I just couldn't pass us up Emily's Fairy Tale Blogfest. You can go here to see the list of other entries. I hope I didn't embarass myself too bad with this. :) Enjoy....I hope.
“Are you sure he’s following us, Hank?” my little sister whispered. “I can’t see him anywhere.”
“Don’t worry Gretchen, he’s back there,” I whispered in return, making sure to keep my eyes pointed straight ahead. “Go ahead and drop another one.”
Out of the corner of my eye I watched as her little hands dug inside her basket and pulled out the chocolate kiss, wrapped in a shiny silver wrapper, then let it tumble to onto the path.
I kept my eye on Tilly to make sure she didn’t look back over her shoulder and notice my sister following my instructions. I had debated long and hard about letting Gretchen drop the kisses as we went along, afraid she might not be able to pull it off and get them both caught, but the basket she always carried with her was a perfect hiding place. Besides, she was so low to the ground it was a piece of cake for her to do it unnoticed.
I’m not sure how long we’ve been walking. Probably hours. The sun was high in the sky and the temperature had risen to the point where I already had to shed my sweatshirt, tying it around my waist. The trail we were on, if you could call it that, had disappeared long ago and now we seemed to just be taking what free space the forest could spare. I could hear Tilly several yards ahead of us, cursing under her breath and making less of an effort to conceal it. Why should she? Who we going to tell?
Out of nowhere we broke into a small clearing. In its center were a couple of fallen trees, Tilly went straight to one and propped her foot up on one. She scanned the area, considering something, then seemed to make up her mind.
“This’ll do,” she said. She slung her backpack from her shoulders to a spot next to the tree and sat down.
“I thought you said we were going to see a waterfall,” I asked.
“Change of plans.” She pulled out the water bottle from the side of her backpack and drew on it heavily.
“Can I have some water?” Gretchen raised her hand.
Tilly eyed my sister as she continued sucking water from the bottle until it was all gone.
“Oops…all gone.”
It was all I could do to not jump on her and claw those teasing eyes out. “You have another bottle in your backpack.”
“That’s for the walk back and we have to conserve it.”
“But my sisters thirsty now!”
“It’s okay, Hank,” Gretchen offered meekly.
“SHE CAN WAIT!” Tilly responded with a raised voice, her usual way of ending any discussion. In her mind…volume equaled superior reasoning.
“If our mom were here….” I started, with no real intention of finishing the thought.
Tilly stuffed the empty bottle back into her backpack, laughing. “That would be just fine with me…then I wouldn’t have to put up with the two of you anymore.”
Suddenly there was a commotion behind us. I turned just in time to see our Uncle Brett stumbling out of the woods where we had just emerged.
“It’s about friggin’ time,” his girlfriend Tilly said.
I did my best to look surprised. “I thought you were staying back at the camp Uncle Brett?”
“I bet you did. I also bet you didn’t think anybody would catch that trail of kisses you left behind?” Brett’s smile with those foul teeth looked awful on a good day, but now it seemed downright evil.
Tilly’s face first registered confusion, and then anger. She took three giants steps and yanked Gretchen’s basket out of her hands before I could make a move to stop her. She dug into the basket, tossing out dolls and other playthings, until finally pulling back with a handful of kisses.
“What the hell?”
“It’s like they knew what we were planning,” Brett directed to Tilly.
Gretchen slid up beside me and wrapped her arms around my waist.
“They left a trail of these?” Tilly asked.
“Yep.”
“What did you do?”
“I ate them.” I was sure I could still see the chocolate on Brett’s teeth as he smiled again.
Tilly glared at the two of us, then started tearing the wrapping off the kisses and jamming them into her mouth. She didn’t stop until she had devoured all of the remaining pieces.
“You were going to leave us out here to die, weren’t you?” I asked them. “That’s why you suddenly wanted to go camping, and why you picked such an isolated spot.”
Tilly swallowed the remaining chocolate. “It’s nothing personal. We just aren’t the parenting type. But if we gave you up to Foster care then we’d lose that trust fund your mom so generously set aside for us.”
I turned to look at Uncle Brett, my mom’s sister, but he wouldn’t make eye contact with me. He began making his way over to Tilly when he abruptly stopped short and grabbed a hold of his stomach.
“Gretchen,” I whispered, “get ready to run.”
Brett doubled over in pain. He shot a look at Tilly that was a mixture of puzzlement and desperation.
“We found the poison you were going to use on us,” I said to Tilly as she moved to catch Brett as he fell to the ground.
“I stoled it weeks ago…you know…when it went missing. That’s when you came up with this idea instead. Did you know you can hear everything said in your bedroom from the vent that leads to the basement?”
Brett was moaning loudly now, curled up in a fetal position.
“So we took your poison and coated the kisses in it.”
The recognition flashed across her face in stages.
“RUN GRETCHEN!”
We ran back in the direction we came. I could hear Tilly starting to follow us, and then a sharp gasp, followed by a thud.
We ran a couple hundred more yards before we stopped and looked back, but no one was there.
“Do you know where we are?” Gretchen asked.
I scanned the trail where we had just come from, and then up ahead of us. There laying in the middle of the path was a discarded silver wrapper. Good ole Brett!
“We’re going to be fine, Sis.”
Blogging Buddies around the Globe – Update #3
Yes boys and girls…time for another reminder about my quest to link with a follower in every state and country across the globe. I almost gave up on my quest a while back when I felt myself stumbling, but the overwhelming positive response I received convinced me to stick with this until the very end…no matter how long it takes! And I am now SOOOOOO close to one of those goals, I can almost taste it. And what I’m tasting is some Mississippi BBQ and West Virginia Pumpkin Pie, because those are the only two states I don’t have represented. (I’m only using locations where people are currently located…no switch-hitters)
As far as the countries go, it’s still easier to just list the ones I DO HAVE (22 of them):
Australia, Austria, Azerbaijan, Canada, Croatia, Cyprus, England, Ecuador, France, Germany, India, Ireland, Italy, Malaysia, New Zealand, Norway, Peru, Serbia, South Africa, Sweden, Switzerland, and United States.
Somebody once asked me why I just didn’t check the profiles of my followers and make note of their locations, or utilize Google Analytics to get the information that way. Surely I have each of the fifty states covered with my 477 followers? I could do that, but I wanted this to be interactive, with active participation. Therefore, I’m only counting the ‘Like Minded’ that post a comment, or e-mailed me directly. To date I’ve heard from 120 of you.
If you’re a follower and currently live in Mississippi or West Virginia, or one of the countries NOT listed above, please leave a comment on my original post here and be counted. If you know a blogger, or a blog reader, who resides in one of these areas, please give them a nudge in my direction.
Enjoy the rest of your week! :)
As far as the countries go, it’s still easier to just list the ones I DO HAVE (22 of them):
Australia, Austria, Azerbaijan, Canada, Croatia, Cyprus, England, Ecuador, France, Germany, India, Ireland, Italy, Malaysia, New Zealand, Norway, Peru, Serbia, South Africa, Sweden, Switzerland, and United States.
Somebody once asked me why I just didn’t check the profiles of my followers and make note of their locations, or utilize Google Analytics to get the information that way. Surely I have each of the fifty states covered with my 477 followers? I could do that, but I wanted this to be interactive, with active participation. Therefore, I’m only counting the ‘Like Minded’ that post a comment, or e-mailed me directly. To date I’ve heard from 120 of you.
If you’re a follower and currently live in Mississippi or West Virginia, or one of the countries NOT listed above, please leave a comment on my original post here and be counted. If you know a blogger, or a blog reader, who resides in one of these areas, please give them a nudge in my direction.
Enjoy the rest of your week! :)
Road Trip
The family (minus our two older children) plan on traveling to Atlanta Labor Day weekend to visit friends and watch our LSU Tiger football team (GEAUX TIGERS!) open the season against North Carolina in the Georgia Dome. We used to live on the outskirts of Georgia’s state capitol for nine years and my closest friend and his family still resides there, so we typically mount an excursion in that direction every couple years. I’m also meeting up with my best friend from high school (who attended UNC) and his wife. Although we enjoy ourselves immensely while we are there, road trips are a struggle for me and tend to overshadow the entire trip.
If you’re a regular reader of my blog, or have checked out my profile, you know that I grew up a military brat. That means a lot of long cross country trips with a family of six and the family dog all crammed in a station wagon (think National Lampoon’s Family Vacation). That was also back in the days when there were no portable DVD players (or DVD’s at all), no PSP’s or gameboys, and all that was available to help pass the time was to read, which I couldn’t do because I get sick when I read in a car. So what did I do? I became my father’s navigator. I kept track of what route we were taking, how far it was until the next city, if we were making good time or not, alternative paths to avoid heavy traffic, etc etc. There was no map I couldn’t decipher, except maybe Mississippi. What was a great way to pass the time when I was a kid became my curse as an adult, and a severe point of contention between me and my family.
I hate to say it, but I’m that person who’s extremely anal regarding a traveling timetable. Departure time: the earlier the better, preferably before the sun rises. If we are not ready to leave on-time then I’m pissed for at least a 100 miles. Potty break: that’s what mayo jars are for. Hungry: that’s what the bag of snacks is for. If we are traveling far enough that one tank of gas won’t do, then the resultant pit stop looks like something you’d see at Talladega raceways. I can not count the number of fights my wife and I have suffered revolving around our family trips, and I know it’s all my fault. I admit it, I AM ROAD TRAVEL COMPULSIVE. I wonder if AAA offers some kind of therapy meetings I could attend?
Actually, as I’ve grown older I’ve learned to relax more and it helps tremendously when you’re driving a car that just a year old and the worry of break-downs is minimal. Something else I’ve discovered that helps is having my wife (or older children) help out by reading my manuscript aloud as we drive, road-editing so-to-speak. The time really flies by that way.
Anyway, I’m doing all that I can to concentrate on other things, thinking about how much fun we’ll be having. I’m even trying to make arrangements to meet up with my Georgia-based blogging buddies while I’m there. You just can’t pass up opportunities like those when they present themselves, so if you’re in the Atlanta area and free that weekend…give me a shout.
But still…deep in the back of my mind… I wondering how I can shave another 5 minutes off our best time. How about you? What are your road trips like?
If you’re a regular reader of my blog, or have checked out my profile, you know that I grew up a military brat. That means a lot of long cross country trips with a family of six and the family dog all crammed in a station wagon (think National Lampoon’s Family Vacation). That was also back in the days when there were no portable DVD players (or DVD’s at all), no PSP’s or gameboys, and all that was available to help pass the time was to read, which I couldn’t do because I get sick when I read in a car. So what did I do? I became my father’s navigator. I kept track of what route we were taking, how far it was until the next city, if we were making good time or not, alternative paths to avoid heavy traffic, etc etc. There was no map I couldn’t decipher, except maybe Mississippi. What was a great way to pass the time when I was a kid became my curse as an adult, and a severe point of contention between me and my family.
I hate to say it, but I’m that person who’s extremely anal regarding a traveling timetable. Departure time: the earlier the better, preferably before the sun rises. If we are not ready to leave on-time then I’m pissed for at least a 100 miles. Potty break: that’s what mayo jars are for. Hungry: that’s what the bag of snacks is for. If we are traveling far enough that one tank of gas won’t do, then the resultant pit stop looks like something you’d see at Talladega raceways. I can not count the number of fights my wife and I have suffered revolving around our family trips, and I know it’s all my fault. I admit it, I AM ROAD TRAVEL COMPULSIVE. I wonder if AAA offers some kind of therapy meetings I could attend?
Actually, as I’ve grown older I’ve learned to relax more and it helps tremendously when you’re driving a car that just a year old and the worry of break-downs is minimal. Something else I’ve discovered that helps is having my wife (or older children) help out by reading my manuscript aloud as we drive, road-editing so-to-speak. The time really flies by that way.
Anyway, I’m doing all that I can to concentrate on other things, thinking about how much fun we’ll be having. I’m even trying to make arrangements to meet up with my Georgia-based blogging buddies while I’m there. You just can’t pass up opportunities like those when they present themselves, so if you’re in the Atlanta area and free that weekend…give me a shout.
But still…deep in the back of my mind… I wondering how I can shave another 5 minutes off our best time. How about you? What are your road trips like?
Character Blogfest – The Reveal
Introducing… my vision of Billy Bostic
I hope it was okay that I didn’t respond to any of your comments yesterday knowing that this was coming today. And for those of you who are like me and have trouble keeping all of the characters we were introduced to yesterday straight, I’ve included my scene again at the bottom of this post so you wouldn’t have to click back to refresh your memory.
I was surprised how many of you said Billy was skinny, with thinning hair. My Billy is in his mid-forties, but a teenager at heart. He is constantly bouncing around with nervous energy and quick to leap into action, unfortunately without giving much thought to the consequences. The look in those blue eyes is but a hint at his complete unpredictability. He is commonly boisterous and impossible to embarrass, unless you question his intellect. A jock in high school and college, he is mindful of how people view him, fearing to be seen as all brawn and no brain. It’s amazing that his chest can contain the size of his caring heart, and he is loyal to a fault.
I invite you to get to know Billy better when I eventually get my book FALLEN KNIGHT published. :)
Here’s the scene again.
“Just keep your hands where we can see them, and don’t make sudden moves.” Billy was attempting to make his normally high-pitched voice come-off as menacing, but instead he sounded more like Elmer Fudd.
The corner of Mr. Brown’s mouth curled into a crooked smile as he slid both his hands in his pockets.
“Dude, you don’t want to be doing that.”
Brown turned his gaze directly to Billy. “Really? A middle-age man using the word dude.”
Billy pumped the slide on the shotgun roughly, ejecting a cartridge that bounced against the wall then tumbled onto the tile floor. He pointed the barrel directly at Brown’s head.
“What did you do that for?” Kent asked, making no attempt to hide his irritation.
“Shut up Kent,” Billy said.
“I thought they just did that in the movies. You already had a live round in the chamber, so why did you have to waste a shell and pump in another one?” Kent continued.
“Will you shut up! I should have dropped you off in Lafayette,” Billy said angrily.
“And miss seeing you doing your Rambo impersonation?” Kent shot back.
“Will you two clam shut,” Raymond snapped. The sweat from his palms was making his own shotgun slippery.
“Has someone called the police yet?” Dianne interrupted the bickering.
“The phone’s on the end table just behind me Mark,” Lee instructed, still not taking his eyes off of their captive.
A soft chuckle from Mr. Brown caused them all to go silent. He lowered his head, swiveled it from side to side a couple times, and then started to rise from his chair.
Both Billy and Raymond took a half-step backwards and re-adjusted the shotguns against their shoulders.
“Mister…I’m not afraid to use this, and I won’t miss” Billy warned.
“That’s right…he’s been the paintball champion of Lafayette Parish for three years running now,” Kent added.
“You have some brave and loyal friends Mr. Hamilton,” Brown said, looking slowly around the room at the six of them.
“I consider myself lucky,” Lee responded.
“It’s a shame that you got them all killed.”
I hope it was okay that I didn’t respond to any of your comments yesterday knowing that this was coming today. And for those of you who are like me and have trouble keeping all of the characters we were introduced to yesterday straight, I’ve included my scene again at the bottom of this post so you wouldn’t have to click back to refresh your memory.
I was surprised how many of you said Billy was skinny, with thinning hair. My Billy is in his mid-forties, but a teenager at heart. He is constantly bouncing around with nervous energy and quick to leap into action, unfortunately without giving much thought to the consequences. The look in those blue eyes is but a hint at his complete unpredictability. He is commonly boisterous and impossible to embarrass, unless you question his intellect. A jock in high school and college, he is mindful of how people view him, fearing to be seen as all brawn and no brain. It’s amazing that his chest can contain the size of his caring heart, and he is loyal to a fault.
I invite you to get to know Billy better when I eventually get my book FALLEN KNIGHT published. :)
Here’s the scene again.
“Just keep your hands where we can see them, and don’t make sudden moves.” Billy was attempting to make his normally high-pitched voice come-off as menacing, but instead he sounded more like Elmer Fudd.
The corner of Mr. Brown’s mouth curled into a crooked smile as he slid both his hands in his pockets.
“Dude, you don’t want to be doing that.”
Brown turned his gaze directly to Billy. “Really? A middle-age man using the word dude.”
Billy pumped the slide on the shotgun roughly, ejecting a cartridge that bounced against the wall then tumbled onto the tile floor. He pointed the barrel directly at Brown’s head.
“What did you do that for?” Kent asked, making no attempt to hide his irritation.
“Shut up Kent,” Billy said.
“I thought they just did that in the movies. You already had a live round in the chamber, so why did you have to waste a shell and pump in another one?” Kent continued.
“Will you shut up! I should have dropped you off in Lafayette,” Billy said angrily.
“And miss seeing you doing your Rambo impersonation?” Kent shot back.
“Will you two clam shut,” Raymond snapped. The sweat from his palms was making his own shotgun slippery.
“Has someone called the police yet?” Dianne interrupted the bickering.
“The phone’s on the end table just behind me Mark,” Lee instructed, still not taking his eyes off of their captive.
A soft chuckle from Mr. Brown caused them all to go silent. He lowered his head, swiveled it from side to side a couple times, and then started to rise from his chair.
Both Billy and Raymond took a half-step backwards and re-adjusted the shotguns against their shoulders.
“Mister…I’m not afraid to use this, and I won’t miss” Billy warned.
“That’s right…he’s been the paintball champion of Lafayette Parish for three years running now,” Kent added.
“You have some brave and loyal friends Mr. Hamilton,” Brown said, looking slowly around the room at the six of them.
“I consider myself lucky,” Lee responded.
“It’s a shame that you got them all killed.”
Guest That Character Blogfest
Let me introduce to you…Billy Bostic. He is a character in both the books I have written. Although he is a relatively minor character, I have a lot of fun writing him. This brief scene is from my first novel.
“Just keep your hands where we can see them, and don’t make sudden moves.” Billy was attempting to make his normally high-pitched voice come-off as menacing, but instead he sounded more like Elmer Fudd.
The corner of Mr. Brown’s mouth curled into a crooked smile as he slid both his hands in his pockets.
“Dude, you don’t want to be doing that.”
Brown turned his gaze directly to Billy. “Really? A middle-age man using the word dude.”
Billy pumped the slide on the shotgun roughly, ejecting a cartridge that bounced against the wall then tumbled onto the tile floor. He pointed the barrel directly at Brown’s head.
“What did you do that for?” Kent asked, making no attempt to hide his irritation.
“Shut up Kent,” Billy said.
“I thought they just did that in the movies. You already had a live round in the chamber, so why did you have to waste a shell and pump in another one?” Kent continued.
“Will you shut up! I should have dropped you off in Lafayette,” Billy said angrily.
“And miss seeing you doing your Rambo impersonation?” Kent shot back.
“Will you two clam shut,” Raymond snapped. The sweat from his palms was making his own shotgun slippery.
“Has someone called the police yet?” Dianne interrupted the bickering.
“The phone’s on the end table just behind me Mark,” Lee instructed, still not taking his eyes off of their captive.
A soft chuckle from Mr. Brown caused them all to go silent. He lowered his head, swiveled it from side to side a couple times, and then started to rise from his chair.
Both Billy and Raymond took a half-step backwards and re-adjusted the shotguns against their shoulders.
“Mister…I’m not afraid to use this, and I won’t miss” Billy warned.
“That’s right…he’s been the paintball champion of Lafayette Parish for three years running now,” Kent added.
“You have some brave and loyal friends Mr. Hamilton,” Brown said, looking slowly around the room at the six of them.
“I consider myself lucky,” Lee responded.
“It’s a shame that you got them all killed.”
That’s it. Who do you see when you picture Billy? Make sure you also check out the other Character Blogfest stories at Jen’s place.
“Just keep your hands where we can see them, and don’t make sudden moves.” Billy was attempting to make his normally high-pitched voice come-off as menacing, but instead he sounded more like Elmer Fudd.
The corner of Mr. Brown’s mouth curled into a crooked smile as he slid both his hands in his pockets.
“Dude, you don’t want to be doing that.”
Brown turned his gaze directly to Billy. “Really? A middle-age man using the word dude.”
Billy pumped the slide on the shotgun roughly, ejecting a cartridge that bounced against the wall then tumbled onto the tile floor. He pointed the barrel directly at Brown’s head.
“What did you do that for?” Kent asked, making no attempt to hide his irritation.
“Shut up Kent,” Billy said.
“I thought they just did that in the movies. You already had a live round in the chamber, so why did you have to waste a shell and pump in another one?” Kent continued.
“Will you shut up! I should have dropped you off in Lafayette,” Billy said angrily.
“And miss seeing you doing your Rambo impersonation?” Kent shot back.
“Will you two clam shut,” Raymond snapped. The sweat from his palms was making his own shotgun slippery.
“Has someone called the police yet?” Dianne interrupted the bickering.
“The phone’s on the end table just behind me Mark,” Lee instructed, still not taking his eyes off of their captive.
A soft chuckle from Mr. Brown caused them all to go silent. He lowered his head, swiveled it from side to side a couple times, and then started to rise from his chair.
Both Billy and Raymond took a half-step backwards and re-adjusted the shotguns against their shoulders.
“Mister…I’m not afraid to use this, and I won’t miss” Billy warned.
“That’s right…he’s been the paintball champion of Lafayette Parish for three years running now,” Kent added.
“You have some brave and loyal friends Mr. Hamilton,” Brown said, looking slowly around the room at the six of them.
“I consider myself lucky,” Lee responded.
“It’s a shame that you got them all killed.”
That’s it. Who do you see when you picture Billy? Make sure you also check out the other Character Blogfest stories at Jen’s place.
