Sunday Snippets 33 – Deep Fried Sweethearts


Welcome back to the Weekend Writing Warriors!

DFS_MD

Went MIA for a couple of weeks, sorry about that. First I went out of town to work, and then took a week to recover from the madness. A couple weeks back, last time I posted…Michaela went and called Owen’s car a “No-Go”.). You all worried about what would happen after she ragged on his car…but you might be surprised. I had to skip a little ahead to show you the cause of her reaction. Michaela speaks first:

“Okay, this isn’t the best picture-I have several much better ones at home.”

Owen rose and turned his chair around to edge closer. Once they were shoulder to shoulder, she showed him the picture. He gasped and snatched the picture from her fingers, “Holy crap.”

“That’s my dad and me, and my baby-I call her Betty.”

“I have never seen her, where do you hide her?” He ran his index finger along the lines of the black Nova in the picture.

“New York winters are assholes to cars, especially beauties like Betty.”

*Tiniest bit of creative editing in place, just a wee bit to fit it into the 8

*~*

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Michaela O’Keefe is in over her head with her restaurant, The Midway.  Her ad for an assistant manager brings Owen “Tag” Montague to her doorstep. With an impeccable resume and dozens of letters of recommendation, she has little choice but to give him a chance. Ten years her junior, Tag sets her long-dead libido humming, but she gave up on love and her instincts on men years ago.

Tag has had a crush on his new boss since his youth, but he’s determined to prove he can do the job. Still, he can’t resist the urge to make her blush down to her toes as often as possible. He knows her rough past in life and love makes it hard to trust, and he’s wary of crossing the line he so desperately wants to.

Just when they manage to figure out how to work and play together, Michaela’s ex does all he can to destroy their budding love. When push comes to shove Michaela’s inability to give Tag the benefit of the doubt might destroy everything.

Learning to trust herself again is the hardest lesson Michaela will ever have to learn – and by the time she does, it may be too late for love.

*~*

Head back on over to the Weekend Writing Warriors to read many more wonderful offerings!

Tuesday Tales – Mother – Independent Brake

KatWelcome back to Tuesday Tales!  This weeks prompt is Mother.

After a week off, I’m back with Kat’s story, Independent Brake. Kat has decided she might just stay in Dominion Falls a while, and sets about reacquainting herself with more than just the sexy and fun Cole Mitchell–who is little more than a fun romp. She’s already invited the town doctor to lunch, and has another destination in mind, but an unwelcome person is in her path:

Down the street, Kat’s sister stood on the porch of the boarding house beating a rug over the hitching post.

Kat debated taking another route and avoiding her sister as she had all week, but she supposed the time to be childish was over. If she stayed in Dominion Falls for any length of time, she’d have to see Martha now and then.

With her shoulders squared, she kept going down the boardwalk.

Not surprisingly, when Martha turned her way, she ceased beating the rug and set her hands on her hips. Martha’s graying hair was breaking free of her bun from the exertion of her working, and her once thin waist had expanded some inches.

Kat almost felt bad for the change her sister had undergone. Almost.

“Katherine.” Martha touched her arm. “Wait.”

“For what?” Kat turned toward her sister, ready for a fight. “You to tell me what a horrible person I am? Or perhaps tell Mother and drag her here?”

“I just don’t believe you’re thinking. To take up with a man like Cole Mitchell is a grievous mistake.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. I’ve not ‘taken up’ with anyone. I am enjoying Cole’s company, that is all. Men do it all the time, why shouldn’t a woman when she wants?”

“It’s not right, or decent.”

“Right? Decent? You’re a fine one to talk.” Kat bowed to her sister. “To Martha, the most hypocritical person in Dominion Falls.”

“I beg your pardon?” Martha’s nostrils flared in indignation. “I’m not a hypocrite.”

“But you are. You, who took up with an Indian while engaged. You, who were with a good man like Daniel—and got pregnant by another man. You are a fine one to talk about what is right and decent in the world.”

“You wouldn’t have the faintest idea what I went through during that time.” Martha gripped her rug beater. “You were a child.”

“Exactly. Was. I nearly had to bear the consequences of your actions. However, I’m an adult now and can make my own choices.” Kat stepped closer. “You’ve tried to become this perfect person to make up for what you did. Problem is, people hate you more now than they did then. Maybe they’d have gotten over the whole Starbird thing if you hadn’t become the epitome of mother at her most uptight.”

“I had to make it right,” Martha whispered.

“Some things, you never can.” Kat turned on her heel and strode away.

“You’ve never been in love, Kat!” Martha called after her, “When you are, you’ll understand then.”

Kat brushed off the words as desperation and rushed along the muddy street quick as she could. There were no further impediments to her arrival at the telegraph office.

Inside Norman sorted mail into boxes, his back to the door. “Be right there,” he said in an acerbic tone, like he was annoyed anyone dared interrupt him from his work for a different sort of work.

She covered her mouth to hide her giggle. For some reason she found the grumpy gentleman endearing. In the week since she’d been home they’d had a few run-ins, usually right in his office. She’d become convinced his admonishments were little more than him trying to give her advice, it just happened to come in the form of scolding.

“No hurry, Norman,” Kat said when she managed to stop her quiet laughter. If anything, she wanted to be nice to him. She thought maybe he was lonely after his wife had passed some years ago. An older gentleman often had few prospects once his wife was gone, and as they’d never had children, he had no one else to pester.

“Oh, it’s you.” He kept his back to her, slipping envelopes into boxes until the small stack was depleted. “What’re you after?”

“Quite a bit, actually.” She leaned on the counter with a bright grin. “Life, laughter, happiness, fun.”

He grumbled and moved to his desk. “Got a wire for ya.”

“Oh, good. Is it from Patrick?”

“In St. Louis, yeah.” Norman set it on the counter. “What else?”

She read the wire quickly. Bess was doing well, and he was pleased she’d managed to have fun. She grinned. “First, I’d like to reply. Then, I have another request.”

Norman got his pad out and wrote almost as fast as she spoke. He ticked off the words with his pencil and nodded. “That’ll be two bits.”

“Of course.” Kat handed him the money, then set her hand on his arm. “Would you join me for supper this evening?”

He narrowed his eyes at her hand, then lifted his gaze to meet hers. “’Scuse me?”

“You aren’t going deaf. You heard me.”

“What’re you doin’? Makin’ a spectacle of yourself like ya are, and now this?”

“I’m not making a spectacle. Others are making one for me. I tried to be discreet, but people had other ideas.” She pulled her hand back. “I thought I would like the company, and I thought you might as well. Forgive me, for I see I was wrong.”

He shook his head. “Why Cole?”

“Well, why not? I have no delusions of love, not with him. I have yet to find a man that would make me feel that way.”

“Then you are the one that needs company, not me. I had that once.”

“She’s been gone nine years. You must get lonely.”

“No man is lonely in this town ‘less he wants to be.”

“Whores aren’t company. They’re sexual release.”

“Woman like you shouldn’t be talking like that.”

“And yet, here I am.” Kat grinned and leaned on the counter. “That’s what Cole is for me, and I for him. Perhaps we’ll be friends, but that has yet to happen. Please, Norman. I would love if you’d join me for supper.”

“No.” He turned and went back to his work. The click of the telegraph filled the office in his silence.

“If you change your mind, I’ll be at Turner’s. Good afternoon, Norman.”

*~*

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Tuesday Tales – Flying – Independent Brake

KatWelcome back to Tuesday Tales!  This weeks prompt is Flying.

I’m back with Kat’s story, Independent Brake. In this scene Kat has had enough with her travel buddies from the last year. Now that she’s home, she’s got some gumption up to speak her piece:

The leader of the Temperance group, Helen Bertrand, paced back and forth. By now Kat was familiar with the routine. Helen would get herself keyed up so that she might get the others keyed up to agree to the next step. She’d already loudly denounced Cole’s saloon as the worst of the bunch, which would make him a prime target.

At first Kat would argue until she was hoarse, but time had softened her arguments. Often instead, she’d merely protested, and then gone to the saloon Helen chose as prime target and attempt to warn the owner. Unfortunately she wasn’t always successful, many of the saloon owners dismissed her as an annoying, histrionic woman.

Because of that, many saloons had been left with hefty damages in the wake of the women in this room. Kat saw no promise in destroying a person’s livelihood. For where you destroy one, often two more would spring up in its place.

In the past few months she’d begun to believe with all honesty that Helen enjoyed reaching the point of violence. There was no sign of change now as, true to form, Helen quoted irrelevant scripture once again to boost her cause. “As it says in first Samuel, chapter fifteen, verse eighteen: ‘Go and utterly destroy the sinners…and fight against them until they are exterminated’.”

Kat bit her tongue to hide her sigh and one of her standard retorts of scripture. No amount of ‘judge not’ or ‘let he who is without sin’ ever made a lick of difference. She toyed with the teacup on her saucer for a few minutes before she realized every eye was on her. She frowned and straightened. “Yes?”

“No protest this time?” Lottie’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “That is your standard approach, is it not?”

“As women who are beaten by their husband would tell you, you can only take so much berating before you cave to it. No matter what I say, you’ll do as you please.” Kat rose to her feet. “And so I’m leaving. I came along in hopes of helping some men learn temperance, not to destroy the livelihood of dozens of men who have no other trade.”

“We have changed lives.” Helen held her bible close to her chest. “Sometimes it takes a strong hand to enforce such a thing.”

“No. What you have done is bullied and pressured. You’ve interrupted men while in the sauce and tried to speak reason to their drunken minds. Perhaps on purpose because you knew then they wouldn’t listen and you’d have an excuse to take up your hatchet.” Kat brushed past Helen. “I want no part of such destruction. I never did. This call to arms is not what I signed up for.”

“Quiet women don’t change the world,” Helen objected.

“You don’t have to take up a hatchet to be heard,” Kat countered. “I am plenty loud without it. Plus, as I am, many men have listened to me. Perhaps I’ll be far more effective without the saddle of your infractions weighing my voice down.”

Kat turned her back on their gasps and murmurs and strode from the boarding house. Part of her wanted to just go flying across the street to the saloon to warn Cole, but if she did so the women would see and change their plan.

Instead, she turned and walked calmly back to the hotel. Once the world was quiet, she would go to warn Cole. For once, perhaps they might listen. Then maybe she’d feel her debt repaid, and could enjoy her pleasures without feeling like a whore.

Without a word to anyone, she passed through the casino and climbed the stairs to her room. She had the good fortune of a front room with access to the balcony, so she wouldn’t have to pass through again on her way out.

Three days she’d stayed at the Silver Saddle, and every day she hated it more. The proprietor was not only over-attentive in his consideration of her well-being; she’d learned in her time staying there he was also business partners with Jackson Krenshaw.

Kat shuddered at the thought of seeing the man that had bought her parents house. From all she’d heard, he was as loathsome as a snake. He was all pseudo-cunning and cruel actions, not to mention his bold display of his wealth.

She managed to slip into her room quick enough to avoid being seen by Guy, and locked the door behind her. In just a few hours when the town was quiet, she’d make her move. In the interim, she’d get her things gathered into her trunk, and then read.

Sometime the next day she hoped to find somewhere else to stay. Cora had been kind enough to offer a small room at the general store and restaurant she ran with her husband Kelly. Kat seriously considered the prospect, since she had few others on the horizon.

Considering she had no idea how long she’d stay, it was premature to search for a permanent residence. For all she knew, she might just pack up and head to St. Louis before the month was out.  Once the Temperance group was gone, she wasn’t sure just what she’d do with herself.

Packing took longer than expected, and by the time she was done the town had already grown quieter. She gathered her book and sat near the door to keep an eye on the saloon across the way.

Two hours and three chapters later Graham was tossing men out on their drunken rear ends. She frowned, unwilling to cross paths with the man Cole had apparently taken on as a business partner without explanation.

Rumors had swirled about a young whore Cole had taken in for two years before shuffling her off just as quiet as her arrival; especially since at the same time of her arrival he asked Graham to join in running the saloon. Fiercely independent as Cole was, everyone was surprised he’d let in a partner of any kind—business or pleasure.

They’d thought maybe with the new partner he’d turn the saloon into a hotel, or add in a casino, but none of that happened. The saloon remained unchanged, Cole’s mood had soured supposedly, though Kat saw little sign of it in their interactions, and now Graham’s drunken benders were facilitated by his ownership, and gave him a certain power to use his anger to beat up more men under the guise of order in the saloon.

Kat set her book down and rose, closing the door behind her. Into the quiet of the night, she slipped down the stairs. By the time she reached the boardwalk, Cole was outside bidding farewell to Graham.

She lingered until Graham was well down the street and only the flare up of Cole’s cigar when he dragged on it remained. With a careful step she slipped between two vendor carts into the muddy street. One benefit to changing to pantaloons was not having to keep her skirts elevated to avoid the muck of small town roads, and as always she was grateful for that small benefit.

When she landed on the boards across the street, the light of the cigar turned her way. Inwardly she was both grateful they had yet to install street lamps, and upset by it. She’d appreciate seeing his face when she approached, but was glad the dark hid her from any prying eyes.

Either way, by the time she got close, Cole’s chuckle reached her ear. When he himself reached for her, she side-stepped him to the porch. “Easy there, Cole. I didn’t come for fun, no matter how powerful you think your charms are.”

“I don’t think—I know.”

“I don’t think you know, either.”

*~*

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Sunday Snippets 32 – Deep Fried Sweethearts


Welcome back to the Weekend Writing Warriors!

DFS_MD

Continuing directly from last week. Tag has suggested that he have Michaela check him thoroughly for more oil.  

(Once again, this will be continued directly next week):

She managed a laugh to cover the choking lump in her throat and heat the idea sent right to her core. “Cute, real cute. What were you doing, grease monkey?”

“I was at Cal’s working on my Nova.”

This time she did choke on her own laughter, and she blinked a few times. “I’m sorry, did you say a Nova? As in a No-Go?”

Owen stopped examining his arms and his gaze snapped to meet hers, “What did you say?”

*Tiniest bit of creative editing in place, just a wee bit to fit it into the 8

*~*

Amazon | SCP | BN | ARe | 

Michaela O’Keefe is in over her head with her restaurant, The Midway.  Her ad for an assistant manager brings Owen “Tag” Montague to her doorstep. With an impeccable resume and dozens of letters of recommendation, she has little choice but to give him a chance. Ten years her junior, Tag sets her long-dead libido humming, but she gave up on love and her instincts on men years ago.

Tag has had a crush on his new boss since his youth, but he’s determined to prove he can do the job. Still, he can’t resist the urge to make her blush down to her toes as often as possible. He knows her rough past in life and love makes it hard to trust, and he’s wary of crossing the line he so desperately wants to.

Just when they manage to figure out how to work and play together, Michaela’s ex does all he can to destroy their budding love. When push comes to shove Michaela’s inability to give Tag the benefit of the doubt might destroy everything.

Learning to trust herself again is the hardest lesson Michaela will ever have to learn – and by the time she does, it may be too late for love.

*~*

Head back on over to the Weekend Writing Warriors to read many more wonderful offerings!

Tuesday Tales – Picture Prompt – Independent Brake

coloradoWelcome back to Tuesday Tales!  This weeks prompt is this picture.

Stalled Independence which I featured the past two weeks is complete and ready for my lovely editor.  Plus, this picture lends itself better to another story. So this week I return to Independent Brake the prequel to my Dominion Falls series featuring Katherine Daugherty. 

In this excerpt she is returning to her hometown after five years away. Her parents are long gone, living in Denver…and the first person she sees again has more impact on her story than she’s yet to realize:

“You grew up here?” Lottie, the young woman closest to Kat’s own age spoke up. Her nose wrinkled as she peeked out of the curtain. “How…quaint.”

“It was better then, not so many buildings.” Kat felt frisky enough to rile Lottie. The woman acted so prim and proper, but Kat knew her to be a hypocrite. At least Kat was honest about her dislike of some of what the league did. Lottie just drank and made time with men in every town they went to right behind the other women’s back.

“Well, I guess it explains some things.” Lottie eyed Kat’s pantaloons in disdain.

“Oh, please. I only started wearing these a year ago. Growing up here had little to do with my fashion choice.” Kat smirked. “I’m not ashamed of what I am, certainly not of where I came from. I liked growing up here. It was wilder, freer, and dangerous at times.”

Lottie’s reply was cut off with a sharp jolt of the carriage when the stagecoach stopped suddenly.

Kat didn’t wait for Lottie’s retort, or the driver. Instead, she reached out of the window and opened the door. She leaped out into the street, not surprised by the constant bustle of activity around her. All around most people kept up with their business, others were drawn to the carriage like bees to honey. She pulled away from the carriage to take in most of the town.

Straight down the main street she sill had a clear view of snow capped mountains in the distance. Then acres of fields gave way to the dirty, chaotic town. Behind her she could hear the mines working just a few miles off.

Her smile brightened as she turned, taking in the sights, and smells, of the town. The unease and tension slipped away and her shoulders dropped. She was home.

*~*

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Sunday Snippets 31 – Deep Fried Sweethearts


Welcome back to the Weekend Writing Warriors!

DFS_MDAfter Tag caught her sleeping at her desk last week, Michaela’s usual perusal of his strong arms (she really does admire them often) leads to a discovery

(Due to length of scene, this will be continued next week):

“So what were you up to this morning? You’re filthy.” She’d returned her gaze to his arms; that’s how she’d noticed the dark smudges near his elbow and wrist, “Grease?”

“Oil-I thought I got it all.” He lifted his arm, his forehead puckering into an adorable hint of a frown. “Damn, don’t worry. I’ll get good and cleaned up before I touch food-maybe I should have you check me thoroughly.”

A task she sure wouldn’t mind for a minute.

*Tiniest bit of creative editing in place, just a wee bit to fit it into the 8

*~*

Amazon | SCP | BN | ARe | 

Michaela O’Keefe is in over her head with her restaurant, The Midway.  Her ad for an assistant manager brings Owen “Tag” Montague to her doorstep. With an impeccable resume and dozens of letters of recommendation, she has little choice but to give him a chance. Ten years her junior, Tag sets her long-dead libido humming, but she gave up on love and her instincts on men years ago.

Tag has had a crush on his new boss since his youth, but he’s determined to prove he can do the job. Still, he can’t resist the urge to make her blush down to her toes as often as possible. He knows her rough past in life and love makes it hard to trust, and he’s wary of crossing the line he so desperately wants to.

Just when they manage to figure out how to work and play together, Michaela’s ex does all he can to destroy their budding love. When push comes to shove Michaela’s inability to give Tag the benefit of the doubt might destroy everything.

Learning to trust herself again is the hardest lesson Michaela will ever have to learn – and by the time she does, it may be too late for love.

*~*

Head back on over to the Weekend Writing Warriors to read many more wonderful offerings!