Now
that November is here, I begin thinking of holiday meals and can’t wait to fix
such favorites as honey glazed ham, cherry salad, turkey and stuffing, sweet
potatoes and all the desserts we’re always too full to appreciate until later. In
fact, I was just talking to my son today about what salads and bread he wanted.
What is your favorite holiday food? He said I needed to make bulgur wheat bread,
for sure.
As
a writer, I’m sometimes surprised when reading my rough draft because the
question occurs to me, “did they eat?” I write romance, so I pay the most
attention to my characters and their relationships, and I sometimes forget they
need to eat and dress and go about daily business. These things add detail to
the story and make the characters more “alive”, especially if one of them has
an aversion or allergy to a food or has a particular way of dressing. However,
details such as this are normally background and shouldn’t take over the story.
(Example: have you ever read a story with page after page of furniture
description and you find yourself skipping over it?)
Once
in a while, though, food and/or eating play a fun part of the story, such as in
my contemporary novel “Prelude and Promises”. A restaurant--Brenda Kay’s -- is the
site for several conversations between Cheyenne and Jake, so while it is story background,
it also gives insight into the characters and their budding relationship. To
give you an idea of how I use this in my story, here is the cover blurb and
some excerpts at Brenda Kay’s.
Blurb:
Pianist Joseph Donovan was tired of
his uncle’s interference in his career. In fact, he was tired of his career,
even if it had made him a millionaire. The concerts, recording sessions, and pressure
to compose new musical arrangements meant he never had a minute to himself. He
left it all behind, using his given name of Jake Smith to hide out on Lockabee
Island, trying to be just an ordnary guy. And that worked very well, until his
uncle’s executive secretary came looking for him, issuing an ultimatum and
deadline for his return home. In the process of negotiating his “capture”, he
found himself fascinated with her. More surprising was that the passion he felt
inspired him to start composing again.
Cheyenne knew Jake resented her
presence on the island at first, but he soon sparked a passion that made her
forget why she was there. When she discovered the real reason for his leaving
Chicago, did she still want to convince him to return? As the days and nights
swirled together in a symphony of passion, she was torn between her
responsibilities to her employer and what her heart desired. If she had to
return to Chicago without him, could she survive the heartbreak?
Excerpt
1: (He ran away when she found him and now he is trying to apologize)
“I’ll
tell you what you want to know if you’ll have lunch with me.”
“It’s three in
the afternoon. That’s too late for lunch.”
“Well,
I haven’t eaten.” He put a hand to the small of her back and gently guided her
into the restaurant they were passing, which was Brenda Kay’s, his favorite
place to eat. She didn’t resist, which he took as a good sign.
Brenda
Kay came over to wait on them as he slid into a booth opposite Cheyenne. She
was a nice looking, middle-aged woman and had a friendly, outgoing manner. Jake
had liked her from the first time they met.
“Hello
there, Jake. Ever get that boat of yours running? Harvey thinks he’s ready to
go fishing.” Harvey, her husband, had health problems, which was one of the
reasons they had retired and moved to the island.
“It
puttered clear across the sound today,” he said. “Old Hank wants to fish, too.
Maybe I should start a fishing service. Might be able to make myself some
money.”
He
heard Cheyenne give a choking sound and turned her way, narrowing his gaze. He
didn’t think she would give him away, but you never knew what went on in a
woman’s mind.
“This
is Cheyenne, a…friend of mine. We’ll have the fish and chips.”
“Excuse
me, but I think I can order for myself.” She turned to Brenda Kay. “May I see a
menu, please?”
Brenda
raised a brow at Jake as though wondering where he had found her. He grinned
and winked.
“You
must be a tourist,” Brenda Kay said as she pointed to a chalkboard above the
bar, which contained only three items—hamburgers, barbeque ribs, and fish and
chips.
Cheyenne
sighed. “Fish and chips will be fine, and whatever light beer you have.”
Jake
was sure the surprise showed on his face. He was beginning to understand that
the woman sitting across from him was extremely complex, and thought it might
be fun to try and unravel and peel away the layers.
To
begin with, he couldn’t let her out drink him. “One for me, too, Brenda, but
not the light.”
She
didn’t say anything until their beers arrived. She took a sip, set it down and
stared at him across the table. He had never realized how blue her eyes were;
light in the center with dark rims. They were framed by dark lashes.
“Ok.
You’ve got me here, now talk.”
“We
keep having the same conversation. You tell me why you’re so dedicated to my
uncle that you would fly half way across the country to find me.”
“It’s
my job, and unlike some people, I take my responsibilities seriously.”
“I
have always taken my responsibilities seriously; until I decided enough was
enough. Everyone’s entitled to change jobs.”
She
sat with her mouth pinched as a waitress brought their food and another round
of beers.
“May
I have silverware, please?”
“You
don’t need it and we don’t have it,” the young girl said. “Nothing served
requires it.”
“Are
you serious?” She gingerly fingered the brown paper wrap which crinkled as she
opened it.
“It
soaks up the grease,” Jake told her. “Enjoy.” He tipped his beer bottle toward
her in salute.
He
bit into a piece of the crisply fried fish and watched her eye the battered
fish and golden French fries. She probably never ate fried food. Finally with a
sigh she picked delicately at the fish.
“It
is flaky and tender,” she admitted.
“Brenda
Kay’s is the best around.”
“Sans silverware,” she retorted with a
laugh, picking up a piece of fish and finally eating. She licked her fingers
free of tartar sauce.
Jake
watched her tongue snake out and everything in him tightened.
Excerpt
2: Cheyenne has found it hard to maintain a professional demeanor around Jake,
thus causing a bar fight and a night in jail:
Cheyenne
took a last glance in the mirror before heading downstairs when Jake texted
that he was waiting. The floral sundress she had purchased fit snuggly across
her breasts and flared from the waist to end just below her knees. Her heels
didn’t seem quite appropriate so she settled on sandals. She would have worn
her linen slacks and cashmere sweater but after his comment about her clothes,
she had decided to dress casually. The bright red, blue and yellow flowers
suited her, she thought, as she touched up her lipstick, this time a pale pink
shade.
She
was glad for the sandals when he insisted they walk. She was happy to be
casually dressed when he turned into Brenda Kay’s.
“Again?”
she asked as they slid into a booth near the back.
“It’s
rib night,” he said in explanation as Brenda came to the table.
“Well
if you don’t look a sight.” She set water glasses on the table. “Heard there
was a ruckus at the Pelican. Damn it, the one night I didn’t get down there,
but it was too busy for me to get away.”
“You
didn’t miss much,” Jake said and Cheyenne coughed.
Brenda
looked at her and back to Jake’s bandaged hand. “I can see that. How are you
going to eat ribs with a broken hand?”
“Carefully.” He
smiled, then grimaced and touched his bruised cheek.
Cheyenne
was surprised by his good nature. Granted, he hadn’t spent the night in jail,
but he had been injured and she didn’t know if he had gotten any more sleep
than she had. He sported his wounds like a banner, almost as though he were
proud of the fight he had been in.
She
could only shake her head and shrug when Brenda looked back at her.
“Beer?”
she asked.
Cheyenne
shook her head again. “Not for me. I’ll stick with water.”
Jake
laughed lightly and ordered a soda.
While
they waited for their meal, which Cheyenne assumed was ribs whether she had
ordered them or not, she studied Jake more closely. The split in his lip looked
better, but she could see the fingers on his right hand were slightly swollen.
She reached over to lightly touch the scabbed knuckles.
“Does
it hurt badly?” She felt so guilty at having caused him injury.
“Cheyenne?”
He didn’t say any more until she raised her gaze to his. His brown eyes were
intense, his smile gentle. “None of this,” he gestured with his other hand,
“was your fault.”
“But
I—”
“You
were being accosted. Every other man in the bar would have done the same thing.
I simply got there first.” Irrationally, she heard pride in his voice.
“Your
hands are your life, you idiot,” she said without thinking, but he only smiled
wider.
“You
have no idea what I am capable of with only one hand,” he whispered across the
table and she could feel a blush rising. Honestly, she had never blushed so
much in her life until she encountered him.
“Whatever
are you thinking, Miss Tucker?” he teased. “I might have simply been implying I
was ambidextrous.”
She
changed the topic instead of bothering to comment. “Tell me what happened after
I was hauled off to the slammer.”
Their
ribs arrived, served up on brown paper as had the fish and chips. The waitress
set down a pile of napkins, refilled her water and took Jake’s glass to get him
another soda. Jake waited until she left before answering her.
“The
excitement was over by the time I came to.”
She
gasped. “You were knocked out completely? Damn it, I told the sheriff to let me
see to you, but he hauled me off like a common criminal.”
He
grinned as he picked up a rib. “Well, actually…”
“You
know what I mean.” She looked at the pile of ribs, wished for silverware, then
with a sigh, picked up the sauce-slathered meat and took a bite. A moan of
pleasure escaped. They ate in silence for several minutes. When the waitress
brought another serving of ribs, Cheyenne looked at her in surprise.
“All
you can eat,” she replied as she set that down along with Jake’s soda.
“One
serving is all I can eat,” she said.
Once
again, Jake was silent as he cleaned off rib after rib, licking his fingers
in-between bites. By the time he was done, he had barbeque sauce smeared all
over his bandage as well as his mouth.
She
bit her lower lip as he licked sauce off his lips.
Excerpt
3: Things are getting serious!
Her
phone pinged.
Jake: Have
dinner with me tonight.
Cheyenne: Come
back to Chicago with me.
Jake: It wasn’t
meant to be a negotiation. L
Cheyenne: I had
to try. ;)
Jake: Please
have dinner with me?
Cheyenne: Can we
go somewhere that has silverware?
Jake: J See you at eight.
To
find out whether Cheyenne can entice Jake to return to Chicago, get your copy
of “Prelude and Promises” in print or eBook today at: https://books2read.com/Prelude-and-Promises.
Being
thankful, today and always,
Barb
http://www.authorsden.com/barbarajbaldwin
https://bookswelove.net/baldwin-barbara/
PS
– If you’re in the mood to start your holiday reading, “Snowflakes and Kisses”
my Christmas novel, is on sale in eBook format at Amazon! Amazon.com: Snowflakes
and Kisses eBook : Baldwin, Barbara: Kindle Store.
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