Showing posts with label indie author. Show all posts
Showing posts with label indie author. Show all posts

Saturday, April 22, 2017

Innocent Gossip - Short Story

Today I'm posting my short story Innocent Gossip for those that do not have Wattpad. If you'd like to sign up for Wattpad, it is free. You don't need to share writing and can read all types of indie works for free.

This is the first story in what will be a collection of shorts stories that I'm calling Heart Bits. Here is the cover on Wattpad:



Innocent Gossip

Amanda Kestrel


They met for the first time in the boardroom. Her first impression of him was his height. He towered above her but his easygoing attitude and quick smile stripped him of intimidation. She was put at ease by his witty charm and willingness to engage her in playful banter. It was a daily pleasure for him to step into her office to discuss clients with a touch of flirtation. If she had been willing to admit it, which she wasn’t, she would have called it a school-girl crush.

That’s all it was.

That’s all it could be.

He was married. There had been more than one mention of trying for a baby. She was happy for him. The thrill of seeing his face and the low timbre of his voice was a harmless secret. There were other men out there, eligible men if she cared to look. She told herself she did but found herself entrenched in her work.

She quietly reveled in small moments they shared.

During a meet and greet, they were forced to stand shoulder to shoulder in a small conference room. The smell of his cologne and the warmth of his arm through his shirt jacket was intoxicating. His pinky finger brushed against the back of her hand as he moved. She was relieved to survive that meeting without making a fool of herself as her head swam in a heady fog.
After that, she tried to avoid a second encounter. Their chemistry was strong but it had to remain innocent. It wasn’t her goal to reveal her feelings and elevate their relationship. She dared not believe he saw her as anything more than a colleague and dreaded hurting his wife.

When he began taking more time off she began to suspect that the hoped-for baby was becoming a reality. He didn’t announce it to the office, but she waited for the day. She steeled herself against the last proof her desire was a foolish dream.

It all changed with a little innocent gossip in the breakroom.

“Did you hear why Kyle’s been out so much recently?” Maureen asked Wendy while they waited for their microwave lunches to heat.

Lisa’s attention was roused by the mention of his name. She kept her head bowed over her phone and pretended to read.

“Probably off on some fancy vacation again,” Wendy said, annoyed at her own lack of time off.

“No, I heard he’s getting a divorce.”

“Can’t be. I heard they were trying for a baby.”

“That’s what I thought, too, but I don’t think she can get pregnant.”

“Really? I bet that’s what tore them apart.”

The two women gathered their food and exited before Lisa could hear anything else. She sat up straight in her chair with the quiet stirring of hope in her heart.

Stop it. It’s just a rumor. She felt her pulse quicken despite her own warning. Even if it were true, the odds were slim that anything would come of it.

That afternoon, she looked up from her desk to find him in her doorway. He leaned casually against the molding with his arms crossed and a crooked smile on his face.

“Hey, Lisa, how’s it going?”

“I didn’t know you were in today,” she lied, always aware when he was out.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve heard some scandalous things floating around about me.” His smile grew a little wider and so did her eyes.

“Oh?”

“You know, the usual. The wife and I bought a villa in France or we now have our own private beach somewhere. Or maybe I have a mistress on the side.”

She laughed lightly, relieved that she didn’t blush.

His smile faded. “It’s not that glamorous. I’ve been visiting my lawyer.”

“Nothing serious, I hope.”

He shrugged, looking away. “My wife and I split up. We just finalized things last week.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry.” She wondered if she sounded surprised.

He shook his head. “It’s fine. I’m the one that wanted out.”

“I didn’t know things were bad.” This time her surprise was real and she felt guilty by a rush of excitement from the revelation.

“Anyway, we have that Maxwell file to work on and I was wondering if you’d like to get some dinner while we work?”

“Sure. Of course. I don’t have any plans.”

“Great. We’ll head out at five. I’ll drive.”

“Okay,” she said.

He smiled again and was gone. She covered her mouth with her hand to stop herself from squealing. It was just a business dinner, like so many others she’d had. It wasn’t a date.

Why does it feel like a date?

The hours in the day slowed to a crawl. She found herself unable to concentrate fully on her work. It had been a long time since she’d watched the clock so closely and agonized over how slowly the minutes changed. Life outside of work wasn’t dull but there was little variety to garner expectation. Her favorite moments from the past two years were spent at the office when he was near.

At five o’clock, she forced herself to wait. She logged out of the computer but sat with her hands on the keyboard as if she were about to start typing. It was better to let him come to her, she decided, to avoid revealing her anticipation. When he appeared in the doorway, she moved slowly with a conscious effort. She picked up the file for the client and carried it under her arm.

“Are you ready to go?” she asked the obvious.

“I am,” he said and flashed her a smile she had never seen before.

She walked passed him and half expected him to put his hand on the small of her back. He didn’t.

This isn’t a date, she reminded herself.

His car was a silver sedan with black leather interior. It was clean and not what she expected. His easygoing attitude gave her the impression of a man that left the office and flung his tie into the backseat. Either she was wrong or he had cleaned up before offering her a ride. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye as he drove, unable to read the truth in his expression.

“What do you feel like?” he asked.

“Anything is fine, really.”

“I’m up for steak. I know a place that’s not too country and not too upscale.”

“Alright.”

He knew she wasn’t the type to eat salads to impress. Of course, he’d only seen her at work and not out on a date.

It’s not a date.

The restaurant was nice with a quiet atmosphere and dim lighting. She placed the file on the table. After they ordered, they discussed the client and issues that had been resolved the week before while Kyle had been out. Her excitement dwindled and was gone by the time their entrees arrived. She closed the file and moved it away from the food.

He surveyed his plate before leaning forward to grin at her. “That’s enough of that. I think we can safely say this was a business meeting.”

She stared at her food, unsure if she had heard him correctly. “What?”

He sat back. “Oh, come on, you don’t have to pretend anymore. I know you’ve had a crush on me for a while now.”

Her heart picked up speed and she began cutting her meat as a distraction.

“Am I wrong? Because I’ve wanted you from the moment we met. Let’s get what we’ve both wanted.”

Her eyes jumped up to his and he nodded. “Aren’t we paying with company credit?”

He shrugged. “Our entire relationship has been with the company. One dinner won’t hurt.”

“But, you just finalized your divorce. Don’t  you need time to grieve?”

“It’s been over for a long time. Signing the papers only made it official.”

She took a bite, wanting him to explain but was afraid to ask.

“Let me put it this way. She was no longer what I wanted and I was no longer what she needed. I just had to make the push to send her in the right direction.”

It made sense. “What do you want?”

He didn’t answer but their eyes remained locked and his smile was hungry for something other than food. She felt the heat creeping through her and her body tingled at the possibilities. Two years of waiting was well worth the time.

The conversation lightened but as they ate the heat remained. Under the table she felt his foot brush against hers. When the check came he paid and gave her a knowing wink at their small conspiracy and paid in full with his own company card. As the left the restaurant she walked beside him and when she stepped ahead to exit, she felt his hand on the small of her back.

She turned, blushing. His arm encircled her waist and he led her back to his car. Before he opened the door for her he leaned in and kissed her. A quick brush of lips escalated as the fire within her was released. He pulled her close and she put her arms around his shoulders. After a moment, they parted. She felt lightheaded and breathless.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he said.

“Me too,” she admitted.

He smiled. “What would you say if I told you I’ve wanted more?”

It’s too soon, isn’t it? “I would say yes.”

His face lit up and he opened the door. She could feel the cool leather through her blouse and skirt in contrast to her fevered skin. He kept glancing at her as he drove, eyes expectantly tracing her face and down her curves to her leg. His fingers brushed against her exposed knee and she shivered with anticipated delight.

He pulled into a parking lot. She looked up at the building and glanced at him, confused. “A hotel?”

“Sorry, I’m still unpacking at my new place. You understand, right?”

I wouldn’t mind that. “Yes, of course.”

“Wait here.”

She watched him walk across to the office. Her mind reeled in two directions, both for and against what she was about to do. It wasn’t like her but she wanted him. It could be a funny story they told someday.

When he returned, he led her to a room on the first floor. The door closed. He pulled her into a kiss. Her misgivings melted away in his embrace. They moved as one through the small space to the bed. She was vaguely aware of her shirt making its way to the floor to mingle with his. Their skin touched, burning with longing.

She fell back onto the bed and he was above her. Their hands entwined as their bodies entangled. His lips were cool against her bare shoulders. He leaned in close and she felt his breath on her ear as he whispered “Lisa.”

Lost in that moment she cried out. Everything she dared not imagine came true in an instant and was gone. She curled up beside him on the bed but he did not stay. He stood up and walked to the bathroom. She lay on her side watching the light spill out from under the door and listened to the sound of running water wash away her happiness. He reappeared and gathered his clothes from the floor.

“I should drive you back to your car. It’s getting late and I have an early meeting.”

She blinked to prevent tears from slipping out. “Right. Of course.”

In minutes, they were dressed and in less than ten more they were back at the office.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

There was no goodbye kiss. The chasm of disappointment yawned within her heart. At least he waited to drive away until she was safely in her car. As his taillights faded into the dark she sat alone and cried.

I’m so stupid.

In the morning, she walked passed each coworker with a sense of dread. Maureen seemed to stare at her discriminatingly during their usual hello. When Lisa sat down at her desk she noticed a form letter on her keyboard. It was an expenditure report from Kyle.

“Your department will be charged $42.87 for your share of the meal,” she read in a low whisper.

Her hurt and anger swelled in her chest. She marched down the hallway with his notice in her hand. 

She burst into his office and slammed it down onto his desk.

“What the hell is this?” she demanded.

He looked at her as if she were crazy and it only intensified her anger. “What is what?”

“This,” she said, pointing to the report.

“It’s for our dinner meeting last night. You know, per policy.”

“But I thought…” she began but trailed off.

“You thought what?”

“I thought,” she paused again to fight back her confused upset. She was making a scene. Everyone would know. “I thought your department was picking up that check.” The words came out in a pleading hiss.

“And I thought our departments had a mutual understanding that it was a one-time shared expense.”

Once again he was making her feel stupid. She turned away and crossed her arms. He stood up and shut his door.

“Listen,” he said quietly. “I have a feeling that maybe you didn’t understand the purpose of last night.”

She shrugged.

“This was a one-time thing. I thought that was clear.”

“It wasn’t.”

“I didn’t divorce my wife because I want a new relationship. I want to be free to have fun with other women whenever I want, like last night.”

It all became clear.

“She was no longer what I wanted and I was no longer what she needed.”

Lisa turned to him and shook her head. “Why me?”

“I like you and you like me. Even if it wasn’t last night it was a sure thing, wasn’t it?”

She hated knowing it was the truth.

She picked up her expense report and nodded to herself. “Sorry to have bothered you,” she said and walked back to her office.

Her eyes traced the faces of the co-workers she passed. A few curious glances trailed after her due to her outburst. Even if they didn’t know they would talk. She could already hear them whispering before she closed her office door.

There was no such thing as innocent gossip.

© Amanda Kestrel 2017

Saturday, April 8, 2017

Writing when Unwell

This past week was a rest week for me. If you follow me on twitter (@AmandKWrites), you may be aware that I have bipolar disorder. This can cause me all types of issues. One of those issues is I have agitated depression and dysphoric mania. What does that mean? It means that even when I'm depressed I'm still a little manic and even when I'm manic I'm still a little depressed.

You'd think this would cause an balancing effect, but that is not the case.

Both states cause my executive cognitive function to suffer.  Executive cognitive function is not intelligence, but rather things like memory, concentration, processing information, and being able to organize. When you look at a list of symptoms of bipolar disorder, there are hints at how it affects these functions, although it's only recently becoming more widely researched. Also, it affects everyone differently.

For depression symptoms, you see things like "restlessness" or "slowed behavior, and "difficulty making decisions."

For mania, you see symptoms like "distractability" and "poor decision making."

One that's often left off is forgetfulness. Working memory takes a big hit.

Anyway, this brings me to the fact that when I am struggling along my brain is doing all of these things at the same time. Instead of balancing out, it overwhelms. Racing thoughts make for poor writing thoughts. It's hard to write when you can't grasp your ideas fully. Also, even if I have so many ideas it's hard to write them down if I have no motivation thanks to the depression.

The writing advice out there is to write every day, but that is bad advice for some people. Even if you don't have bipolar, you may have other reasons that you can't write every day. Instead, I go by my own advice: If I feel like writing I will. If I feel like my head is about to explode, I'll just relax instead.

That was how this week went. I didn't write but I did other things for my writing. I participated in hashtag games about developing my story. I thought about my characters. I allowed the story to "download" into my brain. Once things even out, I'll be ready to go and writing again. If you need proof that my process works, I have started and completed a book. I didn't write every day, but I did finish what I started.

I hope this helps some people to know that taking care of yourself is important and there's no need to feel guilty if you can't write every day.

Saturday, April 1, 2017

Writing Project Update!

This has been a week of ups and downs.

Last weekend I made great progress on my Regency Romance. As the week wore on I had too much going on and was unable to add more, although I did a lot of research. I came to the conclusion that the story should be told in parts, or acts, to facilitate that the situations at the beginning will be taking place one year before the rest of the story.

Secondly, my new Contemporary Romance is on hold for the moment. I might write on it if inspiration strikes (which it often does.) It is officially "on hold," however; so don't expect it
anytime soon.

Third, I may continue with the second book of the Patient Love series after all. I received some very encouraging feedback and I do love Virginia and Grace. I may write a second book at least. This is a secondary project, but I did put down just over 100 words on it yesterday.

Needless to say, I have a lot going on and will have another finished project sometimes this year.

If you have any questions or feedback, please let me know in the comments. Thank you!

Saturday, March 25, 2017

Inspiration Strikes

It has been a week of ups and downs.

Mainly downs.

Yesterday, however; I had a sudden inspiration for a project I've been working on for a few weeks. This particular work was going to feature a wealthy young woman born into a long-time upper-class family struggling with her position. While I had three chapters completed already, it suddenly hit me that this story would be great as a Regency Romance - a style similar to that of Jane Austen.

I've always wanted to write a romance along those lines, but I've never tried. I've been nervous about writing in the genre because I know that the fans are very good at spotting errors. Well, I've decided to stand up to my fears and give it a try.

Last night I fully rewrote chapter one, researched, and watched Sense and Sensibility (BBC, 2008) just to get me rolling. As if I really need an excuse to watch Sense and Sensibility.

I have a really good feeling about this project!

You may have realized by this time that I am a pantser. I admit it. I research as I go (and then more research is done later as needed in editing.) I write when I feel. Romance, in my opinion, needs to be felt. I know others are able to plot the course, but I like to run blindly into the trees and see where I end up.

It's an adventure.

Now for a treat. Here is the opening to my project in its current state. The working title is Good Intentions. 

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     Joanna was late, as usual, for luncheon with her mother and sister. She had tried to be on time for once but had chosen to walk too far along her normal route, which only resulted in an equally long walk back. When at last she arrived in the morning room, her mother and sister were already seated at the table.
     “We were beginning to think you had forgotten,” Jenny said with her usual smug affectation.
     “It wasn’t my fault.” Joanna protested although she knew quite well that it was a falsehood.
     “Indeed,” Mother said, her tone was such that Joanna knew that she thought otherwise. “You wander so far afield it is a wonder that you find your way home at all.”
     Joanna grimaced at the observation. She was considered rebellious for her love of the local flora. Few were the days when she was not found outdoors with her notebook and her fingers were not blackened from her drawing pencil.
     She did not comment on her mother’s remark. The food was already served and Joanna was famished. Filling her plate with fruit, cheese, and bread slathered in honey, she took a hearty bite of the latter followed by a long draught from her tea. Her mother and sister stared at her with raised eyebrows.
     “I hope you recall your gown and not require another fitting,” Mother said.
     A blush crept up Joanna’s neck.
     “Shall we begin our business?” Mother asked.
     Jenny took the opportunity to draw the attention away from her sister. “The invitations were delivered from the printer this morning and I saw to it that they were paid in full. We can begin delivering the cards tomorrow morning and I suggest calling upon Mrs. Greenwood, Mrs. Watson, and Mrs. Ashford promptly as they will be most displeased should news reach them before their cards are in hand.”
     Mother nodded approvingly.
     “I have also ordered the candles to be delivered by the end of the week and the musicians have been paid in full,” Jenny continued, proving she was the pinnacle of domestic management, perfectly suited for whatever husband she managed to catch.
     “Well done, Jenny.” Mother’s eyes, bright with contentment, then turned upon her younger daughter. “Joanna?”
     Sitting straighter in her seat, she realized it was her turn to give her report on the duties mother had assigned to her. “The flowers shall be delivered the morning of the ball, and have been paid in full.”
     “And?” Mother asked, raising an impatient eyebrow.
     “And…” Joanna glanced around, hoping for a distraction, but none was to be found. There was something else? She could not remember.
     “Have you scheduled an artist for the floors?”
     Joanna swallowed hard as she remembered the task. “No,” she answered, not having more to say.
     Mother sighed impatiently. “Never mind. I shall add it to my own list of what remains to be done."
     Although the task had been whisked away from her own schedule, Joanna knew she had made a grievous error and caused her mother great disappointment.

Amanda Kestrel, 2017
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Thank you for reading. Please feel free to leave a comment.