Here’s six from a fantasy/romance short story I’ve been working on for the last year or so.  Eleanor works in the castle kitchens and has caught handsome, arrogant Lord Ellerbee’s eye.

“Lord Ellerbee requests that you join him for a private dinner tomorrow night, so that he may fully make amends.”

“Aye, I bet that’s exactly what he has in mind,” Eleanor said as she started walking away from the squire.

“You can’t turn down his lordship,” he said, his eyes wide.

“I am a free woman, and I can do whatever I please.”

“Yes, but…but….”

“Fine, then tell his lordship I would rather spend time with my family than listen to his stories about how wonderful he is and his loaded compliments of my appearance, tell him there are plenty of other women working in his kitchens who would willingly wear his jewels and share his bed, and most importantly tell him he’s wasting his time.”

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Today’s six are from a short story I’m revamping, “The Road to Durrës.”  Mhll, an Albanian shopkeeper, has fallen in love with Grace, an American nurse.

She looked down at her hands, then back at him as she said,  “We were meant to be, Mhll.”

It took all his effort not to stare at her, not to take her in his arms and kiss her. Perhaps it was only because he hadn’t seen her in so long, only in his memory, but she seemed even more beautiful than before. More beautiful than the night when she’d said she would marry him, the night before she’d left without explanation, without even saying goodbye. “We were not meant to be, Grace. You showed that when you left.”

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This week’s six are from a short story I started writing after wandering through the Mississippi Delta (which is one of the most poverty-stricken parts of the country, partially because it’s so rural with no job opportunities).  This story is about two families affected by flooding.

“Ritchie,” Granddaddy said to me, “who created the world?”

“God did, Granddaddy.”

“And who floods it?”

“Well, my teacher said it ain’t nobody’s fault, just the snow melting up in Minnesota with no other place to go.”

“Your teacher’s an idjit,” he said, then paused, sucked on his teeth. “Mother Nature floods us in Cairo, cuz no matter if’n it be a woman on Earth or a woman in Heaven, she gonna do what she can to make her man look a fool!”

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Building off last week’s six, this is from a short story I’m working on, “The Secretary,” which starts with Jessica bumping into a handsome guy on her first day of work.  In this excerpt, she’s getting a tour of the office.

Cheryl and I turned a corner and nearly collided with several people clustered together, deep in conversation.

“Jessica, these are the brains of the company: Ms. Thierry, Mr. Edison, and–“

“Aaron Cramer,” said the third person, turning around and smiling at me. “I believe we met this morning.”

Holy crap; I was fantasizing about the CEO of my new job. This would not end well.

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To change it up a bit, this week’s six are from a short story/novella I’m working on, “The Secretary.”  On her first day at a new job, someone bumps into Jessica and the contents of her handbag spill all over the sidewalk.

“Is this yours?” asked a male voice.

I looked up into gray eyes set beneath perfectly tousled brown hair laced with streaks of gray. Despite being so much older than me, this man was quite possibly the most attractive male I had ever seen.

“Is this yours?” he repeated, smiling at me.

I looked at his hands and turned beet red, I’m sure, because he was holding the book I was reading, a trashy bodice-ripping romance novel. Why couldn’t I have grabbed Hemingway, Joyce, something that made me look smarter?

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Today’s six are from a short story I’m editing.  I wrote it last spring, let it marinate for awhile, and think I now have it figured out.

Their third evening together, sitting on the beach, Mhll had his arm around Grace when she said, “I wish I wasn’t leaving tomorrow.”

“You can’t leave.” He wrapped his arms more tightly around her, breathing in the smell of her hair. Maybe if he held her close enough, he could stop time, keep her here.

“Mhll, I’d love to stay here with you,” she said with a sigh, “but my trip here is just a vacation.”

“Marry me.”

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