Showing posts with label Pig in a Poke. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pig in a Poke. Show all posts

Sunday, June 12, 2016

Weekend Writing Warriors Post 6/12/16

Howdy! It's Sunday, which means it's time for the weekly WeWriWa blog hop, a fun opportunities for a wide assortment of writers to show off a snippet of their writing. Participant's represent a wide assortment of genres, writing styles, and differing backgrounds. It's a fun opportunity.

I'm still posting from my short story, Pig in a Poke, which was published just one year ago in the The Chocolate House-All for One-Anthology. The story is set in Bath, England towards the end of the Georgian period. This particular snippet does an excellent job of demonstrating how frustrated I've become with the romance genre's tendency to stick to male protagonists that look like Greek gods instead of average blokes. It's entirely possible that some creative editing was required to make this snip meet the 10 sentance limit!



The newcomer wasn’t unattractive, but he also wasn’t the type of man who’d cause eligible ladies to swoon and giggle when he walked past. Average height with a slenderness that didn’t appear to be from physical exertion so much as a tendency to skip too many meals, which, based on the fine cut of his clothes, had been missed by absentmindedness rather than lack of means.
His features were symmetrical and even, but again, average: a straight nose, straight mouth, cheekbones that were neither too high nor too low, faint cleft in the chin, gold spectacles magnified a pair of cerulean eyes that were lit with a deep intelligence. His pale, unblemished skin suggested he spent most of his time indoors. Dark blond hair peeked out from beneath his hat, wound into tight curls, and twisted around his one extraordinary feature, a cute pair of jug ears.
The scent of tobacco, ink, and paper wafted from his clothing.
He lacked the type of countenance that caused girls to swoon and sigh when men passed them on the street yet there was something about him that Letty found immensely pleasing. The longer she gazed upon him, the more smoothly his features seemed to fit together and the more striking he grew.
The stranger removed his hat and dipped into a deep bow. “Simon Harper, at your service.”

Sunday, April 17, 2016

Weekend Writing Warriors Post 4/17/16

Howdy! It's Sunday, which means it's time for the weekly WeWriWa blog hop, a fun opportunities for a wide assortment of writers to show off a snippet of their writing. Participant's represent a wide assortment of genres and differeing backgrounds. It's a fun opportunity.

I'm still posting from my short story, Pig in a Poke, which was published just one year ago in the The Chocolate House-All for One-Anthology. I jumped ahead a few paragraphs for this snippet, which connects the story's 2 main characters.



“Mr. Brice, this is not even close to a fair price. If you cannot increase the amount, then I insist
you return the pigs.” With each word her voice rose, attracting the attention of those passing by. Three young women looked nervously her way before hurrying to cross to the other side of the street.
       Fingers brushed against her elbow. “Madam, is there a problem?”
 Irritation spiked through Letty. The last thing she needed was another person meddling in her business.
“Do you make a habit of interrupting women when they’re in the middle of a private discussion?” Letty turned to face the stranger and her thoughts scattered.

Thanks for stopping by! Don't forget to take a few minutes and check out the other authors participating in this week's blog hop. You'll find the master list at WeWriWa.com

Sunday, February 14, 2016

WeWriWa Post 2/14/16

Happy Valentine's Day!

After a long hiatus, I'm back with another snippet from my short story, Pig in a Poke. The remainder of the story can be found in The Chocolate House-All for Love-Anthology.

Take some time to check out the rest of the WeWriWa snippets! You'll be glad you did.



Hysteria bubbled in Letty’s chest, and she sensed an invisible noose tighten around her throat. She shook the papers she held. “It cannot be correct.”
“Letty.” Her grandfather turned sightless eyes in her direction. “Hold tight to your temper, child. Mister Brice did the job requested of him and has paid us. Now it’s time to return home.”
Letty bit back the urge to scream. “He’s not providing payment. He's

cheating us.”