Up Close by Henriette Gyland

I have mixed feelings about this one. I liked some of it and didn't like some of it, but at the same time, must give the author an extra point for uniqueness.

Quick summary: Lia's grandmother has passed away. She heads back to her England to settle the estate and it comes to light that someone may have murdered her grandmother. Was it her mother? Was it a stranger? In the background, there's an issue with bombs on military bases. Lia thinks she knows who is responsible. She meets a sexy artist and takes up diving, all the while dredging up the past and slowly uncovering a mystery, a little Jack Russell terrier at her side.

Because of this: 'A romantic suspense story in the tradition of Hitchcock which won the New Talent Award at the 2011 Festival of Romance.' I was expecting more suspense/thriller/fear than it contained. I'm a huge Hitchcock fan.

Strangers on a Train, it is not. Matter of fact, it doesn't get mysterious and suspenseful until about 20% into the novel. That is my number one complaint. I was really bored in the beginning as the heroine gets situated in her grandmother's house, learns to work a stove, chatters with nosy neighbors and old friends.  I found the book pretty long-winded at times, to be honest. You can skim and not miss much.


BUT onto the good stuff. When it does get into the mystery, it's a good one. This is hard to say with a mystery as I must be careful not to reveal too much... The ending. I saw one twist coming from the moment the heroine almost hit a man in the street... BUT I was convinced someone else had done the crimes and was still surprised. There was also a paternity issues I wasn't quite sure of, and I love to be kept guessing so I liked that too.

I found the heroine's attitude toward her grandmother's death to be a put off at first, but it was very well explained as I kept reading. There's lots of past bits, family anger, and discovering oneself. I especially liked how Lia makes some very deep reflections and life changes as the story unfolds.

I appreciate that the author brought PTSD into the story. It IS indeed a serious illness and more should and could be done for the soldiers experiencing it. I can't say I agree with the hero's fanaticism on the subject and intense hatred for the military though. I was put off by that as well, because I come from a very military-oriented family.

Three bikes. I was given a copy of this by the publisher in exchange for an honest review. I recommend it to anyone seeking a mystery at a slow pace full of family secrets.

Votes for Vixens Giveaway Winner!

Random org chose the winner and it's Linda Bass! Linda, an email was sent to you yesterday. I need you to reply this weekend, or I will have to choose another winner.

Thanks to all who entered!

Lone Star Joy by Kathleen Ball

Wow. First of all, what a story! Been a while since I've read a book with so many unique plot twists.


Joy... she's been in prison since she was 14, taking the rap to save her brother. She been shanked numerous times. Her very own father has sent people to kill her. She's never known love. The only love she's ever known has been for a family that wants her dead. Can you imagine the turmoil this woman goes through?

She's released on a special work program to help on a ranch, owned by Stamos. At first, Stamos wants to send her packing. He only has men on his ranch. But Joy, something about her touches him in the brief amount of time she's waylaid and in his care.

He can't bear to see her back in prison and he marries her to help her out, but he's falling for her and she's falling for him..but then his ex comes back and there's a child to consider and holy smokes, all this stuff happens. Joy is torn. The longer she stays, the worse she makes Stamos's life. He could lose his child because of her. His horses and cattle are being slaughtered as her father and brother try repeatedly to kill her. The only way out of this mess is to clear her name...but she's afraid to talk. Maybe going back to jail would be the best thing...

There's crazy waitress, the ex, the dad, the brother, some real friendly ranchhands, an evil lady intent on proving the marriage is a sham, a horse that steps in front of a bullet, a man falling in love with a woman who doesn't know how to love... and Joy: tough, hardened, and yet, melting inside.

Very strong woman. The crap she faces is unbelievable and yet she stands tall and proud to live and tell about it. I loved how this book showed us so many sides to her personality. The woman who must survive, the mother she longs to be, and how she experiences relationships outside of prison for the first time. I was very easily able to understand what she was feeling.

Quibbles: Stamos seemed bipolar at times. One second he's yelling at Joy in the barn, the next he's wanting to have sex with her. Joy had her moments, but she had a darn good reason for being the way she was. Stamos confused me at times. There were some tiny things I scratched my head over, like them getting married the very next morning (Pretty sure Texas has a three-day wait) but I figure they got a special case.

I must say though, Ms. Ball's ability to weave a tale and throw a reader for a loop (surprise us) is superb.

Four bikes. I bought this on Amazon.

Andrew P. Weston, Guardian Angels Interview

Today, I'm pleased to announce a special guest, Andrew P. Weston, author of Guardian Angels. He agreed to do an interview with Book Babe. *Due to a few miscommunications, the giveaway was removed from this post. However, it still exists. I'm just waiting for the code again. Those of you who entered are still entered. The rafflecopter is still running, even though it is not currently on Book Babe. Very confusing morning. Thank you.*

The beginning of the book takes readers to incidents all over the world. Islands, Alaska, New York. This makes me wonder how much you've traveled and where to? What's the most exotic place you've traveled to?

The most exotic place has to be the jungles of South America. I had to visit there a few times because of the specialist roles I fulfilled in one of my previous occupations. 

I found the place fascinating. I’ve always had an affinity to ‘nature’ and animals etc, and the more you understand about such environments and the things that naturally live there, well, the less they freak you out.

It’s amazing to be prowling along, and come across cobwebs as big as a house, with butterflies the size of dinner plates captured in them (Or birds!) ha ha. Or to hear the throaty growl of a panther that’s watching you – and giving you a lesson in what ‘true stealth’ is all about.

And the trees and the flowers! What an incredible variety.

Imagine you have one of the powers of your heroes. Which would you choose?

Teleportation! I think any emergency service worker (and those in the military) would find that power irresistible. The ability to go anywhere, at just a moment’s notice. Wow!

A bit of oneself always goes into a book. Which character has more of your traits?

Difficult! I put parts of myself into Adam, the Overlord. Andrew – his Shadow Lord, and Victoria, the Lord Inquisitor. There are also aspects of my personality in Lei Yeung & Luigi Espasito. 

I did this so I could easily identify with the reactions they would have under different circumstances.
I’ll leave it to you to try and guess which parts!

What was the hardest scene to write?

The prologue. This was my first attempt at writing, and I wanted to get the initial invitation/impact right! It sets the tone for the entire book. So, I’m pleased with how it eventually turned out.

How was the editing process for you? Was it a learning experience? Some actually like edits, the more comments, the more progress authors feel they make. Some pull their hair out. Which are you?

Well, I have no hair to pull out (ta-dah!) So, I enjoyed the editing process. I’m new, and I’ve been conditioned by a lifetime’s experience. So, when more experienced writers/editors offer their sound advice and criticism, well, only a fool would turn it down! I’m very fortunate. Pagan Writers Press is a very small, select and close-knit family. I’ve been helped tremendously. I’ve got some great ideas and concepts floating about in my head, and they are helping my skill level catch up to match!

What movie stars would you cast for a movie of this book?

The Overlord – Vin Diesel
Andrew – Karl Urban

Victoria – Angelina Jolie/Penelope cruz

Naomi Cruiz – Eliza Dushku

Lei Yeung – George Takei

Luigi Espasito – still thinking about that, Leonardo De Caprio?

Did you have a picture nearby for inspiration as you wrote this? Did you listen to a special soundtrack?

No – it was all a product of my warped and fragile mind.

What's in your writing future?

I have a series or two I’m planning to develop, News about them are on my site/blog.

But I think the most important thing is to keep doing my best to improve my craft. It returns the trust and ‘risk’ my publishers put in me – as a new boy – and it will ensure my work continues to grow, and bring enjoyment to those who read the books.

At the moment, I still think I’m ‘playing’. I won’t feel comfortable until I can throw everything else aside and concentrate all my efforts into writing full time. (With time out for the films and sequels of course) – see you on the red carpet! I’ll be wearing Giorgio Armani dahling!

Please tell us something about your own career in law enforcement. Did you put anything you have experienced or seen in the novel?

Oh yes.

I served in the military for nine years, followed by twenty-three years in the Police Service. During that time, I lost count of the incidents I had to deal with where someone’s life was changed forever by unexpected tragedy!

Life is a very fragile thing, and “out of the blue” such things can strike when people least expect it, bringing untold calamity and suffering.

Attending those incidents often used to make me think, “What would have happened if we had got here sooner? Or if we had the resources or training to undo all this suffering and damage? What would it be like to have the technology and training to not only anticipate such accidents and disasters, but prevent them happening in the first place?

That’s how the Guardian concept was born.

The one accident that inspired me to actually put my thoughts together into a more structured form involved the death of a young boy on his way home at the end of a school day.

Rush hour traffic is dangerous at the best of times. When you add in the factor of a little boy with little appreciation of the hazards involved, well…you can guess what happened.

The scene was horrendous, as were the terrible sobs of the woman driving the vehicle he ran out in front of. She was a mother herself, and her anguish was heart rending, even though there was nothing she could have done to avoid him.

That’s why the opening chapter of Guardian Angels involves a young boy stepping out into the path of a truck. It describes what ALL the Emergency Service personnel there that day wish could have happened, had someone like a Guardian Angel been there to help.

Thanks for the interview Tara. Great questions. I really enjoyed being here.

Andy.

Really enjoyed having you, Andy, and for those of you whose interest was no doubt piqued by his answers, here is more about the book:

In a series of terrifying events, otherworldly beings intervene to save innocent lives. The world community reacts with relief as they realize that angels may in fact exist, and they are diligently protecting us.

But there are those who would seek to stop what they feel is a threat against their livelihoods. How far will some go to battle the Guardians? Is the fairy tale over before it even begins?

Guardian Angels is a powerful and compelling story about the catalyst that has the power to unite society in the hope for a better future. The spark of hope is fragile—can it last?

Buy Link

Pagan Writers Press

Excerpt: (Unedited)

Luigi decided to toast himself and his accomplishments again. Finding his glass empty, he rang the bell for a top up, and continued to gloat, firmly believing he was beyond accountability.

When the door to the study opened a few minutes later and Gianni, the housekeeper, came in with his favorite Black Pearl Louis XIII cognac on a silver tray, he insisted the old servant stay with him and drink to his success. “Come, Gianni, stay, celebrate with me. Good times should be shared with trusted friends.”

The gesture wasn’t missed by Gianni. At fifty-five thousand dollars a bottle, the cognac was one of the most expensive in the world, and he quickly poured a generous helping into two glasses. As he handed one to his boss, he paused momentarily to savor the bouquet of the blended flowers, fruits, spices, and the deep amber color of the aromatic liquid. “You’re looking particularly pleased with yourself today, young Sir. Good news?”

“It’s the very best of news, Gianni, and one that appears to be maturing with age.” He replied without looking away from the screens.

The old housekeeper tossed down his drink in one and shuffled to stand deferentially behind his employer. He listened as yet more reports of the suffering caused by the missile detonations were announced. “That mess doesn’t look like there’s much to be happy about, Sir. Surely that doesn’t please you, does it?”

“Aah, Gianni, sometimes, when you need to make a point, you have to catch your enemy’s attention,” Luigi replied. “You have to ensure they not only respect you, but fear you. I’m pleased because I’ve done just that. Wouldn’t you agree, my old friend?”

When no reply was forthcoming, Luigi naturally assumed the old housekeeper must have been unable to hear his question. Turning in his seat, he felt a peculiar throbbing, tingling sensation in his teeth and sinuses. “I said ‘wouldn’t you agr . . . .’”

Luigi’s voice choked off in his throat as he caught sight of Gianni’s eyes. The distinctive, familiar, lazy old eyes of his long-time employee seemed to be undergoing some kind of metamorphosis. Gone was the semi-vacant, un-focused faraway look he always seemed to display as he pottered about. Instead, Luigi was looking into the hardest, most piercing eyes he had ever seen, eyes that seemed to glow with an inner furnace to match the cold look of rage chiseled onto his face.

The shock made him drop his glass onto the carpet, spilling about three thousand dollars worth of the deep amber nectar.

Transfixed he watched as Gianni’s body straightened, grew, and bulked out. As the years fell away from his face, he realized without a doubt that he was going to fully shoulder the burdens his choices had wrought.

Before him stood his own personal living nightmare made flesh, dressed from head to toe in black. Instantly he felt the fire rising within him, straining for release.

The Guardian stepped forward, making the barest of gestures with his finger as he did so, and Luigi found himself lifted into the air by some unseen force. He was held motionless, helpless as a puppet awaiting the commands of his master.

Nodding at the screens, the Guardian spoke. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Andrew, Guardian Lord of Shadow Operations. Did you seriously think you’d get away with something like this?”

Luigi stared defiantly back, fighting to overcome his shock at the Guardian’s presence, and surprised at the lack of access to his ability. “Do what you want, asshole, at least the world sees you as the frauds I knew you were!” he hissed.

“Do what I want? I’d love to, but unfortunately my boss won’t let me.”

Luigi stared impotently back at his nemesis as he strolled closer. Once he was standing in front of him, the Shadow Lord said, “As for exposing us as frauds? Well, I really don’t know why you would think that. We never said or intimated we could be everywhere at once. The world’s a sad enough place as it is without you adding to it. All we are doing is trying to help people avoid as much heartbreak as possible.”

Andrew pointed to the repeat bulletins on the screens. “So, once the world finds out that all this was the deliberate act of some sick and twisted psycho who didn’t care how many suffered, just so long as he could score some points, how do you think they’ll react to you, Luigi?”

The point struck home. Luigi struggled in an attempt to slap the Guardian across the face, to do something to help vent the building fury inside him.

Helpless, he continued stewing as the Guardian moved so close he was able to whisper in his ear. “And when they find out about your abilities, can you even begin to imagine how they’ll react to that? You worthless, spineless, pathetic little man. I really wish they’d let me play with you before we throw you to the wolves.”

“F*ck off, asshole, you don’t scare me.”

“Scare you?” Andrew smiled wickedly. “Oh no, Luigi, that’s not my job. That’s hers!”

The Guardian gestured behind Luigi at the same moment he let go with his telekinesis. Although Luigi only dropped about a foot, he crumpled to the floor, becoming acutely aware that the strange throbbing in his teeth was even more pronounced than before.

Turning, Luigi was met with a vision of such barely contained power and fury that he immediately soiled his pants.

Andrew squatted beside him. “Allow me to introduce you to the head of our investigations branch. This is Victoria, our Lord Inquisitor, and she’s very pleased to meet you after all the suffering you’ve caused.”

Victoria stood in front of the TV screens, wreathed in a visible static discharge that blew the circuits of all the electrical equipment in the office and made the hairs on Luigi’s arms and head stand on end. Her eyes, so similar to those of the Shadow Lord, intensified in luminosity and turned from grey to white hot. Luigi shielded his eyes and cowered on the floor in his own excrement.

What a fool I am. He thought.

In reply to his thoughts, the Shadow Lord said, “Yes Luigi, what a murderous, cowardly fool of a man you are. I think the whole world will agree when they find out, eh?”

About Andrew:

If you had the power to make a difference…would you?

Andrew P Weston was born in the city of Birmingham, UK and grew up in the towns of Bearwood and Edgbaston, eventually attending Holly Lodge Grammar School for Boy’s where he was School Captain and Head Boy.

He was an active sportsperson for the school, college and a variety of rugby, martial art, swimming and athletics teams throughout the city.

On graduation in 1977 he joined the Royal Marines fulfilling a number of roles both in the UK and abroad.

In 1985 he became a police officer with the Devon & Cornwall Constabulary, and served in a variety of uniformed and plain clothed departments until his retirement in 2008.

Over those years, he wrote and illustrated a selection of private books for his children regarding the life of a tiny kitten, called, “The Adventures of Willy Whiskers”, gained further qualifications in Law and Religious Studies, was an active member of Mensa and continued to be an active sportsperson, providing lessons free of charge to local communities.

An unfortunate accident received on duty meant Andrew had to retire early from the police force, but after moving to the sunny Greek island of Kos to speed up his recuperation, he was at last able to devote time to the “Guardian Concept” he had developed over his years in the military and police.

When not writing, Andrew enjoys Greek dancing and language lessons, being told what to do by his wife, Annette, and hunting shadows in the dark.

Strong is Sexy Heroine of the Week: Kelly O’Day

Book: Wytchfae Runes

Author: Flossie Benton Rogers

Heroine: Kelly O’Day

Kelly O’Day is the strong, sexy heroine of Wytchfae Runes, the first book in the paranormal romance series Wytchfae. Kelly defies orders for the sake of the Viking ghost Ingvar and plunges headlong into dark dimensions to rescue him when he is captured by sinister forces. To Ingvar, nothing is sexier than a strong woman who extends her heart.

Here is the hero’s first perception of her:

In his mind’s eye, Ingvar remembered her as she maneuvered within the eerie circle of green light. Small of stature, but strong looking, she had reminded Ingvar of a queen or a goddess. Golden hair haloed a memorable face with the slightest indication of dimples. A long time ago, he had rubbed his fingers over a stone engraving of the Goddess Freya. This woman had the same unfathomable look about her. Power bled off her like the northern lights.

And yet, at the same time, she had looked all woman. She had taken his measure. His body still prickled from the heat of her eyes on him.

Soon Kelly really starts to get under his skin:

She looked refreshed, as if she had been up early sipping the morning faery dew. He marveled to himself how this wench, no this woman, this remarkable Wytchfae was turning him poetic. Something about her eased the torment he had long endured.

Blurb:

A faery witch or Wytchfae, Kelly O’Day’s job is to transition ghosts to their afterlife. When she falls for sexy Viking ghost Ingvar Hrothson she breaks the rule against personal involvement.

Cursed over a thousand years ago to roam the earth as a restless spirit, Ingvar is hell bent on two things—save his sister and destroy the evil sorceress responsible for her death. He needs Kelly to help him go back in time. Hating all forms of dark power, he never dreamed he would be bewitched by a flesh and blood woman with magical powers.

Kelly and Ingvar battle sinister forces and multiple attempts on their lives. With their attraction approaching supernova, the couple must decide whether their romance of a lifetime is also worth fighting for.

Buy here

Are you an author with a strong heroine in your book? Want to see her featured? Find out how here.

From Reader, to Writer, to Author… Carolyn Wren Talks About The Diplomat's Daughter and Her Journey

Last week, I gave a friend the purchase link for my debut novel. She asked if it was for, “the whole lot.”

My first instinct was to laugh, then I realized in her mind it was a valid question.  She knew I had written a series of seven books, and sold the series to a publisher weeks ago and yet they are still not out?  What was taking so darn long?

It was then I knew I had made the transition from reader, to writer, to author. 

Three years ago, before I started writing, I lived in that world where books miraculously appeared.  Where authors created, people and stories. And publishing houses bought, printed and sold them. Now I know writing the book is the beginning of the journey, not the end.

When I sat down to write my first work I was clueless as to the process.  As a book-keeper for an international minerals company, my world revolved around numbers not words.  Until one day when I woke up with a scene so clear in my head it was imperative I write it down.  So I did, and within six months I had created a seven part Romantic Suspense series.  Had I taken writing courses? Read writing craft books? Researched the do’s and don’ts online? Nope.  I simply started writing and didn’t stop.

I had no thoughts of publishing, or fame and fortune.  Just the newly discovered joy of creating stories.  A year went past.  My seven books turned into eleven.  All sat on my desktop or in the hands of eager test readers.  What on earth did I do now?

A chance article in the newspaper, pointed me to a one day publishing seminar held at the local University.  This seemed like a good idea, so I went along.

That day goes down in my writing history, as one of the worst experiences ever.  This seminar should have been subtitled, “don’t even bother; you are all doomed to fail.”  Instead of an informative series of talks on the intricacies of the publishing world,  the eager, freshly minted writers in the audience were maligned, berated and even insulted for a full eight hours.

One lady, who raised the question of writing romance was cut down mid-sentence.  We are not here to discuss romance, she was told.  We are here to discuss legitimate writing.

Such worthy quotes still stay with me. “Without an agent your work will never even get looked at.” And. “Don’t even bother submitting your first manuscript.  No one will publish a debut author.”

The last comment made me curious.  How is one to relinquish the tag of debut author, if no house will publish your first book? I watched in anger and disbelief, as the moral in the room sunk lower and lower. At the end, we all filed out, defeated, heads bent, feet dragging.

To this day, I wonder how many authors went home and never wrote again, or even worse, deleted manuscripts sitting on laptops.  That thought makes me very sad, and very angry.

From a personal viewpoint I simply dismissed the day as a pointless waste of time and went back to my writing. A few months later I was reading a book by Nalini Singh and logged into her website to find out about other books in her series.  Whilst there, I read her post about the importance of finding a writing association, and about the valuable resources they offer. This lead to an online search, and the discovery of, Romance Writers of Australia. 

What a difference from the so called, ‘seminar’ of the previous year.  These wonderful people understood new writers, encouraged and chatted, praised and commiserated when needed.  And most importantly, did not say the word, ‘Romance’ in quiet guilty whispers. Now I started to learn what I was doing right, and what I was doing wrong.  And let me just say, that finding out what the term, ‘head hopping’ meant after writing eleven books, was a bit of a shocker! I remember looking at the thousands and thousands of words in my completed books folder and resigning myself to a lot of rewrites.

Only a few weeks after joining the, RWA I entered their annual competition for unpublished writers called, ‘The Emerald’.  To my complete and utter shock, I started to progress through the rounds.  I entered the international competition, ‘The Daphne Du Maurier' awards, and again the same thing happened.

At this point, I sat down and began to seriously contemplate my next step.  Could I actually do this? Could I be published one day? Was I brave enough to try? With the incredible love and support of my husband, I started to do research. 

Fast forward, to August 2012.  I won ‘The Emerald’, I got to the finals of the, ‘Daphne Du Maurier’ and I received a contract offer from, ‘Secret Cravings Publishing’.

And I was still mostly clueless… but I began to learn.

First lesson.  Manuscripts are not books.  Those pages and pages of words are not a book.  They are a draft, which with hard work, will become a book.

Second lesson.  Your editor is your boss.  She is not there to ruin your manuscript; she is there to turn your manuscript into a published book.

Third lesson.  Editing is a part of an author’s life, it is a necessity.  Being precious about that sentence you really like and want to keep, regardless of all the reasons why it should clearly go, does not help anyone.

In the weeks leading up to my very first edits, and the learning of the above lessons, I freely admit to being a mess of nerves.  What if my editor hates it? What if she changes every single word? What if it ends up being no longer my book?

I discovered something very interesting about myself.  I could worry myself into a small quivering wreck sitting in the corner.  Or I could take this invaluable information and use it to make myself a better writer.  It was the right choice. When the round 1 edits arrived, I looked at my manuscript logically and objectively.  Yes that’s right, that comment makes no sense in the context of the chapter.  No I don’t need all those extra explanations in the middle of that paragraph.  Yes that is head-hopping and needs to go.

I sliced through dialogue I considered pure Shakespeare when I wrote it.  Merrily adjusted sentences to allow for a clean flow and corrected foolish mistakes, carefully pointed out by someone looking at the story with a clear clean set of eyes.

Editors are not only necessary, they are essential.

But getting published isn’t all hard work.  There comes that joyous day when the cover art arrives.  When words become pictures! And the characters in your head are there for the world to see. What a day.  What an amazing fantastic day.  I have six more books due for release in 2013 and every one of them will be exciting.  But I suspect, seeing the cover art for my first book will always stay with me. 

Finally the big day arrives.  Final proofreading, writing the author bio, and the dedication. Then release day.

Seeing my name for the first time, on the cover of a book. My published book! Is another memory I will hold close.  All the hard work melts away.  The agonizing over the submission letter.  The time consuming and sometimes frustrating task of writing a synopsis that is concise, without skipping over the plot.  The waiting every day and obsessively checking emails to see if the publishing house has replied. Then when they do, the task of edits, corrections and revisions.

It is all worth it. 

I am no longer clueless.  Nor am I an expert.  I still need my editor and my publishers to guide me through.  But I know now that it takes hard work, time and effort to get a book published.

Now I am an author and proud of it.

So when my friend asked why only one book was coming out, even though I had written seven.  I smiled and told her, ‘all good things come to those who wait’.

***

Thank you, Ms. Wren. Loved having you. Readers, here's a blurb about Caroyln's book:

A covert operative. A life filled with secrets.

Jared Knight works with an elite group of agents trained to track down the worst criminals humanity has to offer. His career leaves no room for relationships.

On a dangerous assignment in Monaco he is captivated by a woman in a crowded ballroom. Disturbed by the uncharacteristic lapse, he is determined to forget her...

Five years later Jared offers Cecilia Benedict his protection when she becomes the object of an overzealous secret admirer. Unbeknown to Cecilia she is the woman who has haunted Jared’s thoughts. He can stay away no longer now her life is in danger.

Cecilia is intrigued by Jared’s serious manner and deep grey eyes. In the close confines they share she finds herself emotionally and physically drawn to him. An attraction grows...

But danger lurks in the shadows, threatening to destroy their relationship before it can even begin.

Tuesday Tales: Writing Prompt: Wine

For this week's Tuesday Tale, I'm proud to say I managed to put the word wine in a work in progress. This is from Ladies Uncorked, when the ladies find out their ladies only wine tour is not really ladies only.

“Six wineries, a fancy lunch, two nights in a four-star hotel. I. Am. So. There.” Nicole tossed her long locks out of her face as she glanced up from the glossy brochure in her hands.

“I brought my wine bag.” Rozella tugged the empty wine pouch, folded into a little square, from the tote bag at her feet.

“That only holds six bottles.” Nicole frowned as she eyed the six divided compartments. “I’ll have to get my own.”

“They’re bound to have one at one of these places.”

“Guess we’ll find out tomorrow. We spend a night in a hotel first and tomorrow, the wineries. It’s a five-hour drive to get there. I still can’t believe two hundred apiece covered the fancy hotel, winery fees, and transportation.”

“Here comes the bus now.” Rozella pointed at the red and white bus as it drew level with them where they sat on a bench at the station. “I feel like a giddy child.” She giggled and stuffed the wine bag back in her tote before tugging Nicole to her feet.

The bus door opened with a whoosh, and all the waiting women—sixteen in all—eagerly clambered forward, ready to board. Excitement crackled in the air, accompanied by the sound of women tittering, laughing, or saying goodbye to by standing husbands or sons.

Rozella’s view was hindered by the large straw hat of an old lady who pushed in front of her. She swallowed her irritation and wiped a bead of sweat from her brow.

“Whoa. Would you look at that fine ass piece of man candy.”

“Man candy? Where? This is ladies only.” Regardless, Rozella craned her neck, trying to see what had her friend so awed. She wanted to see this man candy too.

“Well, I could be wrong,” her friend said, fanning herself with the brochure, “but I think we have a male tour guide, and he’s hotter than the sun burning my skin right now.”

Finally, the old lady with the ridiculous hat moved forward and to the side, and Rozella saw a tall man, well-built with muscles showing from under his polo shirt, a military-like buzz cut, and penetrating brown eyes. Sure enough, the logo on his blue shirt said Napa Valley Wine Tours.

Before she could open her mouth to agree with Nicole’s observations, the gorgeous man spoke, “Hi, ladies! I’m Blake, and I’m your tour guide for the weekend.”

A chorus of feminine hellos rang out in reply.

Blake placed his hands on his slender hips—Rozella noted the lack of a wedding band with a flutter of relief—and continued, “We’re going to go ahead and load up your bags. Kindly hand me your tickets as you get on the bus. I ask that you let the disabled and the elderly be seated first. We have a five-hour drive ahead of us and two days traveling together all over Napa Valley, so we’ll be getting to know each other real well.” He reached out a hand to assist the first elderly lady in line. “Any questions at all, concerns, needs, come talk to me. I’m very approachable.”

Nicole snickered next to her, and Rozella finally closed her mouth. She cleared her throat. “Well, so much for ladies only.”

“I’m extremely grateful for this interesting turn of events.” Nicole waggled her blond arched eyebrows.

Be sure to check out the other Tuesday Tales and see what my fellow writers came up with this week too: HERE