Here’s my snippet from a short story I just started. It’s really, really raw:
“Those look fantastic,” Holly Blumenthal said, eyeing a plate of her sister’s chocolate chip bon bons.
“It was simple,” Ivy said. “I used a cake mix, baked the cake, made balls out of them, and dipped them in chocolate.”
Holly tasted one. “I’m in heaven.”
Holly looked at her sister, who looked like their mom, with long, wavy black hair, a petite frame, and luminous brown eyes. She took after their dad, tall and thin, with short brown hair that never curled, and blue-gray eyes. They shared an apartment, but were as different as could be. One thing they agreed upon—they both loved baseball, and the hometown team, the Cincinnati Red Wolves. They also loved their cousin, PI Elton Blumenthal, and the December holidays. They’d invited Elton and his girlfriend, Franci Jacobson. Elton had promised to bring some Red Wolves ball players to the party, but Holly knew they’d notice Ivy first.
I haven’t written a blog for awhile, besides the Sneak Peek Sundays and Snippet Sundays, as well as a Blog Hop. Tomorrow night at sundown, the Jewish New Year, 5714, Rosh Hashanah begins. I thought I would write about Rosh Hashanah memories, then and now. I have a new one for this morning, I’m typing this without my glasses. I can’t find them.
Most of my memories center around my childhood home in Roselawn, where my mom cooked great meals for the holidays. The synagogues we belonged to were close by. We always had new clothes for the holidays, and as a kid, this was quite a thrill for me. Sometimes, it was too hot to wear the tights and long-sleeved dresses, but I wore them anyway.
One Rosh Hashanah, my dad went up to do a Torah reading, and the power went out in the synagogue. Somehow, I thought my dad had magical powers, or an “in” with the man upstairs. In junior high, my parents joined another synagogue, and the Cincinnati Reds were in the World Series. At that time, there were day games and one was on Yom Kippur. When there was a break in services, guys went out to their cars to turn on their radios, and see what was happening in the game.
My first year of college, I went to services at UC’s Hillel House. I met a guy from Cleveland and started talking to him. I spent most of that fall trying to get his attention, only to find out the next year (after I met my future husband) that he was kind of a jerk who made fun of people (like my aforementioned future husband).
I remember my husband, Jon’s, and my first Rosh Hashanah together as a married couple, and going to the synagogue my parents went to and listening to the rabbi who married us conduct the service.
Fast forward to 2013…my dear Jon is gone (he passed away in 2001), and my parents are in Cedar Village (nursing home). I always took the holidays seriously, but even more so now. In November, 2011, I had knee surgery, and then got pneumonia while in the hospital. I almost died. In December, 2012, my friend, Greg, and I found my parents on the floor of their home, ill. They went to the hospital, and ended up in the nursing home.
I hope I have an “in” with the man upstairs. Thank You for all of the good things. If I have done anything to upset anyone in 5713, I apologize. I hope I can be a better person in 5714. La Shana Tovah!
What about you? Do you have any holiday memories?
Nikki is the winner of a $5 Amazon Gift Card from me in the Meet the Author/Interview a Character Blog Hop. Congratulations, Nikki, and thanks! The gift card is on its way.
And here’s my post for Sneak Peek Sunday, continuing my WIP, “Knowing Naomi.”
They got into Seth’s car, a beat-up beige Toyota Corolla that kept going and going. Naomi took in the empty soda cans and the wadded up papers in the front seat.
“That darn cat,” Seth muttered. “I took him to the vet the other day, and he trashed my car.”
Naomi smiled. Seth had always loved cats, even if they did things like trashing his car. She loved kitties, but had always been fascinated with box turtles. She’d had one named Clyde, but he was her parents’ pet now.
Here’s my snippet from my WIP, “Rain Delay Murder.” (sweet contemp. romantic comedy/mystery) Last week, Franci, the heroine, talked about how she met her boyfriend, PI Elton Blumenthal. Here’s the next part of the scene:
A low beep from Elton’s cell brought an end to our conversation and my memories. “Blumenthal here. Yes? Really? All right. I can be there in a few minutes.” He polished off the pie, looking like he wanted another piece. Note to self—buy him a whole Dutch apple pie. He leaned across the small, round café table and took my hand. “I have to go to the office. Valentine’s wife is there and she wants me to find the killer.”
Elton ran his agency out of the Quad X Law Firm Offices. That way he could share office equipment and staff, as well as rent on the space. I wasn’t sure how the four attorneys in the office had come up with that name, since none of their first or last names started with the letter X.
“Can I come?” I asked, hoping to impress him with my tough-girl exterior even though I’d looked a little green after seeing the dead Red Wolves player in my pantry last night.