Val Muller

The Electronic Wordsmith

Welcome to the Spot Writers. This week we’re continuing the story begun by Val Muller a few weeks ago. Where we left off, Remy was hoping to sneak a conversation with her new neighbor, Jeremy, when a blonde woman named Barbara showed up at Jeremy’s asking about… a wedding!

Our serial story doesn’t have a title yet… start thinking about some ideas because it smells like a contest might be coming up soon!

 This week’s story is by Val Muller, author of FOR WHOM MY HEART BEATS ETERNAL, a sci-fi romance, and CORGI CAPERS: DECEIT ON DORSET DRIVE, a mystery novel for young readers. Book Two will be released this October. 

 The Spot Writers Blogs appear at the end of this story. Don’t forget to check them out. Check out our blogs at the end of this story.

What about the wedding? Remy fumed. Here she had been having dreams all night about Jeremy, and all of a sudden this blonde shows up asking about a wedding? And hadn’t Jeremy walked her home the night before? Hadn’t he been sending her signals that he was interested? And here he was, engaged to Miss Blonde. Remy turned around to go inside and finish getting ready for work. She always fell for the wrong guys. Always.

“Remy,” Jeremy said.

Remy turned around briefly.

The blonde scowled. “You mean you know her?” she asked.

“Barbara, not now,” Jeremy said. “Remy, wait!”

But Remy wouldn’t have it. She turned and closed the door behind her—hard—and engaged the lock. She wanted nothing to do with her new neighbor or his fiancée. She stormed into the bathroom to finish her makeup. Why bother? she wondered as she applied her eyeliner. Not like there’s anyone I need to impress. Not anymore.

But she couldn’t help herself. Before she realized it, she was sneaking through her own living room and creeping over to the door. She peered out the peephole, but all she saw was a mop of blonde hair.

Barbara, she thought. My new least favorite word in the English language. Remy sighed and pressed her ear to the door.

“I was thinking lavender for the color of the bridesmaids’ gowns,” Barbara was saying. “Or maybe periwinkle. It matches these earrings my grandmother gave me.” She giggled. “And I could have a bouquet of blue flowers. You know the saying. Something old, something new, something borrowed, something–”

“Barbara, we broke up, remember?”

Barbara giggled as if Jeremy had made a joke. “Not after all the great times we had,” she said. “I even drove to my parents’ house to get my great-grandfather’s heirloom belt buckle. I brought it to the leather shop. They’re going to put a new leather strap on it for you. I was going to give you the belt as a gift on our wedding night. It’s a family heirloom. And then you can pass it on to our own grandkids  some day.”

“Grandkids?” Jeremy asked. “Look, Barbara, you’re a nice girl, but…”

“And look what else I did,” Barbara said.

Remy brought her eye to the keyhole again. The blonde mop of hair had moved closer to Jeremy, allowing Remy a better view of the situation. Barbara was reaching into her purse. She took out a small picture frame. “It’s our special napkin,” she explained.

“Napkin?” Jeremy asked. “Look, Barb. I got to get to work.”

Barbara looked at her watch. “You have plenty of time,” she said. “You haven’t been pulling into the parking lot at your job until 8:40. That means you have at least fifteen minutes before you have to leave.”

“How do you know what time I pull into my parking lot at work?” Jeremy asked.

Barbara didn’t answer. “See,” she said, pointing to the picture frame. “It’s our special napkin. You drew a heart on it during our first date. Then you kissed it and gave it to me.” She pointed again. “There’s the little barbeque stain from your cute little lips. Remember, you got the barbeque-cheddar club, and you ordered broccoli instead of fries, and you asked for the bacon on your sandwich to be extra crispy and…”

Remy watched the expression on Jeremy’s face turn to horror. Maybe he wasn’t into Barbara after all. Remy resolved to leave for work, interrupting their conversation and saving Jeremy from the awkward discussion. She went back to the kitchen for her bag. When she returned to the door, she had her hand on the door, all ready to turn the knob and save her cute neighbor from this psycho. But she listened for just another moment.

“…and that’s why we just need time apart,” Jeremy was saying. “I don’t think we’re healthy for each other. And we never really talked about a wedding,” he added.

“We mentioned it,” Barbara corrected. “And I know it might have just been pillow talk, but the thing is…”

Remy smiled, firming her grasp on the handle, ready to become the hero.

“The thing is,” Barbara continued, “we have to get married. There’s not an option anymore. I’m pregnant.”

Remy fought a wave of nausea. She let go of the door knob as if it were molten metal that seared her flesh. Her face flushed and the world around her spun. She stumbled to the back door, exited through the sliding glass door, and snuck around the back of the building, taking the long way to the parking lot. How could she have dreams about Jeremy all night, how could she set her heart on him, when he was obviously not free to be hers? Why did she always choose no-win situations for herself?

She got into her car, trying to focus on driving. Get him out of your mind, she told herself. But it was no use. Even with her world falling apart, Jeremy’s smiling face lingered in the back of her mind like the last beam of sunlight before a dark winter night.

 

The Spot Writers- our members:

Catherine A. MacKenzie

http://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/

Jessica Degarmo

http://www.jessicadegarmo.com/

 RC Bonitz

http://www.rcbonitz.com

 Val Muller

https://valmuller.com/blog/

 

Stephen King’s On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft

I had read this book—or at least parts of it—years ago, but I thought I’d re-read it from the perspective of a much more serious author than the kid who dreamed of one day being Stephen King. I learned a lot from reading this book—including the fact that Stephen King and I have a lot more in common than I thought.

In the book, King mingles memories with tips on writing, focusing more heavily on writing advice in the second half of the book. He does this in an engaging way—it never “felt” like I was reading a book on writing. Rather, the page flew by as if I were having a casual conversation at lunch with a good friend.

King leads the reader through his life, explaining how The Tommyknockers, for example, is a metaphor for his own drug and alcohol abuse, and the effect it had on his mind, body, and soul. He walks through many of his novels, explaining his inspirations and thoughts about each book.

The lessons in writing are interspersed throughout as parts of King’s own revelations, such as his experience with an editor who taught him what makes interesting writing and what should be deleted during a rewrite. Among the most quoted advice King discusses is probably the advice to “write with the door closed, rewrite with the door open,” pushing writers to consider that once published, the story “belongs to anyone who wants to read it or criticize it.”

As a writer, I enjoyed learning about King’s struggles, many similar to my own experiences:

  • his growling pile of rejection letters being tacked to the wall reminded me of my growing folders (virtual and physical) of rejections;
  • King’s endeavors into small self-publishing for a local readership remind me of my own endeavors as a kid and teenager, publishing zines with my friends via Staples’ self-service center;
  • I even contributed to a subversive mock-publication in high school just as King published The Village Vomit with “fictional tidbits about [his high school’s] faculty, using teacher nicknames the student body would immediately recognize.” Unlike King, I never got caught!

See, King and I share so many experiences, I am bound to follow his successful career! But wait, there’s more:

  • I learned that King’s daughter Naomi used to tear the wallpaper off the wall above her crib. This is of interest to me because my soon-to-be-released novel features a troubled man who was discovered to have torn off the wallpaper above his crib as a boy. It was pure coincidence!
  • King was also at school (yes, he was a high-school English teacher, too!) when he learned about his first book sale. He received the message during his planning period—just like me!
  • King sometimes has his wife read his manuscripts while he is driving on long-distance trips. I do the same thing, asking my husband to read while I drive. And King relishes in the times when his wife laughs at all the right moments. When my husband laughs at the right places, it makes my day as well, and despite the fact that I’m driving, I have to glance over to see where he is in the chapter.
Now there’s other stuff we don’t share, of course. I have never had to deal with drug or alcohol addiction, but then again, I’m also not a bestseller… he also includes a short section on his near-death experience after being hit by a car (an inspiration for Misery). Luckily, this has not happened to me. Knock on wood!
.

This book is a must-read for all authors. The advice is humorous and helpful (beware of language, though. In typical King fashion, he drops the F-bomb and then some). He doesn’t just limit his advice to the craft of writing, but also to lifestyle habits (watch less TV and read more!) and other considerations for aspiring writers. In the end, King reminds us about the reason for writing: “Writing isn’t about making money, getting famous, getting dates, getting laid, or making friends. In the end, it’s about enriching the lives of those who will read your work, and enriching your own life, as well.”

Oh, and the title for this blog entry? Don’t worry, I’m not delusional. I had my tongue in my cheek when I wrote it.

But it can’t hurt to dream.

Welcome to my stop on the Celebrating Independence Blog Hop (http://thebloghopspot.com/event-page/)

I’m so thankful to live in a land of freedom. But when I think of the ultimate freedom, I realize that there’s something we’re all bound to: Time.

In my romance novella, For Whom My Heart Beats Eternal, the protagonists are forty years apart and left to wonder what might have happened if they had been born closer together… until Anna is sent back in time to the 1970s, when the love of her life is a burgeoning young graduate student almost the same age as her…

 

To learn more about the novella, check it out on Amazon or OmniLit.

 

The concept of time travel has always fascinated me. And then there’s the question: if we do travel in time, can we change the past/future, or would we have already traveled back and changed it? I love a good paradox to get me thinking!

 

What are your thoughts on time travel? Leave a comment to let me know, and if you’d like to win a copy of the novella, be sure to enter using the Rafflecopter entry form below:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

My husband has been wanting to visit Vegas for years, so finally, I caved. Now anyone who knows me well knows that I would normally stay far, far away from somewhere packed with people, bright lights, and alcohol… my ideal vacations involve nature—the beach or somewhere to hike. So here it is, my list of rants and raves about my trip to Las Vegas.

Rants
I’ll get the rants out of the way first because it’s always best to end on a positive note.

  1. Manipulation
    Along the strip and in the casinos, there is nowhere to sit down… that doesn’t cost money. There are plenty of seats at bars, at slot machines, at gaming tables. But if you aren’t paying for it, you can’t sit there. Being on one’s feet all day, one becomes tempted to sit down at a slot machine or a pricey restaurant just for the sake of sitting down.  It’s almost like it’s intentional… The other thing is, having spent some late nights in casinos, I’m pretty sure they pump oxygen into those rooms to keep people unnaturally awake. With the combination of that plus jet lag, I was sleep deprived almost the whole vacation.
  2. Rat Maze
    Navigating the casinos is like navigating a rat maze where the cheese is drugged and is placed every two inches. Trying to get from point A to point B is nearly impossible. None of the sidewalks or walkways or paths inside or outside the casinos are linear, meaning in order to try to find one’s way from Point A to Point B, one must navigate a maze of tempting casino games, restaurants, bars, and stores. I did not fall prey to such manipulation because of how angry I was just based on the sheer number of people surrounding me, but I saw many people who did. Trying to get around really brought out the New Yorker in me.
  3. Elevators
    I am claustrophobic and afraid of heights. I become extremely distrustful of anywhere where I cannot self-sufficiently and quickly exit or enter a building without navigating a series of elevators and waiting to be able to get out….i.e, all of Vegas. The worst offender in this instance was actually our tour of the Hoover Dam, where 80 people were crammed, cattle-style, into an elevator that took us down to the bowels of the power plant. Yikes!
  4. Gas Station Credit Card Payment
    I guess living where I do, I’ve been spoiled into believing that every gas station has a credit card reader at the pump. Or that the same price applies to the per-gallon cost of gas whether paying by cash or credit… or that people have a clue about how to park a car at a pump without taking up twelve lanes.
  5. People
    Walking the strip after 11 a.m. is like being a herded cow. It has all the crowds of New York City with none of the locals to show people how it’s done. Tourists walking while texting (even tourists with a beer in one hand and a phone in the other), tourists stopping mid-step to take pictures of man-made gaud, tourists not understanding that a red hand on a crosswalk means stop and a white person icon means go… Being surrounded by so many people just zaps my mental and creative energy and leaves me tired in a way sleep just can’t fix.
  6. Sin City (a.k.a. Bread and Circuses)
    As a teacher, I noticed that most of the establishments and the atmosphere in general encourage everything that is wrong with student behavior and attention today. Cell phone use is rampant, with entire families sitting around not talking to one another but all on individual cell phones, even kids I would think would be too young to text. Nude cards are handed out on street corners with people collecting them humorously and seedy peddlers pushing them in tourists’ faces. Walking around with mind-numbing liquor is accepted and encouraged, as is leaving your empty glass or bottle wherever you are when you happen to finish it. With flashing lights and constant ADD all around, people are encouraged to part with their money without even realizing it, and the whole place is designed to discourage any kind of critical thinking, with booze being offered to anyone willing to open their wallet to the casino and flashy lights and sounds constantly going off a la Harrison Bergeron to interrupt any kind of coherent thought one might have. If anyone ever wants to take over the world, one need not be evil and induce fear like Big Brother; one needs only to provide bread and circuses, and the people will willingly surrender their souls and their minds.
  7. jellyfish at the aquarium

    The Shark Reef at Mandalay Bay
    If you’ve been to any place that has a semi-decent aquarium, like San Diego, Baltimore, Virginia Beach, etc., don’t waste your $18 on this tiny display. If you’ve never seen an aquarium before, it might be worth your time/money.

 

 

 

 

Raves
Okay, it wasn’t all bad—but mostly because I had a rental car.

  1. Red Rock Canyon

    Finding inner peace.

    It was too hot to hike the whole canyon, but we did the scenic drive and took some beautiful photos. Most of the people taking photos were friendly and kind, and no one was drunk. Some of the rocks reminded me of Sedona, AZ, one of my favorite places to hike. Being out in nature and away from nutty drunks recharged my creative batteries. I could have stayed there all day, even in the heat.

  2. The Hoover Dam (sort of)
    Going on a brief tour of the Hoover Dam (sort of) restored my faith in humanity—albeit the humanity that existed during the Great Depression when the dam was constructed. The Hoover Dam represents everything that once made this country great, and that can make this country great once again. A problem was presented, and a solution was created using ingenuity and hard work—everything America was founded on. The project was engineered so that it has paid for itself (through a water-powered power plant) and continues to pay for its own maintenance. It was also completed ahead of schedule. Compare that to government waste and whining going on by most of today’s workers and Metro escalators that don’t work even weeks after their last repair, and it grounds you in what this country’s work ethic once was and should become again.
  3. Blue Man Group

    After The Blue Man Group show

    It’s mind candy, but it was time well spent. You can’t help but laugh at this show.

  4. The Phantom of the Opera
    The show only runs through September, and it was something my husband had never seen (I saw it on Broadway twice when I was younger). It was a good show–my husband really liked it. But compared to Broadway, it seemed like it lacked a soul. Like everything else in Vegas.
  5. Air conditioning
    The temperature each day was 105 degrees. Now it is a “dry heat,” as they say, and hiking in Arizona for the past few summers has made me acclimate to it (I prefer it to the humid but “cooler” temperatures of Virginia’s summers), but it was nice to have air conditioning everywhere.
  6. Goodsprings, Nevada
    My husband decided to go on a tour of the locations that exist in the game Fallout: New Vegas, which takes place in the general area (but in a post-nuclear landscape). Most of the places are just desert, though a few are renamed. (Buffalo Bill’s is “Bison Steve’s”in the game; The Pioneer Saloon is called “The Prospector Saloon”).I was sort of horrified in an amused way at how he was able to navigate the locations outside of Vegas solely with knowledge he gained from playing his video game. In one instance, we drove to Goodsprings, NV, to a tiny little bar (The Pioneer Saloon) and general store. He went in to take pictures while I stayed in the car, and he came running out, yelling, “There’s a character from the game inside, and he said I could take a picture with him!”
    .
    At this point, I thought the heat had gotten to him, but indeed it was true. There is an actual human being who inspired the character of Chet, a clerk at the Goodsprings store in the game Fallout. The actual human being, whose name is Noel, was quite friendly and knowledgeable about the game, saying that it has made his store famous, with people coming from as far as Japan just to see the landscape that inspired the game. When the game developers (who he described as “looking like teenagers doing a high-school project”) asked him for permission to use his store and likeness in the game, he had no idea what he was getting in to. The general store and saloon will celebrate its 100thanniversary next year, and my husband donated money to the plaque which will commemorate the occasion. His name will appear on the plaque in bronze, immortalizing his connection to the location.We then stopped at the bar next door, the oldest working bar in Nevada, to see the bullet holes where miner Joe Armstrong was shot years and years ago over a gambling brawl. The bar had an old feel, with old energy lingering around. It was a cool stop, and—I must admit—somewhere we would not have gone if it weren’t for my husband’s obsession with video games.
  7. It’s a Small World

    Meeting up with old friends!

    I found out just a week before going to Vegas that one of my best friends from high school would be there at the same time as me. We got to hang out during our vacation, so despite the craziness of Vegas, I enjoyed the reunion! Crazy that two people from along the East Coast find it easier to meet in Vegas!

  8. The Atomic Testing Museum with Area 51 Exhibit
    I enjoyed the prospect of a serious museum in the midst of all the glamour of Vegas. The museum has information and artifacts about the country’s atomic testing history. And again, the patrons were not obnoxious or drunk. Going to the museum was especially interesting after seeing the Enola Gay a week earlier in Dulles, Virginia. What made the trip extra special was on the elevator from our hotel to our car on the way to the museum, we met an older couple who both worked in the atomic industry (we didn’t ask for details!). They had all kinds of stories to tell and stayed with us for part of the tour, giving us all kinds of personal information about some of the exhibits. What interested me the most in the museum were some of the propaganda videos meant to allay people’s fears (during the 1950s and 1960s) about standing in the desert watching a nuclear explosion, as well as the paradox of having to build nukes to keep up with other nations (and therefore having to test them)but not wanting to use them. It just shows that there are no easy answers in life.
  9. The Zombie Apocalypse Store
    It’s a store to help you prepare for the zombie apocalypse. The store notes that zombies can be seen as a metaphor for whatever will one day cause a breakdown of society. But zombies!! Need I say more?The good news is, if zombies ever do decide to plague Vegas, they will probably starve to death for lack of brains to eat.
  10. The Gun Store
    This one is more for my husband. It’s a place where, with just a driver’s license, you can shoot basically whatever kind of gun you want. It’s a little pricey, which is why I didn’t shoot, but my husband really enjoyed shooting a 303 sniper rifle, an AR-15, and an M-4 automatic machine gun. Oh, and they have zombie targets.

    At The Gun Store

  11. People selling $1 Water on The Strip
    It’s easier to get casinos to give you dozens of dollars’ worth of booze than to find a water fountain. And bottles of water are pricey in the casinos. I wouldn’t mind paying $4 a bottle if it would only quench my thirst, but in the desert, more water is needed, and that’s money I would rather spend on anything else. So a big shout-out to those illegal water sellers sticking it to The Man and to regulation by selling water from coolers in seedy corners of The Strip for only a buck.
  12. Off-the-Beaten-Path Eats

    Someone jumping from the top of the Stratosphere!

    On the recommendation of our hotel, we checked out Bahama Breeze, an island-themed eatery that made me feel like I was in the Caribbean; Ellis Island Casino and Restaurant, which had decent food for decent prices, and the Stratosphere, which is all the way at the other end of the strip, so it wasn’t that crowded. It’s that famous tower that overlooks Vegas. We got to eat in the top of the tower, which rotates very slowly so that every 90 minutes or so, diners see a full 360 degrees around Vegas. We were even treated to SkyJumpers jumping (with safety brakes, of course) from the top of the tower!

Welcome to the Spot Writers. We’re making a change, starting today. We are continuing the story begun by Val Muller a couple of weeks ago. Remember Remy shooting pool in the Corner Pocket bar? And the guy who was eyeing her, who turned out to be her neighbor? Well, they’re back and will be for a while. They’re the stars of our new serial story, which doesn’t really have a title yet. Mmm, there’s a thought for a contest down the road a bit.

Today’s episode comes from RC Bonitz, author of A LITTLE BIT OF BLACKMAIL and A BLANKET FOR HER HEART, both available from Amazon or B & N. He’s looking forward to the release of A LITTLE BIT OF BABY, due in Sept.

 

Next week’s story will be by Val Muller, author of FOR WHOM MY HEART BEATS ETERNAL, a sci-fi romance, and CORGI CAPERS: DECEIT ON DORSET DRIVE, a mystery novel for young readers.

 

Check out our blogs at the end of this story. You’ll also be hearing from Jessica and Cathy in the next few weeks.

 

First Thing in the A.M.

 

Remy rolled over in bed and glanced at the clock. Darn it, time to get up. Her dreams had been wonderful all night, all about Mr. Handsome Jeremy from the Corner Pocket and Unit 1354. But, darn, she kept waking up every time things got really hot and sexy. What was that about?

She groaned and slid out of bed, stretched every muscle in her body, and headed for the bathroom. No time to dawdle over dreams right now, she needed a shower and then had to move her butt and get to work. Dr. Kendrick was a stickler for being on time and he wanted his nurse/receptionist in the office before he got there.

Images of Jeremy filled her head as she turned the shower on. He was so cute, with that tousled hair and all those muscles. And, who’d believe it- the man lived right across the tiny courtyard from her new condo. Spittin’ distance as her Grandpa used to say.

Hurrying, she finished her shower and dressed, then turned the dryer on her hair. A wonderful idea struck her. Her makeup still had to be done, but she could open her front door a little bit and maybe Jeremy would notice when he opened his. Well, maybe she’d open it completely. If she wanted him to notice she’d have to do it right. Right?

So silly. She hardly even knew the guy and here she was getting all ditsy about him.  A text would get his attention. But, a chat would be so much nicer, right? Right!

Her hair almost dry, she hurried to the door, removed the safety chain and released the lock. Okay, she could do this. Open the door halfway- he’d notice that if he went out before her. She turned the knob.

The door slammed back against her and a mop of blonde hair smacked her in the mouth!

“Oh, what, I’m sorry,” the blonde said, sounding a bit panicky. She looked up at Remy and frowned. “Oh damn, you’re not him.”

“I hope I’m not a him. What are you doing? Were you listening at my door?” Remy demanded.

The blonde straightened and glanced around the courtyard before examining Remy from head to toe. “No, of course not. I was…..looking for somebody.”

“Through my doorknob?” She checked just to be sure. The condo was old but she didn’t have one of those big old fashioned keyholes they always looked through in the movies did she? Nope.

“Never mind. I said I’m sorry.”

“Who were you looking for? Maybe I know them.”

“I…I…His name is…Oh, never mind.”

It was Remy’s turn to frown. Was this woman a thief? Would she have tried to pick the lock if Remy hadn’t opened the door when she did?

The door of 1354 opened and Jeremy appeared. His eyes met Remy’s and he brightened, only to wilt when he saw the blonde. “Morning.”

“Good morning,” Remy said, her heart stumbling in her chest. What was wrong with this picture? He knew the blonde? Without a doubt, judging by his reaction.

“Hi,” the blonde said and gave Jeremy a teeny little wave.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I want to talk to you. I—“

“We have nothing to talk about, Barbara.”

“What about the wedding?”

 

 

The Spot Writers- our members.

 

Catherine A. MacKenzie

http://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/

 

Jessica Degarmo

http://www.jessicadegarmo.com/

 

RC Bonitz

http://www.rcbonitz.com

 

Val Muller

https://valmuller.com/blog/

 

Glimmers begins when Paige tries on a pair of vintage boots and experiences a “glimmer” into the life of the boots’ former owner. As the story progresses, Paige experiences similar glimmers when she touches objects of sentimental value to others. When I first started reading, I thought the people whose stories she experienced were going to be random, helping her to live her own life better. For example, after the first glimmer, Paige uses her experiences to improve her cooking skills. But as the story progresses, I learned that the glimmers were not random—they interconnect in a way that brings richness to the text. I won’t give away any more because the fun for me was discovering how all the stories related.

I enjoyed the style of this book. First of all, it’s a clean read, so there isn’t anything inappropriate, and I could see a young adult reader enjoying it, too. It’s written in first-person point of view in a conversational way. I enjoyed this point of view, and each glimmer kept my interest.

My least favorite was the memory of England (I won’t give away details because it’s important to the plot). I felt like the difference in time period and location (compared to the other glimmers) should have made the narrator’s voice sound drastically different, but it didn’t feel that different to me. I also wanted just a bit more depth in experiencing this important memory.

Still, I greatly enjoyed how the storylines were woven together and how each of Paige’s experiences helped her improve upon or understand her own life in a more meaningful way. My favorite character was Paige’s mother, who brought humor to the novel and offered a bit of comic relief. In the end, all my questions were answered about the characters—even questions that I thought would go unanswered, which brought a nice sense of closure. It is definitely women’s lit (I’m trying to imagine my husband reading the book), and I wanted just a little bit more depth, but it was a pleasure to read. I can see fans of Jane Austen loving this book!

 

On the anniversary of the day Eric proposed, I thought I’d share this story:

On the first day of summer in 2004, Eric “Boot” Egger took the day off from work. After making Val breakfast in bed (which entailed getting up before Val—quite a task for Eric!!), he declared that we would be going for a walk at the College of William and Mary. Excited that he actually volunteered to go on a walk (instead of Val dragging him), Val gladly went along.

As they started down one of the paths on the beautiful campus, a blue dragonfly flew by. Eric said, “Look, a blue dragonfly. That is a good omen—this day is blessed.” Thinking it was video game speak (Eric is obsessed with Lord of the Rings), Val ignored the comment, though she thought it was quite a sentimental thing for someone like Eric to say.

Now, it is a well-known fact that Crim Dell Bridge, at the College of William and Mary, is cursed or blessed, depending on which way you look at it. The bridge is located on an obscure pathway on campus, and it is not a direct route from anywhere to anywhere. According to legend, if you cross the bridge by yourself, you will spend your days as a singleton. If you kiss someone on the bridge, you are bound to marry them—unless you throw them off the bridge, the only act that can break the “curse”. Val and Eric had never been on the bridge before, either alone or together.

Eric led the walk through various paths, meandering about. As the two made their way to an unknown path which led to the Crim Dell Bridge, Eric began getting more and more nervous. Val’s suspicions grew as Eric anxiously gulped the rest of the water in his bottle and dropped the bottle on the ground at the foot of the bridge.

“Eric! Don’t litter!” Val scolded, surprised that the “Green Republican” would leave a non-biodegradable piece of rubbish on the pristine ground.

“Nothing!” Eric erupted quickly, as if in response to an unasked question. He motioned for Val to stand on the bridge.

After a few calming breaths and a kiss on the bridge, Eric got down on his knee and very kindly proposed.

After all was said and done, the two walked across the bridge hand-in-hand. “Wow,” said Val. “I guess blue dragonflies are a good omen after all!”

As the two left the campus to go home, another blue dragonfly (the same one?) hovered in front of them for a moment before fluttering off into a summer breeze.

THE BEGINNING…

Welcome to another installment of Thursday’s Spot Writers Flash Fiction! Today’s piece comes to us from Jessica Degarmo.

I awaken slowly, exquisitely, alive from the soles of my bare feet to the top of my mussed head. My body hums with electricity, a spark that has started from my skin and moved inside me; it nestles into my heart and throbs there, speaking to me. I am awake. I am alive, perhaps for the first time ever.

I am lying in my bed, the same old bed I’ve always had, the same rumpled quilt tossed carelessly over my still form.  I look around me and everything is the same. The walls, covered with memories and dreams, envelop me, hide me, comfort me. Everything is the same, yet everything is different.

He touches me once; a light caress that feels like the kiss of a butterfly. This monarch’s kiss makes me tremble.  My arm, exposed to the cool evening air wafting in through my open window,  leaps into goose pimples.  He chuckles once and reaches out again to tease me.

His firm hand runs down my arm, so gently, so maddeningly I feel I might die from it. It is merely a touch, but it is everything.

He lays next to me and turns back the quilt, pausing to smile through the intensity smoldering on his face. His eyes soften when he sees me stare back at him. Slowly, so slowly the quilt reaches my knees, my ankles, my feet, the foot of the bed.  I am bare, spread before him in the twilight, but I know no shame.

There is nothing but want.

I need him.

I reach for him with tremulous fingertips. He shakes his head. My arm lowers and my eyes follow him. The heat from his gaze warms me, makes me burn, sets me on fire. And then his hands, his body find me.

When we join, it is more than a physical act. It is everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I’ve ever needed, more than I’d ever hoped for, more than I deserve. But it is all I know, all I feel as we love together.

My heart leaps in joy; I offer each heartbeat to him, gladly. His soul is my destiny. His love is my fate.

* * *

Next week, our Spot Writer is RC Bonitz!

The Spot Writers- our members. You can find our Thursday posts at any of the following blogs:

Catherine A. MacKenzie

http://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter

Jessica Degarmo

http://www.jessicadegarmo.com/

 RC Bonitz

http://www.rcbonitz.com

 Val Muller

https://valmuller.com/

 

 

This fast-paced novel is the first book in the Juniper Grove Chronicles. I enjoyed the premise of the story: a young woman has moved to a new town after the death of her family. She has always thought herself to be a bit strange, but that was nothing compared to the strange people she meets in her new home, Juniper Grove. The book started out quickly, which made the pages fly by, but I felt that Alayna accepted the strangeness of Juniper Grove just a little too readily, as well as the fact that she was madly in love with Jayden. I would have liked a little more chemistry before they decide they are madly in love (their feelings make sense later, though, after learning some of the back-story).

Still, the quick beginning meant getting to the meat of the story much faster. I was sitting in my hammock reading, and before I knew it, I had read 45% of the book! About a third of the way in, I was hooked: Jayden’s parents had arrived, providing back-story and making Jayden a three-dimensional character whose love for Alayna seemed justified; Alayna was already involved in a major conflict with a woman from Jayden’s home; and the mystery surrounding Alayna’s new powers was beginning to be revealed. I won’t give out too many spoilers, but if you enjoy paranormal elements, you will enjoy this story. The narrator’s voice made her easy to like and compelled me to read on to learn what happens to her.

Now the picky part. As a writer myself (and an English/creative writing teacher), I have a habit of picking apart style. In fact, I have been known to fuss at first-person point of view because often I don’t like the “voice” of the protagonist. But in this case, I liked Alayna’s personality, and I appreciated the story coming from her perspective—it was as if I were sitting and listening to a good friend tell me her story.

In fact there were just two elements of style that stuck out enough to be noticed in this book because both elements slowed down my reading. The first was under-use of contractions in dialogue. The characters often spoke without contractions, making their dialogue slow and stiff. It wasn’t a major issue, but it did slow down my reading just a bit. The second element was the narrator’s tendency to “over-explain,” sometimes providing lots of little details—such as describing how many towels Alayna used after getting out of the shower (too many insignificant details, in my opinion)—and other times providing too many explanations in the middle of dialogue. Many of the dialogue tags contained secondary action, but in my opinion, not all this action was necessary, and it slowed my reading. At times, I felt the dialogue should stand on its own without Alayna feeling like she must re-explain something to the reader that the reader already picked up on in Alayna’s conversations with others.

Still, the story and plot was strong enough to power me through these two stylistic elements. I enjoyed the story: it was suspenseful and compelling, and I felt like I really got to know the characters. I would recommend this book to fans of the paranormal—a fast and enjoyable read. It promises to be a compelling series, and I look forward to the second book.

I was given a copy of this novel in exchange for a book review. This review is my honest opinion.

Today’s fiction comes to us from Cathy MacKenzie, who this week delivers two poems. If you enjoy these poems, check out her TO LOVE A GRANDMOTHER poetry book (100 poems), available on Smashwords for only $1.99. You can also find three compilations of her short stories there, as well. Visit her website at the end of this posting for more information on this author. Let her know what you thought of her poems (good or bad, she’s open to critique).

 

Next week’s flash fiction will come from Jessica Degarmo, who grew up in Upstate New York and now lives with her husband, children and dog in rural Pennsylvania. When she is not writing, she is an insurance agent, the lead singer in a classic rock band, and an avid collector of gemstones. Her publishing credits include: HOW TO MEET A GUY AT THE SUPERMARKET (Night Publishing, November 2010); HOOKING UP (Night Publishing, May 2011); DECISIONS (Silver Publishing, July 2011); and THE STORM WITHIN (Night Publishing, September, 2011). Jessica’s contribution this week is an excerpt from HISTORICALLY YOURS, the second book in her Johns Creek Second Chances series. THE STORM WITHIN, the first in the series, is available now, and the second will be published later this year by Taylor Street Publishing.

 

***

 

A Blank Canvas

I gather my tools in front of me:

paints and canvases and brushes

to paint a portrait

from a photograph of a face

I know so well

and love even more,

I discover wrinkles

and crinkles

that I did not acknowledge before

for I did not see them,

and now,

like tears and unravelling stitches

upon a worn and dulled tapestry

they seem to mock me –

rich brown age spots loom

and cryptic creases and mysterious furrows

race off to nowhere,

and I don’t know where death ends

and where life began,

And I don’t know how to proceed

for I don’t know how to draw time

and paint passing years

that disappeared with barely a breath

before I knew they were gone.

(above poem published in “Still Point Arts Quarterly,” October 2011)

 

Following the Path

He grasps my cold limp hand and I follow

into the forest so green and deep.

The cerulean ceiling lunges down

and the trees form our walls,

our barrier from the world.

I’m swept within a hollow garden

where the moss swells around us,

sticky and sweet and sickly.

Is it a miracle or a mirage?

Perhaps it’s both; perhaps it’s neither.

His warmth delves into the depths of me,

tingling my nerves and caressing my bones.

The rush is like a speeding freight train

silent in the night, yet determined,

knowing its end, aware of its surroundings.

Lost in acres of wilderness

I scan the blazing landscape from afar

amid the hush of nature’s songs.

The world is mute and nothing but

the chorus of your breath chimes with mine.

Again in the distance is that train

lumbering down the tracks to somewhere,

its roaring refrain now haunting the night.

I see the dragon breath swaying

before disappearing into the stars.

Then life is silent once more. I’m at peace

in the dark where only angels dare to tread,

dreams and nightmares quashed forever.

There’s nothing, yet there’s everything –

everything but your breath mingling with mine.

***

The Spot Writers- our members. You can find our Thursday posts at any of the following blogs:

Catherine A. MacKenzie

http://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter

Jessica Degarmo

http://www.jessicadegarmo.com/

 RC Bonitz

http://www.rcbonitz.com

 Val Muller

https://valmuller.com/