Tag Archives: writing

Flash Fiction Friday Story: Unexpected Visitor

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Dresser, Art

Creepy Tree Dresser by ZaraMoro via www.DeviantArt.com

Maggie saw him get out of the two-door compact on the other side of the street as she made change for her customer’s yard sale purchase. “Thank you. Have a good weekend.” As the woman walked away, Maggie scanned the tree-lined street. A neighbor was mowing his lawn. Her kids were playing next door with the Skrowneck kids. A young woman hopped out of her minivan and began looking at the toddler clothes on a table at the end of the driveway.

The man wandered along the tables lining the driveway. He was six foot one and athletically built with short sandy brown hair. Maggie stood next to him at a table of men’s clothing. “It’s been awhile, Mike,” she said as he picked up a sweater.

He grinned. The familiar lop-sided smile she remembered. “I saw you scope out the street when I pulled up. Still sharp as ever.”

“Mother skills. Can’t be too careful.”

“Good looking kids.” He put the sweater back on the table, neatly folded.

“Thanks. But you didn’t show up to complement me on my children.” Her husband, Tom, was talking to an older man, looking at tools he was selling.

“You’re right. We think your parents hid a microfiche in a dresser they left you.”

Maggie knew the dresser he was talking about. “I sold that dresser five years ago. I checked it, Mike. It was the only thing I had left from them. I removed everything that could be removed. There was nothing.”

Mike moved to the next table where Maggie had a few small appliances and mismatched glassware and mugs. “Do you know who bought it?”

“A young couple. They were looking for a dresser they could refinish for a baby’s room.”

“Does your husband know you were in the Agency?”

“No. I told him the scars are from a car accident.” Maggie tried to forget that last mission. Mike had been her partner and it had gone wrong fast. She had been lucky to survive.

He sighed. “I need to look at the dresser. Do you know where they live?”

Maggie checked her husband. He was taking money from the old guy. “Yeah, we delivered it to their house.” Her stomach clenched in a way she remembered from her days as an agent. “I’ll write it down.” She pulled a small notepad from the breast pocket of her husband’s shirt she wore over her tee shirt and wrote down the address. “What do you think is on the fiche?”

“Your parents were working with a Russian scientist. We think they hid the fiche just before they were killed.” Mike glanced at her. “They were good operatives, Maggie. As good as you.”

“Thanks. That doesn’t make it any easier to lose your parents when you’re fifteen.” An unexpected pang of grief swept over her. She took a second to recover. “After the Agency recruited me, they told me the real story of their death. They looked at that dresser then and didn’t find anything, either.”

“Even so, I have to check.” His eyes twinkled. “Want to come along? Just for old-times sake?”

She snorted. “It’s been eleven years. It’s too late to go back to that life.”

That grin spread across his face. “Don’t say I didn’t try. I’ll let you know what I find.” Mike shook her hand as Tom walked up. “Thank you for the suggestions, Mrs. Duley. I’ll check them out.” He went back to his car.

“Who was that?”

“Guy looking for old dressers to refinish. I sent him to the thrift shop.” Maggie put her arm around his waist and smiled up at him. “Let’s go to lunch after we finish up here.” She only felt a little remorse about not accepting Mike’s offer.

Mike called two days later. “I found the fiche. It was in one of the drawer pulls.”

Maggie was surprised. She had really checked that dresser. “Anything interesting?”

“Yeah. Can we meet?”

Curiosity spiked. “Uh, sure. Today, 2pm? Coffee shop on Main Street. I pick up the kids from school at three.”

They sat at an outside table where the sound of traffic on the street gave them privacy. After the waitress brought their coffee Mike said, “I made a copy.” He slid a thumb-drive across the table. Maggie scooped it up neatly as she reached for the sugar. “It’s not classified?”

“I deleted that stuff. The rest of it is a message to you.” He studied her face.

Maggie stirred her coffee. “They knew they were going to die?”

“It seems so.” He sighed. “Watch it. Call me when ever. I’ve always got an ear for you.” He rose, kissed the top of her head and paid the bill on the way out.

She watched it the next day after Tom and the kids left for work and school. The pictures were grainy and jumped erratically but it was her parents, just the way she remembered them. Tears fell silently down her face as they wished her long life and happiness. She watched it over and over until she had no tears left. After lunch she called Mike. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry it took so long to get it to you. I know how much it means.”

“Not your fault. I had that dresser for years.” She wiped away new tears. “I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. Call me, Maggie. Anytime.”

“I will.” She hung up, opened her jewelry box and took out the top tray. Maggie buried the thumb-drive under the junk bracelets and necklaces and closed it all up. After washing her face she sat on the front porch with a glass of iced tea and watched the birds hop around the lawn. Now that she was a mother she finally understood how her parents had protected her. Tom parked in the driveway – the two kids piled out of the car. “Mom!” they shouted as they raced across the yard. Oh yes, she thought. I’d do exactly the same.

The End

998 Words

Find more of the Forward Motion Flash Friday Group here: http://www.fmwriters.com/flash.html

Blog Post: Last Monday of 2014

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Gold Fish

Gold fish in large Tank by Randy Cockrell

It’s the last Monday of the year. I hope your Christmas was merry and bright. My daughter and her boyfriend came down from Flagstaff to visit both sets of families. Of course we all overdosed on turkey dinner. They got it twice. Presents were exchanged. I received books I’ve had on my list. I’m already a third of the way through one. We have had a quiet weekend. Sunday I spent time exploring a program called Daz3D. Its basic program is free with extra things you can buy to expand the options. I went through a lot of tutorials and spent an hour playing with it. It will take some time to learn how to create backgrounds, people/creatures, and effects. Check it out at Daz3D.com.

The garden is finished till growing season. I spread compost and planted onion and parsley seed. I should see activity in February or March, depending on the weather. The bed that’s overrun with mint, I spent a lot of time pulling roots, twice! But there’s still mint in there. I’ll have to be very diligent about pulling it up every time I see some poking its head up. In the meantime, I have a 2 foot square of grass that we planted for the dog who is now gone. I’ll drop some roots in there and see how they do. The square is surrounded by hostile ground, the hard, rocky, clay soil of my yard. It should stay contained there pretty well.

This week we have an invite to a New Year’s Eve get together and a New Year’s Day brunch. Both are pot lucks and I have my recipes selected. I’ll need one or two more ingredients so I’ll go shopping today for what’s still needed. Oh! I’ll take pictures of one of them and share it on another blog I where I post. It’s called Chicklet’s In the Kitchen on WordPress. I am scheduled to post on the 25th of every month.

On the writing front, I’ve been editing a short story called After Math. It’s been shopped out to three different contests and was rejected each time. I’ve revised it and sent it to a Content Editor for review. Once I get it back and make final changes, I’ll submit before the end of February deadline for that contest. I’m also working on my leprechaun story, called Lost Rainbows. That’s been edited and I’ll be passing it out to my beta readers this week. I hope to have it published by the end of January. If you’re interested in following this process more closely, sign up for my newsletter. Special offers show up there you may be interested in receiving.

Thanks for stopping by my blog today.

The Downtrodden: a Brown Rain Story released November 22nd! I’m pretty excited about it. You can buy it and my other books at: Apple, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, or Smashwords today!

Flash Fiction Friday Story: Sunday Morning in December

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Yard Dog, Snow, Sculpture

Yard Dog and Snow by Randy Cockrell

I drafted this story in the middle of National Novel Writing Month. I had Johnny Cash’s song, Sunday Morning Going Down, rolling through my brain and this story just demanded to be written. There is the occasional swear word. You’ve been warned.

John rolled out of bed and landed on the floor, tangled in the sheet, on his hands and knees. He glared at the digital clock covered in cigarette ash. Eleven twelve. Damn. I’m gonna be late. His mouth tasted like the floor of the dive bar he frequented and his breath smelled worse. He struggled to his feet, fighting the stinking, sweat soaked sheet. He needed to be on time.

In the cubicle the apartment manager generously called a bathroom, John used his sprung toothbrush to hack at his teeth. Toothpaste was long gone and baking soda had never entered the apartment. Water would have to do. After looking at his bloodshot eyes and scraggly beard he splashed his face with water and with the last sliver of bar soap, scrubbed his face and dragged the year old razor over his face. He emerged from the bathroom, bits of toilet paper stuck to cuts on his sunken cheeks and chin.

He staggered to the broken chest of drawers. They were all open to some degree or other. None of them closed all the way. John suspected the dresser had been made in 1920 and experienced a life much like his own, broken and desperate. Not a single drawer held a clean shirt or clean anything for that matter. He rummaged through the pile of clothes kicked into the far corner of the room. From the middle of the pile he selected his cleanest dirty shirt. The clothes rack next to the pile held a hanger with two ties, dirty and dirtier. He picked the dirty one and hung it around his neck.

John stumbled down the stairs. He did not want to be late. On the way he stopped at a corner store and bought a travel size mouthwash. While walking along the sidewalk he bit off the safety plastic, unscrewed the top and swigged the alcohol tasting stuff into his mouth. He spit it into the gutter, ignoring the gasps and comments of the church-going passers-by.

Fuck them, he thought. He was going to see his only son. The wreaths on the lamp poles and silver garland in the shop windows were ignored. His son had called him, said he wanted to meet. John wasn’t going to miss that, no matter what.

The bank sign across the street said eleven fifty eight. John spit on his hands, smoothed his hair back and straightened his tie. Before he gripped the tavern door handle, he took a deep breath. His son said to meet him here, at noon. John opened the door and stepped inside.

It was a good old-fashioned bar. John could tell as soon as he took a breath. If it wasn’t 2014 there’d be sawdust on the floor. He looked around the dim room. Cool and inviting, there were only a few men in the room. Most sat at the bar, but one was in a booth. He walked to the booth.

“Jim?” he asked the guy.

The man looked up at him. This couldn’t be his son, he was too old. “No, I’m Sam.”

John shook his head and stared at the men at the bar. “Jim?” he called out. No one turned. He walked up to the bartender who was reading a paper. “I’m meeting my son, Jim. He been in yet?”

The bartender put down his paper and eyed John. “No, no one by that name today.”

John felt a flush of panic. It was noon. “I’m supposed to meet my son. Jim. Today.” He grasped the rounded wooden edge of the bar. “You haven’t seen him?”

The bartender folded his paper and glared. “Nope, no Jim.”

John walked down the row of men on stools, grabbing them and turning them so he could see their faces. He rushed back to the end of the bar where the bartender stood, hand under the bar top.
“Are you sure? I was supposed to meet him here. I’m John Delancy. He’s Jim. Jim Delancy.”

From the end of the bar an old man spoke. “Hey, Mike. Don’t you have a letter under there? I remember it.”

The bartender rubbed the two day rubble on his face. “Maybe. Let me look.” He rummaged under the bar for a minute until he pulled a small box out onto the bartop. “I may have something.” He shuffled the bits.  From the bottom he pulled up a tattered, dirty envelope. He peered at the writing. “It’s to John Delancy.”

John leaned forward. Hope and eagerness filled his face. “That’s me!”

“You got ID?”

Stunned, John hesitated. “Uh, yeah.” He fumbled his wallet out of his inner sport coat pocket. The coat was shiny with dirt and sweat. He unfolded his wallet and pulled out a driver’s license, fifteen years out of date, and handed it to the bartender. “That’s me! Right there.”

The bartender looked at it and handed over the envelope. John ripped it open and nearly tore the letter as he pulled it out. It took him a second to open it. He spread it out on the the bar and squinted at it in the dim light.

Pa.

I expected as much. You just couldn’t keep our appointment. I thought you might change. I hoped you might change, now that there’s a grandson. How stupid could I be? I give up. You’ll never change. We’ll get along without out you, we always have.

Jim

John read the letter again and again. He finally looked at the very top, it was dated December 12th, 2013. He slumped onto the nearest bar stool. His face sagged. “Bar keep.”

“Yeah,” the man called from the other end of the bar.

“Beer.”

 

The End

950 Words

Find more of the Forward Motion Flash Friday Group here:http://www.fmwriters.com/flash.html

Flash Fiction Friday: Fall Hike

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See Canyon Fall Hike by Randy Cockrell October 2014

See Canyon Fall Hike by Randy Cockrell October 2014

Jean Hays was doing what she came to Arizona for, hiking. The fall colors here were muted, for the most part. Yellow dominated the central mountains fall color scheme unless you hiked down into a canyon. Then, the hiker saw all the colors of an Eastern fall day. Fallen leaves rustled underfoot and the smell was pure autumn, dusty, leafy, and woodsy. The sky was cloudless and she didn’t have a name for the color, but only was seen in October.

Her hiking partner was her friend, Karen Carver. They’d first met when Jean joined the Hise County Fair board. Karen was a Superintendent at the fair in charge of Homemaking Arts. They’d hit it off right away. The Fair was over for the year. It was time to enjoy the countryside.

The stream bed they’d been following had a trickle of water in it. It caught the sky above and reflected that glorious blue. Red and yellow maple leaves floated along with the water. When they came to a small pool, Jean called a break. Karen slipped her pack from her back and pulled out a well used Girl Scout sit-upon.

“Looks like you’ve had that awhile,” Jean said when she saw Karen spread it on a fallen tree trunk.

“I have.” She sat down and pulled a granola bar from her pocket. “It was my daughter, Peggy’s. It’s still good, so I use it. I don’t know if she even remembers I still have it.” She looked at what Jean was pulling out of her pack. “What’s that?”

“I cut up a foam floating mat to fit in the back of my pack. It’s the perfect size, good protection from wet, cold,” she examined a snag on the trunk and moved down a few inches, “and sharp things.” She pulled a baggie of Sungold cherry tomatoes out of the pack. “The last of the garden cherrys, want some?” Jean held out the bag.

Karen took four and popped one in her mouth. “Oh my, those are so good.”

Jean pulled a water bottle from the pack outside pocket and drank. Her eyes focused on something on the opposite side of the pool. “That doesn’t look natural.”

She walked around the pool and scrambled part way up the canyon’s side to a tree. “It’s a duffle bag,” she called down to Karen. “It’s a big duffle.”

“Who’d carry a duffle bag on a hike?” Karen wondered.

Jean tugged at it. It came loose from where it had lodged against the tree and rolled down the slope. The rotten canvas, discolored and moldy, split open when it hit a rock. Jean slipped down the hill and looked inside. “Oh my, God.” She danced away from the bag, back around the pool and stood panting beside Karen, now standing.

“What’s wrong?”

Jean stared at the bag. “It’s a body.”

#

Two hours later Greyson Chief of Police Nick White was standing with the women while police officers, EMT’s and Search and Rescue people milled around the area. “Two bodies in two months, Ms. Hays. I think that’s a record.”

Jean shrugged, annoyed with him. She’d found a body at the fair in September and stirred the whole town up. What could she say? It wasn’t her fault.

“In fairness, Chief,” Karen interceded for her friend. “We were just enjoying the day.”

“Huh,” he grunted. He pointed up the side of the canyon were police officers were taking pictures and measurements. “So you just pulled on it, it rolled down hill, hit the rock and split open?”

“Yeah.” She looked up at the sky, still blue but now spoiled somehow. “I grabbed the left end of the bag, where it’s cleaner than the rest. My feet were slipping on the leaves so I didn’t have a lot of control over it.” Jean still wasn’t over how he’d treated her during the Fair murder. It was as though he thought she was a bubble head or something. His tone of voice irked her now.

The coroner called out. “We have ID in the bag, Chief.”

“What’s the name?”

“Anson Prentiss. License is from 2003, 42 years of age, 5 ft 11 inches. Address is in Greyson.”

Nick White sighed. “Not going to look good on our stats, two murders in one year.”

Jean’s right eyebrow raised. Karen whispered, “I’ll explain later.”

“OK, get him to the morgue. Give the address to Boles, he can go check it out.” He turned to Jean and Karen. “You’re free to go. We have your statements.”

The women pulled on their packs and hiked out the way they came in. “What do you think?” Jean asked her friend.

“Anson Prentiss doesn’t ring a bell. But you know Greyson has a lot of new people move in each year. Or he could have been a summer person. Who knows?”

“Do you know the address?” Jean asked.

Karen stopped in the middle of the trail and turned around to stare at her friend. “Seriously? After the last time? You want to get involved?”

“Sure, why not?” Jean’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “If only to annoy Chief White. The guy’s attitude bugs me.”

Karen rolled her eyes and turned to continue hiking. “Yeah, I know the address, well, sort of. It’s in the old part of town, on the northeast side. You really want to go there?”

“Why not? We can just drive by; we don’t have to knock on the door or anything.” She grinned even though Karen couldn’t see her. We solved the last murder, didn’t we? We’ll just look, I promise.”

That statement made Karen snort. Jean could see her shake her head. “OK, we’ll drive by. That’s it.”

“Hoo!” Jean whooped. “We can stop for ice cream afterward.”

 

The End

962 Words

Find more of the Forward Motion Flash Friday Group here: http://www.fmwriters.com/flash.html

Last Monday in November

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Thanksgiving Day, Mom, Turkey

My mom checking out the Thanksgiving Day turkey. Photo by Randy Cockrell

Are you wondering, as I am, where 2014 went? Zoom! It’s gone. Thanksgiving is upon us already. My hubby and I are going to a friend’s house for the big meal. We’re bringing coleslaw. In my family we called it Cabbage Salad and cabbage was grated on an old fashioned box grater along with a carrot and an onion. Miracle Whip was the dressing. Now, since I’m celiac, Miracle Whip is out of the question. But I still make a pretty mean ‘cabbage salad’ and it reminds me of my childhood. It wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without it.

I’m definitely on tap to sign books at the Swiss Village Small Business Saturday Christmas kickoff.  http://conniesrandomthoughts.wordpress.com/where-will-i-be/. On Saturday the 29th, the biggest day of the three day event, I’ll have a tent set up to sell and sign my books. I have invites out to a few other authors, so I’m hoping there will be four of us there to say hi and sign books. The event starts at 10am and runs until after Santa leaves, probably 9pm. Hope to see you there.

I’m still doing well on my National Novel Writing Month challenge. I’ve passed the 40K  point and to be honest, I’m enjoying the story more and more. Estimated release date? Maybe March. I’ll see how the revisions and editing go.

My book, The Downtrodden, book two of the Brown Rain series is up on Smashwords and I’m working to get it up on Amazon. I’m having a bit of a cover snafu but it will be resolved soon. As usual, I’d love to have some reviews. Sign up for my newsletter and tell me you’d like to do a review and I’ll send you a free ebook. Go to the button on the right side of the blog or go to my Newsletter tab to sign up. Or sign up here. Use Control, Click to access the link.

I’ve been working on cleaning up my garden from the summer excesses. The compost bin has been cleaned out and two garden beds (I do raised bed gardens here in central Arizona) have been cleaned of dead or dying vegetation and readied for winter. We’ve had several frosts and even the Swiss Chard is lying limp and sad in the garden bed. The sage, however seems to be as healthy as ever. I’ll use fresh sage for as long as it lasts. Then I have an awesome supply of dried to get me through the winter.

I mentioned that I’m getting ready for my mom to come and live with me. I’ve ordered a new bed for her and curtains that have already arrived. We still need to clean the room, paint and put up the curtains and new furniture. We are going to have so much fun.

Thanks for stopping by my blog today.

The Downtrodden: a Brown Rain Story released November 22nd! I’m pretty excited about it. You can buy it and my other books at: Apple, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, or Smashwords today!

More News on Where I’ll be and Other News from my Life

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Bird, Fence, Fall Color

Bird on Fence by Randy Cockrell

The picture is of a western jay sitting on my back fence. The neighbor’s tree is in the background in full fall color.

I updated my Where I’ll Be page on my blog. http://conniesrandomthoughts.wordpress.com/where-will-i-be/. I’ve just lined up an author signing here in Payson for November 29th. The Swiss Village shopping strip has a Christmas kick-off the Friday, Saturday and Sunday after Thanksgiving. On Saturday the 29th, the biggest day of the three day event, I’ll have a tent set up to sell and sign my books. I have invites out to a few other authors, so I’m hoping there will be four of us there to say hi and sign books. The event starts at 10am and runs until after Santa leaves, probably 9pm. Hope to see you there.

I’m still doing well on my National Novel Writing Month challenge. I’ve passed the halfway point and to be honest, I’m really getting into this story. Estimated release date? Maybe March. I’ll see how the revisions and editing go.

My book, The Downtrodden, book two of the Brown Rain series came back from the editors and I’ve made all of my corrections. Now I need to format it and get it put up on Amazon and other places. As usual, I’d love to have some reviews. Sign up for my newsletter and tell me you’d like to do a review and I’ll send you a free PDF file of the book. Go to the button on the right side of the blog or go to my Newsletter tab to sign up. Or sign up here. Use Control, Click to access the link.

We started having a cold snap two days ago so I brought my lemon tree, my bay leaf tree, my jade plant and my daughter’s plant inside. I picked all of the rest of the tomatoes and peppers, sweet and hot. Once we get a really hard frost, I’ll go out and clean up the garden beds for the winter.

I mentioned last week I’m getting ready for my mom to come and live with me. Saturday I found a used chest of drawers. It is in very good shape. I’ll paint it to match the bed and put it in the room we’re prepping for her. I’m so excited.

 

Thanks for stopping by my blog today.

First Encounter: a Brown Rain Story released September 18th! I’m pretty excited about it. You can buy it and my other books at: Apple, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, or Smashwords today!

Cover Reveal and an Update on Where I’ll Be

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Cover, Downtrodden, Brown Rain

The Downtrodden, book 2 of the Brown Rain series Cover Reveal

That’s my cover for the next book in my Brown Rain Series: The Downtrodden. I may tweak the back cover blurb but it’s essentially done. What do you think? It’s going through final edits now. I hope to release it by the end of November.

I updated my Where I’ll Be page on my blog. http://conniesrandomthoughts.wordpress.com/where-will-i-be/. I’m scheduled to talk to the Soroptimist Club meeting on December 10th at Tiny’s Restaurant on Highway 260 at noon. The meeting is open to the public so come on by the hear me and check out this wonderful organization.

I’m still doing more words per day than necessary on my National Novel Writing Month challenge. I’m well ahead of the daily goal though I’m nowhere near the number of words some of my other writer friends have done. They get into it and really produce, some of them two or even three in the month.

I’m getting ready for my mom to come and live with me. We’re painting the room that will be her bedroom, buying curtains, and furniture. We’re going to have a lot of fun once she gets here.

Thanks for stopping by my blog today.

Like any author, my books sell based on reviews. Would you be interested in getting a free copy to review for me? Go to the button on the right side of the blog or go to my Newsletter tab to sign up. Or sign up here. Use Control, Click to access the link.

First Encounter: a Brown Rain Story released September 18th! I’m pretty excited about it. You can buy it and my other books at: Apple, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, or Smashwords today!

Flash Fiction Friday: Lesson Learned

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Coming Home With Hope by John Tansey-d2yt708 via www.DeviantArt.com

Coming Home With Hope by John Tansey-d2yt708 via www.DeviantArt.com

Once upon a time there lived a great King. He had a son, Prince Alphonse and a daughter, Princess Julia. The Queen, Margaret, loved her children very much. King Archibald loved his children as well but held them to very high standards.

Alphonse and Julia understood this. After all, they were the offspring of a great King. During the summer of Alphonse’s twenty-second year, he won the intra-Kingdom swordsmanship contest. A parade was held in his honor and the people cheered and cheered as he passed by. When Alphonse knelt before the King, his father, to receive the sash of accomplishment, the King held the sash high to the wild acclaim of the crowd. But when he placed the sash over his son’s head, the King whispered, “Your posta longas and thrusts were sloppy, son.” Alphonse bowed his head. His joy at winning was shattered.

That autumn, Julia competed against all of the maidens of the land in an archery competition. The princess out-performed all of the maidens by many points. A dinner was held in her honor. The King held her trophy aloft as she stood next to him and the crowd cheered and clapped. As he turned and handed it to her he whispered, “But you missed two bull’s eyes, my dear.” Julia took the trophy and held it up to the audience but her achievement felt like ashes in her mouth.

The next spring, Prince Alphonse declared he would have an adventure. He gathered a handful of trusted friends and galloped away. For a time carrier pigeons brought news but after a year, no news arrived.

The Queen grew sad but the King said, “He’s on an adventure. He’ll return soon covered in glory.”

The next year, just after her eighteenth birthday, Princess Julia declared, “I wish to sail to far off lands.” She gathered a handful of her friends who were also expert sailors, and they sailed away into the dawn at high tide.

The Queen wept every day. Both of her children were gone from her. The King said, “She’ll return covered in glory.”

A year, then two, then three passed by with no news. The Queen became melancholy. She stopped organizing balls and fairs. The King grew stricter. Nothing his councilors did was good enough. The people of the kingdom received stricter and stricter laws concerning quality, law, and production. He never smiled any more.

After five years the people, crushed under the restrictive laws began to rebel. Mud clods were hurled at the King when he rode through the streets. Lawlessness increased and the once nearly empty prisons filled to overflowing.

“What’s happening?” he cried out to the Queen one night in their apartments.

Queen Margaret looked up at him from her needlepoint. “It’s you. Nothing is good enough for you. You tighten the law until your subjects cannot make a move that’s within the law.”

“I’m looking out for them,” he shouted, red-faced. “I’m helping them improve.”

Margaret raised an eyebrow. “And now our children are gone and the people throw mud at you.”

He stared at her for a moment before his shoulders slumped. He pulled on his velvet robe and left the bedroom.

Two years later look-outs at the edge of the kingdom sent homing pigeons to the castle. Princess Julia’s ship was heading for home port.

The King and Queen hugged when they heard the news. The Queen began preparations for a welcome home ball. The tow of then stood on the castle ramparts most of everyday eager for the sight of the royal ship’s masts. When the ship was sighted, cannons boomed and church bells rang.

When the ship pulled into port, the King and Queen were waiting on the dock. They could scarcely breathe as the ropes were tied off and the gangway was lowered.

The Queen gasped when she saw not only Julia, but also Alphonse, step onto the gang plank and walk toward them. Tears flowed as she ran forward to hug them both as soon as they stepped on the dock. After many tears and kisses, the two siblings stepped toward their father. Before they could kneel, the King grabbed them both into a bear hug, tears in his eyes. “Forgive me, children. I was a fool.”

Julia and Alphonse traded looks of surprise. “No, Father,” Alphonse said as he clapped his father on the shoulder. “You have never been a fool.”

“We came because of the messages, Father.” Julia reached up to stroke her father’s face.

Queen Margaret’s eyes went wide.

“I’ve missed you both.” He held them at arm’s length, filling his eyes with the sight of them. “I was too hard on you. Too demanding.”

Julia hugged him tight. “We love you, Father. Your messages at every port said it all.”

That night at the ball to welcome them home the King made a speech. “Welcome home to Prince Alphonse and Princess Julia. They left home to escape my hard heart. I never took joy in their accomplishments – I just demanded more. When they left, I demanded more and more from my subjects. I’ve nearly brought my kingdom to ruin. I declare tomorrow a day of Thanksgiving. All laws passed since Julia sailed away will be rescinded. Anyone convicted of breaking those laws will be released. A feast will be held at the jousting grounds for the whole town.”

He held his arms wide and beamed at his family. “My children have returned.”

 

The End

913 Words

Find more of the Forward Motion Flash Friday Group here: http://www.fmwriters.com/flash.html

Sewing, Cooking, Planning for NaNo, Writing, and Christmas Cards?

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H Ween002

Hubby and me, Bad Witch and Good Witch, photo by Randy Cockrell

Saturday my hubby and I attended a Halloween party with a lot of our hiking friends. That’s the pic, there at the top of the post. We had a lot of fun. I went as a good witch and made my own costume. That’s where the sewing part came in. I had to modify hubby’s costume as well so, more sewing there.

The planning for National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo or NaNo) proceeds down to the wire. I still need two stories for the 14th and 28th of Thanksgiving.  My outline for my Cozy Mystery, working title, Mystery at the Fair, continues with difficulty. I have 45 scenes. I seem to toss more than I write new. I keep going through the cards, wondering where I can insert more trouble for my main protagonist, Jean Hays. I’m starting to wonder if I need another plot line. I have 4 days to figure it out.

I’ve also been thinking about the cover for Mystery at the Fair. Since I want to write these as a series, I’ve been contemplating the theme that will continue from book cover to book cover. My first thought is to have the same background color on each book. I’ll keep you posted on what the unifying element will be. If you don’t know, NaNo is a writing challenge. Every November thousands of authors, new and experienced, try to write 50,000 words or more in the month. It turns out to be 1667 words per day, minimum. You can go to the website and check it out. www.nanowrimo.org/en/sign_in It’s free to join and there are forums to visit to talk with others about writing.

I’m well into the final edits for the second book in my Brown Rain series. It’s at the editor’s now and I expect I’ll have it back from them in the next day or two. I’ll make the final corrections and start the formatting process. I finished the cover for it. It looks great. I think I’ll do the cover reveal next Monday. Stay tuned for that.

That thyme? Still on the drying rack. Sigh. I’d better hurry up and get that down and the rosemary and sage up on the rack.

Oh, and the Christmas Cards? I have made my own Christmas Cards for several years. It’s so much fun to pick a design and then the paper and colors and make all the pieces for assembly. The problem is that I send out about 60 cards, it’s a big family and we have a lot of friends. Unfortunately, it’s the end of October and I don’t have anything planned. Then there’s NaNo taking up a lot of time in November. So, I’ve decided that there won’t be homemade cards this year. I’m a little bummed but relieved that I can put that stress away to concentrate on writing. So, to my friends and family used to getting a homemade card, I apologize, but something has to give.

Thanks for stopping by my blog today.

Like any author, my books sell based on reviews. Would you be interested in getting a free copy to review for me? Go to the button on the right side of the blog or go to my Newsletter tab to sign up. Or sign up here. Use Control, Click to access the link.

First Encounter: a Brown Rain Story released September 18th! I’m pretty excited about it. You can buy it and my other books at: Apple, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, or Smashwords today!

Writing Platform? Do I have One?

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Phoebe at Park by Randy Cockrell

Phoebe at Park by Randy Cockrell

When I saw this month’s topic, to be honest, I was baffled. I didn’t know what that meant. So, being a modern woman I went to the internet to get some help. I stumbled on http://www.be-a-better-writer.com/writing-platform.html and checked out the definition there. Here’s the first paragraph on their page.

“Having a writing platform means that you have an audience, and that you have some vehicle in place to reach that audience when you have books to sell. This platform is as important to those not yet published as it is to established writers.”

Oh! Yeah, how am I contacting people, selling books, putting my name out there? Good question. The site offers thirteen things you should or could do to create a rounded “platform”. If you’re interested in what they suggest, check out the site. However, we get all of this same information right here on Forward Motion. Here are a few of the things I do.

Aside from writing the next book, which is the number one suggestion, I started a blog. One day I’ll turn it into a regular website but for now, until I start earning money from my books, the blog does much of what a website will do for me. It forces me to write to my audience on a regular basis. I’ve settled on two days per week, Monday and Friday. Friday’s are for a flash fiction piece. It tends to be a little rough. After all, I’m putting out a story a week! But that regularity helps me be consistent. Don’t think I gained a lot of readers right off the bat, it took a long time and I still have fewer than 500. Monday posts are for getting to know me. I share news about my garden, my writing, my family, my hobbies. I’ve focused my blog on my readers, not other authors. You won’t find author tips there but you may find a recipe to use the abundance of your garden.

I have business cards for my writing. That’s another suggestion. When I mention that I’m an author, people want to take a look at what I’m writing. A business card makes it easy. I use the cover of my most recent book as the graphic and usually print ten or so at a time with my facebook page and blog page listed so people can find me. When do I buy business cards? See the next paragraph.

To get more exposure, do an author signing, or a reading at the local library, or give a presentation to a local group. An author signing can be at a book store, the local library or in my case, a local craft fair. I made sure I had plenty of professional looking business cards made up, they cost about $10, and I had a postcard made as a give away at my table. It’s good to offer a little something extra to those that buy your book. And it’s nice to have something with your info on it to give those who look interested but don’t buy right that minute.

Another thing I’ve done is help other authors. I had a lot of help in my path to learn how to be an author. Now, I feel confident enough to help other authors. Being generous with my knowledge helps others and who do you think they’ll mention to their readers when they talk about how they became successful? This is a good place to mention that you can use your website or blog platform to help authors advertise their books. Give them a platform or give them a review. It’s all good.

There are a lot of other ways to add to your writer’s platform. Some I have the time and competence to do, others I’ve not tried yet. If you’re a reader, how do you feel about going to your favorite author’s website? If you’re an author, what do you do to build your writer’s platform? Feel free to leave a comment in the comment box below.

About the picture above. I was looking for a picture of puzzlement. I didn’t find any I liked but I did come across this picture of a little chihuahua I know, Phoebe. It was so cute I had to use it.

The Merry-Go-Round Blog Tour is sponsored by the website Forward Motion (http://www.fmwriters.com). The tour is you, the reader, travelling the world from author’s blog to author’s blog. There are all sorts of writers at all stages in their writing career, so there’s always something new and different to enjoy. If you want to get to know the nearly twenty other writers check out the rest of the tour at http://merrygoroundtour.blogspot.com!  Up next: Jean Schara!