American Title Contest
A friend of mine has entered the American Title Contest. This contest is held by Romantic Times. The entries get votes, a little like the Avon contest. So far her entry has jumped through at least three hoops, bringing her entry into the final rounds.
Those in the finals have set up a blog: Title Magic. Right now Anna Cambell is over there visiting, talking about the Black Moment. Go on, click on the link. I know you want too. 😀
I’ll be putting up a link to this group blog in a week or so when I clean up my poor, neglected blogroll, and talking more about my friend and her writing career as well.
Actually, I know a couple of the people who are finalists, but I consider one a friend. Can you guess which one?
Alice
By George! It’s a Wedding!
When we left off – a couple of weeks ago – Prince George the Fourth had finally convinced Mrs. Fitzherbert to be his wife. Mr. Fox was not ammused.
The Prince decided to alleviate his friend’s fears by doing what he did best. He lied like a thief in a letter to Fox stating that he had no intentions of marrying Mrs. Fitzherbert. It would never happen. Scouts honor. Before Fox had even received the letter, the search was on for a Church of England parson to do the deed.
The trouble with getting such a gentleman was that any parson performing that particular ceremony (marriage) for that particular individual (Prinny) in those particular circumstances (without dad’s permission) would be guilty of a felony. In the prisons of 18th century London, a felony conviction was as good as a death sentence.
In the end his Highness had to turn to someone who was already in prison. The Rev John Bart was doing time in Fleet prison for debt. The Prince offered to spring him immediately and find him a job. He also promised to give him 500 pounds and make him a bishop!….after he became king.
Mister Bart apparently didn’t realize that doing what the Prince wanted him to do would virtually guarantee that his highness would never become king. It would also guarantee Mister Bart a return trip to Fleet. Oh well, it’s the fine print that always trips people up. On the evening of December 15, 1785 His Royal Highness, The Prince of Wales wedded Mrs. Maria Fitzherbert. The witnesses were Maria’s uncle, her younger brother and a couple of the Princes most trusted drinking buddies.
The lovebugs went off to Ormeley Lodge for a week’s honeymoon. Then it was back to London for the Christmas season. There were a few people that the Prince had confided in about the marriage. Closest friends who could be trusted to take his Highness’s secret to the grave. They swore never to tell a soul. Before one could say, “Merry Christmas”, all of London was buzzing with rumors.
Said the Marquess of Lothian, “I am very sorry for it, it does him infinite mischief, particularly amongst the trading and lower sort of people, and if true must ruin him in every light.” It’s not likely that his Highness was gravely concerned with what the Lower Sorts had to say about him. Or anyone else for that matter. He had done the one thing that would finally get his Beloved Maria to have sex with him! Merry Christmas indeed!
Unfortunately for the Prince, his secret marriage wasn’t his only problem. He had managed to pile up more debts. Much of it from his redecorating of Carlton house. Before continuing, the question of the Prince’s debts needs closer scrutiny. Just as the Prince was different from all other gentlemen, so were his debts. And, as we shall see, he received very special treatment from his creditors.
– Mr. Al
Sven Ouch
1,376 words. It was a rough week and promises to get rougher. Too many distractions. I’ve been AWOL from my muse long enough to start feeling like I need to get back to work, but I know I won’t get much done in the next few days. Maybe I can make up for it in the week after.
Alice
Suzie’s House 47: For the Greater Good
Just when Ben and Suzie had arrived at an accord regarding Ben’s problems at school, Drew had to get hurt. While Suzie, Miranda, and Vin carried Drew into the house, Ben had a little talk with Alice. Yes, I mean me. I’ve made a couple of appearances in this story. Ben had been feeling pretty good about life. Things weren’t so good with his father, but he could live with it. Frankly, life in the house since Vin and Drew and Miranda moved in has been pretty interesting. Suzie worried, but Ben didn’t. Maybe he should have.
Once Suzie and Miranda got Drew settled on the couch Suzie ran to the kitchen for an ice pack. The lump on the back of Drew’s head worried her. She suspected he should go to the hospital, but he flatly refused.
With the ice half way from the freezer to the faucit, she lost it. Her breath caught. Her hand shook. First Vin, now Drew. What next? She leaned against the counter next to the sink, one hand to her forehead, the other holding the tray of ice.
When she had heard the sound of a gun going off so close to her house, she’d first thought they were under siege. Then, when no other shots were fired, she recalled that Drew and Ben were on the porch. Either or both could be dead. She’d run into Miranda in the hall, loosing precious seconds to arguing over what might be happening.
Few things could be worse than reaching the porch to find neither Ben nor Drew there. A dozen nightmare scenarios flashed through her head, each worse than the last. Instead, a silver Jeep Cherokee peeled out leaving Ben kneeling next to Drew.
Ben’s explanation had come out garbled, but Suzie knew all she needed to. Ben was all right and Drew was injured but alive. The old-fashioned aluminum tray in her hand rattled. She could have lost them. She could have lost them both.
Suck it up, Suzie Hammacker. She straightened her back. When Ben walked in she had the ice out of the tray and wrapped up in a plain, white dishtowel.
“Mom, do you know the lady who was at Cindy’s party, the one with curly blond hair?”
Suzie shook her head. “Doesn’t ring any bells. Why?”
“Nothing.” Ben shrugged.
He looked so young to her right then. There were times, a lot of times, when he looked like he was on the verge of turning into a man. Though his shoulders were still narrow, they were wider than his thin waist and promised to fill out much like Drew’s. His smooth, unlined face had a manly angle to the jaw. He wasn’t as tall as she was yet, but had grown an inch in the last month alone. Yet when he sucked in his lower lip as he started at the floor he looked like her little boy.
“It’s all right, Honey. You’re all right and Drew’s all right.” She put an arm around him for a quick hug. When she went to let go, he bumped her, a silent plea for more. “You must have been terrified.”
Ben nodded. His voice came out unsteadily. “I thought Drew was dead. I couldn’t tell if he was breathing. How did you know he was OK when you pushed his eyelids up?” Ben pulled away, his brow wrinkled in puzzlement.
“His eyes reacted to the light. Better yet, they did it evenly, so he didn’t have concussion.”
“How do you know so much, Mom?”
Suzie shrugged. She wasn’t about to tell her only child how very little she knew. “How did you and Drew end up half way down the block?”
“The men sort of scooped me up when they left Cindy’s house.”
“What? They came out of Cindy’s place and crossed to our porch to scoop you up?”
“No. Drew and I went over there when we saw them. The one who tried to give me a ride went out on top of the porch and yelled at me, but Drew aimed his gun at the other one. Then Drew ran into Cindy’s house and just sort of followed. He shot them when they came down the stairs, but it didn’t even slow them down. I guess I was in the way ‘cause I was in front of the door. They scooped me up.” Ben turned his thumbs out in a gesture of hopeless appeal.
“Then what happened?”
“The one who tried to give me a ride wanted me to go with them. He dragged me to the jeep. The other one didn’t, but he tried to get me into the jeep to shut the other one up.”
“Wait… are you telling me…?”
“Yeah. There are two red-haired men.”
Suzie felt faint. Suddenly it seemed as if twice as much trouble hung like a cloud over her house. She yanked a chair out form where it rested against the table and sat down. “Oh no.”
Ben went on to describe how one of the men had pulled out a bat and hit Drew in the back of the head, but Suzie’s mind and heart were elsewhere.
Drew and Vin had brought danger to her household. It was too late to do anything about it now. The red headed men had marked her household, singled them out for murder and mayhem. Suzie had counted on Drew to protect Ben, but now she could see it wasn’t going to work. Drew meant well, but there was only so much he could do, and his case had to come first.
She had to get Ben out of harm’s way.
She ran through her options in her mind, but already knew there were precious few. She had no family in town to take him, and wasn’t close enough with anyone not living in the household to be able to make such an imposition. There was only one option glaring in her mind, and she hated it.
She leaned into the table, elbow bent, head in hand and groaned. It killed her to have to do this, not only because she knew he would hate it so much, but because of what it was going to do to herself. But she had to. Anything else would be selfish on her part.
“Ben, I know this is going to be hard for you to understand, but it’s for the best.”
Ben turned worried eyes toward her. His lower lip twitched down. She wished desperately that she could take back what she was about to say.
“Ben, you’re going to have to go live with your father for a while.”
The previous was Suzie’s House 46: Where Kid’s End Up When Someone’s Down
This is Suzie’s House 47: For the Greater Good
Next is Suzie’s House 48: Birth of a Scream
Thurdsay Thirteen #9: Fractured Christmas Carols
Thirteen Fractured Christmas Carols
1. We three kings of porridge and tar.
2. On the first day of Christmas my tulip gave to me
3. Good tidings we bring to you and your kid
4. O come, froggy faithful
5. Deck the Halls with Buddy Holly
6. Later on we’ll perspire, as we dream by the fire.
7. He’s makin’ a list, chicken and rice.
8. Noel. Noel, Barney’s the king of Israel.
9. Olive, the other reindeer.
10. Frosty the Snowman is a ferret elf, I say
11. Sleep in heavenly peas
12. Oh, what fun it is to ride with one horse, soap and hay
13. Noel. Noel, Barney’s the king of Israel.
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Alice
George on Hold
Due to technical difficulties there will be no Prince George blog today.
And Mr. Al thought I was pressing him for the next installment for no good reason. Haruph!
Alice
My Mother Discussing Cranberry Sauce
Mom: Have you ever noticed how canned cranberry sauce turns a darker red when it’s been exposed to the air for a while?
Me: Uh… yes?
Mom: I was surprised to learn that home canned cranberry does the same thing.
Me: And this is surprising because…?
Mom: I know, it shouldn’t surprise me. I had hoped it (the cranberry’s sauce we had just canned) wouldn’t (change color) because commercial cranberry is exposed to such high heat treatments. *deep sigh* But we are talking about the anthocyanin compound, which is not particularly stable. What? Why are you looking at me like that?
Holiday Pumpkin Bread
I was going to do a comparison of gingerbread men recipes, but this came in from Spark Net and I couldn’t resist. I’ll do the gingerbread thing next week.
Holiday Pumpkin Bread
Serves: 36
Give as a gift, or serve with a hot cup of cider or a cold dish of ice cream for a yummy dessert.
INGREDIENTS
3 cups white sugar (or substitute)
1 cup egg substitute
2/3 cup water
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon ground allspice
3-1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
1 (15 ounce) can pumpkin puree (or fresh sugar pumpkin puree)
1 cup chopped walnuts
1 cup raisins
1 cup canola oil
DIRECTIONS
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Spray three 7 x 3 inch loaf pans.
2. Mix oil, sugar, and eggs together in a large bowl. Mix in pumpkin puree and water. Stir together flour, soda, baking powder, salt, and spices.
3. Add to the pumpkin mixture, and mix until just combined. Stir in nuts and raisins.
4. Divide batter into prepared pans.
5. Bake for approximately 1 hour or until toothpick comes out clean. Cool on wire racks.
NUTRITION INFO (per serving)
Calories: 215.8
Fat: 9.4 g
Carbohydrates: 31.4 g
Protein: 3.1 g
Sven the Train Wreck
2070 words, all on Monday. As soon as I realized I wasn’t going to be able to finishe the book in two weeks I totally lost it.
Maybe it’ll be better next week. How much longer did you say we had?
Alice
Suzie’s House 46: Where Kid’s End Up When Someone’s Down
When we left off last week, Sean and Joseph had barreled out of the house where Cindy lives. Drew nicked both of them with one shot before they slammed past him. They scooped up Ben, who was in the doorway, and tried to stuff him into their jeep. Drew punched out Sean, but Joseph hit him in the back of the head with a baseball bat.
Ben watched Drew’s eyes roll back right before he hit the pavement.
“Drew!” Ben dropping to his knees. “Oh no, oh no, oh no.” Was he dead? He wasn’t moving.
A car door closed behind him. The one red haired guy had stuffed the other into the jeep. Two red haired guys? How was anyone supposed to keep them straight? All Ben knew was the one who had offered him a ride slumped in the shotgun seat, looking about like Drew – eyes closed, mouth open.
The other guy, the one Ben had never seen before, ran to the driver’s side. His door wasn’t even closed good before he drove off, leaving Ben kneeling next to Drew, who still wasn’t moving.
“Drew! Drew, are you all right?” Ben touched the side of his neck. He couldn’t feel anything. Wasn’t there supposed to be a heartbeat or something?
“Benjamin Hammacker! What are you doing?” Ben’s mother stood on the porch, a horrified expression on her face.
“It’s not my fault!” He shouldn’t have said it. She wouldn’t like it. It was the first thing that came to mind. “Mom! Mom, help. I think Drew might be dead.”
Mom ran down the steps and along the sidewalk. Miranda had come out behind her and Vin behind both of them. They all three came running. Mom got to him first. She leaned over Drew, prying his eye open and looking at something, though Ben wasn’t sure what.
“He’s alive, but he might have a concussion. What happened?”
“It was the red haired man. Only there were two of them. And one of them crawled out on Cindy’s roof and yelled at me. And Drew pulled his gun, but he only shot once, but he got them both, but they got away.” He practically stumbled over the words, but his mother seemed to follow him anyway. Then he realized he should have done something, anything, to stop the other red haired man from driving away. “I guess I let him get away.”
“Oh, Honey. It’s all right. You couldn’t have done much.”
That wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He was in middle school now. He wasn’t a kid. Ok, maybe he was partly a kid, but he wasn’t a little kid.
By then Miranda and Vin were there, and a bunch of people, including Cindy, came out of the house next door. They all came and stood around Drew.
Drew groaned. He flung an arm over his eyes. Ben had never been so relieved. He wasn’t dead. He was going to be ok. And even if it was Ben’s fault Drew got hit with a bat everything would be all right.
Everyone was talking. A couple of people laughed in that nervous way grown ups did when they were relieved. Vin helped Drew sit up. Mom fussed over him like crazy and accidentally got him in the side with an elbow.
“Ben, give me a little more room here,” Mom said.
“I’ll help him up.” Vin tried to get close, but Miranda laughed and pushed him back.
“You’re in no shape to help anyone. I’ll do it.”
Ben got pushed to the side, then pushed again until he was on the outside of a circle with Drew in the middle.
Everyone left. Mom and Miranda and Vin went into the house with Drew. Cindy went back to her party, and all her friends went with her except one. It was a middle-age woman with curly blond hair.
She just looked at Ben. Something about her expression made him uncomfortable. It wasn’t pity, but it was kind of like it. She nodded toward the house and said, “You better go in now. They’ll be missing you soon.”
He went. She just stood there and watched the whole way. He stopped in the doorway for one last look, trying to figure out what it was about her that bugged him. Then he went in. As the door closed, he figured it out. She looked at him like she knew something he didn’t. Something he wasn’t going to like.
The previous was Suzie’s House 46: Peas in a Pod
This is Suzie’s House 46: Where Kid’s End Up When Someone’s Down
Next is Suzie’s House 47: For the Greater Good
Thursday Thirteen #8: things I should be doing right now.
13 things I should be doing right now.1. Writing a new Thursday Thirteen because I’m second guessing what I was originally going to put here.
2. Cook supper for everyone, and not just stick leftover in the microwave. Oh well.
3. Run my son’s laundry because apparently 13 is too young to do it for yourself.
4. Write my FanLit Forever Holiday story.
5. Write the episode of Suzie I’ll be posting tomorrow night.
6. Write something, anything, in my WIP.
7. Stop mooning over the temporary loss of Romance Diva’s board. It better be temporary! Yahoo doesn’t cut it.
8. Stop tying up the phone line with my Internet usage.
9. Christmas shopping. At least one item.
10. Watch Disk 5 of Inuyasha. Ok, that’s more of a want than a need, and I guess I can share the TV for a half an hour or so.
11. Learn how to pronounce Inuyasha so that my son will quit correcting me.
12. Compile statistics and do critiques for my crit group.
13. Make Mr. Al happy so he’ll quit trying to drag me into the closet with him.
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By George! What If They Get Serious?
So Prince George consoled himself over the refusal of Maria Fitzherbert to join him in matrimony with the attentions of the likes of Lady Bamfylde, dinners, and redecorating.
****
But his beloved Maria was never far from his thoughts. And, although he did not know it, his letters were having an effect. She remained in Europe for a year. Toward the end of that time her companions reported that she had become increasingly listless. She seemed to be running out of things to do that held her attention for any length. She spoke increasingly of returning to England.
At first her reasons were that she was homesick and that she needed to look after her properties. Gradually she spoke more often of her growing belief that the Prince did, perhaps, really love her. Even when she was reminded that the law had not changed, if the Prince married her he would lose everything, did not deterre her.
After all, she pointed out, the Prince was well aware of the situation and claimed, loudly and often, that he did not mind losing all to be with his One True Love. One day, she made up her mind. The Prince really wasn’t as crazy as she had once believed. Yes, he ran with a bad crowd, he drank too much, ate too much and, in general, displayed a shockingly intemperate, if not downright childish, personality.
But for all that he was sweet, considerate, after a fashion, and still very charming. Mrs Fitzherbert convinced herself that what the Prince needed was a firm but loving hand to guide him. She wrote a letter to the Prince telling him of her intention to return to England and marry him.
When the Prince received that letter, he was beside himself. When Charles Fox heard the news, he was also. But for a very different reasons. While he truly cherished the Prince’s friendship, he had other reasons for staying close to his Highness. What the Prince wanted to do would destroy his, well, his utilitarian value. Although Fox would never come right out and say such a thing.
He sent the Prince a long letter laying out the reasons why a marriage to Mrs. Fitzherbert would be a bad idea. He did touch on the political ramifications. He also mentioned that the King was not without options, son-wise. Granted, the Princes brothers were hardly better behaved than his Highness, but that would be a moot point if the Prince forced his fathers hand by marrying a Catholic.
And did Mrs. Fitzherbert really want to stir up all the old prejudices against Catholics? Fox was sure that she did not. As the Princes deeply concerned friend, he had to advise him to lay off the Catholic girls. Besides, he reminded his Highness, even if he went ahead and did the deed, it wouldn’t be real!
Even two Catholics getting married by a priest in England had to re-perform the ceremony with an Anglican parson or the state would not recognize it as valid. Tut,tut. Said the Prince. Let me worry about that. Fox pointed out that any children from such a union would be bastards. Illegitimate kids might be a given with Hanoverian males, but what would the devote Catholic Fitzherbert clan think?
The Prince was touched that Fox had such a deep concern for his happiness. It broke his heart that his friend was getting his silk undies in a bunch over the matter. So touched was he, that he decided to do something about it. Prince of Wales-style.
*****
Uh oh.
Thank you Mr. Al. Can I have the next file yet?
Alice
