Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales, the blog that lets you look at the work in process of the authors involved in it. It is still bitterly cold where I am, -20 C, -28C with the wind or -4F and -18F for my readers in the US. This week, our word prompt is BLEAK, like the weather with 15 cm or 6 inches of snow in the forecast for today. I am so over winter!
I’m continuing with my Cozy Mystery, The Case of the Missing Prince. and I have a surprise for you! That’s right. Here’s the cover.
Al laughed. “You don’t have to cover up on my account. I thoroughly enjoy the view.”
Cheeks burning, I forced myself to drop the sheet.
“Then, you might as well get an eyeful!” Drawing on my bravado, I stood, reached for the coffee mug, and flounced down the hallway to the bathroom, as if I were a runway model in Paris during fashion week, showing off the latest couture design. “Eat your heart out!”
Al’s rumbling laughter followed me down the hallway. “I will, but I’m saving you for dessert after dinner.”
Now, that was something that would keep me going today.
Twenty minutes later, casually dressed in jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt, and half-boots, I entered the kitchen. Al sat at the table, engrossed in something on his laptop. Knowing my breath was now minty-fresh, I bent down and kissed him.
“Good morning.” I inhaled deeply allowing his forest-fresh aftershave to blend with the aroma of coffee, cinnamon, and maple syrup. “It smells fantastic in here.” I glanced at his laptop and noted that he was catching up on the news on the CBC app. “Anything special going on in the world today?” Most of the news was pretty bleak these days, but one had to stay informed.
He shook his head. “Not much. Same old rants and raves, but it appears to be a slow news day.”
“Well, that’s a blessing. Lately, we don’t get many of them. The old saying, ‘no news is good news,’ has never been more accurate.” I sipped from my half-empty mug, the coffee now cooler than I liked. I made a face and set it down. “Did you get a chance to look over the files again? The ones from my interview with Emile, Jacob, Petrov, and Viktor?”
He nodded before standing and going over to the counter, coming back with the carafe and refilling my mug with hot coffee before going back over to the stove. He opened the oven door and took out two plates covered in French toast, complete with the sliced bananas he’d promised, and decorated with powdered sugar that I didn’t even know I had. The can of maple syrup sat in the center of the table.
“I did. Loved the way you referred to Viktor as Mr. Male Chauvinist Pig, MCP for short.”
I shrugged. “He did apologize … sort of, but it didn’t feel sincere.”
“It probably wasn’t.” His gaze met mine and held it. “Is that why you wanted me here? Because you think he won’t follow your leadership?”
I shook my head. “It did cross my mind that he would be difficult, but that isn’t why I wanted you here. I trust you. I don’t trust him. And I missed you. You were coming soon, and I wanted you here sooner,” I admitted.
Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.
Living the Dream 