Rachel Harlin: The New Year's Bath

Friday, December 31, 2010

The New Year's Bath

It's New Year's Eve and people will visit friends, go to parties, and generally have a good time! So, as I was going about something to write, I debated between writing resolutions and...well...writing resolutions. What else do you write about this time of year?
Then I came across a picture and had an idea. I'd tell you a story.

I once went to a party at a club in the city on New Year's Eve. My friend, Julie, and I were bored and looking for a good time. Though, I don't recall the name of the club, I do remember the events. We had a couple sodas and danced the night away. We saw a few of our friends from work, but they were distracted so we moved on.
Late into the night, we met this guy. His nose was straight, and his eyes were kind. But his facial hair took all attention away from any other perfection he possessed. His beard was long and scraggly, and who knew what it might have housed. Bits of cracker and something green clung to the fuzzy mass.
He introduced himself as Mark, and we tried to slide away. Not only was his beard home to many midnight snacks, he moved remarkably fast and blocked our path. We turned, and he somehow positioned himself between us and our escape. I thought we were trapped. I looked behind us and other unsavory characters had converged around us, all smiling.
I looked up. The disco ball loomed over my head.
The people around us must be drunk. They continued to point upwards and laugh.
I wondered if we crawled through their legs if we could get away.
Then the countdown began. 10, 9, 8...
I dropped to the floor and a set of hands lifted me back up. I stared into the face of Mark and flinched backwards. He smelled as sour as he looked. A good bath would do him good.
7, 6, 5, 4...
Julie grabbed my hand and launched us into the crowd, but they pushed us back. We were stuck.
3, 2, 1...
Everyone screamed! I felt something ooze over my shoulder. There was too much of it to be slobber. I looked up and saw...

Happy New Year!!

(Please remember, I write fiction! However, this picture inspires all sorts of stories. Can you think of one?)

2 comments:

Rebecca Irvine said...: Looks a bit crazy! But fun ;-).

Happy New Year! I hope 2011 is as great for you (& even better) than 2010. :-); January 2, 2011 at 9:05 PM
Rachel Harlin said...: It actually does look like a lot of fun!!! :) I wonder where it was.; January 4, 2011 at 10:05 PM

About Me

There is nothing more wonderful than sitting down with a good book. I believe that you should be able to do that without wondering if something inappropriate is going to be slipped in or if you may be preached to. When I sit down to read a book and relax, I want to be swept away; I want to be entertained; I want to forget about the trouble in my own life and enjoy a little romance. That is what you will find here. Romance. Good, clean wholesome ROMANCE!

My first book, By Love or By Sea, (by Rachel Rager) is available in paperback and ebook.

Query Letter

Dear Agent,

Ivy Lewis, provider and nurturer for her seven siblings, finds herself lonely and forgotten. Accepting life as hopeless, she becomes entranced with daydreams of the handsome Lord Sterling Bennett, Earl of Oakly. Ivy soon realizes this charming man of wealth will torture her heart, unwittingly envelope her in dangerous secrets, and save her life.

Amidst such duress she finds herself spending time with the humble gardener, Mr. Alan, who has secrets of his own. Left confused betwixt two loves, she finds her way through the adventurous lies surrounding her love and her heart.

Through stigma and peril, Sweet Ivy embraces the inhibition of love and the serenity of a stranger.

My first novel, By Love or By Sea, was published by Cedar Fort, Inc. in April 2009. I am a member of ANWA and LDStorymakers.

Sweet Ivy has just over 99,500 words and is fully complete. I look forward to hearing from you.

Excerpt

Lord Sterling Bennett, the Earl of Oakly, stood in the dress shop with light streaming in upon him, accentuating his muscular build. His arms were extended as the women measured, pinned, and tugged at the fabric about his body. Mrs. Simmons measured for sleeves while Ivy worked on the earl’s trousers, endeavoring to make the appropriate measurements and adjustments. His style of dress was immaculate though she couldn’t help but notice he wore his trousers almost scandalously tight, revealing every taut muscle in his legs.
She shook her head to clear her thoughts.
Though her sister had recovered and was now quite well, her mother had worsened slightly. Sleep had not come easily the last several nights as she contemplated the fate of her family if her mother were to pass away.
She jumped when Mrs. Simmons spoke to the earl.
“I hear Eleanora Key is expecting a proposal for marriage from you, Sterling.”
Ivy remembered Eleanora bragging about courting Lord Bennett only a few days before. Her stomach churned at the thought of Eleanora and her selfish ideals.
“Is that so?”
“Yes. I take it your suit is a falsehood?”
“You are an insightful woman.”
Mabel Simmons blushed at his comment. She had worked in the Bennett household for many years prior to opening up her shop. Ivy didn’t know all the circumstances surrounding Mrs. Simmons’ decision to quit Red Oaks before the boys left for school, but she knew the Bennett boys would do anything for the woman. Only last year Lord Bennett had replaced the shop’s roof after a large rainstorm had torn it to shreds.
“I have no doubt that a proposal is expected,” Lord Bennett said. He brushed his dark, curly hair away from his well chiseled face, but it still hung wildly about his head.
“You will be attending her mother’s ball a week from Friday though?” Mrs. Simmons continued her interrogation.
“Sadly, yes. Mother is most insistent upon it. It is her greatest wish that I take a wife before the end of the summer.”
“I’m certain your mother’s desires are well founded, lad.”
“Perhaps, but…ouch!”
“I am sorry, my lord,” Ivy mumbled with lowered lashes, chin quivering. Clumsy as she was, she had never before let a pin slip and stick someone. Her cheeks burned with humiliation as his eyes, the color of molasses on a hot day, gazed down at her. She could not meet his heated stare.
“I would assume that in a profession such as yours, this sort of thing occurs from time to time. And while I accept your apology and give you my complete forgiveness, there is no need for you to feel like a bug under my shoe for such a simple slip.”
She glanced up and could not help but return his warm smile. Neither could she stop her heart from thudding within her chest. He turned toward the mirror again, looking very handsome even with fabric hanging around him this way and that.
She wondered what it might be like to be a lady and have handsome men smile at her on a regular basis. What would it be like to be seen as someone worthy of admiration, instead of forever invisible? Embarrassed that her mind would entertain ideas of being seen as anything but a servant in the eyes of an earl, she turned her gaze back to where it belonged. On her work.
As he continued his conversation with Mrs. Simmons, Ivy tried to steady her hands and pinned the cuff at his ankle. “It is my mother’s desire that I marry, but only so she may die knowing I will be well cared for.” Bitterness tainted his words.
“I’m certain there are many qualified young ladies around here that would be more than willing to apply for the position.”
“Is that what people think? That marrying me would be a job?”
Ivy lowered her head to hide a smile. Could he be so naïve not to realize the allure he held over women?
Mrs. Simmons moved to adjust his collar. “I suppose it all depends upon on the woman.”
“Yes, indeed.”
“Now, in the case of Miss Key, I think she is more than eager for the position whether you prove satisfactory or not.”
“Hmm. That is an interesting insight, Mabel.”
Ivy noticed his accidental use of the woman’s given name. Mrs. Simmons had once explained that the Bennett boys called her Mabel when they were younger. With another Mrs. Simmons who worked in the kitchens at Red Oaks, it simplified things. Though others may see disrespect in such a casual address, Ivy found it refreshing that Lord Bennett felt so comfortable with Mrs. Simmons.
“What do you think, miss?”
Ivy’s head snapped up, her gaze met with his.
“Would you consider it a job? Being married to me?”
“Um…I um…I certainly don’t know what you mean, my lord.”
Chuckling he said, “So then, you wouldn’t want to marry someone like me?”
“It’s not that. It’s just that….” She raised a hand to her warm cheek. She glanced to Mrs. Simmons for deliverance from such an embarrassing situation, but the woman grinned with a mischievous twinkle in her eye and would not be offering a reprieve. Looking back to Lord Bennett, Ivy tried to utter a reply. “I would never be qualified to marry a man such as you.” She cleared her throat and folded her hands in her lap. “I mean to be saying, my lord, that you deserve to love someone so much more than me in both beauty and station.”
“But that is not the question I asked.”
“No,” she whispered, casting her eyes downward before looking back at him again. She found acceptance and understanding shining in his eyes. His lips curved into a smile, neither mocking nor happy but rather inquisitive and friendly. Amid those things, she found voice enough to answer his question as honestly as her timid heart could.
“I would not find it a chore to be married to someone such as you. Though, if I marry, it will be for love without concern for duty or money.” She turned her eyes away from his probing gaze.
“See here, Mabel! This is a woman worth marrying. Honest and delightful. She would even gladden Mother’s sorrowful heart.”
Ivy blushed with further discomfort that he would say something so brazen with her sitting at his feet.
Mrs. Simmons laughed. “Now don’t be speaking ill of your mother, Sterling. She’s a good woman. She’s merely lonely.”
“I know.” His shoulders slumped with a heavy sigh. “Yet another reason she wishes me to marry quickly to give her grandchildren and take her mind off my late father.” He paused. “It makes me feel trapped, Mabel. Trapped into a life I don’t want.”
“Therein lies your problem, lad. You now have two choices. Continue on your path and keep your mother happy, or find the path that makes you happy and disappoint your mother.”
Silence followed.
“I’m not sure I know what I want, Mabel. But I don’t want what she has in mind.”
The woman smiled sympathetically but shook her head. “Be patient with her. She only wants what’s best for you, I’m sure.”
He straightened his shoulders. “Yes. And in the meantime, I am resigned to attend the Keys’ ball under the pretense that I will shortly be asking for the hand of Miss Eleanora.”
“You could let her know those are not your intentions, lad.”
“Only if I want to invite my mother’s wrath, besides, it is only a pretense. I can certainly play the part of the doting beau for quite a while before anything need be done.”
“But that’s a lie,” Ivy said, without realizing it. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, both Mrs. Simmons and Lord Bennett stared at her. The thought that such a generous man would court a woman he had no intention of marrying, merely to appease his mother, horrified her. She cast her eyes downward. “Forgive me,” she murmured.
“Whatever for, miss?”
“It is not my place to intrude,” Ivy whispered as she with a string on her apron. She watched a dust speck dance silently across the wooden planks of the floor.
Lord Bennett knelt so that his face was level with hers. She had no choice but to look at him. “First of all, there is nothing wrong with reminding someone of moral values, so I thank you. Second, you are a woman and a kind woman at that. There is no need for you to feel inferior in my presence.”
A timid smile played over her lips before her eyes returned to their previous position. His nearness made her feel overly warm. When he did not stand, she raised her eyes again to find his friendly expression still focused on her. She wondered if perhaps he had been in earnest in his comments. With all her heart, she wanted to believe that she was someone special in the world. In that instant, as she gazed into his eyes, she was almost convinced that she was.
“Stand up, Sterling Bennett, and quit embarrassing the girl.”
The bell to the shop rang, and Ivy looked up to see a thin man with sparkling eyes enter the shop. Removing his hat, he issued a slight bow.
“Excuse me, my lord. I’m here to remind you of your appointment.”
Ivy smiled as Mrs. Simmons cringed at the sound of the man’s thin voice.
“I’ll be along in a minute, Bradford. I’ll meet you at the livery.”
“Very good, sir,” Mr. Bradford said. “Good day, ladies.” A small incline of his head and he was out the door.
“How’s your brother?” Mrs. Simmons asked, adjusting the material around Lord Bennett’s shoulder.
He sighed. “Bruce will be Bruce.”
“I saw him getting stitched up the other day,” Mrs. Simmons pressed.
Sterling shook his head. “He’s lucky he’s still breathing,” he muttered. “That pup has no more sense than a mule.”
“He hasn’t changed?”
Sterling’s silence was answer enough, as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. Ivy’s brows puckered as she tried to think of what kind of trouble Bruce Bennett was causing.
“The impending war does not help. He sees it as a free ticket out of all his problems.”
“I’ve heard mention of such things. Is it more than rumor?”
He nodded. “Before long I’m afraid that King Roderick and his cousin will find a reason to engage one another in war.”
“His majesty couldn’t have been pleased with your return.”
“He has grown accustomed to my presence in Red Springs. But he understands the circumstances surrounding Bruce. It is the king’s greatest wish that scandal not be connected to my name.” His lips twisted bitterly. “That is why I was given leave to take care of him.”
Mrs. Simmons patted Sterling on the back in a maternal manner. “Cheer up, lad. He will figure it out one way or another. Let’s get you finished up, so you make that appointment. I’m sure Bradford would gladly have my head if I make you late.”
Lord Bennett laughed. “Bradford is not as fierce as you remember, Mabel. But business does await me. Some land owners are ridiculous in the requirements they demand of their tenants. When I quit here, I am bound to acquire more property from such a man.”
“I’m sure your mother is thrilled with your new purchases.” A hint of sarcasm touched her tone.
Sterling chuckled. “Mother doesn’t know. She’ll be furious when she learns of it.”
Continuing in her work, Ivy did not hear what else Lord Bennett said to Mrs. Simmons. Her own landlord was one of those terrible men the earl spoke of, on whom she preferred not to dwell. Instead, her mind lingered on her previous conversation with Lord Bennett. His manner toward her had not been sympathetic to her plights or position. No. He had treated her as an equal – someone who had reminded him of the moral values so easily forgotten in the world. While she knew she would never be able to associate with him, he had shown her a delightful glimpse into what such an association might be like.

Rachel Harlin

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Friday, December 31, 2010

The New Year's Bath

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