ShadowsForge 2: Trials On Tour By Jena Galifany

Excerpt - noun - a passage or quotation taken or selected from a book, document, film, or the like; extract.

Welcome to a month of excerpts shared for your reading pleasure.  The Roses of Prose would like to present to you the most exciting, the most romantic, the most of what we write. I hope you will return daily for new exciting posts and will find new stories you will want to know more about.

The excerpt I am sharing is from Trial on Tour, the second installment of the ShadowsForge series. The set up for the scene is Diane Starling, the new wardrobe lady currently attired in a sun dress, is on the deserted roof of a hotel when she meets Geoff Richards, lead singer for the band. Someone has been making attempts to kill the members of the band. Geoff has shoved a chair under the door latch to be sure his body guard can't follow him. The lock-down the band has been under finally got to him and he needed to get out. He didn't expect to find Diane on the roof.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Geoff Richards

    Geoff stopped, barking her name in a commanding tone that made her stop several yards ahead of him. “DIANE. If you call me Mr. Richards again, I’ll paddle your ass.”
    Diane spun to glare at him, eyes wide. “You’ll do what?” she demanded.
    Geoff's lips curled into his media smile. “I said I’d paddle your ass.”
    “You’ll do no such thing,” she challenged, not even attempting to hide the amusement that the thought brought to mind. She smiled at him before adding, “Mr. Richards.”
    As his smile faded, his eyes narrowed with a mischievous glint. Diane turned to run, hoping to get around the corner and through the door before he caught her. She could hear his pounding footfalls closing behind her as she reached the corner. She didn’t look back, instead locking her eyes on the chair jammed under the door handle.
    “Oh, no.” Diane yelled, laughing. She skidded to a stop, grabbing the chair, tugging to dislodge it. She glanced up in time to see Geoff rounding the corner twenty feet away, the greatest pleasure showing on his face as he bore down on her. She was struck with the giggles as she tugged at the stubborn chair. Before she could successfully break it free, Geoff caught her around the waist, lifting her effortlessly off the ground, taking her along with him as he slid to a stop.

Diane Starling

    He swung her up into his arms, planning to carry her to a chair to administer her punishment. Three gunshots sounded from the far side of the door. Three holes appeared in the door, one slug pinging off of the chair in a cloud of rust as Geoff jerked Diane beside him, throwing their backs against the wall.
     “What the hell?” Geoff hissed, pulling Diane close to his side. He stayed between her and the door, inching toward it with the intention of making sure that the chair was secure.
    “What are we going to do?” Diane whispered, hearing the trembling note in her voice. She tried to force her fear down as she clung to Geoff’s arm.
    “I’m going to make sure who ever is in there can’t get out here. Is there anywhere we can go, another way in or down?” Geoff moved with caution toward the door, Diane matching his every step.
    “A fire escape on the far end but it’s well rusted.”
    “That’ll have to do.” Geoff lowered his voice as they stood beside the door. He whispered into her ear. “I'll jam the chair under the door, you run for the fire escape.”
    Diane nodded, biting her lower lip.
    The door burst open, Geoff and Diane behind it. As the door swung at him, Geoff pulled his knee up to chest level and kicked as hard as he could. He repelled the door, slamming it closed again as he scrambled for the chair.
    “GO, NOW.” Geoff grabbed the chair, shoving it as hard as he could into place. Diane ran. Once he was sure it would hold, he followed her. As he turned the corner, he remembered the window. “Diane!” he shouted, “the window.”
    Diane skidded to a halt. The pane of glass shattered outward with several more shots, not three feet in front of her. She screamed, dropping to her knees, covering her head. Geoff caught up with her, pulling her to her feet. He took her hand, leading her to halfway between the window and the end of the building. He looked around, frantic for a place to go.
    “You’d think someone would hear all of this,” he commented, pulling Diane against the wall so he could think. He looked at Diane before looking up at the small overhang above them. Not too high. “Come here.”
    Geoff pulled her away from the wall. He turned her back to his chest, took her by the waist, and with little effort, he lifted her up to sit on his shoulder. He wove his fingers together as she reached out for the roof. He placed his hands under her foot. She pulled herself up as he raised her easily to the top of the building. She leaned over, looking down at him.
    “What about you?” Fear caused her face to pale, making her dark eyes appear darker.
    “Be right with you. Move.” He jumped up to grasp the edge. Climbing the wall with his feet, he struggled, finally pushing himself up over the top. They moved as quietly as possible toward the far end. “If we can get to the end, the elevator will cover any sounds we make getting back down – I hope.” He wrapped his hand around Diane’s upper arm to guide her along the cracked tiles.
    They moved over half way to the end when a bullet fired through behind Geoff. It was quickly followed by several more shots.
    “RUN.” Geoff pushed Diane ahead of him as they sprinted toward the edge of the building. Each time Geoff moved his foot, a hole would appear where he had been. The adrenaline rush was dizzying.
    Diane skidded to a stop at the edge, panic in her face as she turned to Geoff. Only he didn’t stop. He leapt to the roof below, rolled and got to his feet in what seemed to be one smooth choreographed move. He turned back to her, reaching up.
    “JUMP.”
    Without hesitation, Diane leapt toward him, praying he would catch her. He set her quickly on her feet and taking her hand, pulled her at a furious pace toward the fire escape. Geoff leaned over the edge, evaluating the safety of the rusted ladder that stretched up to him from the alley ten floors below. Given the choice of standing unarmed against a madman with a gun or chancing the ladder, he climbed over the edge. Once he was sure it would hold them, he motioned for Diane to follow.
    “He’ll have to go through the door or a window before he can get out here to us. If we’re quick, we can be down before then.”
    They moved with care down the ladder, watching for any sign of the gunman above them. If the guy chose to pick them off, they had no place to go. That thought spurred them to move as quickly as possible. A shot might miss but the fall from here would mean certain death.
    “Geoff, who’s shooting at us?” Diane finally took the opportunity to ask.
    “We have this fan,” Geoff began, careful to test each rung before trusting his full weight on it. “He’s unhappy with the band.”
    “I can see that.” Diane tried to keep her mind off of the nine-story drop below.
    “One of us had a piece of his woman so he wants us all dead.”
    “What a nice guy. Which one of you did she sleep with?”
    “Don’t know.”
    “Oh, come on. Was it you?”
    “Could have been. Do you really want to talk about this right now?” Geoff felt the tension building.
    “Yes. I want to talk about anything that will take my mind off of where we are.”
    “Okay. Nice panties you’re wearing. Silk, satin or spandex?”
    “Oh, that’s really cute, Mr. Richards.” The color rose in her face.
    “I owe you for that one and the last one, Babe. Be sure I’ll collect.”
    “It’s a date. If you get me down from here, anything you want, it’s yours.”
    “You’ve got it. I’m stopping here. Don’t step on my fingers.”
    “Why are you stopping?” Diane felt fear rising again, replacing the embarrassment.
    “Stay there,” Geoff commanded.
    Diane moved to one side of the ladder so she could brave taking a look down. As she did, Geoff moved to the opposite side. He reached out to a window, trying to slide it open. It wouldn’t budge.
    “Hold on tight. This might shake the ladder,” he told her.
    Moving to the side, he swung out, forcing one booted foot through the glass. The shattering sound made Diane jump and she nearly lost her hold on the rusted metal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you want to read a bit more of Trials on Tour, visit my WEBSITE.

 

I hope you've enjoyed this small piece. If you want to read the entire novel or the series, it is available at Whiskey Creek Press. The first three books in the series, Three Times a Hero, Trials on Tour, and Retaking America, are available in one Megabook available HERE. If you miss the 80s or missed the 80s, hop on board the tour bus and travel with ShadowsForge. You'll have the time of your life.

Cheers!

Jena

Confessions of a Dating Rebel!

By Glenys O'Connell

 There are lots of traditional mores that now seem outdated: once upon a time, women were not allowed to own property, vote, hold down a job (except poor women could do something menial, like being a servant).

In fact, right up until a few years ago, women teachers in Ireland (and possibly other countries!) were expected to leave their jobs if they got married. One brave soul had to go all the way to the higher courts to insist that she and all other women teachers had the right to work in their chosen profession and at the same time be a wife and mother. She won her case and a judge ordered her reinstated, but whether she actually returned to work in a school that had caused her such unhappiness, I don’t know. I doubt things would have been pleasant for her in the staff room.

Yes, there are many things that women weren't supposed to do in the past that they do now without even having to stop and think. For example, I can remember when I was in my teens, you were considered a bit 'fast' if you asked a guy out on a date. Well, not being one to stand on ceremony, I bravely invited three boys out on dates. Not all at the same time, you understand.

One turned out to be a total jerk. So much for my feelings of being sophisticated in the ways of dating. But never mind, if at first you don’t succeed….

The next turned out to be older, but also a member of the minor aristocracy, and I learned a lot from him – his lifestyle provided lots of insights for a girl from a working class background! But he was looking for a long-term relationship which was more than I was ready for. 'Nuff said.

The next guy I met and asked to accompany me to a party turned out to be a real gem – and we're still together many years and four children later.

So Phssst! to social mores!

You're probably wondering why I'm telling you all this. Definitely not to prove what a rebel I am! I'm pretty sure my own very modern daughters wouldn't be impressed by this bit of 'forwardness' on their Mom's part. And the idea of proposing – well, that went way beyond me!

But hey, girls – it's a Leap Year. You know, the one year in four when February has 29 days.

And if you're too young to know this bit of old folk lore, this is the one day every four years when it's considered okay for a woman to propose to a man. Wow!

If you're in love and he's a bit shy (or, as we used to say, a bit backward on coming forward)       today's the day you can pop the question with good luck on your side.

I'd love to hear about your own adventures in setting the running in a relationship – whether it's making the first move - or even proposing!

Lady Diana, the heroine of my romantic comedy  Marrying Money, was tired of there being a dearth of eligible (and wealthy) husband material in her life. So she decided to go out and find herself a rich husband to save her impoverished estate. Here's an excerpt:           

“I have definitely got to do something about the state of things. We can’t go on this way, what with money leaking out left right and centre and the east wing needing a new roof and…….“

Sally raised an eyebrow at me over her pint mug of lager and lime. It’s her way of saying: “Get on with it.“ and I don’t think she has any idea just how badly her eyebrows need plucking. Raising one like that makes it look like a caterpillar is crawling up her face……

Where was I? Oh yes. “I made a decision this morning, after going over the accounts one more time with Jim Chatterton. After realising that I don’t actually have a pot of my own to piss in, as your dad would so charmingly put it, I've decided on a course of action."

"Ohh, get you. 'I've decided on a course of action.' Well, if that ain't just the lady of the manor, an' all," Sally said before honking loudly and banging her forehead on the table.

"Stop it, will you – everyone's looking," I hissed at her. "Anyway, I am the lady of the manor. And I'm going to get married."

                I should have waited until Sally had swallowed that mouthful of lager and lime. That way she wouldn’t have sprayed it all over the vicar when I made my marriage announcement.

                "You're not serious! You? Get Married? Never!"

                People really were staring, now. The Reverend Morrison was edging quietly away from our table, although I wasn't sure whether he wanted to avoid another lager spray or was afraid I’d ask him to conduct the service. The vicar and my dear nutty Aunt Kay, the family witch, have had a few spats in their time. I think it once involved an exorcism.

                "You're not really going to marry Larry the Lettuce, are you?" Sally's eyes were wide.

                "Well he's as good as any other option around here. And he's got money. It's simple: He gets me, and the Ashburnham Estate gets his money."

                Which is actually only a variation on my ancestors' behavior. Whenever the estate was down to its last few hundred thousand, out would go a hunting party to bag a nice rich bride and dowry. I couldn’t see any difference between my bagging Larry the Lettuce and my great Great-Great-Great-Great--Grandfather, Lord Ralph, aged 70, bringing home pretty little fifteen year old Alice de Clancy and her accompanying gold dowry.

Glenys O'Connell swears she has never proposed to anyone in her life. This blog is the last confession of this sort she intends to make - even under threat of removal of her chocolate stash! You can read excerpts from her books on her web page at Romance Can Be Murder