WIP Histories:  The Inheritance was born on this page and is now published. Exposed, whose title was changed to The Bad Decision Legacy will be out in January 2016. The Love Talisman my most recent Tuesday Tales' endeavor is now out. I chose Faerie Lights for my WIP to force myself to write more on it and in a prompt fashion. Faerie Lights is a historical with a huge serving of magic, magical beings, and a girl's wishes so strong that they could not be contained,

EXCERPT

A snap of a tree branch signaled Meara wasn’t alone. Her breath caught in her lungs and swelling her belly. A tiny thrill at the possibility of being caught danced up her skin, leaving the hairs on her arms upright. Mother Superior strictly forbade the sisters from entering the woods. She called it going into the world and they’d renounced the world when they entered the convent walls. The rule was for the sisters, not her, an orphaned child who by chance was born within the walls.

A speckled fawn stepped into the sun dappled clearing allowing Meara’s breath to escape in a whoosh. A deer, a baby, which meant the mother wouldn’t be far behind. The doe stepped out from the brush giving the girl leaning against the tree a speculative glance before nibbling the mosses and delicate wildflowers. If she stayed still, the skittish forest inhabitants would ignore or possibly accept her. It meant a great deal if they accepted her in an offhand way.

Bird song accompanied the play and chuckle of the nearby creek. The area around the convent walls drew her. Here, she felt at home. It certainly felt more right than walking in straight lines with the sisters chanting somber words to an unseen male deity who demanded constant homage in the form of prayers six times a day. Her hand covered her mouth, hoping she hadn’t said such a thing aloud. Even thinking it was a sin, but speaking it would result in excommunication and some horrible punishment.

Sister Thomas reminded her, any time she’d made the mistake of complaining about the endless monotony of convent life that her mother died a painful death in childbirth due to her sins. A few sisters whispered bastard, changeling, dark whelp within her hearing. Perhaps, they needed to point out she was different as if she couldn’t have figured that out herself.

Outside the walls, she’d slip off her shoes to feel the cool spongy moss under her feet. It tickled, but more importantly, it caressed the sole of her feet. The lack of physical touch within the cloistered walls intensified her yearning for something to touch her, even if the contact was passive as she trod on it.

The tiniest shift of light motes moved through the air, forming, and reforming as if flying or tumbling. The grass beside her pushed down as if something had landed beside her. Although her eyes did not convey such information, she knew. The same as she knew her mother did not die from any great sin. Dozens of village women die in childbirth because Sister Gabriella told her when she found her crying in the garden shed.

A warmness crept over a body, a comforting peace that somehow came from the unseen presence beside her. To speak of it, would destroy it. Even Sister Gabriella, who was bolder than the other sisters because she took an angel’s name as opposed to a saint’s, wouldn’t understand. The lengthening shadows indicated the vanishing afternoon. Soon the bells would toll for the three o’clock service and her absence would be noticed.

She stood, brushing the leaves off her plain brown tunic before giving a head bob to the area where she’d been sitting. “Good day to you.” Even though no human words rode the air, she felt a response, one of respect and cheer. Her measured footsteps allowed her to move pass the wildlife without sending it fleeing. Once she cleared the woods, she grabbed the hem of her dress and ran.

The high convent walls kept out intruders, according to Sister Bartholomew. Of course, it made her wonder why the intruders would want in. A large locked gate was the only entrance and even then, the visitors came no deeper than the foyer where the Mother Superior greeted them. The temptations of the world did not overcome her, as it might a lesser sister.

A horseless carriage chugged, snorted, and belched black smoke as it made its shuddering way on the narrow road that lead to the convent. Meara forgot about her tardiness as she stood in the shadow of the trees and watched the vehicle lumber closer. The convent only possessed a dog cart and a mule for transport. Although those times were very few, which resulted in Amos, the mule, growing consistently fatter and more cantankerous.

The black vehicle had shiny sides, roof and a glass shield at the front. It would provide protection from the rain. Even more curious was the two individuals riding in it. They both possessed beards, which would make them men. Not counting the various saint statues scattered across the grounds, it was her first glimpse of an actual male. The beards were the only thing the saints and men had in common. As much as she wanted to see what happened next, she knew time was a priority.

Staying in the forest’s shadow, she sprinted for the bolt hole. The tiny opening came about from overzealous vines pulling the bricks apart in the gardens. A particular large blackberry bush hid the opening. Since her job included picking the berries, no one else had any reason to be near the hole. Would any of the sisters be tempted to squeeze through the hole for a look at the world they left behind.

They might not be as interested as she because they voluntarily left the world. A quick glance assured her no one observed her outside the walls as she wiggled though the tight break in the wall. Her tunic caught on a brick and tore. Oh no, she only had one. The tear would invite questions and accusations of carelessness. A moment of indecision had her half in the hole and half out.

​Sister Gabriella’s voice called, “Do hurry, Mother Superior is asking for you.”

Time for lunch since the paychecks were done, she turned in the direction of a much talked about café.  Ornate wrought iron table and chairs dotted the area around the restaurant entrance. Tubs of blooming flowers added to the appeal.  A couple of business men in suits sat at one of the tables, staring at their cell phones as they silently munched through lunch. At another table sat two young mothers dealing with young children as they chatted. Ellie stared at them for a second with the slightest pang.

Did she envy them because they had children? Her momentary tug could come from the fact she’d never experienced a leisurely meal with her mother. After the drop-off, her parents never came back. She and her brother were like dogs left at the kennel, except people come back for their pets.

The line was visible through the glass doors. Better to get in line than dwelling on the past. It would make the wait for lunch longer. The multi-colored chalk announced daily specials.  Rebel is Disguise had potential.  A casual glance revealed the packed interior of the small café. An elderly couple in front of her held hands. Sweet.  Her grandparents held hands and often kissed each other on the cheek. They always seemed content in each other’s company. Neither one of them ever made any mention of being unhappy about raising their grandchildren. They could have been traveling the world instead attending school conferences and helping with science fair projects.

The couple in front of her moved sideways to take their place in another line to wait for their food. The attendant nodded at her. Ellie stepped up to stainless steel counter. “Large ice tea, unsweetened, and Rebel in Disguise. “ She ran her debit card through but thought a joke might cheer up the weary employee. “Is the Rebel in Disguise anything like a Rebel Without a Cause?”

The woman looked at her blankly and handed her the receipt. References pertinent to this decade might help. Two sliding steps put her in the next line.  Ten minutes later, everyone seemed to be getting their food, except her. Even Eli. Wait a minute, the attendant meant Ellie. No Eli was claiming the sandwich and tea that she was sure was hers.
“I think that’s my lunch. Ellie?” She enunciated her name and got a nasty look from the employee for it. Geesh and she was the one who had her name mangled. Tray in hand, she maneuvered through the cramped seating area. One smallish table to her right.  A teen girl texting slid into the chair before she reached it. Nevermind, she didn’t want to sit inside anyhow. Too noisy.

Outside there was the slight hum of road traffic, but not too bad. There was four empty tables. She decided on the one farthest from everyone and was half hidden by the oversized tubs of petunias. Once seated, she placed her cell phone on the table and picked up er tea. As a singleton, as she sometimes referred to herself, she knew how to look busy.  A phone, newspaper, a computer were all signs that someone was busy. Not lonely, not alone, but working, not an object of pity, but someone taking a working lunch or possibly waiting for someone.

This apprehension about being alone she needed to get over. Nina usually ate lunch alone, in her office where no one could see her, although her business savvy friend would probably have no issues with eating in the mall food court. After all, she practically knew everyone who worked in the mall. Her confidence could have resulted from having parents who loved and adored her.

Ellie bit into her sandwich which was actually a Reuben made with turkey instead of corned beef. Not bad, but corned beef provided more of a balance for the sauerkraut. The turkey buckled under the more aggressive garnish. Could be she was the more like the turkey than the sauerkraut.

The fragrance of the flowers drifted on the breeze lifted her melancholy a little. Her grandparents loved her even though her brother and she showed up for a visit and stayed a lifetime. Well, in her case, eight years, until she went to college. An occasional postcard would arrive from her parents from some exotic locale. The postmark was usually weeks before. Her grandmother used the postcards as proof that her parents were thinking of her. The cards served more as taunts in her opinion. Look what we can do without two kids hanging on to us. People can’t tuck checks into postcards, either.

A couple sat down next to her. They both were dressed in business casual but were evidently taking a break from work.  The man opened the conversation.

“I’m so glad we finally have the chance to meet.”

Argh. A lunch date she would have to witness an awkward day meeting. She read about the popularity of these mid-day look sees due to limited time. At best, only an hour of the day was wasted, and you were already dressed for work.

“Me too.” The woman giggled and flipped back her hair.

​Save me.  Was I ever that stupid-acting? Probably not, she had been a serious child who grew into a somber adult, not that she wanted to be. Her goal was to work hard, graduate early, and ease the financial burden on her grandparents. A scholarship helped along with a work study job. Most of her life was work, then more work. When you got right down to it, most of the handful of relationships were work, at least for her.  

I've been gone, but I am back with more from The Love Talisman. Ellie is at work and is hurting from being stood up by her boyfriend, Justin.


The previous stuff had to have been a fluke, nothing more than a series of phrases she decided applied to her.  It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought the issue through before.

Instead of dropping Justin as Nina advised, she held onto him. Yeah, it was no secret he didn’t treat her well. They never went anywhere. Instead, they hung out at her place. Nina insisted that meant he was married. 

Nina didn’t know him like she did.  Justin didn’t have money because he lent it to his brother to start up a pet therapy business. He didn’t like going out because he had a difficult ex who would make a scene if she saw the two of them together. While it could be true, as opposed to bull manure that Nina insisted it was.

Termite’s crew was framing up a house on her first stop. The fresh scent of cut timber caused her to inhale deeply. Construction may not have been her first job choice, but she discovered she liked being part of the creation process. Certainly better than crunching numbers for a fast food chain, which was her first job. Always working with the smell of hot grease and fries put on the pounds. Okay, she may have sampled the wares. No chance of her gnawing on brick or masonry stone, although her stomach growled reminding her one slice of toast and a cup of coffee didn’t make a meal.
A spontaneous cheer went up from the crew as she climbed out of her car. A few whistled. Her simple outfit of a t-shirt and khakis didn’t merit any adulation. Paychecks always made people happy, except when they didn’t show. At least, they had faith she’d deliver them.

The sound of hammering stopped as the crew drifted around her anxious for their checks, but pretending not to be. A few teased her about hardly working. She laughed. It was an old joke that irritated her at first. After awhile, she accepted that those who did manual labor tended to regard those who stayed behind a desk as not working because they didn’t break a sweat. Sometimes she did, especially if the air conditioner broke.

An older carpenter with graying hair waited quietly. The other men called him grandpa affectionately. He probably wasn’t that old. Some people went gray sooner than others. All she knew is he did good work, didn’t miss days, and finished on time, all important things in the construction industry and he almost never talked. Smiled, nodded, and occasionally gestured, replied in single words or phrases. Today, his brow furrowed as if he were concerned. Maybe he doubted he’d get paid today. “Here ya go.” She had caught herself before she said, Grandpa, as she handed him his check.

“Ellie, do you feel okay? You look a little peaked?”

The man spoke, and he knew her name. She didn’t know which surprised her more. The men all stared at her and Grandpa, um, make that Marvin. She made out the paychecks and knew everyone’s actual name. The day he decides to string two words together it has to be on her less than gorgeous appearance. Yes, her hair was flat and her makeup non-existent. Did he want a paycheck or her wearing eyeliner?

“Um, I'm okay. Overslept. Missed breakfast. That’s all.” She could feel everyone’s eyes on her as she stumbled through her excuse. Why did she have to be so interesting all of the sudden?

“Well, ah, time’s wasting. Got to get back to work.” She clapped her hands together without thinking it was similar to Harry when he signaled the meeting was over and the crew needed to work.

Termite gave her a sharp look, then yelled. “Stop lollygagging, girls. Time to man up and work for a living.” The men grumbled a little and moved back to whatever they had been working on.

Ellie was tempted to explain she hadn’t meant to tell the men to go to work, she only meant herself. The way the day was going, she’d mess up her apology somehow. Besides calling the men girls as an insult did not endear the foreman to her. Despite the stereotype of construction workers harassing women, they were reasonably respectful. Most were married with families. Although there were a few single fathers on the crew, only Harry and she knew whose wages were garnished for child support.

​Off to the next site, where Leroy was the crew boss. He somehow got to be called by his given name, which might have something to with his massive build. The man wouldn’t make the mistake of calling the crew girls with Robby on the site. The tall woman did good work, and learned long ago not to put up with men’s crap. Maybe Robby could give her lessons.
 As she drove from site to site, the radio chose not to give her any more advice than not using her lawnmower because an ozone alert was in effect. It also mentioned a shoe sale going on. That message might have been for her, but nothing about love charms. Could be she imagined it all. Yeah, that was it. 

“Okay, radio spirits, or whatever you are. Tell me what I need?” The light turned green allowing her to shoot through it. Almost there, if Karma, Fate, or whatever possessed the radio could put some speed on. Static filled the speakers as the search progressed. A swell of big band music filled the car reminding her of all the old black and white movies she watched with her grandmother. The actors and actresses were always so elegantly dressed. Even the not so perfect men left merely with a door close or a regretful glance.  They never had to be a jerk about it.

A singer with a voice like a nightingale sang about someone to watch over her. A snort of disgust escaped her lips. “Really car radio. Is that the best you can do? I’ve never had anyone to watch over me, except for my grandparents.”

Her hand brushed against her cheek to wipe away any telltale moisture that might have somehow appeared. She always got emotional when it came to her parents. Never talked about them. Ever. She made the mistake of mentioning them once to Elle. Her best friend couldn’t understand parents who would drop off children at the grandparents and disappear for all practical purposes. No tragic story about an accident taking both parents at the same time. Some of the other students lived with grandparents because their parents were deployed, in rehab, or prison. Hers just left her and her brother with maternal grandparents. No lead up to it, no reasoning, just a promise to see them later. One they never made good on.

Stupid radio. She pulled into the parking lot and turned off the ignition. She took a couple of deep breaths to get herself together. Didn’t need parents who didn’t need her. Her grandmother assured her that her daughter and son-in-law were too immature to be parents. Of course, they must have realized this after she was ten and her brother eight. It wouldn’t help thinking about it. It never did. Ellie slammed the car door hoping she could close the subject of her abandonment just as easily.

Her boss stepped out of the door and tugged on his ballcap. Elle smiled at him. Harry was like a big, gruff bear. Make that a bearded, balding bear.  That’s what the ball cap was for. It allowed him to pretend there was more hair underneath beside the broad fringe at the rim of the cap.

“Hey there, short stuff, I was starting to worry about you.”
Short stuff again, didn’t anyone remember her name?  Her lips pulled up into a tired smile. “I had some problems this morning.”

He held up one hand. “Say no more. You’re here that’s all that matter. Termite has already called about paychecks for his crew.” The gurgle of the phone ringing through the door indicated someone else needed to comment on the lack of paychecks.

She pointed to the office. “I bet that’s Lightbulb calling.”

“Probably.” Harry agreed with a nod. “Thought I’d meet you at the door with the checks.” He held out a handful of envelopes to her. Her hand closed around them as she spoke.

“Are you sure they’re all there?” Typically, she didn’t question her boss. “Last time, Thor’s check was missing and it wasn’t pleasant. “ The Nordic giant they hired recently bore a striking resemblance to the actor who play Thor. The resemblance stopped there since their version had no personality. He hardly talked and answered more in grunts and with the occasional withering look.

Her boss laughed and slapped her on the shoulder. “No worries. I think he might be sweet on you. Go spread your payday magic. I know the men and Robby will be delighted to see you.”

Robby, the only female carpenter, somehow escaped her boss’ fondness for nicknames. All in all, short stuff wasn’t too bad considered one of the men he labeled ass dragger. The other employees just called his ass for short. Another unfavorable nickname was Turd for the plumber journeyman.  Short Stuff sounded better than better.

“Okay.” She waved the checks in her hand. “I’m out on delivery duty. I’ll be back before lunch.” She pivoted to leave wondering if the car radio would offer any more romantic tips.

“Take lunch out,” Harry yelled after her. “You look like deserve a treat.”

His words stopped her in her tracks. Harry never offered her any extra lunch time. He expected everyone to work as hard as he did, which was pretty doggone hard. Luckily with his old fashioned views he believed as a delicate female she shouldn’t work past four since she came in at seven. Normally, she didn’t, but a few times she worked long into the night.

Usually when it was tax season or she had to prepare for an audit. On those days, Harry apologized at least three to four times a day for her extended work day.

Back in the car, she started it and turned on her radio. Commerical played from everything from corn chips to freezing your fat surgery. Nothing sounded prophetic or related to her in any manner. The previous stuff had to be a fluke. 

We return to Ellie's story. We left her late for work, rushing out of her apartment and bemoaning her no-show boyfriend. We join her as she drives to work. The prompt is box.
​ 
The song ended with her belting out the chorus. The smooth voice of the DJ came on. “For those of you experiencing romantic problems today, this one is for you.” The music started soft but gradually became loud enough for Ellie to recognize the words. A terse ballad about taking an arrow straight to her heart. Instead of falling in love, this arrow just hurt.  Even her favorite radio station was against her.

“That’s it. You’re history.” Her fingers punched scan, which enabled the radio to find the next strongest signal.  Anything would better than the previous song. The scan stuttered over a couple of weak signals settling on a woman speaking. “Do you ever wonder why you have never met your soul mate?”

Ellie sighed. Again. The scan would move on in a couple of seconds if she didn’t touch it. “Yes, I do,” she decided to answer the radio box voice. Couldn’t talk it out with Mr. Bigg aware her property owner might overhear.
“It could be your choice of dating material.”

Wait a minute, shouldn’t the scan move on. “Nina, is that you? Are you playing the world’s most elaborate practical joke on me?”

Her right hand felt around the radio to see if any wires lead away from it. Her friend might be able to manage a feed into her radio system. Nothing. Although, it sounded exactly what Nina would say. Her principle complaint was she dated men who didn’t treat her well. Her response was that Nina didn’t date at all. That wasn’t entirely true, but it shut her friend up for a while.

The radio voice continued, “Do you long for a man to accept you as you are and not some knock-off copy of a celebrity?” Her eyes widened considering how radio voice knew that Justin always wanted to role-play with her assuming the role of a famous singer while he was the music, producer. The wig she always had to wear made her head itch.
Being herself would be nice for a change. Going out and having other people fix meals would be nice too. There was so much she wanted to do, but never mentioned it knowing that Justin would shoot down her ideas. It was easier not to suggest things and face rejection.

“Yes, I do radio voice. Any suggestions?”

The voice continued, the accent more pronounced than before. “What you need is a romance aid.”

Her eyebrows shot up at the word, romance. “Seriously. I’m sure that would be in four convenient payments of $19.95.”  The aid would consist of a minuscule vial of pheromone oil that smelt like sweaty gym socks.  Not sure, how that attracted anyone.

Static filled the air as the radio searched for another station. Now. The radio changes stations. The theme music of the old-timey gospel hour filled the car. Elle recognized it since her grandmother always listened to it.  A gravel-voiced minister spoke. “Believe. You have to believe. There is no power without belief.”
​
“Believe what?” Listen to her talk back to the radio, was she in a current day version of The Twilight Zone where everyday device offered advice. Worse yet, she not only talked back but was actually starting to consider the random words as directions for living. 

Update:
Hello All,

I'm back with The Love Talisman, a sweet romance.

Ellie has woken up late after drinking too much after her jerky boyfriend stood her up again.

Today's excerpt starts with her getting ready for work.




EXCERPT
​
Ellie almost had the door closed before Kelley called back.
​
“He’s not good enough for you.”

She closed the door without answering. Even her landlady felt the need to comment on her love life. Mr. Bigg plopped down by the kitchen entrance and meowed plaintively several times. A non-cat person would think he was merely hungry. She knew better. Got the coffee maker going before she finished listening to her feline dress down. “I know you don’t like him either, I’ll admit he’s not good with cats.”

Her cat gave a definite meow. The cat agreed. Of course, he did.  A juicy exhale of the pop-top of his cat food causes an impatient tail switch. In too much of a hurry to scrape the food out, she placed the can on the floor. Her fluffy Persian cast a disdainful look at the can before he picked at the food.
Ellie rolled her eyes. Mr. Bigg could outdo any diva, feline or human. He had definite preferences and Justin wasn’t one of them. “I know you don’t like him,” she responded as she pushed the bread into the toaster. “It isn’t so easy to meet men after a certain age. The majority of them are married or in a relationship by twenty-five. As for the rest,” she sighed before continuing, “it’s obvious why they aren’t.”

The image of Kelley listening while scrubbing her kitchen sink, which happened to be on the other side of the wall, stilled her explanation. Mr. Bigg stopped eating and looked up at the interruption.
Um yeah, she usually talked as he ate. It made her feel less lonely and apparently, he expected it. The coffee gurgled to a stop and the toast popped up. Breakfast of Champions or time-stressed accountants. Coffee in one hand and toast in the other she made her way to the bedroom.

As she dressed and munched her way through breakfast, she glanced at her rumpled bed. How much did Kelley hear? Memories of her previous apartment with the loud talker underneath her made her cringe a little as she stepped into her flats. Often, she wore heels or even platforms to compensate for her height. Not today didn’t have time. The clock, which hadn’t gone off for some reason, showed she was already ninety minutes behind schedule. She’d have to drive to each construction site to hand-deliver the checks before she could even start today’s work.  “Thanks, Justin, you A-hole.” Mr. Bigg strolled into the room adding his meow to her complaint.

Hello friends. I'm switching stories since Tonya and Will's story had been done for a while and I did get the final edits back. This is brand new sweet romance called The Love Talisman. It is a sequel to The Soul Mate Search. Today's prompt is Hardy.

Mr. Bigg’s hoarse meow served as an alarm clock reminding her she needed to get up and feed her pet. Ellie rolled over taking her pillow with her and covering her face. Her cat wouldn’t hesitate to bat her face to drive his point home. He had in the past. Besides, her head throbbed. It felt like tiny dancers were doing an early morning rendition of Riverdance inside her head.

Underneath the covering of her pillow, she took personal inventory. Her leg moved across the mattress. Alone, unless she counted one irritated cat. Head hurt, and her tongue felt like cotton. Both she contributed to the half dozen cosmopolitans she made herself last night. At least, she drank at home and not at some dubious bar making a fool of herself. Tried to interest in Nina in going out with her, but her friend seldom had time for socializing after taking the regional manager job. Sometimes it seemed like no one had time for her, especially Justin.

Technically, she referred to Justin as her boyfriend, but Nina tended to call him a series of names from selfish S.O. B. to the bad decision.  Well, at least, her friend wasn’t shy about sharing her opinion. Her bent finger rubbed a sore eye. No doubt, it would be both puffy and bloodshot. Liquor and self-pity never worked as  beauty enhancers.

Mr. Bigg head butted her pillow and raised the volume of his complaints. She should get up. No reason for her to stay in bed. It’s not as if the world ended just because her fellow called and announced he wouldn’t show. Never mind, the gourmet dinner she slaved over. Blame it on the cooking shows, which were her addiction. Recipes didn’t cost anything, even though the expensive ingredients often had her turning down the thermostat and taking two minutes showers to make budget.  Food didn’t break your heart, and it never left snarky messages on social media.

Last night, wasn’t the first time he'd stood her up. Her lips twisted as she tried to remember how many times she’d been disappointed in their relationship. Her fingers went up under the sheet as she counted. Three if you counted the work excuse. Once he claimed to be sick, that would be four.  When he stood her up the first time, she made the mistake of telling Nina.

Her best friend ranted so long and hard you’d think she was the one stood up. Her constant refrain to dump him grated on Ellie’s nerves.  That sealed her decision not to mention that all wasn’t well. On the flip side, at least she had someone.

The pillow depressed flattening across her face as her kitty kneaded it in preparation for laying down. “Okay. You win.” She shoved the pillow aside and blinked in the bright light. Odd, did she leave the light on too? A half roll revealed open curtains. The morning light flooded the room. Her lips twisted to one side as she considered the meaning of this unexpected development.  What day was it?

Justin only came over on weeknights. Nina used this idiosyncrasy has proof he was married or involved with someone else. Didn’t make much sense to her because a wife would object any night that her man wasn’t home. Justin never stayed the night, but she put that down to commitment issues. Many men were like that or at least the ones she’d met.

 Finished payroll yesterday so checks would go out today, which meant it was Friday.  The revelation had her jackknifing into position.  Oh my God, work. Not only should I be at work, but today was payday, the absolute paramount work day.   She enjoyed passing out paychecks to the rugged construction workers who manned the various crews. It made her feel like a cross between Lady Bountiful and some benevolent goddess passing out favors to hardy musclebound men with bicep tattoos.

Unfortunately, the men didn’t recognize her as such. Most called her kid, little sister, or even peanut due to her height. It made her more of a mascot than an accounting goddess. Little sister or goddess, the men would still be peeved if they didn’t get their paychecks in a timely fashion. A sharp trio of knocks set her into motion.

“Great. Now what.” She half-hopped half ran to the front door trying not to trip over Mr. Bigg, who twined between her legs. He probably felt his needs came first since he started his wake-up call much earlier. Who could be knocking on her door? Well, she knew who it wasn’t.

Using the footstool, she kept by the door, she slid it in front of the door before she hopped onto it. Why locksmiths insisted on putting peepholes so high always baffled her.  A strapping six-foot man probably never peered out the door before swinging it open. Little old ladies, children, and those in the height-challenged department did, which meant the hole could be about five inches lower for easy access.

Kelley, her landlord, stood on the landing with her rubber glove clad hands perched on her hips.  Instead of knocking again, she spoke instead. “I know you’re behind the door. Open up.”

The apartment sold her on it spaciousness and low price. The contract didn’t specify that the landlord would not only keep the unit up to snuff but would use her tough love skills on the occupant too. Might as well open the door, it would be more like holding back a tornado otherwise. Reluctantly she swung the door open.

Kelley gave her the once over starting at the bottom of her Hello Kitty pajamas working her way up to her Medusa locks.  A comment on her child-like sleepwear she expected, but it wasn’t what she got.

“You look like shit. Should I assume you aren’t going to work? I could hear Mr. Bigg crying his heart out. For a second, I thought something happened to you.” One rubber gloved covered hand flattened on her chest demonstrating her dismay.

Ah, yes, an explanation of sorts might help. Well, I got stinking drunk because my date was a no show. I do have plenty of roasted lamb if you'd like some. She sucked in her lips holding in that excuse. Her mind lighted on the fact Kelley could hear Mr. Bigg meowing. What else did she hear?  Ellie squeezed her eyes shut not wanting to consider the various things she didn’t want her landlord to hear. Some things should stay private. “Rough time getting started.” She gripped the door harder realizing she was wasting time talking when she should be racing off to work.

Today is the last chance to catch a snippet of The Bad Decision Legacy. I'm also having issues with finding sections that I can actually put on the website since it is an open site. I even did some editing on this selection. :) Join me next week for a sweet romance, The Love Talisman.


We left off with Will cooking and Tonya working on her resume. I jumped a few pages and now they're headed off to bed after Will gets an annoying call from a client who wants to steal the family bulldog from her soon to be ex.


EXCERPT



“Coming to bed or not?” She glanced over her shoulder with what she considered a come-hither look with half-closed eyes and a knowing smile.

Will immediately followed her, but glanced at the phone in his hand. “What about Gloria and King Louis the 17th?”

Seriously, the man hesitated. Her sexy quotient took a hit, but she reassured herself that his attention to his job made him the sought after lawyer he was. “Don’t worry. Gloria’s all talk. She feeling sad and lonely. You’re the only person who has to listen to her late night ranting. The woman will throw back a shot or two of peppermint schnapps and head off to bed. No bulldog napping, no issue. Won’t even remember her crazy suggestion in the morning.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Might as well leave the phone in the living room, since I don’t plan on listening to it buzz all night.”

Tonya's lips tilted up at the comment as she hustled into the bedroom. She nudged the still sleeping Sebastian off the bed, which wasn’t easy because not only was he heavier than he looked, but he passively resisted, rather as if a burr caught on the bedspread. The canine eventually jumped off the bed, but not before giving her disdainful stare.

“Sorry boy, occasionally my wants trumps yours.” The puggle disregarded the apology settling on a pile of discarded clothing with a snort.

“Yeah, yeah, life is hard.” She opened and closed dresser drawers pushing clothes out of the way. Where did she put the scented votive?  Her fingers finally encounter a smooth, waxy squat cylinder. “Bingo.”

Another search ensued, which involved moving jewelry and toiletries before she located the matches. She dumped out her heart shaped crystal dish that held earrings and placed the votive inside. “Safety first.”

The candle had burned brightly before she recognized that Sebastian was the only male occupant. Did crazy Gloria call again? The sound of the shower running helped her locate Will. She should clean up too. Her fingers plucked at the oversized sleep shirt. The mirror revealed the collar of her shirt cutting into her neck only looked painful, and not the least bit sexy.

Not good, not good at all. A dab of the exotic perfume that Lynne bought her last Christmas would be the hottest thing she owned. Must get lingerie, she mentally added to her to-do list.

The shower continued, making her wonder what he included in his shower routine. “Not much time left,” she spoke to herself but got a baleful glance from her canine. Nothing to wear might as well go with nothing. Her fingers gripped the tail of her nightshirt and pulled it off. Too bad, Will wasn’t the one removing it. Under the covers, she debated if the skin approach took away Will’s opportunity to be the pursuer. Good point, men liked to think they were in charge. Her heart raced a little as she imagined the night ahead. A twist of the lamp knob left the room in darkness except for the tiny flickering votive. The small candle did not provide the romantic atmosphere she anticipated. If she closed her eyes, they might adapt, allowing better night vision.

The hall light would work. The shower stopped while giggling threatened as she waited under the sheets, anticipating the man and fingering herself. Wouldn’t hurt to get things started, but thinking about wet, naked Will caused her juices to flow on their own without any manual stimulation. A softly whistled tune rode the air as Will opened the door. The man didn’t tiptoe around trying to be quiet. Either he expected her to be awake or he planned to wake her up. Her eyelids closed and she attempted to slow her breathing to be more sleep like. Difficult, with both her mind and fingers exciting her. Oh yeah, she dropped her damp hand to the sheets.

The sound of his wet bare feet slightly sticking to the wood floor came closer as she tried to control her breathing. His shadow fell over her, demonstrating the hall light remained on. Good deal. She waited to see what he’d do next.

She moaned and thrashed her legs, moving the sheet down enough to show her breasts. Hint, hint, sexual Prince Charming, come do me.

Will’s long sexy laugh elongated her nipples, which were already tight. The man had skills.

His mellow baritone purred close to her ear. “Too bad, you’re already asleep. I had a bedtime dance for you.”

Her eyes popped open as she scooted up on the bed. “Bedtime dance?” Will handed her his iPod and stepped back as her eyes devoured him. He wore a towel knotted at the waist and oddly a tie. He didn’t have that on when he picked her up today. Her eyes moved slowly over him memorizing his features.

His hands rested on his hips as she ogled him. All lean muscle, defined biceps, pecs, and abs, her tongue moistened her lips. “Damn, you could be an advertisement for a gym. Bring in the women in droves. No exercising would get done.” She shook her head slowly thinking the women would chuck down good money just to gaze at him.

A wicked smile stretched across his face as he hooked his fingers together and pulled upward giving a gorgeous display of his lateral side muscles. “Push play, darling. I not only worked on house safety today, but I worked up something you might enjoy.”

“Oh, yes!” She bounced on the bed in excitement making the girls dance up and down earning her a wink for her efforts. Yeah, she could put on a show too. Her index finger tapped the IPod sending the rich voice of Marvin Gaye through the room singing about sexual healing. Instead of the bump and grind striptease, she expected.Will’s slow sensual moves mesmerized her.His eyes met hers as he loosened the tie knot slowing pulling one end of his tie across his chest. He leaned over her allowing the tie tip to tickle her breasts. Her fingers tightened around the material as he shimmied backward leaving her only with the tie.

Smooth move. Only a towel left before she could get her hands on him. She clapped her hands together and wolf whistled. “Take it off, sweet thing. Show me what you the good Lord gave you!”

He pivoted to the music turning his back to her as he opened the towel but kept it tight across his ass. He stopped, ramping up the tension before he threw a sly backward glance at her. “I thought you were a good church-going girl. Maybe I should stop.”

Marvin continued to croon about everything he was going to do while her mouth dropped open. Joking, he had to be teasing her. He couldn’t stop. She blinked. Had to be a joke. Her eyes devoured his back. God, the man was gorgeous all over. A red dragon tattoo stood out on his shoulder blade, snarling, warning and challenging her. It suited him. “Hell no, you aren’t stopping. I did say I wanted to work on changing my image. Start dancing and drop the towel.”

BLURB:
The world of dating can be both brutal and mysterious. Why do some people marry the first person they meet and live happily ever after? While the rest of us suffer failed relationships, unexpected divorces, and even the death of a spouse that pushes us back into singlehood. Being single can be especially challenging after forty. Most people could use some help, which inspired the book.

Dating after Forty-eight is a collection of well-read blogs that highlights workable dating strategies. Instead of dating being a trial, turn it into a fun adventure and possibly a happy ever after.

EXCERPT 2 ( This is from the blog on Profile Pics)

This is where most of the complaints come from when people bitterly complain about their online dates looking nothing like their profile pic. Everyone wants to look good on their profile but using a photo where you are twenty years younger or fifty pounds lighter isn’t fair to you or your date. You’ll end up attracting men or women who want the younger, lighter version of you. When you show up, they’re mad, which makes for a bad date.

People who might like the current you bypass your photo because they figure you wouldn’t like them because they happen to look their age. Different sites tell you different things you should do for a photo.

The first thing you need to do is take some current photos of you by yourself. Close-ups, full lengths, doing something active, and remember to smile.

Men Do’s & Don’ts

·         Use pictures of you only. A trio of your golf buddies could have your date imagining one of them as her date only to be disappointed when you show up.

·         Dress well. This is your first impression. No shirt unbuttoned to your navel, ratty shorts, or tiny swimsuit.

·         Don’t use a picture of yourself with another woman, even your daughter. A woman wants to imagine herself by your side.

·         Do ask a friend to take photos of you or go to a professional. The selfies or bathroom  mirror pictures show a lack of initiative.

·         Show candid photos of yourself doing something you love from playing with the dog to barbecuing.

 

Morgan K Wyatt has penned twenty novels. Her articles and stories also have appeared in several anthologies and magazines. Her most recent fiction publications include a sweet romance, The Inheritance, and an anthology, Sunkissed: Summer Effusions.  

Dating After Forty-eight marks her foray in non-fiction. The research for the book and blog resulted in her own happy ever after love story. Now, she and her husband are getting ready to launch cozy mystery series under the combined pen name, M.K. Scott.



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Paperback version is also available too.

Hadn’t even told you the whole story and now, you’re already ill.”

Made her sick? “You got it all wrong. It’s not you. I’m disgusted that there are women like Bella that men go all moon-eyed over. When they have hearts smaller and darker than any storybook villain does.”

His look shouted his disbelief. “Yeah. Do you want to hear the rest of the story?” The embrace loosened as he took a step back. “I think I’ll go back to cooking. It might make it easier.”

“Cooking’s good.”

The simple motion of turning on the stove happened in slow motion as if Will were underwater. Maybe her mind drew things out. She waited while he moved around the kitchen. Returning to her laptop might help the process.

After rinsing off the slotted spoon, he began to talk in a low voice that forced her to move closer to hear. “I blame Edward, the senior partner most. He told me this woman was a dear friend who was in an abusive marriage. I believed him, and she played the part so well. Telling me detailed accounts of horrific things her husband had done to her. The woman could have written screen plays.”

Tonya opened her computer and powered it on before turning to look in Will’s direction. “She wasn’t abused? How would you know?”

He shook his head slowly. “Didn’t know then. Swallowed her stories, felt outraged on her behalf, even cracked open the prenup agreement due to cruel and inhumane treatment. Of course, later I learned women in abusive relationships blame themselves and have no desire to talk about it. The only way you ever discover it is a trail of emergency room visits or a history of police calls.”

“So, you got her good settlement, how was that such a bad deal? That’s your job.”

“Oh, yeah.” He ripped open the spaghetti box with more force than necessary. “An amazing settlement, considering the lying, cheating whore not only played me but my boss too. It also established my reputation as the go-to divorce lawyer if you wanted to royally stick it to your ex.”

“Hmm,” she murmured the sound, aware on some level that saying too much would stop him from talking altogether.

“Bella was a real piece of work. She’d tell me gut-wrenching stories she’d pulled off some battered spouse website while in between tales, she’d call me her hero.”

Tonya’s nose crinkled as she made a gagging sound.

“I saw that. Now, the thought of how gullible I was, sickens me. She told me she had fallen in love with me. I was convinced I loved her too. In fact, she tried to seduce me. Asked me to drop by for an emergency visit, attired only in a sexy negligee. At the time, I excused it. Left in a hurry, not wanting to lose the job I so recently obtained.”

“Please,” she stretched out the word feeling her resentment at the absent woman flare up again. “Don’t tell me you didn’t suspect anything?”

The gurgle of the boiling water covered up his initial reply as he guided the spaghetti in the water. “I intentionally misunderstood. I wanted to believe she was a woman who deeply needed my help. Keep in mind; I didn’t go to college to help predatory females. I thought I would help people. Bella read me well and gave me what I wanted to believe while she was screwing my boss.”

Her fingers paused over the keyboard. “Did you know this?”

“Not at first.” The slotted spoon stirred the spaghetti as he dripped oil over the boiling water. “No, that didn’t come until after the divorce was finalized. Ethically, I was free to confess my feelings for the gorgeous Bella.”

“Apparently, she didn’t feel the same way,” she bit out the words as she pecked at the keyboard, misspelling simple words.

“Ha! Talk about an understatement. She laughed at me. Pointed out that she’d be stupid to get involved after obtaining such a generous alimony. Went on to tell me she had no interest in anyone as green as me. Too ignorant to recognize when being played. She preferred older, experienced men, like my boss.”

The idea of the harpy manipulating a younger, vulnerable version of Will made her snap her teeth together wishing she could somehow put the bite on Bella. “Yuck! Good riddance. I bet you didn’t take it that way, though. Wish Bella was here so I could give her some woman to woman advice.” Her fingers balled together in a fist that she brandished over her head.

Will’s expression shifted from melancholy to amusement at her actions. “Yeah, for a time, I think I would have liked to have seen someone give her what was coming to her. Now, I just look at the whole things as a lesson learned.”

“Do you?” Difficult to believe that the emotional trauma could be called a life lesson. An exhale escaped her lips, realizing the tremendous life experience she was smack in the middle of right now.

“Now, I do.” He managed a wistful smile. “Took a while. I think everything that hurts takes a while to recover from. Kinda hate people who tell ya time heals all wounds, but they do get more bearable the further time goes on.”

Steam rose from the bubbling pot as Will peered into the cabinets. “Don’t you have a colander?”

Her teeth came down on her lips. “Oh. I kept meaning to buy one. Last one I had was plastic. Melted it.”

His head came up abruptly hitting the edge of the open cabinet. “Ow!” His fingers probed his hair possibly searching for the bump. “I was going to ask you how you did that, but maybe I’m better off not knowing.”

The stench of melted plastic resurfaced if only in her mind. She’d turned her oven on to preheat forgetting she’d used it to store dirty dishes when her mother arrived unexpectedly one day. “Ah, yeah, you’re better off not knowing. No one will accuse me of being a domestic goddess, that’s for sure.”

In the act of lifting the hot pot from the stove, Will grunted his agreement.

“Hey, you didn’t have to agree!” Most men would politely defer from saying anything. What she regarded as politeness, may have just been disinterest.