Welcome to Tuesday Tales, powered by a small group of authors, where word prompts inspire passages in the books we’re writing. I’m working on a cozy mystery, Pumpkin Patch Murder. Our word of the day is bland. When you finish the passage, make sure to visit all the talented authors of Tuesday Tales.
Sad and Weary offered, “Typical story. The mother was a bit of a free spirit. The father was common sense and bland. It’s no wonder they divorced.”
Frail said, “Opposites attract.”
Voice of Reason finished, “But usually don’t stay together.”
Grumpy rumbled, “Anyhow, back to the subject. Black Jack’s so-called accident purely hits me the wrong way. I heard tell he walked Pumpkin Patch Lane most every morning, and fast, too, not a leisurely stroll. Aside from that pipe he smoked, he was the spitting image of health. If not the girl or wife or cousin, I’d lay my money on a business deal gone wrong. Who did he do business with?”
Voice of Reason commented, “The purchase of the inn was handled through the bank. And Bo Dobbs is managing the work. Other than that, he hadn’t been back in town long enough for much business.”
Frail said, in her wavery voice, “He promised to donate a big chunk of time and money for this year’s Pumpkin Festival. Naomi and Portia were elated.”
Grumpy blurted, “Well, somebody laid him out!”
The younger woman admonished, “Now you don’t know that, Momma Pearl. You are all just dreaming up things today.”
“We’re surmising,” disputed Sad and Weary. “Thinking about that family and the old days, a lot of surmising comes up.”
Voice of Reason said, “Never mind him. When all is said and done, the real question is who killed Vonna Lacey. The fact that someone murdered her is indisputable. Black Jack’s condition may be an accident, but Vonna Lacey didn’t tie a scarf around her own neck and strangle herself on Pumpkin Patch Lane.”
“That’s true. Poor girl,” moaned Sad and Weary.
Grumpy said, “I say it’s Black Jack’s oddball cousin.”
“Luella is eccentric, but what motive would she have?” queried Voice of Reason.
“Well, she does reside at the inn, and the police are concentrating on that area as a focal point in the investigation,” the younger woman chimed in.
“How do you know that, Patsy?” Frail inquired.
“My friend, Angie, told me.” She waved a hand toward the hallway Roy had gone down. “She can’t help but hear things.”
“Oh, she’s a clerk back in there,” Frail mused, and Patsy nodded.
“You have your own sources of information, don’t you, dear?” enthused Grumpy. Her prideful gleam was so bright it had me wishing I’d worn shades.
Thanks for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed the piece inspired by the word bland. If you haven’t done so already, check out the other excerpts at Tuesday Tales.
Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic with Spirited Stories
All rights reserved, copyright @ 2025 Flossie Benton Rogers
Nothing better than gossip to touch on the salient points. Well done!
Get a few together lol!
Love the descriptions of each speaker. Their observations are keen and make me feel like a fly on the wall, listening to those who really know what’s going on. Great job!
I look forward to her finding out who they are, if she does find out.
I love the banter between them as they try to figure out what happened to Jack and Vonna. I hope something comes to them soon. Great job!
Thanks, Tricia. I hope so, too.
This is a great snippet. I loved following along with them all as they voiced their thoughts.
I have to say that I LOVED this line at the end:
“Her prideful gleam was so bright it had me wishing I’d worn shades.”
That was my favorite line as well! Thanks, Trisha.