Sunday Snippet “Gumbo Ya Ya” (Soon to be Released) by Connie Vines

September 2017 is the release date of my anthology, Gumbo Ya Ya, by my publisher BWL Publishing.  And, as always, BWL’s art director, Michelle Houston, has designed a spectacular book cover for  me—with just enough heat to pepper every woman Gumbo!

Here’s a little teaser from, “A Slice of Scandal”, the third story in my Cajun anthology!


“Hey, now, ‘dis key lime pie’s like de one I sever at my restaurant.  Simple to make and good to eat!  Key limes perk up de mouth and makes you happy.”

Producer/Director, Julia Kincaid focused on her monitor and adjusted the mic of her headset. “Camera One, tighten that head shot.”  She watched as the camera feathered over the chef to capture the best angle.  The camera should have loved Chef Franklin.  His height was average, his hair black, short and curly and his skin gook on a polished bronze color under the harsh camera lights, but the camera didn’t like Franklin.  There was something about his eyes; like dark agate, forbidding and expressionless that was difficult to erase.

“Okay.  Now hold it, while Chef Franklin pulls the second pie from the refrigerator.  Follow him back to the island.  Good.”

When the chef stood on his mark, Julia said, “Cue the music.  Okay, Two, scan the audience. Back to Franklin.”

“It’s best to serve ‘dis chilled, a twist of key lime on the top. And, boy-oh, boy, does ‘dis taste goood!”

“Camera Two, pan the audience. . .focus on the pie. . .Camera One, close-up on the chef. . .Hold it.”

Julia heard the studio audience applause.

“Now, pull back. He cuts the pie. . . he puts it on the plate. . .now wait for the whipped cream and . . .okay. . .he’d got the fork. He’s taking a bite.”

The studio audience uttered a collective sigh.

“Let’s call it a day. . .”  Julia said, pulling off her headset and allowing it to dangle around her neck.  “Hey, Hey, what’s he doing, now?” she asked J.D., “This is where he says goodnight.  What’s he doing?”  Snagging the mic that was clipped at her waist she barked, “Someone cue Franklin.  He’s off his mark.”  It was times like this she questioned her sanity at trading a career in Hollywood daytime T.V. for that of the Good Eats Network in Orlando, Florida.  

From her left, she heard J.D. groan.  “Julia, Franklin’s spitting out the pie!  Harvey’s gonna boil all of our carcasses in the stock pot for--”

Julia hopped down from the camera and took off at a full run toward Franklin, the sound of clanging pots and pans crashing to the floor barely registering.

Gone was the applause.  People jumped to their feet.  People screamed.

“He’s on the floor!” J.D. bellowed.

Julia could see that!  Kneeling down beside Franklin, her fingers felt a faint pulse. “J.D. call the medics!  Franklin must be having a heart attack.”  


I hope you enjoyed this little snippet from my next release.
More anthology snippets to come!

Happy Reading,

Connie

A Poodle, a Wedding Anniversary, and a Opossum By Connie Vines

I had an article about the craft of writing written and ready to post.  I decided, instead, to share that post on a later date..

Why?

For those of you who follow my Twitter, Instagram, author Facebook page, or website, you know I often share stories about my little poodle-mix puppy, Chanel.

Please, no groaning from those of you who prefer cats.

Chanel, is lively, friendly, and poodle-like in her powers of reasoning.

She is also serious about her friendships.

Well, before the SoCal winter rains, there was a young opossum who would walk along the block wall several nights a week at 2:00 A.M.  I know this because this is the time I usually finish writing and get ready for bed.  Chanel dance in a circle requesting to step outside.  She would run over to the wall and bark, causing the little white-faced opossum to dart away.

I would pick her up, instructing her to leave “Harvey” alone.  (Yes, I know he is a wild animal and does not possess a name.)  Chanel, however, knows every ‘thing’, be it a person, toy (bouncy-ball, Side-kick, blue bouncy-ball), animal, or ‘food’, has a name.

So, this opossum was dubbed Harvey.

Harvey didn’t return during the rains, or afterwards.  Then, magically, one night a larger, more attractive, and braver “Harvey’ returned.

This time he sat on the wall and waited for Chanel to bark at him.  I’d pick her up, bid “Harvey” good evening.  While the two of them stared at each other for a few moments.  We’d go in and Harvey would leave.

Where does “Harvey” live?  I believe he lives in the yard next door (the owner is a bit of a zealous ‘collector’), or perhaps in the shrubby in a nearby park.  I’m not too sure if he has a family.

It has never gone past the ‘flirting’ stage with Chanel.   And ‘Harvey’ never ventures into our yard when we are about.

Today, all of that changed.

Today was my wedding anniversary.  My husband and I went to local home-style diner for an early dinner.  We bid Chanel bye and promised to bring her home a mini-hamburger patty.  No. Sorry. No riding in the car this time.

When we got back to the car, packed left-overs and doggie meal in hand, my husband voice his concern about something handing from his side bumper.

I bent over to examine it.  While my husband kept saying he would yank the piece of the plant out from the bumper, I objected.

It wasn’t a plant.

It had an odd texture.  It was a pale color.  It was a snake, no. A rat. . .oh, no!

It was the hook of a opossum’s tail.


“Harvey!”

“Harvey?” my husband questioned.

“Yes.  See, that’s Harvey’s tail.”  The tail went limp, they turned back into a hook.

“This could only happen to you.” was my husband’s only response.

“Harvey just wanted to join us for our anniversary dinner.”

My husband stifled a chuckle.  “I doubt that very much.”

“Now at least we know where he sleeps during the day.”

So, we drove home via the city streets, so not to ‘over heat’ Harvey.  When we arrived home, Harvey had pulled his tail back up into the wheel well, waiting for us to leave.

Do you have an interesting anniversary story to share?

Happy Reading,
Connie

P.S.
Yes, Harvey did return several days later to visit an 'concerned' Chanel (she been looking for him every night).

Harvey appeared a little road-weary--not quite as tidy and his face appeared a little dirty, and moving like he had a few sore muscles, but otherwise, his usual Opossum self.