Welcome to Tuesday Tales, a weekly blog featuring diverse authors posting excerpts from their works in progress based on word and picture prompts. We’re a book hungry bunch that enjoys reading as much as you do. Today our word prompt is pocket. My excerpt is from a paranormal fantasy in which a goddess occasionally inhabits the body of an archaeological assistant. Please read the excerpts of the other authors at Tuesday Tales.
Simon’s calves burned from a supersized dose of adrenalin. He leaned over, clamped his hands on his knees, and sucked in oxygen. Prue’s unexpected familiarity with the man in question had his brain cells fumbling over themselves.
Through clenched teeth she snarled words at him. “Why did you follow me?”
He straightened up, still heaving. “I was worried about you. Traipsing out to this seedy area at night. It’s nuts!”
“Oh, so I’m nuts now.” He took her quieter tone to mean she was calming down, but she actually appeared more distracted than anything else. Her glance rested on whatever the man held in his hand. It looked like a wallet or small case, rather than the weapon Simon had first feared when he dashed in to protect Prue.
With a smooth gesture, the man slipped the item back inside his coat pocket. His amusement was evident. “Prue darling, aren’t you going to introduce me to your valiant friend?”
Darling? Who the hell was this joker?
Her gaze still languished on the man’s pocket.
With a short, exasperated sigh, the man thrust out a hand. “Zeth Manes. And you are?”
He had a healthy grip. “Simon Hastings. So you work for Prue’s family?” Curiosity seeped from his voice. Prue had never mentioned her family except to say they were not worth mentioning.
“She doesn’t like to claim me, but I’m Prue’s third cousin twice removed.”
Prue made a strangling sound and engaged in an animated coughing fit.
Simon and Zeth both pounded on her back, and the latter produced—of all things—a handkerchief, arctic white and crisply folded.
Prue snatched it and proceeded to wipe her eyes, which were red and streaming tears.
Frustrated tears, if Simon was reading her right.
Her words came blathering out. “What in seven hells do you both think you’re doing?” She glared at Zeth and then at Simon, followed by a sharp, exaggerated gesture skyward. “I’m outta here.”
Before Simon could get a word out, she marched off down the sidewalk.
Zeth plucked up the handkerchief she had flung down. His lips twisted in a wry smile. “Where’s the closest bar, Simon?”
I hope you enjoyed the snippet based on the word pocket. Thanks for stopping by. Return to Tuesday Tales.
Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic in Romance
This story is so much fun!
I’m having fun with it, too, Mae!
I love the introduction of Zeth and I’m dying to know what’s in the box and what Prue is hiding from Simon. Great job!
I’m glad you liked Zeth coming in, Tricia. Thank you for the cool comments.
Lots to smile about this week. 🙂 Loving it. Jillian
Hahaha, thank you so much, Jillian!
Now I need to know who this supposed “cousin” is. Great snippet!
Zeth might have something up his sleeve. Thanks, Jean!
Oh! You’re another bad, bad girl. Keeping us hanging here. I’m dying of curiosity about what’s going on. And next week is picture prompt, so you’re probably not going to reveal much there either. Arghhhh!
On a side note, your phrase “a handkerchief, arctic white and crisply folded.” THAT is why I love your writing so much. I would have simply said ‘a handkerchief.’ The end. But you have this luscious, lyrical descriptive touch that adorns your writing and gives us so much enjoyment.
Trisha, your words about the handkerchief made my week. Sometimes we get a little down and wonder if we’re doing it right, and your feedback came at the exact perfect time. Thank you!