Showing posts with label #Romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #Romance. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 24, 2024

Canadian Authors--New Brunswick by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

  

https://books2read.com/Romancing-the-Klondike

 

https://books2read.com/Rushing-the-Klondike

https://books2read.com/Sleuthing-the-Klondike

https://bwlpublishing.ca/donaldson-yarmey-joan/

     I am a proud Canadian author of over twenty fiction and non-fiction books in my long writing career. But I am just one of thousands of published writers from this huge country. Canada has had a long and illustrious history of producing world renown authors and books going all the way back to the 18th century.

     Frances Moore was born in England in 1724. She was a well-known poet and playwright in England before she and her husband, Reverend John Brooke moved to Quebec City in 1763, for John to take up the post of army chaplain. During her time there Frances wrote The History of Emily Montague, a love story set in the newly formed Quebec province.

     The story is told through the voices of her characters by way of personal letters between the two. This is known as epistolary (of letters) type of writing and it was popular during the1700s in Europe. The Brookes’ returned to England in 1768 and the novel was published in 1769 the London bookseller, James Dodsley. The History of Emily Montague was the first novel written in what is now Canada and the first with a Canadian setting. Frances died in 1789.

 

New Brunswick

Julia Catherine Beckwith was born on March 10, 1796 in Fredericton, New Brunswick. Her mother, Julie-Louise Le Brun, was from a wealthy French family that had immigrated to Canada in the 17th and 18th centuries. Her father, Nehemiah Beckwith, moved from New England in 1780 and owned a successful ship building business. Julie-Louise had given up her Roman Catholic faith when she married, but Julia spent a lot of her early life visiting her French cousins in Nova Scotia and Quebec. One of her cousins became a nun of the Hotel-Dieu in Montreal.

Her mother’s previous religious background was the source of the idea for her first novel StUrsula’s convent, or the nun of Canada. She wrote it in Fredericton when she was seventeen and it had complicated plots, romance, suspense, and heroic adventures. It was not to be published for almost ten years.

     In 1820, in order to lessen the burden on her mother after her father’s death by drowning, Julia moved in with her aunt in Kingston, Upper Canada (now Ontario). She married George Henry Hart on January 3, 1822. George was a bookbinder and Julia operated a boarding house for girls. Her novel was published in 1824 by Hugh C. Thomson as St. Ursula’s Convent or, The Nun of Canada; Containing Scenes from Real Life. According to Beckwith’s wishes, the author was listed as anonymous. It was the first work of fiction written by any man or woman who had been born in Canada and the first to be published in what is now Canada. Julia Beckwith is considered Canada’s first novelist.

     Julia and her husband moved to Rochester, NY, in 1824 where her second novel, Tonnewonte; or, the adopted son of America, was published and portrayed as having been written by an American. It, too, had suspense and depth of feeling, but as some critics said it had the same stilted expression and moral overtones as her first novel. Besides entertainment value, Julia wrote to express attitudes toward society.

     By 1831 Julia and George had six children and they moved back to Fredericton. There she contributed to the weekly paper, the New Brunswick Reporter. She also wrote her third book Edith (or The Doom), which was never published.

     Julia Catherine Beckwith died in Fredericton, New Brunswick on November 28, 1867, the age of 71.

 

Raymond Fraser was born on May 8, 1941 in Chatham (now Miramichi), New Brunswick, the youngest of three children. His older sisters left home and his mother died when he as a teenager. He spent a lot of his alone time reading. He attended St. Thomas University in Fredericton. There he played sports in his freshman year and was co-editor of the student literary magazine Tom-Tom in his junior year.

     He worked as a teacher for a year then moved to Montreal in 1965 where he and poet Leroy Johnson created the literary magazine Intercourse: Contemporary Canadian Writing (1966-1971). He was also one of the founders of the Montreal Story Tellers Fiction Performance Group, which put on readings in local high schools. To earn money while writing he worked as an editor, chief staff writer, and a freelance writer for the tabloid newspapers. Fraser’s first book of short stories, The Black Horse Tavern, was published in 1973.

     Raymond Fraser and his wife, Sharon, travelled through Europe during the 1970s. The Struggle Outside came out in 1975 and The Bonnonbridge Musicians in 1978. The Bonnonbridge Musicians was a finalist for the 1978 Governor General Literary Award for Fiction. He finally settled in Fredericton and began writing full time. He also was the Writer-In-Residence at the Fredericton High School.

     Raymond Fraser wrote a total of eight books of poetry and fourteen novels and short story collections, five of which were listed in Atlantic Canada’s 100 Greatest Books (2009). He also received the first Lieutenant-Governor’s Award for High Achievement in the Arts that year. He became a member of the Order of New Brunswick in 2012 and received an honorary Doctor of Letters degree from St. Thomas University in 2016.

     Fraser died in Fredericton on October 22, 2018, at the age of 77 from cancer.

Tuesday, October 24, 2023

Writing With My Sister, Gwen by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

 

 

 

https://books2read.com/Single-Bells
https://books2read.com/The-Twelve-Dates-of-Christmas

https://bwlpublishing.ca/donaldson-yarmey-joan/

I live in Edmonton, Alberta, and my sister, Gwen Donaldson lives in Vancouver B.C. Together we have written two holiday/comedy/romance novels. Gwen has been married three times and has had many romantic relationships. I, on the other hand, spent eight years in my first marriage and am up to forty plus years in my second. So we say that Gwen is the one who had done the research for our novels and I am the one who has turned that research into a manuscript.

For our first one, The Twelve Dates of Christmas, Gwen recorded some of her experiences of going out with men she met on dating sites and I transcribed them and added background, career, and family and friends for Stacy, the main character. I also looked up stories posted by women who have had disastrous dates and rewrote parts of them to add to the story.

Since there is seven years between books, Gwen has had lots of time to do more research and many of the dates in our second novel, Single Bells, are revamped versions of some of her encounters. Again, I pulled her stories together and added a story line for each of the Bell sisters. For both book, after I had written part of the manuscript I emailed it to her. she read them and offered her thoughts and ideas. For Single Bells, we even met at my daughter's place in Peurto Vallarta, Mexico, to work on it. And even though most of our pictures show us sight-seeing, shopping, and enjoying wine and Mojitos, we did get some work done.

So far both novels have dealt with women who have had disastrous dates with men they have met on dating sites but it isn't just women who have had bad experiences. I read about a man who invited a woman out for drinks. It happened to be at a restaurant where they were offering a dozen oysters for $15. Since she liked oysters she ordered and slurped her way through forty-eight of them. Her date went to the bathroom and never came back. She had to pay the $184 bill plus tip. He later offered to pay for the drinks as that was what he had originally asked her out for.

I mentioned to Gwen that maybe our next holiday/comedy/romance book should be about a man who tries to find the right woman through dating sites and the calamitous results. Gwen, ever the quick mind, replied, "We could call it Single Balls."

Our first novel, The Twelve Dates of Christmas is about Stacy Martin who's friends decide she must go on at least twelve dates and find a boyfriend by Christmas Eve. They prepay for three sites so she can join them.

Our latest novel is called Single Bells and is about sisters Simone and Serena Bell. Simone's marriage is just breaking up while Serena is still looking for the right man. It is in pre-release right now and will be released on November 1. Here is the first chapter.

                                                   

 

                                 Single Bells

                       Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

                                          And Gwen Donaldson

 

 

Copyright 2023 by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey and Gwen Donaldson

Cover art by Pandora Designs

 

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

 

 Dedication

To Bob G. A Very Dear Friend

                                      Chapter One

Simone Bell-Watson looked up as Raymond Webster of the Webster Private Detective Agency entered her office. He walked up to her desk and set a brown manila envelope on it. The envelope had her first name printed in capital letters on the front. Raymond then went to the coffee corner and put a pod of coffee in the top of the machine and closed the lid. He pushed the button to start it.

Simone looked down at the envelope in front of her. Did she want to open it? She’d hired Raymond Webster three weeks ago to follow her husband, Griffin. Six months ago Griffin had claimed to have made new friends and began spending time with them going to hockey games, bars, or just having coffee. But he was never able to describe the games they went to and he’d never brought his new friends to the house.

“Would you like me to summarize my report or do you want to read it?” Raymond asked as he carried his paper cup of coffee to the chair in front of her desk. He was in his early fifties with salt and pepper hair worn in a type of crew cut that was three centimetres long at the top and tapered on the sides. He had on blue jeans and a black leather jacket, which seemed to be the typical outfit of private detectives on television.

Instead of answering, Simone turned the envelope over and lifted the flap. She reached in and pulled out three sheets of paper and two large, coloured photographs. She spread them out on her desk and gasped in shock. She stared at the pictures for a long time before finally picking them up, one in each hand. The first was typical of the type you saw on television detective shows where the spouse is kissing another person in front of a motel door. The other one was Griffin and a man climbing out of the back seat of a car half dressed. Both were laughing. It was at night and looked like they were in a deserted parking lot.

“That was taken in Stanley Park. I had followed the man there and used a Nikon night vision camera.”

Simone blinked back the tears. It was true. Griffin was having an affair, something she’d suspected while at the same time not really believing he would do that to her, to their marriage. What she hadn’t imagined or expected was that it would be with another man.

“As you know, it has taken me a long time to finally get these pictures,” Raymond said. “He must have been suspicious that someone was watching him because whenever I tried to follow him he would make quick turns and drive through different neighbourhoods never stopping anywhere. It was really impossible for me to keep up with him and still not be noticed. I lost him many times. So I tried a different tactic.”

Raymond took a sip of his coffee. “I began watching the women at his work place but nothing seemed to be going on there. Then I sat and watched the women in your neighbourhood. Again, nothing.” He paused. “I finally decided to watch the men.”

Simone studied the pictures. She didn’t recognize the man.

“This one always seemed to leave his house at the same time as your husband. So I followed him. He wasn’t as wary as your husband and drove straight to the park that night.”

Simone set the photographs down and picked up the report. It gave an itemized account of what Raymond had done each evening that he had followed Griffin or the days he had watched Griffin’s work place. She read them through, remembering the excuses Griffin had given for leaving the house.

“I need some cigarettes and beer.”

“I’m meeting my friends at a bar for some drinks.”

At the bottom of the third page was the total amount she owed.

Simone took a deep breath. “Would you like a cheque or an e-transfer?”

“E-transfer is fine.”

Raymond gave her his email address and she went on her cell phone and made the payment.

“If you ever need me again, just give me a call.” Raymond set his cup on her desk and left the room.

Simone stared down at the pictures. She and Griffin had been married three years and, until six months ago, she had thought it was a good marriage. Then he had made new friends and began to change. He shaved before going out and he talked about getting hair transplants for his thinning crown. She had recognized those changes as signs that he may have someone new in his life, someone he wanted to impress. And she’d just been proven right.

She didn’t know why she was more stunned Griffin was having an affair with a man than she might have been if he’d been seeing a woman. It wasn’t such an uncommon occurrence anymore. There were even shows about it, shows like Frankie and Grace starring Lily Tomlin, Jane Fonda, Sam Waterston, and Martin Sheen. They had been two couples for years and then the men finally admitted that they had fallen in love. The women had taken it hard and then tried to get on with their lives. With her blonde hair, medium height, and blue eyes she wasn’t as sophisticated as Jane Fonda’s character or as off the wall as Lilly Tomlin’s but she may have to watch old episodes of the show to see how they worked their way to their new normal.

Well, it was time to put her back-up plan to work for, in spite of her hopes, deep in her mind she’d known what the result would be—Griffin was seeing someone else. And she had prepared for that.

Simone picked up her phone and dialed a number. “This is Simone Bell-Watson. I’d like to take that storage unit we discussed and I will be bringing my furniture in this afternoon.”

While waiting for the person on the other end to agree, Simone decided she would have to get busy and change the name on her important papers back to Bell.

“We’re open until six this evening.”

“Thank you.” Simone hung up and dialed another number. “I’m Simone Bell-Watson. I phoned last week about possibly needing your services to move my furniture.”

“Yes, I remember you,” the woman on the other end said.

“I’d like your men and truck to be at my place at one o’clock this afternoon.”

“Just a minute while I check our schedule.”

Simone stared at the wall while she waited. She wasn’t sure what was harder to take, losing a husband to a heart attack at the age of thirty-seven or having a husband cheat on her. Both meant a loss of a marriage, of a lifestyle, and of a planned future with a man. She and her first husband, Lucas, had met when she was nineteen and had dated for two years before marrying. That had lasted until his death seven years later. It had taken her two years before she began dating again and had met Griffin. For a second time she’d fallen in love and looked forward to a long marriage.

“I can arrange for a crew to meet you at one o’clock.”

Simone was startled out of her reverie and brought back to the present. “Thank you.”

After Simone had given her address, she made one more phone call. This one she dreaded but it was necessary for, while she’d made plans for moving out if necessary, she’d left this one until the last possible moment.

“Hello, Simone,” a woman’s voice said.

“Hi, Mom. I’ll get right to the point. I need a place to stay for a while.”

“So, you’re finally leaving that ne’er-do-well.”

“Ne’er do well? Why do you keep using those old words?” Her mother, Patricia Reed-Bell, was a very successful, historical romance writer who liked to add little-used and archaic words to her speech. She had just turned seventy and had been a widow since the death of Simone’s father, Craig, almost two years ago.

“Because they have a lot more flair and elegance than today’s words,” Patricia said. “Lazy and shiftless just doesn’t express the same righteous indignation. Although, Griffin was certainly lazy and shiftless. So what did he do that finally made you to come to your senses?”

Simone thought about lying and saying that she’d been the one having an affair and decided to leave him, but she knew the truth would come out. After all, she couldn’t tell that to her and Griffin’s friends. She wondered if some of them already suspected he’d been screwing around on her. She knew people automatically suspected an affair if they saw a married man or woman out with someone of the opposite sex. Would her friends have thought an affair if they saw Griffin out with a man? She knew she wouldn’t if she’d seen one of their husbands with another man. She’d have thought it was a couple of buddies having a drink.

“Griffin is seeing someone.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell the whole truth just yet.

There was quiet on the other end. “I’m sorry to hear that,” Patricia finally said.

“I have to go and pack my things.” Simone didn’t want to talk about how she had found out right now.

“I’ll have Lauren put one more plate on the table for dinner.”

Lauren Huckley had been hired part-time by Patricia to look after Craig when he’d had his first stroke three years ago. When Craig died from a second stroke Lauren had continued to come in three days a week to clean and cook. But Patricia enjoyed her company, so last July had hired her full time and Lauren had moved into the house. She didn’t have a car and used Patricia’s whenever they went out or she needed to go shopping.

“I’m not sure what time I’ll get there.”

“We’ll keep it warm for you.”

Simone hung up and sat looking at the pictures. She wasn’t sure if she was angrier at being such a fool, or more hurt that he had lied to her, or more embarrassed that she’d had to hire a private investigator. She’d been in love with Griffin since their second date, but she’d also known that he wasn’t ready to settle down. While they dated she continued with the studies she’d started after Lucas died and had received her Bachelor’s degree in English literature. After hearing for years how her mother’s literary agent had worked hard to find the right publishing house for her manuscripts and had gotten her many lucrative deals, Simone had decided she wanted to become a literary agent. There weren’t any requirements such as training, exams, or certifications to become an agent but she knew she had to gain experience. She worked as an assistant at a publishing company to learn the ins and outs of the publishing industry. She found that it took hard work and determination to be an agent but the most important thing she learned was the art of negotiation. After two years she started her own agency.

She began by working out of her home using the inheritance money she’d received from her grandmother to live on. She built up a stable of clients and found publishers to work with. Finally, last year she’d rented an office, put Bell Literary Agency on the door, and hired two agents.

Just when Simone was about to pop the question herself, Griffin finally asked her to marry him. At the time, she hadn’t been sure if that was because he wanted to get married or because he was tired of her hanging around waiting for the question to be asked. She had even thought it might have been because her company was growing and she was earning good money. Now, she wondered if it was because he hadn’t been able to admit his sexual preference and had wanted to hide in their marriage.

She’d thought he was a good husband, although not very ambitious. He’d been working in a warehouse when they met and he was still doing the exact same job now. They seldom argued and while they also seldom hugged or kissed and the sex had been sparse, she was happy in their marriage. Looking back now, she realized they were more like housemates instead of lovers. But she’d thought that in spite of their lack of lovemaking he was at least faithful. Now that had proven to be false. And being unfaithful was a deal breaker for her whether it was with a woman or a man.

Simone wiped a tear from her eye. Her marriage was over and nothing would change that. She was closing in on forty and alone again. Probably would be for the rest of her life.

Rather than phone her younger sister, Simone sent a text telling Serena that she was leaving Griffin and would be transferring her things out of the condo and into storage and moving in with their mother. Then she shut off her phone. She didn’t need to go through the whole explanation right now.

Simone picked up the envelope, stood, and went around her desk. She took her coat off the coat rack and put it on. She opened the door to the outer office where her secretary, Grace, was typing on her keyboard.

It was the first week of December and the room had a decorated Christmas tree in one corner and lights around the outer door. Holiday music played softly through the open door of the office across hers which was shared by her two agents. She could see Jilly on the phone and Ramona reading on her computer screen through the doorway.

“I’ll be gone for the rest of the day.” Simone told Grace.

“But you have a client coming in to discuss his new manuscript.” Grace was dressed in jeans and a red sweater with a reindeer brooch on the shoulder. There were matching reindeer earrings in her ears. She’d been dressing in red or green outfits since December first.

“Give him my apologies and reschedule for tomorrow or the next day, which ever suits him,” Simone said. She’d worked hard to grow her literary agency and always tried to be available for her clients. But what she had to do was more important. And she had to work fast at packing up her clothes and dishes and bedding and everything else in the condo. Griffin got off work at five. “And I will have my phone off until tomorrow, so just leave me a message.”

Grace nodded.

Simone went over to the photocopier to make two copies of each of the pictures Raymond Webster had given her. She felt Grace watching her since photocopying was part of her job, but these pictures were something Simone didn’t want to share with everyone. She put the original and copies in the envelope and hurried down to her bright red Mercedes car in the underground parkade. She drove out onto the street. It was half snowing/half raining, which wasn’t unusual for Vancouver this time of year. If she wasn’t so hurt and angry the snow might have put her in the Christmas spirit.

Simone drove to the condo she and Griffin shared. It was on the second floor of the building and overlooked the city and the mountains in the distance. She loved the view and would miss it. They wouldn’t have any trouble selling it unless Griffin wanted to buy her out. She snorted at the idea. In their three years of marriage Griffin hadn’t looked for a better paying job. She wasn’t sure if that was because he really liked his work or because he didn’t care about growing and expanding his prospects. The monthly condo payments and fees, groceries, and utilities were paid out of their joint account but her deposits were larger than his. And he had only come up with one-third of the condo down payment. She had kept the paperwork to prove it.

 

* * *

 

Serena Bell set down the bill of lading for the shipment of beer that had been delivered to her pub that morning on her desk and looked at the text from her sister. She read it twice before actually believing it. Then she nodded in satisfaction. Simone had finally smartened up and was leaving Griffin. Serena had never liked the man, finding him lazy and basically willing to live off his wife.

Serena decided to go to Simone’s condo. She figured there was no use wasting this opportunity to help get her sister away from that man. Also, it would be a chance to find out what had happened that would cause her to leave the man she had waited so long to marry. It must have been something drastic to cause Simone to decide to move in with their mother.

She finished up some paperwork then picked up her purse and keys and hurried out into the main lounge area. She’d owned this pub for just over a year and she still got a thrill to look around and realize it belonged to her. She’d spent most of her twenties working as a salesperson in a department store, or a server in a restaurant or, after getting her mixology license, a bartender in a bar or pub. These jobs lasted long enough for her to save some money and then she travelled throughout Canada and the United States for as long as the money lasted. While working in the bars she’d enjoyed mixing drinks for her customers and had learned a few easy, flair techniques, like the basic flip, ice throwing, and the palm pivot. They weren’t as easy as they looked but she’d perfected them through much practice.

Then two years ago she’d decided it was time to grow up so she’d bought the original bar here in Richmond using the inheritance she, Simone, and four other grandchildren had received from their grandmother. At the same time, she’d put a down payment on one of the condos above it.

But she knew that owning a bar wasn’t for her. She didn’t like the racket of the music and loud conversation or having to deal with the drunks or put up with the groping hands of some of the customers.

When she started looking for some place to buy she’d learned that the difference between a pub and a bar was that bars are all about selling alcohol. They served beer, a wide selection of cocktails, and not much in the way of food, usually snacks or appetizers. Bars targeted a specific market. That’s why there were many different types like, sports bars, ladies bars, and gay bars.

Pubs were half way between a bar and a restaurant. They didn’t target an audience; they were open to anyone and everyone. They served beer, wine, and cider and had a full menu of food from breakfast to desserts. Because of the wide variety of food and little liquor, minors were allowed in as long as accompanied by an adult.

So she’d made some changes to the original business. She renovated the kitchen to increase efficiency and flow, expanded the menu to include more choices, and updated the front of the house, as the area where she and her staff interacted with customers was called. She knew that first impressions were very important, so she enlarged the entranceway and added a comfortable couch for waiting customers or ones who had come to pick up an order to sit on. She also placed menus on a small shelf in the corner so they had something to read while waiting.

She made sure the hostess station was visible from the door, as well as from the rest of the room. That way anyone of the staff could greet the customers as soon as they entered. She kept the menus on the podium, handy for the server to pick up while leading the customers to a table or booth.

Most importantly, she changed the name to the B&B Pub. The name was a conversation starter with the customers and always got a laugh when she explained its origin. In school she and Simone had called themselves the BB sisters or the BB Bells: BB standing for Brains and Brawn for Simone because she’d been smart and a tom boy. Serena was Brains and Beauty. She made high grades in her classes and had also been beautiful, winning two minor beauty pageants in her teens. Since then, she’d put on a little weight and cut her long, blonde hair short. She was two years younger than Simone and just an inch shorter.

Lenny Newman, her beverage server/waiter, was behind the counter. She walked up to him.

“I’ll be gone for the rest of the day.”

“Okay, Boss,” Lenny smiled. “I’ll take care of everything.”

“Thank you. Give me a call if anything comes up.”

Serena walked out the front of the B&B Pub and around the corner to the pub parking lot. Past that, at the back of the building, was her metallic blue Prius in the condo parking lot. Traffic was light and it took only half hour to get to her sister’s place in Vancouver. There was a large van parked in the front of the building doors and three men were unloading flattened boxes when she arrived. Serena had a key to the building and Simone’s condo.

“Where are you men going?”

“We’re moving the furniture of a Simone Bell-Watson out of her condo.”

She nodded and opened the doors for them. She led them up to the fourth floor condo.

“Serena. What are you doing here?” Simone exclaimed when Serena walked in.

“I’ve come to help you.”

“This could take a while. Aren’t you supposed to meet Jerry for dinner tonight?”

Serena waved her hand in dismissal. She had found Jerry online and after six weeks of texting, they had met in person a month ago. Since then she’d seen him twice and the last time hadn’t gone well. Jerry had questioned her about her religion and how important it was to her. Once she’d told him she was a Protestant but didn’t go to church regularly his texts had slowed. “He called me yesterday and said he had decided to go to Calgary to see his family for Hanukah. I have all day and evening to help you so tell me what to do.”

The three men began opening up the folded boxes and taping the bottoms.

“You can pack the dishes I’ve set on the counter into those boxes, while I show the men what furniture I’m taking with me.”

Serena took off her coat and threw it on a kitchen chair. The kitchen, dining room, and living room was all one open area. Down a short hallway were the two bedrooms and a bathroom. Off the living room was a deck where Serena and Simone had spent many an evening drinking wine, talking, and laughing. Serena was going to miss visits with her sister and the view of the city and mountains.

The condo and deck were adorned with Simone’s usual abundance of Christmas decorations, although she hadn’t put up her tree. Serena knew that Griffin disliked the Christmas fuss and advertising and gift giving, stating that it was only to line the rich people’s pockets. He particularly disliked all the decorations Simone put up in their apartment. Serena wondered if Griffin had finally had enough of the Christmas season.

On the counter sat stacks of plates, dessert plates, bowls, and rows of glasses and coffee cups. Serena picked up one of the packing papers and set it on the bottom of a box then set a plate on top. She kept layering the plates, then did the pie plates and bowls. She set the tray of cutlery and other cooking utensils on the bottom of another box and wrapped the glasses and coffee cups in the papers and laid them on top.

While Serena was filling the boxes, the men carried the couch, love seat, ottoman, and end tables out to the van. One of the men smiled at her when he went by. He was the youngest and the tallest of the three and had dark hair shaved on the sides and curly on top, blue eyes, and high cheekbones. She guessed his age to be in the mid-thirties, while the other two were in their forties. He had taken off his jacket and she could see the muscles bulging under his black t-shirt. She returned the smile, feeling a warming sensation in her stomach.

The men hauled the bed, dressers, and night stands from the master bedroom through the living room and out the door. Serena paused and watched them go by. Actually, all of the men were in good shape but the two older men were intent on doing their job. The younger one caught her eye again and winked.

Simone carried plastic garbage bags out of her bedroom and set them against the wall by the door. “These are my clothes and they will go in the back of my car when we leave,” she told Serena and the men.

“Where is your furniture going?” Serena asked Simone as she went to the kitchen sink and ran some water into a glass.

“I’ve rented a storage unit and I’m going to put them there until I figure out where I’m going next.”

Serena felt sorry for her sister. Simone had lost one husband to a heart attack and now was losing another to divorce. Serena had never been lucky enough, if lucky was the right word, to find a man she wanted to settle down with. She’d had many lovers and affairs but they had only been a ‘passing fancy’ as her mother called them.

Serena knew now wasn’t the time to ask Simone what had happened between her and Griffin. It looked as if Simone was in a hurry to get everything out of the condo before Griffin came home from work. Serena noticed that Simone was leaving all the furniture in the guest bedroom. She knew that the bed and dresser in it were the only furniture that Griffin had brought into their marriage. The rest had belonged to Simone.

As Serena boxed up cooking and baking ware, the man in the black t-shirt stopped at the counter and slid a piece of paper with his name, Doug, and phone number on it towards her. “Call me,” he said then hurried to catch up with the other men.

“Another man falling under your spell?” Simone asked as she took down the Christmas decorations.

Serena laughed. Although they called themselves the BB Bell sisters, their friends had also given them nicknames: Simone with her quick smile, had been known as Tinker Bell because she liked to tinker around on cars with their father. They’d taken an old clunker that she bought with the money she’d saved from her babysitting and part-time job and had fixed it up and painted it. Simone had driven her friends to school football games and to parties in it.

Serena was called Hells Bells by her friends because she was always getting into trouble. There hadn’t been a week go by that she wasn’t called into the principal’s office for some prank she pulled. And because of her beauty she’d been popular with the boys. They would line up in school and beg her for a date causing blockades in the hallways. That usually got her a trip to the principal’s office even though she claimed it wasn’t her fault. Sometimes, when her sister was gone, Serena would sneak Simone’s keys and take her friends for a joy ride. They always pooled their money afterwards and put gas in the tank so Simone wouldn’t notice.

“He is kind of cute,” Serena said, putting the paper in her purse.

“What about Jerry?” Simone carefully placed the decorations in two boxes.

“I haven’t seen him enough to consider it serious. I’m not even sure if we’re even dating.” She decided to change subjects. She held up the decorations she’d been taking down. “Are you putting those in storage also?” Their mother decorated her house but not as much as Simone was used to.

“I’m taking these to Mom’s. Her house needs more than what she puts up.

Serena smiled. Their mother was in for a surprise this holiday season.

“Do you want to come for dinner at Mom’s?”

“Oh, it’s pretty late to be showing up unexpectedly.”

“I’ll text her and let her know you’ll be joining us. Lauren always makes extra in case she or Mom wants a snack later so I’m sure there’s enough food for one more.”

 

 

* * *

 

Simone was tired. Her furniture was in her storage unit and she and Serena had driven to their mother’s house on Oak Street. They’d unloaded bags of clothes and carried them up to her old bedroom on the second floor. Her boxes of decorations had gone in the basement. Lauren had kept the food she’d prepared warm and she now set it on the table.

“You hired a gumshoe?” Serena asked as she, Simone, Lauren and their mother sat down for their dinner in Patricia’s dining room. The room was large with a glass topped table that sat up to eight people and white straight-backed leather chairs. Along one wall was an antique sideboard that had belonged to Patricia’s grandmother and above it hung a large rectangle mirror. An archway led into the kitchen and another one on the wall opposite the sideboard let into the living room. The fourth wall had a double patio door that opened onto a deck overlooking the garden area.

“They don’t call themselves gumshoes, I’ve been informed,” Simone said as she dished up some scalloped potatoes. “At one time that cliché probably fit because the private detectives wore street shoes with thick, rubber soles so they could walk softly. Now they wear all types of footwear and have more sophisticated ways of tracking someone.”

“So what all did the detective do? How did he find out Griffin was cheating?”

Simone grimaced at the word cheating but she had decided to answer all their questions and get it over with. “Raymond Webster of the Webster Private Detective Agency tried to follow him, but he kept evading him. Finally Mr. Webster watched the women where Griffin worked and in our neighbourhood. When nothing developed there he started looking at the men. He noticed that one of our neighbours left his house around the same time that Griffin left ours. He followed him and found them together.”

Simone took a drink of her wine and didn’t watch them as the news sunk in.

“Oh,” Patricia said.

“Really?” was Serena’s reaction. “For sure? And he got pictures?”

Lauren said nothing.

Simone nodded in answer to Serena’s question. Before she’d left the condo, she’d spread the photographs on the counter and left them for Griffin. That was all the explanation he would get from her. It should be all the explanation he needed.

“And you never suspected he was gay?” Serena asked.

“No.”

“Really?” Serena and Patricia exchanged glances.

“Why? Did you?” Simone stared from her sister to her mother.

“Well,” Patricia said slowly. “We did wonder.”

“Why?” Simone asked again. “What did he do?”

“Oh, it was nothing overt,” Serena said. “Just some of his mannerism, like the way he occasionally waved his hand or struck a pose. Until today, though, if I’d been asked if I truly thought he was gay. I would have said no.”

Simone couldn’t believe that she had missed the signs. Had she been so much in love with him that she’d refused to acknowledge them? Had she thought her love would keep him at her side?

“Are you going to take some time off?” Patricia asked.

Simone was jerked from her thoughts. “No time off. I’ll be back in the office tomorrow, right after I see a lawyer and a real estate agent.”

“Good for you, Dear. No use dwelling on times of yore. And you can stay here as long as you need.”

“Thank you, Mom.” She smiled at her mother.

Patricia was a small, pretty woman with dark hair. She stood barely five foot two inches and had only reached their father’s chest when standing beside him. Simone and Serena had taken after Craig in height and with their blonde hair.

Simone looked at Lauren wondering why she was so quiet. Usually she kept them laughing by telling them about the antics she and their mother had gotten into since their last visit. Maybe she was quiet because of the reason Simone was moving in. Maybe she thought it was too sombre an occasion for levity.

“Anything new happen since the last time we saw you two?” Simone asked looking from her mother to Lauren.

“We went to a Christmas craft sale and bought some candles and scented soap,” Lauren said. She was medium height with long brown hair that she kept in a ponytail or braids. She was in her mid-forties and had been married once. Her parents were still alive and she had one sister.

Patricia nodded. “And we also went shopping for gifts.” She added with a smile.

“Oh!” Serena exclaimed bouncing up and down in her chair. “What did you buy us? What did you buy us?”

Simone remembered the two of them pestering their parents with that same question every year when they were children.

“Nothing for either of you,” Patricia said, a sparkle in her eye. “You’re both on the naughty list.”

Simone laughed for the first time that day. That had also been her mother’s reaction to their question every year.

“Oh,” Serena pouted then she brightened. “Christmas isn’t here yet. I have plenty of time to find out. And speaking of Christmas, it’s time to get in the spirit. I’m going to see the lights at the VanDusen Gardens one evening next week. Anyone want to join me?”

“I haven’t been there since Mom and Dad took us as kids,” Simone said. “I’ll go with you.” She wanted to start doing some Christmas activities. The news about Griffin had put a damper on her mood but she didn’t want to let it spoil the season. She knew there was no way they would ever get back together. If Griffin had been seeing a woman, he could say he’d made a mistake and wanted another chance. But he couldn’t change his sexual orientation. She knew she would have sad days, but she also knew it was definitely over.

“Me, too,” Patricia said.

They all looked at Lauren. “I’ll go, too,” she smiled.

 

Sunday, September 24, 2023

Pantser Writing by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

 

https://books2read.com/Romancing-the-Klondike


https://books2read.com/Rushing-the-Klondike


https://books2read.com/Sleuthing-the-Klondike

 

 Pantser Writing 

If I had to chose between being called a plotter or a pantser writer I am definitely a pantser. I have never worked with a solid outline or arc for my novels, whether they are mystery, historical, romance, or young adult. And this is mainly because I find that my characters seldom end up the way I first pictured them and the plot never takes the route I thought it would.

I either start with an idea or a character and decide the setting and then start writing. I do begin the story with a character in his/her everyday life so the reader can get to know them then I put in the trigger that is out of the control of my main character or starts the mystery. This puts the main character on his/her quest for a solution.

I do have scenes pictured where characters are going to have a certain conversation or be at a certain place but unexpected conversations or character twists surface as I am writing the story. Some of these are surprises or mishaps or problems that get in the way of my character’s quest. I strive not to make these predictable nor so far out that they don’t make sense to the story. They should leave the reader with the thought that (s)he should have figured that would happen. I find that it is no fun to read a book where you can foresee where the story line is headed and what is going to happen before it does.
 
Sometimes, part way through my story, I have to go back and add chapters at the beginning because one of my characters has decided to say to do something unexpected. I have even had characters try to hijack my story and make it about them. An example is in Sleuthing the Klondike. I had two main characters Helen and Baxter and decided that Helen needed an lady's maid. I introduced Mattie who was supposed to be a very minor character but she suddenly began telling her story and almost took over as the main female character.

For the climax of my stories my character goes through the action of resolving the problem or solving the mystery. This has to be fast paced and sometimes at a risk to the character. By this time the reader should be rooting for the main character and wanting him/her to succeed without injury. Hopefully, too, this is where the surprise comes in, where the reader goes. “Wow, I didn’t see that coming." or "I never thought it would be that person.” I have even been surprised or saddened or happy by the ending of my novels and have said that.
 
I believe that if my emotions are rocked by the ending so, too, should those of the readers.

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