The Mistletoe Miracle

(author's note:  I'm in Prompt Club, where we get a sentence or first line of something and we have to write about 1000 words on it.  This particular one was "when a distraction causes a miracle. Merry Christmas!

The Mistletoe Miracle

squeee!  Christmas!

“It’s his fault, you know,” Ronni proclaimed.

“What’s his fault, exactly? The divorce? Or the fact that he stopped paying child support?” Candace Mahoney juggled her three year old son and her purse.

“How about both?”

The two young women laughed.

“I like both. Both is good.”  Candace kissed little Ben on the cheek.  “But even if I can’t blame my job loss on him, Christmas is going to be rough.  Not to mention that big heating bill’s coming up. How could one tiny apartment generate such a high bill?”

 “I’m keeping him in daycare with you, Ronni.  Next to me, you’re the most stable thing he’s got.  I’ll find a job soon, and I’ll still have my spot.”  They said their goodbyes for the night. 

Candace did have a tiny bit of money set aside.  It would be helpful if her ex would pay child support, though.  He bounced from job to job.  The second he knew his pay was being garnished for child support; he’d quit and find a new one. 

A prince among men, that one.   What she needed was a Christmas miracle.

***

“That’ll be $15.21.”

Gah.  Well, she had to have milk. And laundry soap. And toilet paper, for God’s sake.  She handed over the cash.  It left her just enough to put gas in her car—guess she and Ben would be eating at her mother’s house this week for dinner.

Candace put away the meager supplies when they got home.  After their light supper Ben played in her room with his toy cash register as Candace cleaned her closet out.  She was making a pile of what could go to the consignment shop.  She figured while she waited on responses from the slew of resumes she had sent out, she could sell some of her unused clothing, accessories and shoes; perhaps she could make a few dollars that way.

With a sigh, she tossed a dressy gold lame’ dress on the “to go” pile.  She thought for a minute, fingered the material, and then grabbed it back out of the pile.

No, she thought.  It’s the one thing I have in my closet that I would wear if I ever go on a date.

As an out -of-work single mother, she wasn’t quite date material.

But she could feel attractive, right?

Grabbing the dress, she said, “BenBen, Mommy’s going to try this dress on, ok? I’ll be right back.  Just keep playing with your toys.”

“I’m playing bank, mommy.”

“I know,” she called from the bathroom.  She shucked off her flannel shirt and leggings and slid the thin gold dress over her head.

Oh. Oh. It still fit like a dream, clinging to her svelte body like a second skin.  It’s svelte because I can’t afford to swing through the drive through at McDonalds or Dairy Queen any more.

She did a few steps in front of the mirror.  She’d ask Ben to dance; that would be fun.

“Ben!” she sang, as she sashayed back into the bedroom.  “Let’s dance, baby…”

Ben was sitting on the floor, with her old brown purse in his lap and a half eaten roll of Certs in his grip.  His jaw worked furiously as he chewed the candy as fast as he could before Candace could take it away.

“Ben! No!  That’s old and icky! Spit that out!”

That’s what I get for being distracted.  Turn my back for one second and look what happens.

“I play bank, mommy. I find money.”

“Money? Where?” Candace held her hand out for Ben to spit the old candy into.  He did so.

“Playing bank, huh?” she ruffled his hair. “I’d like to have four dollars, please.” Ben loved a chance to show off his counting skills.  He proudly counted out three store receipts and a movie stub into her hand.  “One, two, free, four.”

Candace’s heart swelled.  What a big boy he was.  “That’s right!  Nice counting!”

“Five.”

Candace was turning to throw the receipts and candy into the garbage.  “Five?  What else do you have, Ben?”

“More money.”

He handed her the “money”.  It was a “Merry Mistletoe” lottery scratch off card that she had never scratched.

“Where’d you find this?” she asked Ben.

“In the purse,” he replied.

“And I never scratched this?  Hm.”  Probably not a winner.  Most of them weren’t, or were at most a $2 win.  Still in her dress, she carried Ben back to the kitchen for a snack.  After settling him into his booster seat with some graham crackers and milk, she leaned over the counter and began to scratch the play areas of the card.

The very first two amounts were $500,000.  Oh, God. That would be a miracle.  Wouldn’t have to worry about where the next meal was coming from—or the new brakes—could  take some time off to be with Ben.

She scratched the next two, revealing $40 and $2. Now that’s more my speed. Two more squares to go.  Her coin scratched the gray spot. $2.  That meant she had a chance of winning either a) nothing, b) $2, or c) $500,000.

She was surprised to find her hands shaking.  People like her won $2. Not $500,000.  Might as well not even get her hopes up.

Nervous, she went to the sink and filled her tea kettle, threw a tea bag into a cup, then sat back down at the table.  I’ll start from the right side and scratch left.

00

This tension was delicious.  Probably for nothing, but delicious anyway.

She called the gas station down the street and asked if the “Merry Mistletoe” game had ended and was told it was ending in a few weeks. 

So the ticket’s still valid.

Scratch. Another zero.

She bit her lip.  It’s probably $1,000, she thought.  The teapot whistled.  She jumped up and with shaking hands she poured the hot water over the waiting teabag.

Why am I doing this to myself?  It’s not a winner.

“Mommy, want to play bank?”

Recklessly, Candace scraped off the rest of the scratch area.  Her heart sang as the final amount was revealed.  Happy tear drops splashed down like diamonds onto her gold dress.

 “Yes, baby,” she choked out.  “Let’s play bank.”

First times are magical.

And this one was a biggie.

Guess where we were the other day, me and my sister and co-author. Just guess. 

You'll never guess so I'll just tell you.

We were selling our books! Printed books. Real books, with covers front and back, and an author picture, and lovely cream paper. Pages that you can fan and smell, which speaking only for myself I have done repeatedly.



Squee!!  Here we are selling honest to goodness books!

In Print hosted a book fair at the Mendelssohn in Rockford on October 25 (which, by the way, was yours truly's birthday, which is why I have a birthday badge on my boob). It was the first time that Jen and I had been able to set up shop with physical books that we could sign and sell.

There were over 30 authors attending that day, and we were right in the thick of it.

We were ready.

It was a very long-awaited, exciting day. Jen, at one point, said that I was so animated that she was just "the string to my balloon." Yes. That pretty much summed it up. 

Can you blame me? It was my birthday. I was selling books with my sister. We had a cool looking, witchy banner. We had (thanks to my media specialist sister) book stands. We had oversized post cards with the names of our books, as well as a description and QR code to scan on your phone. We had business cards and special book signing pens, thanks to Kelly Epperson. We had a beautiful tablecloth that matched the colors of our book covers.

Bull Garlington wandered over and told us how interesting our cover was for Cat, Charmed. (another squee in order here, since he's such a cool dude.)

We also had a Halloween candy dish full of chocolate. That was magical too, in that it kept disappearing.

We had two Whitfield Witch mug giveaways; people who signed up for our fledgling newsletter with their email address had a chance at winning. Winners were Sharon Boehlefeld and Margie Seger (congratulations!) and we also have a great start for an email list.

My son and husband volunteered all day long. My daughter filled in as booth babe for "Birth That Book" Kelly Epperson, who had a prior commitment, and my other daughter and her fiancé came with my granddaughter, who posed for pictures and got to visit and color in the Kids' Zone.



Can I color in this one, Grandma?
No. No, darling, you cannot.
 

We sold a respectable amount of books. We met some cool local and cool not so local authors. We signed, and chatted, and nibbled on Halloween candy and in general, had a spectacular day.

By the time the last table was folded up, we were so exhausted that we headed home for sweatpants and my kids all came over for pizza. And later, there was a whiskey on the rocks.

We know what to expect now for the next one, and we're ready for that one, too, books in hand.

Free for the weekend, Baylyn, Bewitched!!

Hello delightful readers!!

Guess what.  This weekend through Sunday night, Baylyn, Bewitched is free on Amazon.com and Smashwords!  Not only THAT, Cat, Charmed is also 99 cents everywhere.  Continue reading for a little snippet from Baylyn, Bewitched:

“Baylyn, you have to sit down if you want me to put your hair up.”  Cat drawled as she reached a little unsteadily for her wine glass.

Baylyn grabbed the magazine picture featuring her choice and sat down on the chair in her bedroom.  “I wish I had time to get my nails done too.”

“Don’t worry about it.  Your last polish color was too red anyway.  What was that called, Summer Slut?  It’s probably a good thing you didn’t have time.”

Baylyn laughed.  “You are such a bitch.  It was called Poppy Daydreams.  And look who’s talking…you with your Smothered Evening eye shadow.”

Cat paused in her deft movements to tug Baylyn’s hair a little.  “Probably not a good idea to insult me right now.”

“Fine.”  Baylyn grumbled.  “You look wonderful, by the way.”  Cat was wearing a dress a little outside of her comfort zone.  She of dark clothes and straight hair and sensible shoes was actually wearing a fitted royal blue dress and low heels.   

“It’s a pick me up.  Things kind of fizzled out with the paranormal guy.”

“Ah.  His loss, Cat.”

“Whatever.  Not worth talking about.  What are you wearing tonight?”

Cat finished Baylyn’s simple yet elegant hairstyle.  They had decided on a slight pouf with a casual braid around it, and the final result was chic and classy.

“I thought I’d wear that black dress I wore to that thing a couple months ago.”

“Come on, Baylyn.  You can do better than that.  Go for the glamour, girl!  Half the town’s going to be at the Whitfield Gala.  You know all the women love to dress up and show off.”

“Declan’s probably not even going to be there, Cat.  And seriously, it’s the Whitfield Gala.  The most exciting thing that happens every year is that Bob Tucker from Tucker Travel gets drunk and tries to hit on Margaret from Sahara Desserts but she’s too busy pouting over not winning a door prize to notice.”

 

Baylyn, Bewitched excerpt

Below follows an excerpt from Baylyn, Bewitched...the first book in the Whitfield Witch series.

The conversational tone he used belied his words.  “I couldn’t stay away.  I tried.  I turned off the radio so I wouldn’t be disturbed by songs that made me think of you.  I forced myself to work on dry, boring contracts.  I did sit ups.  I did pushups.  But Baylyn…” He let go of the chair.  “I couldn’t get you out of my head.” 

He advanced toward her.  “I kept hearing your voice.  Your voice, saying my name.”  He took another step, catlike, stalking her.  “Over, and over, and over.  Softly.  Declan.  Declan.” 

Her mouth went completely dry and the thudding in her chest sped up to complement the roaring in her ears. 

“As a matter of fact, I could feel you, calling to me.  Beckoning me.  Drawing me here.  Well, I listened, Baylyn.  I’m here.  I had to come.  What, exactly, do you want with me?”

Halloween can't come fast enough for this gal.

Excerpt four from Cat, Charmed!

We have gotten really great feedback from people for putting out little samples of our book.  Those wanting more, here's your wish!  From Cat, Charmed, available on Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, and Smashwords.  If you're looking for something whimsical and magical to read this weekend, or at work when no one's looking, here's the story for you!

I want Halloween stockings like Cat has!

Cat assembled everything for the spell.  The love spell, her inner witch whispered.  A love spell to find not only Mr. Right or even Mr. Right Now, but Mr. Right Now and Forever.  She had taken notes on how to do it if the need should arise; she took notes on everything she was supposed to in order to make her own grimoire.  However, while taking these notes in particular, she was just a little more scrupulous and wrote them down very, very carefully.  Just in case.

Are you sure you want to do this?  She took a couple of deep breaths to calm her nerves and shaking hands. 

The list of things she needed wasn’t long…a foot tall white candle, which she was supposed to mold into the shape of a man.  The legs she figured out pretty well, the arms looked a little stumpy, like brontosaurus arms.  Should I make those bigger?  Does the size of the arms on the candle relate to the size of the arms on the man?  Did the same go for all the parts of the body…everywhere?

Cat, Charmed...third excerpt

Be ready for this one.  It might fog up your computer screen just a little bit.

naughty Cat.

Here's the third installment of Cat, Charmed.  Buy it today at Amazon.com! 

***

Seduce him.  This would be new for her.

As she leaned forward now, holding his hand on her cheek, she used her other hand to slowly unbutton her white blouse.  Closer, closer still his mouth came to hers, until she could feel the warm current of breath on her lips.  She gave him one last, lazy smile before leaning to settle her mouth on his.  She closed her eyes.

And was lost.

At the touch of his strong lips moving gently on hers, she could feel the shift of power from being the seducer to being the one seduced and felt a brief frisson of nervousness that was quickly snuffed out when his lips found her ear, then her neck, and suddenly her unbuttoned shirt was sliding off one shoulder then the other and then she was in just her camisole and skirt on the bed before him. 

The light from the nightstand was dim and that was just fine with her.  She could barely form a thought as she became a puddle of feelings.  Her hands came up to cradle his head to her neck as he pulled down one strap of her cami, nibbling every inch of her skin as he went.  She felt around him for the bottom of his shirt, desperately lifting and pulling until he took hold and pulled it over his head, barely leaving her for a moment.

Both of her cami straps were down now.  He was shirtless.   He slid his hands up her arms to cup her face and kissed her hard.  She was melting, melting with the intense feelings, and they were both completely out of breath.  He suddenly pulled away.

“Are you sure about this?   Are you sure you’re ready to…?  Because woman, the things I’m going to do to you…”

Second excerpt from Cat, Charmed

So, sure, anyone could put out the prologue of their book as a teaser.  We did, after all.

But what about those authors who live on the edge?  Who think, nay KNOW, that they could pull material from the MIDDLE of their novel to tease prospective readers' palates?  Especially those of you who enjoy snappy, witty dialogue with a magical, mystical twist.  Well, fasten your seatbelts.



Our jaws hurt from all that smiling.  It's just not natural.

Here's the excerpt de jour from two up and coming authors:  (us, silly.)

She rolled over onto her back and held the phone up above her face with two hands.  Want to see you?  A warm frizzle of excitement ran through her.  That sounded promising.  She rolled back over and texted back.

Cat:  I’m home now.

His response came almost immediately.

Devin:  What you doing?

Cat:  Waiting for you to want to see me.

There was a pause, probably only a minute or so, where Cat wished there was a recall button.  Why would she say something like that?  What kind of girl was she turning into?

Devin:  Oh, I want to see you.  All of you.

Her insides felt as if she had swigged liquor, warm pooling in places newly awakened.  Her phone pinged another message.

Devin:  What are you wearing?

She looked down at her comfies and typed.

Cat:  Silk pajamas, matching undies.  Just took a hot bath.

Devin:  What color?

Cat:  What color do you wish they were?

Devin:  You’re killing me.  I can only imagine how soft they feel.

Cat:  Come on over and feel it yourself.

Devin:  I’ve been in your driveway.  Open the door.

Cat sat straight up.  Her hair pins had started falling out as she had rolled around on the bed.  Her yoga pants had crept up; her thick socks had pulled down, making her feet look twenty inches long.  She heard his soft knock on the door.

Oh, crap.

Silk pajamas?  Not even close.  This is what happened to dishonest people, she thought, as she ran into the bathroom, yanking the blackhead strips from her nose, wincing in pain.  She grabbed her robe, cupped her hand and smelled her breath.

Oh, yes, so sexy, she thought, running downstairs.  She hoped Devin could take a joke. 

She ran back into the bedroom, slipping a bit on the wood floor, grabbed her phone and started down the stairs.  Should she tell him she wasn’t ready?  Take some time to look a little more, well, presentable?

She could hear his gentle knock and texted.

Cat:  Costume change.  Be there in a moment.

Costume change?  Ugh.  For someone who liked to be in control of things, this did not feel like control. At all.  A hair pin tinked as it fell onto the floor.

Standing in front of her door, she looked down at herself.  Well, at least the hot bath was true.  Putting her hand on the doorknob, she began to turn it.  Then stopped.

Magic.

Laughing, she closed her eyes, imagined what she wanted to look like and focused.

 

 

Want to read more?  Of course you do.  What did she change into?  What was she wearing when she finally opened the door for Devin? 

 

Cat, Charmed, is available on Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords.

 

You know you want to. 

 ##

 

  

 

Excerpt from Cat, Charmed

“What do women see in him?  Why the big fuss over him?  Geez.”  Cat Hendricks leaned back from peeking at Devin Hughes sitting further down the bench seat next to his brother.  She took a sip of her hot cocoa and shivered, pulling the stadium blanket a little higher up on her lap.  It had been a beautiful and sunny day in Whitfield, with a November snap in the air.  She pulled her cap down a little further over her ears, and then waved a hand over her cocoa, spelling it with delicious peppermint schnapps. 

The thought of spending one more night at home watching HGTV was so unappealing that when her best friend Baylyn Travers asked if she wanted to accompany her and her boyfriend Declan Hughes to the Whitfield High School senior football game, she accepted immediately.  Anything to get out of the house for a while.

Although she didn’t especially like football, the thought of spending some time around people out in the fresh air beat out staying at home.  However, she had no idea that Declan’s gorgeous brother Devin would be there.  Sitting three people down from her.  Gah.

Two very attractive women sitting directly in front of and below them had been giggling and whispering to each other, then not so subtly pointing to Devin.  Cat watched as one winked right at him.  Cat rolled her eyes and nudged Bay.

“Gag.  Is it like this all the time?  Women throwing themselves at his feet?”

Baylyn took her friend’s mug and topped it off with hot cocoa from the thermos and whispered back to her.  “You mean Devin?  Cat, he’s really not that bad.  So he’s dated a lot of women.  That doesn’t make him…”

“A playboy?  Yes, it does.”

“It’s just what some people say about him.  Once you get to know him he’s a really nice guy.”  Bay got a speculative gleam in her eye.  “Maybe you should get to know him a little bit better.”

Cat’s jaw dropped open.  “Are you kidding me?  Him?  He’s not my type at all.  You know that.  He’s the one who told me…”

“…to get the stick out of your ass and loosen up.  Yes, I know.  You’ve told me the story a thousand times.  Methinks the lady doth protest too much.  I bet you secretly have a crush on him.”  Bay oofed as Cat elbowed her.  “Cat, seriously.  He’s employed, he’s good looking, and he’s funny.”

“Not a chance.  He’s an unrefined caveman.”

Despite all her protestations, Cat couldn’t deny that he was a good looking caveman.  A charming one.  Probably the nicest looking caveman she’d seen. 

And as long as she was admitting things, she sort of, kind of, had maybe hoped Devin Hughes would be at the game tonight too.

UW Writer's Conference 2014

Let me start by saying that my sister Jen Starkman and I had so much fun at the UW writer's conference this year. We had never been to one before.  Although we had both wanted to attend last year, my daughter was 9 months pregnant and yes I know Madison's only a short hour away if she had gone into labor while I was there, but I wasn't taking any chances so I didn't go.  Jenny missed in solidarity with me.

However, this year was a whole different ballgame.  We were free.  Unfettered.  Ready to go experience everything it had to experience and WOW, did this conference deliver.

Keynote speakers like Nathan Bransford and Michael Perry.  Workshops given by Kathy Fong Yoneda and Jackie Mitchard and Kristin Oakley.  Wandering through the room set up for people to sell their books. Networking with agents & small bookstore owners, trading business cards with everyone, meeting people from as far away as Australia (Lisa and Ion, talking to you) and of course having overpriced drinks with friends.  Pitching our first book Baylyn, Bewitched, to an agent who seemed to enjoy what she heard and requested contact information and the first ten pages of our book.

Jenny and I were asked to be on the success panel this year to talk about epublishing.

us, trying to be all cool and such, and failing miserably because we were worried about salad in our teeth

What an honor that was, and we found that afterward, we were both stopped together and separately by people with questions like, "What's it like to work with a partner?"  "How hard is the formatting?" "Is it hard to work with your sister?" etc etc.  I think between Jen and I we were stopped by no less than ten people. Of course, some of those stopping us just wanted to giggle over how much Jen and I look alike.

frankly, I don't think there's a resemblance.

We arrived Thursday night and didn't get home until last night.  We stayed up late reading and laughing. With two queen beds, we were able to hog the bed all to ourselves although it didn't do much good, as I got hardly any sleep Thursday and Saturday night (thanks, hot flashes) and I don't believe Jenny got more than 7 hours of sleep total.  It could be that someone else in the room was snoring keeping her awake a little bit, perhaps due to a whiskey assist.

Saturday night we ate at the Great Dane restaurant in downtown Madison on the square.  It was delicious and the craft beer was pretty darn tasty.  Saturday night I almost ate my flash drive.  Jenny and I laughed so hard that I almost really did choke to death on a piece of peanut.

In my defense, it wasn't any bigger than the m&m peanuts.  And such a pretty blue.  Doesn't it look delicious? 

All in all, it was one of the best weekends I've ever had.  The sister time I got was awesome and will hopefully tide me over til July.  We plotted and planned and discussed everything we had heard, compared notes from when we split up during the day to attend different workshops, and laid out groundwork for the next series and more importantly, the next book in the Whitfield Witch series, entitled Elise, Evermore.

I was inspired.  I was overwhelmed.  I was happy and relaxed and rejuvenated.

Can't wait til next year.

Deleted scene from Cat, Charmed...

Later that night, to take her mind off things, Cat decided she would try a new spell.  Another witch had suggested getting a group together and practicing some skills the next time they met.  Cat was tired of being the newbie.  She wouldn’t become proficient in anything unless she practiced.   The fact that she was feeling a little desperate, a little dangerous, only made what she was about to do a little more exciting. 

I look like a ninja, she thought.  This is hysterical.  Cat stood outside in the cool, pitch black evening, dressed in black bicycle shorts and a black t-shirt, holding a slim short broom she had picked up at the dollar store on the way home.

 

Cat's broom.  You have to find your own.

 

She had looked high and low for a foolproof, trustworthy spell to fly on a broom.  Finally she settled on three of the most reputable-looking ones.  They were all so similar it shouldn’t matter which one she eventually used, right?  

 

She ignored the warnings on all three that the spells should only be used under mentor supervision until competent.  Pah.  She’d been working hard on her witchcraft.  She was getting so much better.  It would be fine.

She closed her eyes, held tightly to her broom, and muttered: 

fly safe and fly fast

as treetops whiz past

keep me airborne I ask

 with this spell I cast.

The broom shuddered and kicked with barely restrained power and rocketed up into the night sky, dragging a squealing Cat along with it.

 

Later, at the immediate care center, the nurse took her vitals and gently cleaned up the scratches on her face and arms, then asked her how the injuries occurred.

“I fell off my broom while I was flying,” Cat deadpanned.  She winced as a particularly painful scratch on her forehead was attended to.

“Did you say the right spell?” the nurse asked.

Thinking the nurse was joking, just playing along, Cat decided to play it straight as well.

“Well, I thought so, but maybe I shouldn’t have rushed my first time.  It was a rough landing."

The nurse’s hand stilled, then briskly pulled up the right sleeve of her own shirt, exposing a long, thin white line of a scar.

“No one does well on their first broom ride.”  She gave Cat a rueful grin, then scribbled something on a small tablet and handed a square of paper to Cat.  “Say this one next time and you won’t leave a big, deep witch-shaped furrow on the football field.”

Cat looked at her, shocked.  “I never said where I landed.  How did you know?”

“My son plays football in high school.  I recognize white field chalk when I see it, and you had it all over your forehead.”  She patted Cat’s knee.  “Plus, I follow the scanner on WeCoven and they reported it.  I was wondering if someone would show up here injured.”

Cat's cheeks pinked, but she was curious.  “Have you ever done it?”

The nurse looked thoughtful, as if remembering something.  “I tried a very long time ago.  It wasn’t for me.”

“But flying on a broom sounded fun.  Easy.  Faster than walking, that’s for sure.”

“Can you run?”  The nurse was writing on her chart.

What kind of a question was that?  Everyone can run.  “Of course I can run.”

“Do you run everywhere, or only when you need to?”

“I try to never run, if I can help it.”

“Why wouldn’t you run all the time if it helps you go faster?”  At Cat’s sudden looko of understanding, the nurse smiled.  “Just because a skill is there doesn’t mean you have to use it.”

She handed Cat another paper, this one a quick spell for topical scratch removal, then smiled.

“Can I give you some advice?”

Cat nodded dumbly.

“Next time, take a buddy.”

 

 

***this book is currently with our Beta readers.  So far we have four enthusiastic thumbs up, which is a good sign.  The tiniest of revisions, which is also a good sign.  Then onto formatting, which I don't like but is a necessary evil.  Cat, Charmed will be out within two weeks, barring any unforeseen circumstances.

 

***"But this is cute.  Why isn't this in the story?"  Kill your darlings, they say.  Didn't fit, didn't advance the story, didn't belong.  But you, readers, you can share it with us.