Tuesday Tales: Writing Snow Again

Welcome to Tuesday Tales, a weekly blog featuring diverse authors posting excerpts from their works in progress based on word and picture prompts. I’m pleased you stopped by today. It may be confusing that last week’s featured word and this week’s are both snow. Last week was picture prompt week, and I chose a picture that spoke snow to me. Now this week’s word prompt is snow. My snippet is from a medieval romance featuring a knight and his lady. I’m excited to work in my favorite reading genre. Enjoy the other authors at Tuesday Tales.

Without appearing obvious, he focused on what Harbottle was saying. The coarse prattle at the head of the table, however, seemed to be geared toward bloody thieving merchants, with no reference to the king or relations with the north. The woman beside him sighed softly, as she disposed of her spoon and pushed the trencher back. It was likely she had heard the same harangue for nights on end. Her tongue flicked daintily over a full bottom lip. She was a distraction, the sort he wasn’t accustomed to. A tray laden with the night’s subtle or sweet brought an end to most of the noise. Lady Alis’ reference to a favorite from his boyhood had pricked at tender memories he could not afford to entertain. And yet, he daren’t appear cold and stilted. Nor, truth be told, did he wish to, with her. “Ah, yes, I do recollect the creamy sweet you mentioned—Snow, you called it? I believe Cook termed it that, and how fitting, as it was always served during the time of year when actual snow covered the ground. My—my mother had another name for it.”

Her face turned up to his, her eyes shining. “Gâteau à la crème?” A smile played around the corners of her lips. “Mine as well, although she didn’t quail at its common name. She was—good that way.” Her eyes fell again, but not before he had seen the flicker of sadness.

“I wish I’d known her. I assure you, Lady Alis, I very much regret the loss of your father. My parents esteemed him highly.”

“I am gratified to hear it. Thank you, Sir Reese.”

“How fortunate your uncle was able to take the reins without much ado.”

She bit her lip. “Indeed.”

Her hand had also clenched around a piece of her gown as she spoke. He was not mistaken in his initial assessment. She had no use for Harbottle, uncle or no. There was far more here than met the eye.

I hope you enjoyed the snippet based on the word prompt snow. Thanks for stopping by. Return to Tuesday Tales.

Cheers & Happy Reading!

Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic in Romance