DEFENDING THE PEN
It’s all about murder . . . romance – writing it!
I post flash fiction, book announcements, interviews, and the things I love.
Careful . . . you may end up the victim . . .
of fun!
Nothing can surpass the lyrics of the song or Roberta Flack's version.
This poem was based on a blind date that turned to love at first sight.
Tagline: Love defined.
If you want more. Here's an excerpt from a WIP.
Her Mona Lisa Smile
Zane wandered through the Eden Gallery,
unaware of the magnificent art surrounding him. Instead, his mind was on his
career. He'd built a reputation in New York as a heart surgeon. Yet he was
ready to throw it away for a quieter, less stressful life.
"How can you even consider
leaving?" Emma said quietly.
Zane shrugged. "I'm thirty-five
going on seventy because my days are filled with constant life and death situations,
not art." Zane was about to chug his third glass of champagne when he spotted
her. He stopped cold and just stared.
It
can't be. She's…No. It's not possible.
And
yet it couldn't be anyone else. The same reddish-golden hair. Deep green eyes
and a smile that would melt the coldest heart, light the darkest room, and cause
his heart to beat like a drum. His body had the same reaction gazing at a
painting of her as it had when they'd met in person.
He moved
closer. On the exhibit label was the name of the artist Troy Handleson, the
name of the painting, Sunrise in Paradise, and another title in
parentheses, Her Mona Lisa Smile. Zane chuckled. It was clear from the
emphasis on the girl in the painting that the sunrise was not the feature.
Zane's
mind traveled back ten years earlier to a homecoming party at Penn State. The
party was in full swing when he saw her enter the room. She had a vibrancy that
surpassed the celebration of the thousands of screaming fans when Penn State
won their game that day. The girl had an alluring smile, bright, sparkling eyes,
and long luxurious locks that fell in soft curls over an exquisite body. He
knew instantly that she was the one.
The girl
he would marry. There was only one problem, she'd walked into the party on the
arm of Harris, the star quarterback. Zane did his best to learn all he could,
and a friend told him her name was Brandy. He thought it an odd name for
a goddess, but names didn't matter.
God answered
his prayer when she accepted his request for a dance. She beguiled him. He was
speechless, caught in her spell, and lost in the emerald green and gold of her
eyes. The warmth of her touch threatened to betray a very physical response. He
wanted nothing more than to see her silken tresses cascading across the pillow as
he...
Blocking
the fantasy, he finally found his voice and learned her nickname was Randi, not
Brandy.
"Cassandra
is too formal. Randi is more down to earth," she told him.
Whatever
name she went by. She was perfection. He discovered she was a high school
senior visiting the campus but hadn't decided where she'd attend.
"Why
should I choose Penn State? She asked.
"Because
I'm here," he said.
She
smiled. "Aren't you a senior?"
"I'm
going for my master's. How'd you meet Harris?"
"We've
known each other for years. He's such a hero, isn't he?" She said
dreamily.
Zane
wanted to converse. Randi wanted to dance. And as easy as that, he had a second
chance. He pulled her close for the slow dance and did his best imitation of
Fred Astaire. She responded beautifully, the crowd parted, and they were a solo
hit. Of course, he didn't want the music to end. But when it did, she kissed
his cheek and squeezed his hand.
"Maybe
in a different time," she said and walked out of his life and into the
arms of Harris. But she'd already stolen his heart.
*****
A
slight breeze riffled the sheers covering the wall of windows that looked out
over the Atlantic Ocean. A brilliant blue with rolling waves and a bright cerulean
sky filled with feather-like clouds. The white caps dissolved into smaller and
smaller breakers as they raced across the sand. Randi was so lost
in thought that neither beauty, the sun's warmth, or the cries of seagulls
could break through. She read, then re-read the email.
Randi:
A mutual friend, Troy Handleson, gave me your email
address. Naturally, I wanted your phone number, but as a good friend should,
Troy was protective of your personal information.
Please accept my deepest condolences. I know this is a
bad time for you, but if you ever want to talk. I'm a good listener.
I'd like to know you better, and the funny thing is…we've
met before. A story I promise to share on our first date.
In the email's signature, Zane Winters gave his New York address
and phone number. Randi, now simmering with anger, called Troy. "Who the hell is Zane
Winters?" She shouted as soon as he answered.
"Oh, my God, I'm so sorry. I intended to text, but I
had so much fun at my opening that I completely forgot. Zane bought that sweet
portrait of you. The one I titled Her Mona Lisa Smile," Troy explained.
"Portrait? You didn't…. I never gave my permission."
"But you did. I asked you what I should do with the
portrait I'd done of you for HIM, whose name shall never be mentioned. And you
said, whatever I wanted."
HE was Randi's ex, and all her friends knew
better than to mention his name.
"No. I said, destroy it. You claimed it was
valuable. And I said whatever!"
Troy laughed. "So, I took a little license with your
response. Can you blame me? My best work and the highlight of the show. I
couldn't destroy perfection. Damn, girl, I got thousands more than I was even
asking. And because of my artistry, the man fell in love with your Mona Lisa
Smile. Hell, his girlfriend even hired me…."
"Why would anyone pay that much? God, Troy. What he
bought was my email address. Holy Hell, what have you done? Sold me out to some
creep? After Damon! How could you?"
Halloween was a dark and
dreary night filled with misting rain and fog that moved like ghostly images
around the yellow light of the lampposts. It matched my mood, and I went for a
walk despite the weather or the late hour. The world was quiet because all the
vamps, witches, and goblins, with bellies full of chocolate, were astral
projecting through candy-crush dreams.
As the fog closed in and
the shadows moved surreptitiously around me, I relished the feel of solitude
and silence. I'd just lost a coveted part in the new GT Dragon series. Smarting
from the rejection, I was angry for believing my agent when he used words like star
and soon-to-be rich and famous.
Sure, I'd appeared in
several videos and commercials, even a slasher film, with a scream that won out
over fifteen others. But the truth is I'm just an extra. A girl with good legs,
a pretty smile, and an award-winning scream. The problem was that I had no
desire to be average.
Visibility was low, but
I was too caught up in a blue funk to care. With no destination in mind, I
walked around and around, block after block. I wasn't lost, just wandering,
trying to figure out how to change the future.
"Excuse me,
Miss," a deep voice crashed my pity party. Startled, my hand went to my
heart, and my breath caught in my throat. Foolishly, I'd assumed I had the
world to myself.
The mist seemed to part,
and I spotted an incredibly handsome man under the streetlamp. Deep dark eyes,
long dark wavy hair. Black jeans and a leather jacket. The clichéd bad boy.
"Don't tell me, you
need directions?" I gave him my best "make my day" attitude.
He moved closer. His
eyes were hypnotic, his advance slow and easy, and that smile contagious. "I
thought you were lost. You've passed by here twice."
"Not directionally
lost, just deep in thought," I said as I tried to recall if I had passed
by before.
"I'll buy you a
drink if you share your thoughts."
"Sure, why
not," I agreed, knowing a crowd was safer.
We crossed the street to
the Jumpy Jitters. I knew Jess, the owner.As we walked to the corner
booth, I introduced myself.
"I'm Drake. Nice to
meet you, Clara," he said, then took my hand in his and kissed the back of
my hand. His eyes were mesmerizing, and his touch sent warm tingles through my
body. I swallowed air. My whole body flushed.
He chuckled. "I've
never seen anyone blush so easily."
I slid into my seat and removed
my jacket. "It's too warm in here." Embarrassed and questioning my
reaction, I fanned my face. Sure, the guy was handsome, but I've seen plenty of
attractive, and no, I've never felt that electric spark with anyone else. It
had to be a fluke. Too much static in the air. I changed the subject. "So,
what has you hanging out in the fog in a small town like Carlisle on Halloween
night?"
Before he could answer,
the waitress asked for our order. I ordered a drink I could sip all night, a
Black Russian. Mr. Suave ordered a bottle of Jack and a draft. I grinned.
"Don't tell me, you're nursing a broken heart?"
"No. The bottle is
for my grandmother. She's a spry old lady that likes a nip once in a while. Halloween's
her favorite holiday. You should have seen her with the kiddos. They loved her
costume and that cackle of hers. Scares them every time."
"That's sweet.
You're visiting from where?"
"Chicago. I'm a
pilot."
For two hours, we
conversed like old friends. When Jess turned the lights up and said, "last
call," I felt cheated. Drake was an intriguing man."
Drake offered to walk me
home, butI said "no" too quickly. It seemed the
safest option. "I'll catch a ride with Jess. He lives near me. It was nice
meeting you. I hope we run into one another next time you're in town."
"If it's in my
power, we will," he said with a sly smile. "May I kiss you
goodnight?"
I blushed again, and he
took it as a yes. But damn, that man can kiss. I'd never, ever been kissed so well.
An immediate addiction, I wanted more. My heart pounded, and I could barely
catch my breath.
Drake wished me sweet
dreams, then, too quickly, he was gone. After the last patron left, I asked
Jess for a ride home, but he had to do the floors, and I didn't feel like
waiting.
Walking out in the night
air was a rude awakening. The fog had thickened, but I pulled up my collar and
started a quick pace home.
Half an hour later, I
realized home was blocks away and in the opposite direction. I was standing on
a street where the only visible house still had lit Halloween decorations. The
fog gave the scene a macabre look.
"Did you follow
me?" Drake's voice broke through the fog of my confusion."
"No, honest. I… oh
God, I'm not drunk. I know what street I live on. How did I get here?"
Drake, laughingly, said,
"I told you Grandma was a witch?"
"Yes, but…a…real…witch?"
"Is there any other
kind?"
I still hadn't spotted
him in the fog. "Where are you?"
He put his arms around
me from behind and whispered. "Right here, beautiful."
I turned. One look into
those alluring eyes, and we were locked in a kiss. The passion was
all-consuming, as though we'd been lovers for years. I surrendered completely when
he began whisper-soft kisses behind my ear and down my neck. Adrift in the
passion of his touch and lost in desires I'd never experienced before, I could
have sworn we were floating high above the city.
***
A year later, Drake and I married. He flies
jets, I'm still an extra, and Granny's is our favorite Halloween hideout.
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