You've got the "Look" challenge

Here’s the challenge: search the word LOOK in your current WIP (work in progress), pick your favorite, and post three paragraphs around the word.

From my time travel romance novel, "Anna in the Portrait"

Nate held the drawings to his chest and closed his eyes. A feeling of intense joy ran through his body, causing his heart to expand in his chest and beat wildly. In his mind a vision appeared of the Sunken Garden as it looked in the early 1900’s. Climbing Rose bushes on arbors, iris in tall clumps thriving in the background, dahlias with their blooms of different colors and shapes, and pastel colored tulips standing tall at the front of each section. Between bushes of lavender, peonies grew with their full pink blossoms. He could smell the fragrance of the flowers and feel the warm breeze of the early afternoon.

         In his vision, a girl with long dark hair walked up the stone steps from the garden. She held a  bouquet of freshly cut flowers and turned to talk with the man coming up behind her. The expression on her face was of pure elation, echoing the feeling he just experienced when he held the drawings  close to his heart.

When he saw the face of the man he sucked in a huge breath. The man looked just like him. Nate knew immediately it was his great-granddad Nathaniel. Nathaniel's gaze locked on Nate standing in the dormer window and at that instant Nate sensed their souls connect. He felt what Nathaniel felt, the wild tumble of his heart for the girl.

 

Wheels and Waves Award Winner

Our1927 Model T Ford Roadster took home an award this last weekend at Wheels and Waves 2012 in Seaside, Oregon. Yeah!! Proud hubby is at the wheel and friend Chip is in the passenger seat.

Gullible Grandma

Ann's writing challenge:

It is 10:30 at night on a warm May evening.  A woman has found a place to sit in a small architectural alcove on the outside of a church a block away from her residence.  She chose this spot not for any religious significance but because it faces a grassy area and the backs of other buildings.  In the darkness, it is unlikely anyone will see her there.  She weeps.

Why is she weeping?


She was so stupid. How had she not seen it for what it was? She couldn’t go home to face her husband yet; he’d be furious. She would sit outside in the darkness of the church alcove for a while longer. She looked out to the buildings in the distance, their lights burning brightly, and wiped the shredded Kleenex she gripped in her hand over her swollen eyes. She hadn’t been able to stop crying since she figured it out. Maybe if the door to the church was open she’d go inside and pray. She needed all the help she could get.

“Grandma, I’m in Canada and I’ve been arrested. I need you to wire money to me for bail. But please don’t tell Dad.”

The telephone connection crackled. “Grandma, will you help me?” His voice was high and panicked.

“What have you been arrested for, Josh?” Her only grandson lived with his dad across the country in Oregon. She hadn’t seen him since he started college two years ago.

“They said they found drugs in the trunk of my car when they stopped me for going too fast. Grandma, I don’t do drugs and it was just 5 miles over the speed limit. I wasn’t paying attention.”

She’d gone to the bank and wired $30,000 to her grandson in Canada. It was almost all they had in savings, but she had to help him. He promised she’d get it all back because the lawyer who was representing him told him he’d be able to get the charges dropped.

After she had wired the money, she had second thoughts. Something just didn’t feel right. She called her son in Oregon and Josh answered the phone. “Canada? No Grandma. I’m home this weekend from college staying with dad.”

She called the police and then Western Union. They took her information, but told her what she had already figured out. She’d given her money to a scam artist.

Now she had to face her husband to tell him she had wired almost all of their savings to someone in Canada, and it was gone forever.

She stood and walked to the door of the church. She’d go inside first and pray for some of that divine intervention.

Poem to capture a moment in time

August 21, 2012 10:20PM

Pitch black, the country night
Calm and still
No help from winking stars
The air with a hint of chill

The feeble beam of my flashlight
Bounces as I scurry
It attempts to push back the dark
To take away the worry

120 steps from door to gate
Then I tug it till it closes
To keep out the deer
And save my pretty roses

Only darkness across the street
Things are not the same
Since Thursday July 3rd
When that house went up in flames

A startled bird flees the hedge
And I jump in alarm
Surely there’s no one there
No chance of any harm

But I’ll remember to do this earlier
Tomorrow night
Before darkness presses around me
And gives me such a fright.

Would you read this book?

ANNA IN THE PORTRAIT 

by Linda McMann 

CHAPTER 1

Hillside Manor 1909

 “He’s here, he’s here! He’s come for Anna,” said Bessie running into the room wringing her hands. Her eyes darted around the mahogany paneled room looking for a place to hide behind the massive walls of books.

“Go. Now. Leave us,” Isabella said to the housekeeper as she hurried across the rich burgundy Persian rug and shooed her away. She locked the double doors to the library, leaned against them and heard Bessie's heavy footsteps tromping down the hallway towards the back of the manor.

Isabella’s heart pounded in her chest as she gathered her swirling thoughts together and concentrated on the instructions for the spell she was about to cast. It had to work, it just had to.

She moved to the fireplace and hugged her distraught young daughter. Above the mantel hung a portrait of Anna, commissioned and completed upon her graduation from Miss Porter’s Finishing School this past spring. Long dark curly hair framed her petite face and violet eyes, matching the iridescent purple cape around her shoulders, gleamed with unshed tears . Isabella fastened the ancestral sapphire pendant around Anna’s neck and placed her rose gold wedding band in her palm.

 “Mother are, are, you, you sure?” said Anna. Tears gave way and slid down her cheeks as she struggled for control, gripping the ring.

The desperation in Isabella’s eyes spoke louder than her words. “It’s the only way I know to insure your safety, my love. We don’t have much time.”

 She closed her eyes and cleared her mind for a moment, then clasped her daughter’s hands as she spoke:

“Be still

  Be safe

  In this painting you shall dwell

  Till one true love breaks the spell

  Be still

  Be safe

  Carefully watch and wait

  For release to your one soul mate.”

The instant her daughter vanished, a flash of blinding light filled the room. Isabella shielded her eyes with trembling hands. Her knees gave way and she sank to the floor. She touched her head gingerly and rubbed at the ache there with one hand. She moved her hand over her heart.

Did she do the right thing? Did she say the right spell? She looked up at the portrait. It changed ever so slightly to show her twenty-year-old daughter now wearing the sapphire pendant and holding her gold wedding band. A hint of lilac, her favorite fragrance, remained in the air.

Relief and sorrow washed over Isabella as she stood, pressing her palms down the front of her skirt, absently smoothing the fabric. It worked. Her daughter and the pendant were safe. She stumbled as she took the first step, and grabbed the back of a chair, steadying herself. Squaring her shoulders, she moved forward opening the doors to the library and walked to the front door of the manor to answer the insistent knocking.

             She stood tall as she met Alfred’s gaze. She must maintain control.

“I’ve come for Anna. We are to be married as our families agreed. I will be moving the date forward, since you are without protection now that your husband is gone.”

She looked into his cold eyes and saw the lack of compassion there, even as his words belied it. “My husband called on you yesterday to cancel the betrothal and I know you’re responsible for his death. You will not take our daughter.”

“I have the agreement in writing and you have no choice in the matter, Mrs. Harris.” He advanced forward, raising his fist and shaking it at her. “Do not underestimate me. I will have Anna as my wife.”

Isabella stepped backwards involuntarily. She met his glaring eyes and strengthened her resolve. Her voice rose, “Anna has been sent away to safety. She will not be marrying you now or ever. Good day to you, Mr. White.”

She slammed the door and bolted it, leaning back against its solid support. She could hear him shouting threats, and slowly sank to the floor as every bone in her body lost its rigidity. A desolate moan escaped her lips. She hugged herself with arms that would never hold the two people most dear to her again, and rocked back and forth.

“God be with you darling girl, as I cannot.”