Tuesday's Tales - Flower

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Today's word prompt is Flower and I've shifted to another WIP. My heroine takes off on Christmas day in an attempt to outrun the festivities. She has no destination in mind and ends up calling at a fully book B&B for directions to the nearest petrol station.

 

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The gravelled surface of the driveway glowed golden and silver. A welcoming contrast to more of the high dark, stark hedging she’d driven past for the last ten miles. The drive curved round to her right before the hedge ended and revealed a large colonnaded house. It reminded her more of an ancestral home than a commonal-garden B&B. Pity it was fully booked.

The charm of the place called to her.

She pulled the car to a stop in front of the stone steps and cut the engine and looked about her. A large sweep of lawn ended in another high hedge. No doubt edging the road she’d just left.

The sunshine reflected off the grey stonework, and glistening windows twinkled like diamonds. Whoever ran the place loved it. Even from where she still sat behind the steering wheel and peered up at the building an aura of warmth and love reached out to her.

To the right of the house trees, enough of them to describe them as a small wood ran way beyond the back of the building. Was it all part of the property, or did it run out into what she assumed would be more of the fields she’d glimpsed in the gaps and opening in the hedges? She picked up her bag and slid out from behind the wheel and looked behind her. The drive narrowed again from the semi-circle in front of the house, and rhododendrons already showing the promise of a full head of flowers next spring bowed to the lane that separated them. Too dark for her liking.

If she had a place like this she’d cut such large bushes back and create a sense of space. Not that the place needed it. It looked massive, and the grounds promised to be much the same. Did it have the proverbial fishing lake at the back of the property, or perhaps somewhere beyond the trees. Did the farmland she’d been passing belong to this place? How the other half lived. She’d have liked to spend at least one night here. Pity about the full booking. But she still needed to know how far until she found a petrol station that would be open today, so she slipped the strap of her bag onto her shoulder, pushed the wisp of hair the breeze had blown into her face back behind her ear and headed for the massive wood panelled door.

 

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Tuesday's Tales ~ Ghostly

Welcome to Tuesday's Tales 

This week's snippet returns to where we left off a couple of weeks ago.

 

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The put-put sound of the boat’s motor drew closer, seemed to Ludo to idle and then, slowly, faded away. Until he gasped for much needed air he hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath. He looked back at his companion and noted the deep furrows between her eyes.

“Not disappointed are you?” Where the hell had that brainless line come from? He was, he knew that, but it didn’t mean she felt the same tug of— what? Attraction? Definitely.

Lust? Hell, yes, just say it as it was. It was one more crazy in twenty-four hours of crazy, the likes of which he’d never experienced before, and he’d experienced plenty of crazy in this lifetime.

The stare she directed at him should have douched the heat burning up inside him. It failed. He liked a challenge and unwittingly she’d sent out a challenge he’d take great pleasure in accepting.

The ghostly image of a dark-haired woman, her hair blowing in the warm breeze, her smile challenging the sun, snuck into his mind. He pushed it away. It was the past.

Gone. Dead and buried, along with his son, Jerrard. But this was another woman, no smile, for sure. But what a look, and he’d fall into those eyes anytime, dream or no dream. And this was no dream. The sound of the ignition whirring into life killed the distant memories and he looked at her then clung on as the car inched forward over the rutted track and headed for the main road.

Did she have a destination in mind? It seemed so as she didn’t hesitate to turn right and ease into the busy flow of traffic.

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Tuesday's tales ~Picture prompt

 

Welcome to Tuesday's Tales 

 

This week is Picture prompt week when we are constricted to 300 words inspired by the picture.

 

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 While this week's snippet is from the same WIP and is further on in the story, but may - or may not- be used in the final story. :-)

 

Ludo prowled round his sitting room ignoring the astronomically priced paintings on the walls. The only image in his mind was Kate’s face when he’d placed a fancy coloured drink on the table in front of her. Ashen, not pale, not white, but a deathly grey. What possessed him to assume that because every other female he knew had plumped for the fancy option that Kate would do too?

Not even the slap of his palm across his forehead banished her stricken look, her race for the door and her frantic dash across the car park, in the wrong direction. His hand shifted to the scratches she’d raked down his cheek when he’d caught up with her. Wherever the sight of the drink had taken her, she’d no longer been with him, hadn’t recognised him and fought him with a strength bourn of terror. It still astounded him nearly a week later, that no one had called the police to report a man attacking a woman in the car park. After all it had taken more than ten minutes to calm her down enough to persuade Kate to return to his car.

Her silence on the journey back concerned him nearly as much as her earlier reactions and convinced him not to leave her alone and to take her to his place. The silence continued when he showed her into his spare room, and minutes later returned with one of his t-shirts.

Should he leave her, offer to stay? He wanted to wrap his arms round the desolate figure standing in the middle of the room her arms wrapped round her waist in what looked like a death grip.  “Do you want to talk?”

The tears spilling down her cheeks wrecked him, and he swept her into his arms.

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Tuesday's Tales ~ Letter(s)

 

Welcome to Tuesday's Tales  

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This week our prompt word is Letter(s). My snippet continues from last week.

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“What are you doing?” She’d slowed to a stop and cut the engine. “I thought you said we need to get out of here.”

“We do.” Her gaze rested on the plastic carrier bag on the floor at his feet. The second size choice clothes he’d stuffed back into the container.

“So what are we waiting for?”

She glanced up at him then beyond him, out the window. “For the boat to pass by.”

“And if they don’t?” He fought the urge to twist round and check of the vessel’s progress. “If they decide to pull in here and stay awhile, what do we do then?”

The wry smile that tipped her lips in a half-curve heated his blood and had him resorting to studying the bag of clothes at his feet. The pink and purple print of the letters morphed into the wry smile he’d been trying to evade. The thought of kissing his rescuer may not be sensible but it sure chased the chill out his bones. Those lips, still tantalizingly curved...

“Are you suggesting we make out in the car?” He swallowed the taste of his rising desire, turned his head to look out of the window in an effort not to inhale the scent of her. “We’re strangers, or do you come on to anyone in trousers?”

Bitterness swamped him. Did she expect a sexual reward for rescuing him?

“Of course not.” Her outraged denial brought his attention back to the woman.

“What?”

“I neither want nor expect any favours, sexual or otherwise, for rescuing you from the boot of my car. But—” she looked beyond him, “—if they come across a kissing couple in a car, hopefully they’ll do nothing more than thump on the roof, and exchange a few ribald comments on their way past.”

Damn but his ‘new’ jeans felt tight, his throat parched and his hands clammy. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so nervous at the thought of kissing a girl. Not that his companion was a girl. No indeed, the woman sitting beside him reeked of sensuality.

 

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Tuesday's Tales - Pretty

Welcome to Tuesday's Tales  

This week our prompt word is PRETTY and my snippet continues from last week. Having escaped their pursuers, Kate's now wondering how stupid she's been to help a stranger evade his attackers, and what possible retribution will fall on her head for her well-meaning but possible stupid actions. 

His deep voice resonated deep within her. Geeze how could she notice something like that in such a situation? Gathering her scattered wits Kate leaned in and helped the man to a kneeling position.

“No, it wasn’t me, and no, I don’t know who attacked you and bundled you into my car,” she said at the same time wondering how her voice came out so steadily when her insides were melting. “Who are you and why were you trussed up like a chicken and bundled into my car?”

Under the circumstances she shouldn’t notice his powerful build. Her hands should itch to release his bonds so they could skim over his torso, and further, not want to stroke all over that glistening skin.

Before he could respond she held up the scissors. “I’m sorry I only have these. I never thought to buy a knife to cut the cords.” She smacked her hand to her forehead and rushed to get a bottle of water out of the shopping bag on the back seat.

“Here, drink this.” She uncapped the bottle, held it to his lips and gradually tipped it up until he drained the contents dry. He held his hands out and watched her attempt to cut, and then saw through the nylon. The moment his hands were free the man tried to climb out of his prison.

“Wait.” Holding her hand up like a traffic cop Kate went back for the jersey she’d bought. “I had to guess your size,” she explained, “but put this on before you do anything else.” Not sure whether relief or disappointment roared through her system when the sweater fell below his hips, Kate moved closer to allow him to use her shoulder as a prop while he struggled to manoeuvre into a position to swing his legs over the sill of the car to allow her to release those bonds too.

“Who are you,” she asked again. “And why…”

“I don’t know why for sure, and although I have an idea of who, I’m not certain enough to name names.”

Dropping to her knees, Kate began cutting through the nylon cord. And wondered whether she was out of her mind to release a stranger who refused share his name or explain who had dumped him in her car and why. Anger nudged her concern to one side. Had she been mad to drive away knowing he was in her boot? And to do so knowing a bunch of strangers were now after her as well as the man waiting for her to free his legs? Upon reflection it seemed pretty stupid.

“I won’t hurt you.”

His voice snapped her out of her contemplation and she realised she’d sat back on her heals, her hands, still holding the scissors, resting in her lap.

 

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Tuesday's Tales ~ Picture Prompt

Tuesday's Tales - Curly

Welcome to Tuesday's Tales  

 

 

This week is our picture prompt  and my snippet moves on a bit from last week My heroine has found a deserted place where she can safely release her unwanted passenger from the boot/trunk of her car.

Quarter of an hour later she spotted a turnoff that appeared to head in the general direction of a wood.

“Turning off,” she sang out.  “Hopefully I’ll be able to let you out if there’s no one around. Just hang in there.”

Encouraged by the bumpy track Kate slowed right down and came to a stop beside row of overgrown bushes. Not a known public recreation area, more likely private property, she thought as she slid from the car and raced round to lift the boot lid. Light bounced off nearby water. A lake? A pond? Did that mean she had stopped near someone’s house? She hoped not.

Sweat shone slick and damp on the man’s skin. His eyes remained closed and he didn’t shift when she struggled to remove the case she’d wedged behind his back.

“Damn.” Her curse echoed on the humid air. She’d forgotten to get a knife to cut his ropes. Dashing to passenger door Kate delved into her bag and came up with her nail scissors. The nylon cords binding the victim may not be very thick, but she expected her small pair of scissor would struggle to cut through them. Not sure what she was looking for Kate searched her surroundings for something that might cut through the bonds more easily. A long dilapidated shed, its wooden doors all hanging off the hinges, and the corrugated tin sheeting on the roof looked as though it my dissolve into dust if something touched it. It looked too lonely and neglected to be part of someone’s home.

With a sigh she cast another assessing glance at the man and found herself under observation.

“I sincerely hope you were not the person who knocked me senseless this morning. At least I presume it was this morning.”

 

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Tuesday's Tales ~ Ribbon

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Way-Hay! Tuesday's Tales is back, after a short summer break. This week our prompt word is RIBBON and my snippet is from the opening scene in the 2nd chapter. My hero is in for a nasty surprise when he regains consciousness....

Pain and bitter cold threatened to spin him back into the blackness. His head ached and his face throbbed. Something hard, wedged behind his back, pinned him down against the freezing metal floor of his prison. He tried moving and groaned. Ropes cut into his wrists and ankles and noise seeped into his woozy brain. A whooshing sound that overrode the pounding of his blood in his ears.

Movement. Judging by the blackness around him, and the constant sound of an engine, he was trussed up like a chicken and in the boot of a vehicle. The blast of a nearby horn warred with the pain in his head and he swallowed another groan. Better whoever was driving thought him still senseless. How long had been out? Hard to say because the last thing he could remember was going to bed. Last night? Was it still night time, or later?

He vaguely remembered seeing a ribbon of light seeping between the crack in the curtains. So, not night time.  Fighting against the pain he tried to marshal his thoughts. He’d been asleep when something woke him, but before he could try and work it out, the blow to his head knocked him senseless. Had the intruder attacked him? If so why? And what about the female voice that filtered into his semi-consciousness? Where did she fit in, if she fitted in at all?

The muffled sound of a female singing along to the radio reached him. Good lard, was his attacker a female? His cousin’s mother was a formidable woman but even she wouldn’t stoop to physical violence on her nephew. Unless of course, she was part of…

He tensed when he heard the engine change pitch. Were they stopping would someone come and let him out? No, the engine was idling. Lights? God knew he didn’t want to remain incarcerated in the vehicle but until he could mentally prepare himself he’s take however more minutes he could get to sort out his thoughts and to try and make sense of what was happening to him.

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Tuesday's Tales - Picture Prompt

Welcome to Tuesday's Tales

Welcome to Tuesday Tales and this week's picture prompt . This excerpt is taken from Megan's Story, the follow-on WIP from Duty Calls. [The large print version available at online outlets from May 29th] Luke Hawk is Rafe's half-brother (Duty Calls) and Megan's brother. (working title - Megan's Story) It is taken from an earlier scene than the one last week.

 

A couple of rings later Luke answered. “Vince? Hi, are you still intending to visit Megan?”

“Luke,” Vince ignored Luke’s question. “Listen to me. I’m with Megan now, and I think you should get here without delay, and call your parents and get them here too.”

“Hell, man. You’re scaring the shit out of me Vince. What the hell’s going on? If you’ve done anything to hurt her, you’ll regret it.”

“Luke, I’d never hurt her, surely you know that? I can’t discuss it on the phone, but she needs you all here now.” Vince waited long enough to hear Luke confirm he’s talk with his parents and get them and himself to Megan’s as quickly as possible before cutting the call.

Gently he eased Megan away from him and scanned the room for a comforter to wrap her in before taking off his Jacket and pulling it round her shoulders. He banked every cushion he could find around her before crossing the room to switch on the fire. Cheerful gas-induced flames leaped to life, creating an orange pattern of dancing flames on the opposite wall.

When he’d arrived, the summer sunlight filtered through a growing accumulation of grey clouds, now those clouds obscured it completely, darkening the normally cheerful room. Vince headed to the kitchen and filled the kettle with cold water. He opened cabinet doors searching for mugs or cups and saucers. The fourth try yielded up several cheerfully decorated mugs. He lifted two down and placed them on the counter top. Another search revealed tea, coffee and sugar containers. 

 

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Tuesday Tales 3rd June ~ bottom

 

Welcome to Tuesday's Tales

Welcome to Tuesday Tales where 'bottom' is the prompt word today. This excerpt is taken from Megan's Story, the follow-on WIP from Duty Calls. [The large print version available at online outlets from May 29th] Luke Hawk is Rafe's half-brother (Duty Calls) and Megan's brother. (working title - Megan's Story)

“I’m sorry, I came in as the last of your pupils departed. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Luke Hawk.”

With a nod Amy acknowledged his introduction. “Amy Fielding.” She reached for the rest of the books on her desktop and stuffed them haphazardly in with the others. “What can I do for you?” 

The sound of the clasp snapping shut sounded loud in the now silent room. Amy placed her case on the floor beside her feet, she didn’t fancy making any more of a fool of herself than she already had by dropping the now fully loaded case.

“You called my sister earlier today. Because she can’t make it today, she’s asked me to swing by and see what the problem is, and whether I can help in any way.”

“Well, I’m not sure you can.” How did you describe a feeling, a concern? Careful never to show favouritism to any students, nevertheless, Amy was fond of Tammy and her normally outgoing personality. The girl always had time for others especially new students and those who lacked self-confidence. She had a way that soon had shy students participating fully in all the events both in and out of school.

“Try me.” Luke Hawk hitched a strong muscle thigh onto the corner of her desk, his smile zeroing in on her solar plexus like an exorcet missile. 

Amy leaned back against her desk and hitched her bottom onto the cool surface. 

“I first noticed something was bothering her about a week ago.”

“What happened” Luke leaned against the other end of the desk.

“Nothing tangible. You have to know Tammy to understand…” Amy’s voice faded with realisation her uncle would know the girl as well if not better than her teacher. “I mean…”

Luke leaned across the desk and with a smile rested his hand reassuringly on her arm. “Please, go on.”

“Well, as I was saying, it wasn’t something I could put into words. More a look in her eye when she didn’t know she was being watched. You have to understand she’s like a little mother to the other students who are not so outgoing as many of her other classmates. Tammy has the rare capacity of being liked by all her classmates without garnering jealousy.”

“Her mother was just the same.” Luke smiled at the memory. Megan had been like a tigress in defence of her cubs if she’d seen signs of bullying. “Go on.” He repeated.

The sound of a bucket clattering against the door startled them both. They looked up in time to see the cleaner’s face peering through the glass panel in the door.

“Let’s get out of here.” Amy shifted off the desk and picked up her bag from the open drawer.

 

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Tuesday's Tales ~ Free

Welcome to Tuesday's Tales

 

This week's prompt word is free, and so I have picked a new scene in my wip Born Again.

 

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It seemed to be a happy town. They had some kind of festivities going on in the park today that spilled over into the streets, with stalls, their gaily coloured awnings blowing in the breeze. Children ran up and down, carefree in the no-car zone street, which yesterday had been packed with vehicles. Adults strolled along some alone, others, couples holding hands. Behind the scenes Amanda assumed there’d be stress, but looking out of her bedroom window everything looked like one big celebration.

The weather, too, was offering support with the sun climbing in the sky, and pretty little white clouds floating past, some more speedily than others. Music, all jumbled up, blared from the fairground set up on the edge of the park, which was enjoying a busy trade. A group of three adults passed beneath her window and she watched them head for the park. Due to the number of friends who stopped their progress she didn’t think they’d make it anytime soon. It warmed her heart to see the man, taller than his grey-haired companions, sling a careless arm round the woman’s shoulders, while with the other, he cuffed the other man on the arm and they all laughed.

A pang of loss shot straight o her heart. This time last year she and her grandmother used to go everywhere together. Now she was on her own. The woman left a gaping hole in her heart and she still didn’t know what to do to fill it. She shrugged it away. No point feeling sorrow for herself on this gorgeous morning. Better, by far, to go out there and join the crowds.

It didn’t matter that she’d originally intended simply to stay the one night and move on, as she had since selling her grandmother’s house. Perhaps her friends were right and she’d made decisions to soon after the funeral, but Amanda needed to find herself. To discover her true self. So she’d cut ties with her past and been moving ever since.

 

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Tuesday's tales - Lemon

Welcome to Tuesday's Tales
This week I'm returning to my WIP Born Again. Amanda has returned to her bed & breakfast accommodation after rushing away from the fairground...  

 

The scent of lemon furniture polish assailed her the moment she opened the bedroom door, ousting recent events at the fair ground allowing loss and guilt to fill the vacuum.   How come she hadn’t noticed the scent when she was first shown into the room earlier in the day?

The night she’d learned of her origins. The night that weird happenings in her late grandfather’s room sent her scuttling back to her grandmother.

The night her life changed forever.

She pushed the door closed behind her, looked round the bed and breakfast accommodation and wondered whether she should cancel her second night’s booking and leave first thing in the morning.

What was she doing here anyway? It was just another destination in her self-imposed ‘time-out’ to try and find herself. But that would never happen while she aimlessly wandered from one end of the country to the other.

Running.

Where had that thought come from, and was it true? Was she running from her past, too afraid to face a future without the solid foundations she’d grown up with?

They hadn’t gone anywhere, had they?

Yes!  They had. However much she tried to hang onto the love lavished on her all her life, the lies, like a smoke screen, kept blurring the reality.

Shock kept her where she stood, her back to the door, the queen sized bed in front of her, and moonlight drifting in through the window to her left.

Was she running? She thought, if anything, she was working up the courage to start a search for her true family. But… There was that hateful three-letter word again. The one that knocked the props out from beneath all her good intentions.

Should she try?  Was it fair to the people to dredge up the past again? They probably moved on and not want to revisit the era of what surely must be their greatest pain.

But… The not knowing. If it was her, she knew the not knowing would eventually destroy her. If not physically…

On legs threatening to give way she staggered to the bed and dropped down.

A blast of music from the fair ground filtered through her window.

Something about the two men bothered her. If she stayed and tried to find out—what? What was is about them that stirred her psyche? Within all the metal confusion buzzing around in her brain, the one certainty that she’d never set eyes on either of them before remained steadfast. So why did they refuse to budge out of her head?

She looked at her travelling clock on the bedside table. Ten-thirty. Not dark, but dark enough for the moon to spread her light around the room.

The knock when it came didn’t surprise her.

 

 

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