Tuesday Tales: From the Word TURKEY

Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. After gorgeous late fall temperatures in the 70s, it snowed last week. Considering we’re just a little more than a month from Christmas Day, it was bound to happen. Hubby is back at work, no worse for the wear and tear, and things are slowly getting back to normal.

With that in mind, Happy Thanksgiving to all of my American friends. It’s been another difficult year, but I’m sure everyone can find something for which to be grateful. I know I can.

This week’s word prompt is TURKEY. I’m continuing with my as yet unnamed but revamped paranormal romance. Thanks go out to my good friend Vicki for this perfect picture to match this week’s scene. This might seem as if it’s coming out of nowhere, but the turkey was mentioned in a scene at the very beginning of the book. What goes around, comes around. Enjoy!

“How did things go last night?” Aunt Selma shifted in the chair.

“Very well. Several people came by looking for you and your elixirs, including Elise Melrose.”

“Ah, yes. I forgot to mention that she would be coming by. The poor thing is so stressed. Such a sad event. It breaks Hester’s heart as well as mine. There’s a case of premixed Number 27 in the storage room. I wish there were more I could do for her, but she’s resistant to the goddess, and belief can’t be forced any more than you can talk commonsense to a turkey.”

Anca blinked. “Turkey? What turkey?” Was the anesthetic from yesterday still befuddling her aunt’s brain?

“If I didn’t know better, I would swear it was the same one who’s been pestering this property for as long as I’ve lived. The old tom is the patriarch of that small rafter that lives near the family cemetery. At one time, I thought he might be a reincarnated spirit, but if he is, he was a stubborn old fool before and has remained that way. I had Colby trap him and take him and a few of his hens into the woods a good ten miles from town a couple of weeks ago, and wasn’t the same stupid bird right back there the following week? I was going to ask Hattie to see if one of the ghosts could help, but we’ve all been so busy. That bird is a nuisance and just won’t learn his place. Who knows, maybe one of the hunters will shoot him this year and have him for Thanksgiving dinner. It would serve him right. All I’m trying to do is help him.”

“You mean like you’ve tried to help me?”

Aunt Selma sighed. “I suppose I do, although that wasn’t all your fault. Have you met my guests?”

If it wasn’t her fault, whose was it? There were days when she probably was as dunderheaded as that turkey.

“Yes.” No need to remind her that I’d mentioned that last night when I’d come by. “They aren’t what I expected.” She searched for the right words. “For documentarians and cameramen, I thought they would be more scholarly,” and less thuggish. “I … I wanted to check something on the computer, but—”

“Did you forget the password? I don’t think I changed it. It should be CCottage **13.”

That’s it. Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.