Snippet Sunday 7/16-“Do you love me?”

Continuing on from 7/2 with my sweet historical romance, “Daisies from Duke.” This is still in Duke’s POV, Emma is about to wake up…This is also raw and unedited–any comments will be appreciated. I missed last week because I had trouble getting on the computer.

Mr. Stansbury face Duke with a wild gleam in his eye, making him feel even more protective of Emma. He wanted to get the sheriff, too, but he had no intention of leaving Emma alone with her “husband.”

“Emmy,” the man said, leaning closer and rubbing up against her like a tom cat on the prowl. “Wake up now.”

Duke edged toward them. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Why not? She’s my wife!”

Emma’s green eyes fluttered open. “Theo…what are you…”

“I’m alive! I’ve come to take you back to Denver so we can be together as husband and wife!”

“You’re drunk!” Emma said. “Just like you were on our honeymoon!”

Theo took her hand, but look like he had intentions of doing more than that. “Are you still mad about that, sweetheart? Do you love me?”

Before she could answer, Clara burst into the room with Dr. Aaron Huntsberger, and Duke’s best friend, Wes Galloway.

“Holy Moses, Duke!” Wes exclaimed. “Looks like you’ve got all kinds of trouble here.”

Snippet Sunday, 7/2, Duke’s POV

Continuing on from last week’s snippet from “Daisies from Duke”, my sweet historical romance set in Dannville, Colorado, in 1897. Last week, Emma fainted after her husband, Theo (I changed his name), who was supposed to have died in a mine explosion. This is the beginning of Chapter Two, from Duke’s POV. It’s pretty raw, so any comments are much appreciated. Happy 4th of July!

Duke watched Emma as she lay on the floor, beautiful green eyes closed. She intrigued him more and more, but he had no time to worry about that. A stranger stood in his restaurant who smelled like he’d bathed in a case of expensive whiskey. He claimed to be Emma’s husband, so he problems with being unmarried had only gotten more complicated.

The drunken man stared at her, and then knelt at her side. “What’s wrong, Emmy? Bet you thought I died in that mine, didn’t you? Well, I thought I was a goner, too, but I got nursed back to health. Now I’m here to take you back to Denver, and find out you’re engaged to someone else?” He gave a raspy, bitter-sounding laugh. “You’re mine, Emmy!”

“Who’s that, Uncle Duke?” He looked up at the sound of his niece, Clara’s, voice.

“This is Miss Richmond, the new schoolteacher,” Duke said.

The intoxicated man spoke. “Mrs. Stansbury. She’s my wife.”

Clara’s eyes widened as Duke spoke to her. “Go get Aunt Honey and Uncle Wes. If you can’t find Aunt Honey, get Uncle Wes to take you to Dr. Huntsberger’s. Miss Richmond needs a doctor. She fainted.”

.

Snippet Sunday 6/25-Back from the grave

I’m back and I see that after a bunch of other craziness, Lem (short for Lemon), my computer is giving me trouble trying to post this. I took a break for a while because of all the stuff. Not to say I won’t need to again, but for right now, I’m back. I’m posting from “Daisies from Duke”, my sweet historical WIP. (I finished “Independence Day,” only to learn that the publisher I was going to send it to is closing. So I’m not sure what I’m going to do with that one yet. Here’s a synopsis of “D from D” since I don’t remember where I stopped.
Emma Richmond is supposed to be the new school teacher in the town of Dannville, colorado, but after seeing an engagement announcement in the Dannville Citizen about herself and restaurant owner, Duke Madison, she’s afraid her career is over. She goes to the newspaper office to argue with the editor and meets Duke. Seeing her distress, Duke suggests she goes to his restaurant so they can figure out what to do now. This snippet takes place at Duke’s restaurant and it’s very raw…any comments would be appreciated.

Emma followed Duke into a red brick building with English Tudor style windows. The scent of cinnamon, apples and vanilla lingered in the air, suddenly making her hungry. Duke led her to a table, and disappeared, supposedly to get her a glass of blackberry lemonade. She had to admit that he was quite handsome, with his curly black hair and brown eyes that held a hint of laughter.
While he was gone, someone else came into the restaurant. As soon as Emma laid eyes on him, she felt a chill. The man was of medium height, stocky, and bald, though he had a black and grey beard and mustache.
“Hello, Emmy.”
The man who’d spoken was her husband. Apparently, Ted Stansbury, who should have been in the graveyard–was very much alive.
A moment later, she felt herself floating downward. Then–nothing.

Snippet Sunday-4/16-“Cilla’s surprise

Continuing on with the next chapter of “Independence Day” — back to Cilla’s POV. I did some editing to fix the line length–any feedback is much appreciated. I hope to be finished with the story soon and ready to submit it for an anthology…
The day before my birthday is a Saturday, and Ana greets me with a present and pancakes she made. The oddly-shaped pancakes are topped with syrup and red, white and blue sprinkles. She sings “Happy Birthday” before presenting me with a small box. I open it and find sparkling, dangling earrings made of red, white and blue beads.
“Ana—they’re beautiful! But it’s not my birthday ’til tomorrow.”
Ana smiles and her big, brown eyes sparkle. “I know. I couldn’t wait!”
I try them on and decide to wear them tomorrow. I’m looking forward to the festival, but I remind myself to be careful not only about the high heels, but with my heart.
I smile at Ana across the breakfast table. When the doorbell rings, she jumps up to answer it and shouts out, “Grandpa!”
“Dad? Oh, my God!” I rush through the hall and embrace him as tight as I can. Ana finds her way into the circle and we both hug her, too. “What are you doing here?”
“Can’t your old man come to Colorado and wish you a happy birthday?”

That’s it for this week…I think Ana’s dad is trying to make amends.

Snippet Sunday 4/9-More of Gregory

Continuing on with last week’s snippet from my WIP, “Independence Day.” Finally got the title–it’s Independence Day for a lot of people–that’s the heroine’s birthday, her dad declares his independence from being a wimp after ten years and here is more of his phone conversation with the hero’s mother…
It’s a little long, but this is the end of the chapter. I’ve got one more chapter and the epilogue to go before it’s finished and ready to submit for an anthology. Any feedback would be appreciated.

“How could Cilla break up your family?” I point out. “We’ve kept them apart for ten years.”
“Oren moved to Colorado right after they started dating. He dropped out of college to be a musician.”
She says “musician” like Oren is a criminal or something. I know he’s dyslexic and always had trouble in school. I try to be strong for a change. “Did you ever think he moved and dropped out of college because of you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Gregory! I always encouraged Oren, and your daughter ruined everything!”
“Cilla didn’t do anything except fall in love with your son. You tried to control him with your ‘encouragement’ like you did me…”
She ends the call before I can say more. I’m shaking. I can’t believe I sort of told her off. I drain the bottle of beer. The glass shatters as I throw it against the wall. Then I blast my music as loud as it will go, letting the Rolling Stones and the Animals help calm my anger. I wonder what in the hell I’m going to do now.

Snippet Sunday 4/2-Cilla’s dad’s POV

Still in Chapter Two but I’ve skipped some because I just wrote this and more (starting Ch 3) and would appreciate any feedback. It’s raw and has been edited to fit the line limit. It’s in Cilla’s dad’s POV and I hope it answers some questions…
“Good evening, Gregory.”
I knew Oren’s mom would call me. I take a beer from the fridge before confronting the Dragon Lady. Her cold tone indicates that she’s willing to take on anyone from Cinderella’s stepmother to Cruella DeVille to yours truly, Gregory M. Rayfield, king of loser dads and grandpas. Ten years ago, I’d made a deal with the devil, Lilah Matthews. I’d promised to help her keep Oren and Cilla apart in exchange for money for my daughter and granddaughter, as well as cash for the unpaid medical bills left after my wife passed away.
Except that Gregory M. Rayfield isn’t going to kowtow to Lilah Matthews anymore. This 4th of July, I plan to assert my independence. “Hello, Lilah.”
“Your daughter is back in Dannville, and she’s contacted my son. She’s the one who broke up my family, and I’ll be damned if I let her do that again.”

Snippet Sunday-3/26-Ch.2 Cilla’s POV

Back with this week’s snippet from “Yankee Doodle Darling” (still not sur about this title). This is the beginning of Chapter Two and I’m back to Cilla’s POV. Thia ia really raw, so any comments are greatly appreciated. I will try to get to everyone’s snippet tomorrow, but it’s a busy day so it will probably be later in the day.

I can’t believe Oren accused me of not getting in touch with me. He’d visited me in Boston ten years ago on the July 4th weekend. We’d celebrated my Independence Day birthday by creating some fireworks of our own. Thoase had led to my getting pregnant, and the birth of my beautiful Ana. I hadn’t told Oren about Ana because he had never contacted me. Of course, I’d had to leave messages with his mother. I’d never been her favorite person, so it was possible she hadn’t told him about the phone calls. But he should have gotten the letters. When I’d never heard from him again, I figured he’d moved on. He doesn’t know that I’d kept tabs on Dorp Dead, or that I had all of their CDs.
The phone rings as I’m setting out tonight’s dinner of grilled cheese and tomato soup. I wonder if it’s Oren.
“Hi, Grandpa!” Ana’s voice rings out. She tells him about our life in Dannville so far, and then hands the phone to me.
“Hi, honey.” At the sound of my father’s low, raspy voice, I picture him leaning back in his recliner watching a Boston Minutemen game on TV.

Snippet Sunday, 3/19-“I called somebody”

Continuing on with a snippet from my WIP, “Yankee Doodle Darling” (Changed the title and I’m still not sure about this one). I’m continuing on from last week when Oren confronted Cilla about not getting in touch with him for ten years. Any feedback is much appreciated–this is really raw. I wrote it when I wasn’t feeling too well.

Cilla takes another bite of her Danish, and a gulp of coffee. The guy who helped me with her when she fell answers his cell phone when it rings. Then he says “Uh, Cilla. I’ve gotta go.”
She smiles at him and and takes another swig of coffee. “Sure. Go.”
“Good luck on the new job. Call me if you need me.” He saunters out of the diner, and Cilla glares at me.
“I called somebody. I’m sure you didn’t give me the wrong number. I didn’t send e-mails because I didn’t have your e-mail address.”
At her smart-aleck comment, I see red. “Cilla, we were so much in love. Why didn’t you keep trying?”
“I did,” she insists. “I left messages with your mom and stepfather. Then I wrote letters to you here at your brother’s house. You didn’t answer. Look, I have to go to work or I’ll be late.” She takes a pen out of her small leather purse and scribbles her phone number on a napkin. “Call me.”

Snippet Sunday-3/12-More of Oren

More on Cilla and Oren’s story, “Yankee Doodle Sweetheart.” I’m taking up where I left off last week. Cilla fell on her way into Sach’s Dannville Diner. She was wearing high heels, and she’s a klutz. She’s rescued by Oren and a guy named Greg. I just wrote some of this today, so it’s very raw. Any feedback would be appreciated. I edited to adhere to the line limit.

Cilla’s staring at me and the other dude who helped me lift her up. I ask the same question Mr. Thinks-He’s-Oh-So-Cool had asked a moment ago. “Are you okay?”

She looks at me, and is a little more focused now. “I’m fine.” She asks a waitress for a cherry danish and a cup of coffee with sugar and heavy on the cream. “I have to go to work.”

Work? I haven’t seen or heard from her in ten years, and she wants to talk about her job? She explains that she had a job as a music therapist in Boston, but the school where she worked cut the budget, so she ended up in Dannville.

“Music therapy? That sounds like a job you’d love, although I don’t know if you still like music or not since you haven’t called me or written to me in ten years.” I sigh inwardly as the snarky comment escapes my lips.

Snippet Sunday-3/5-Oren’s POV

I am continuing with my WIP, “Yankee Doodle Sweetheart,” and I’ve skipped a couple of paragraphs. Now we’re in Oren, the hero’s, POV. It’s very raw and any feedback will be apppreciated.

The last person I expect to see in my sister’s diner on a Monday morning is Cilla Rayfield. We were so in love ten years ago. Sometimes it seemed like she was the only one who “got” me. She didn’t make fun of my dyslexia, and I smiled and indulged her when she wore high heels, even though she’s a klutz.

She’s wearing high heels today, too, gray ones. She walked into the diner, and she tripped, so now me and another guy are helping me to her feet.

I want to yell at her about wearing high heels, but I know better than to tell her what to do. I resist the urge to cuss at her for not getting in touch with me for ten years. After my visit to Boston ten years ago, I never heard from her again. With all today’s technology, SmartPhones and computers, I thought commnicating with me would be easy. Of course, Cilla doesn’t like technology. She says it’s moving too fast.