 Happy August, everyone! We are finally getting some summer-like weather here in Northern BC and my mood has improved along with the temperatures. This week on the blog hop, it’s Flash Fiction time! Write 500 words and include Pickle, Letter and Looking Glass. If you joined me from Clair Brett, welcome. And without further ado, here is my short but (hopefully) sweet contribution. Jacinta was in a pickle. And it was her own fault. What had possessed her to read the letter? It wasn’t her fault she’d opened it—it had been in a stack of office mail, and it was her job to open everything addressed to her boss. Once she’d realized it was a personal letter, she should have immediately folded it away and put it aside. But she hadn’t realized until she’d read the first few lines, and by then it was much too late to stop. And now that she’d read it once, she couldn’t help but read the short missive over and over. Dear Alexander, I know you told me never to get in touch, but I am hoping you might have found a little forgiveness by now. You will never be able to forget the hurtful things I said. That is too much to wish for. And yet I do wish it. If a reconciliation between us is at all possible, please meet me Thursday at one o’clock at the park. You know where I mean. If you do not appear, I will never bother you again. With love, Mom “Jacinta? Can I see you for a moment?” She looked up, flushing guiltily. As if summoned by the words on the page, Alexander McIntyre stood in her doorway. She’d been his administrative assistant for two years now, and their relationship was strictly professional. Other than the fact her toes curled when she looked at him. Every. Single. Time. Reading the letter from his mother had been a horrible violation of that trust, and she had no idea what to do about it. “Jacinta?” He frowned. “Are you okay?” Her blush deepened and sweat prickled between her shoulder blades. “Yes, I’m fine. What do you need?” His glance narrowed. “Are you sure? You look a little feverish.” Maybe it was better just to get it over with. She had to give him the letter, and there was no way to seal the envelope again to make it look unopened, as she’d slit the seam with a letter opener. She held it out. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have opened it, but I didn’t know.” He took it from her and slid the single page out. His entire body seemed to freeze in place. Fury replaced the confused expression her words has sparked. “Did you read it?” The words were clipped and cold. “I’m sorry,” she repeated helplessly. “I couldn’t help it.” “You had no right.” “I know. I’m so, so, sorry.” For a moment she thought he was going to throw the page to the floor and stomp out. But as quickly as his fury had flared, it faded, leaving him looking lost and lonely. It gave her the courage to speak. “Is there anything I can do?” she said softly. He shook his head. “This isn’t anything my administrative assistant can fix.” His gaze locked on hers. “No matter how wonderful she is.” Feeling like Alice stepping through the looking glass, she said the words that would change their relationship forever. “What about your friend? Is it something she can fix?” Well, I’m over the 500-word limit, so I guess I’ll have to leave you hanging. 😊 But I hope you enjoyed this little scene. Now hop over to Leslie Hachtel to see what she came up with.  Why not check out Leslie's paranormal romance, THE DREAM DANCER, only 99 cents right now!
Lady Bryce has a gift. She can enter dreams and persuade her will onto others. It has served her well, especially in eliminating unsatisfactory suitors of her father's choosing. But when she encounters Lord Rowland she wants him more than anything and decides to visit him in his sleep and make him desire her above all others. When she has driven Rowland to the edge of longing, she extracts a promise that he will marry her. As time passes, Bryce and Rowland fall in love. But will their love be able to conquer all once Bryce’s secret is revealed? Rowland must decide if he truly loves her or has been bewitched. Available to purchase here!
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