| (c) 2007 Stefanie Worth |
Live, Love, Laugh: A Romantic Anthology
Available from Parker Publishing
Available from Parker Publishing
When I was invited to participate in a Parker anthology last year by
my colleague Natalie Dunbar, I had no idea what I'd write.
"How hard can a 14-page short be to come up with?," I thought.
Well, it was very tough to compress all my hopes, dreams,
conflict/motivation/goals for the two resulting characters into that
tight package. But I did it, and the concept worked. I love the story,
"Stealing a Moment." I hope you do, too.
Read a sneak peek below.
my colleague Natalie Dunbar, I had no idea what I'd write.
"How hard can a 14-page short be to come up with?," I thought.
Well, it was very tough to compress all my hopes, dreams,
conflict/motivation/goals for the two resulting characters into that
tight package. But I did it, and the concept worked. I love the story,
"Stealing a Moment." I hope you do, too.
Read a sneak peek below.
Except for missing Caleb, Ronni liked Angel Acres. Earthly day-to-day drudgeries such as
alarm clocks, bills and dieting had no place behind the Pearly Gates and simply weren’t
allowed. No, here, obviously, you were in because you were good enough in your current
form. On that account, Ronni found that the Good Book held true.
While dying early, paying late or indulging your sweet tooth at-will made great reasons to
berate Self and deny Success down there, Angel Acres’ inclusiveness would force Webster
to re-define diversity and make Forbes question its standards of achievement.
Familiar street corner faces stood proud among the clouds, holding prominent positions as
Orphan Escorts and Prayer Runners. Others, like her, who’d begged for time to rest from
down below got their wish and did little else up here. Sure, she helped out; sorting Shouts
for Mercy and Cries for Justice from Mate Requests and Pleas for Children, ensuring each
item reached its proper coordinator in timely fashion.
But the ease of filing prayers in their designated slots left Ronni’s mind all the hours she’d
once wished for to want what she left behind.
Though keeping tabs on time was fiercely frowned upon, Ronni did it anyway. She marked
the minutes, days and years spent separated from her husband with a row of stars tucked
just-so behind Venus. Now, done with her day’s duties, she strolled the glittering pathway
toward her quiet spot a few light years from earth to await evening and tick off another day.
Her white chiffon skirt billowed and deflated as she settled onto a string of the constellation
Lyra, a harp-shaped star set that gave her a clear view of Michigan. And even though she
couldn’t see him from here, Ronni knew Caleb was close.
She watched the summer sky divide itself between day and night, waited until the stew of
changing hues blended and parted, and reached into a sliver of periwinkle twilight to pluck
an early star from the rising evening mist. Dampening the tip of her finger with a tap on her
tongue, she drew the number 1826 across the star’s front half and stood to place it beside
the other markers.
Perhaps it was fitting that the chosen star, tiny but fiery, seemed to burst with energy. She
still hadn’t adjusted to being plucked from her world and living in Angel Acres anymore than
this celestial body seemed to appreciate leaving its nebula to serve as a tally.
Despite being chosen to represent today, the Fifth Anniversary of her death, Ronni had a
hard time containing it to her cupped palms, where it should have calmed by now and been
ready for its new home. Instead, it grew more restless, spinning out of control before
launching itself free.
She lunged into the clouds in pursuit, but before she could retrieve the wayward star, it fell
over the edge of a rainbow and disappeared into the sky below. She wasn’t sure what the
penance would be, but Ronni knew there’d be a price to pay for the celestial body she’d
lost.
She flumped onto the band of colors to weigh her options of chasing the escapee or facing
her punishment. The pause allowed her to absorb the rainbow’s auras and the elements
around them: sunshine from the west, rain in the east, and strains of earthly wishes to find
the pot of gold at the end of her resting place. Then, through the clamor of her lonely
thoughts, a hoarse sing-song plea rose above the atmosphere.
“. . .First star I see tonight,” it begged. “I wish I may. . .somehow if I. . .could hold my wife
just one more time.”
Ronni knew better, yet she jumped anyway: no longer chasing the star, but heeding the
voice.
alarm clocks, bills and dieting had no place behind the Pearly Gates and simply weren’t
allowed. No, here, obviously, you were in because you were good enough in your current
form. On that account, Ronni found that the Good Book held true.
While dying early, paying late or indulging your sweet tooth at-will made great reasons to
berate Self and deny Success down there, Angel Acres’ inclusiveness would force Webster
to re-define diversity and make Forbes question its standards of achievement.
Familiar street corner faces stood proud among the clouds, holding prominent positions as
Orphan Escorts and Prayer Runners. Others, like her, who’d begged for time to rest from
down below got their wish and did little else up here. Sure, she helped out; sorting Shouts
for Mercy and Cries for Justice from Mate Requests and Pleas for Children, ensuring each
item reached its proper coordinator in timely fashion.
But the ease of filing prayers in their designated slots left Ronni’s mind all the hours she’d
once wished for to want what she left behind.
Though keeping tabs on time was fiercely frowned upon, Ronni did it anyway. She marked
the minutes, days and years spent separated from her husband with a row of stars tucked
just-so behind Venus. Now, done with her day’s duties, she strolled the glittering pathway
toward her quiet spot a few light years from earth to await evening and tick off another day.
Her white chiffon skirt billowed and deflated as she settled onto a string of the constellation
Lyra, a harp-shaped star set that gave her a clear view of Michigan. And even though she
couldn’t see him from here, Ronni knew Caleb was close.
She watched the summer sky divide itself between day and night, waited until the stew of
changing hues blended and parted, and reached into a sliver of periwinkle twilight to pluck
an early star from the rising evening mist. Dampening the tip of her finger with a tap on her
tongue, she drew the number 1826 across the star’s front half and stood to place it beside
the other markers.
Perhaps it was fitting that the chosen star, tiny but fiery, seemed to burst with energy. She
still hadn’t adjusted to being plucked from her world and living in Angel Acres anymore than
this celestial body seemed to appreciate leaving its nebula to serve as a tally.
Despite being chosen to represent today, the Fifth Anniversary of her death, Ronni had a
hard time containing it to her cupped palms, where it should have calmed by now and been
ready for its new home. Instead, it grew more restless, spinning out of control before
launching itself free.
She lunged into the clouds in pursuit, but before she could retrieve the wayward star, it fell
over the edge of a rainbow and disappeared into the sky below. She wasn’t sure what the
penance would be, but Ronni knew there’d be a price to pay for the celestial body she’d
lost.
She flumped onto the band of colors to weigh her options of chasing the escapee or facing
her punishment. The pause allowed her to absorb the rainbow’s auras and the elements
around them: sunshine from the west, rain in the east, and strains of earthly wishes to find
the pot of gold at the end of her resting place. Then, through the clamor of her lonely
thoughts, a hoarse sing-song plea rose above the atmosphere.
“. . .First star I see tonight,” it begged. “I wish I may. . .somehow if I. . .could hold my wife
just one more time.”
Ronni knew better, yet she jumped anyway: no longer chasing the star, but heeding the
voice.
Stealing a Moment from Live, Love, Laugh
An unedited excerpt from scene one
An unedited excerpt from scene one
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| Purchase the Live, Love, Laugh anthology here |
