Monday, 20 December 2010
Christmas and the Writer
Okay, so the UK has come to a practical standstill because of the snowfall and plunging temperatures (-9 C today), and what have I been doing for the last two hours? Writing, of course! I must admit it most likely is not the best stuff I have ever written having being sat on the sofa with my dog's head in my lap and my daughters and husband watching 'How to Train Your Dragon' on TV - but hey, writing is writing!
I am as ready as I can be for Christmas and because of the snow, i'm thinking what hasn't arrived (one present for a friend) isn't coming, and what we haven't got in (most likely enough white wine!), then there's not a lot I can do about it and I really do not care when I look out the window. Brrrr!!!!
What are you plans over Christmas? Do you plan to write? Rest? I'd love to hear from you.
In the meantime, let me leave you with an excerpt from my January release, 'Getting It Right This Time' - enjoy! Oh, and don't forget to cast your vote on my poll - i need this information asap!
Kate pushed open the door on the salon and cursed the jingling bell announcing her arrival. No doubt Jo was ready to kill her. She took three steps inside when Jo shot out the back room, lunged forward with the panache of an Olympic gymnast and grabbed Kate’s upper arms.
“He came back!” she cried.
“What? Who?” Kate stared at her, completely bewildered by the look of pure ecstasy on her assistant’s face.
“Sexy Mark Johnston.”
A rush of heat surged over Kate’s body--only to be replaced with ice-cold perspiration bursting onto her upper lip. “What? Why?”
Jo squealed and clapped her hands together. “He brought you something.”
Kate’s echo died on her lips when Jo dragged her over to the payment counter. “Look!”
Pale pink ribbons were tied around the handles of the biscuit-colored picnic basket and a wide pink and white gingham ribbon circled its center. Both of the dual lids were ajar, one revealing a dozen pink carnations, the other a bottle of white wine so chilled the perspiration slid in occasional rivulets down its neck.
“Why would he do this?” Kate whispered, taking another step closer as a smile tugged at her lips.
She smoothed her hand over the surface of one of the handles and inhaled the aroma of freshly baked bread seeping from inside. Her stolen Weightwatcher lunch groaned inside her stomach.
“Open it. Open it,” Jo said, bouncing from one foot to the other.
“Oh, for goodness sake,” Kate huffed, yet dismally failing to curb her stupidly insistent grin.
Sighing theatrically, she lifted one of the lids and her breath caught. He’d bought her favorite granary bread, along with delicate slices of Parma ham and a thick wedge of creamy brie. Tears stung at her eyes, and she swallowed the ball of emotion in her throat.
“Oh, Mark.” She said the words on an exhalation as she carefully lifted a crisp white napkin to reveal two of the most delectable mini strawberry and fresh cream tarts she’d ever seen. Her absolute weakness.
She slowly closed the lid and re-arranged her expression into what she hoped was careless nonchalance before turning around. “When did he leave?”
“About ten minutes ago,” Jo said breathlessly. “Can you believe this? Isn’t it lovely?”
“What did he say?”
Her assistant frowned. “Aren’t you happy? Don’t you think it’s romantic?”
“Jo, focus. What did he say?”
Her blue eyes clouded, clearly displaying her disproval of Kate’s seemingly unappreciative response to such a thoughtful gesture. Kate smiled inwardly, knowing full well she’d be the topic of conversation between Jo and her friends at the wine bar later. Finally averting her gaze, Jo feigned interest in the bottles of lotion lining the shelves behind the counter.
“He said he was sorry he’d missed you and put that basket on the counter and then asked if he could borrow a pen and some paper.”
Kate stared at her turned back. “What for?”
She swiveled round. “To write you a note. The guy is obviously love-struck and you’re standing there as though he looks like Shrek after a mud-bath.”
Merry Christmas to you all,
Posted by Rachel Brimble at 07:19