dashed out of a sudden downpour into a small bookstore and right into the arms of her former beau, Jack Elliott.
"Pardon monsieur." Emily averted her face and slipped free, praying he hadn't recognized her.
Why was he here? She didn't expect his forgiveness; even if God had forgiven her, she couldn't forgive herself.
And she'd promised -- Jack would never see Emily Carter again. So how had he found her?
"Emily." Jack half spoke, half whispered her name. He pulled away the book she held up, trying to hide her face.
"Excusez- moi!"
"You have it upside down." He turned it around and handed it back. "And what's with the French?"
Time to make a stand. Paris was her turf, her life now, and he was trespassing.
"You're on the wrong side of the pond here, Monsieur Elliot. And we had an agreement. Or don't you remember?"
Thunder clapped, the lights blinked , and Jack took advantage of the dark.
He stepped in close, further onto her 'turf'.
"I remember Emily. Everything."
Thanks for reading! Pamela
tappitytaptap (at) gmail (dot) com
Just want to say:
ReplyDeleteI'd love to read ALL of these stories!
Pamela, LOVE IT!!
ReplyDeleteTre chic.
Emily Carter dashed out of sudden downpour into a small bookstore and straight into the arms of her former beau, Jack Elliot. For a moment, she was ten years younger, standing at the altar, wearing her mother’s white wedding gown ready to become Mrs. Jack Elliot. Lavender scent filled the air, as guests took their seats in the backyard of her parents’ Apple Valley home.
ReplyDeleteStaring into his eyes, she didn’t see it anymore. The love. The adoration. It had been replaced by pure hurt, anger and betrayal.
Just as stunned, he quickly released her and walked around to the cash register.
“Ma’am, what brings you in today?”
Ma’am? Had he actually called her ma’am?
Straightening herself, she could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. Nothing had changed. He still had a way of getting to her.
“I’m looking for a Bible. For my mother. She doesn’t have long.”
Emily Carter dashed out of sudden downpour into a small bookstore and straight into the arms of her former beau, Jack Elliot. For a moment, she was ten years younger, standing at the altar, wearing her mother’s white wedding gown ready to become Mrs. Jack Elliot. Lavender scent filled the air, as guests took their seats in the backyard of her parents’ Apple Valley home.
ReplyDeleteStaring into his eyes, she didn’t see it anymore. The love. The adoration. It had been replaced by pure hurt, anger and betrayal.
Just as stunned, he quickly released her and walked around to the cash register.
“Ma’am, what brings you in today?”
Ma’am? Had he actually called her ma’am?
Straightening herself, she could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. Nothing had changed. He still had a way of getting to her.
“I’m looking for a Bible. For my mother. She doesn’t have long.”