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The winner of the prize for offering a recipe is Retta. The winner of the grand prize is Marybell. Ladies email me your address at elainecsc@aol.com I want to get your prize in the mail.
Let's have one excerpt from A New Dream. In this excerpt Matt and Violet meet for the first time. A New Dream is available at
“Psst, Marjorie, he’s here.”
Marjorie English finished the swirl of yellow roses on the
cake in front of her before she answered. “Who’s here, Violet?”
“The new manager,” she whispered.
Marjorie wiped her hands on a towel and joined Violet at the
front counter. “Poor man,” she remarked as a look of compassion
spread across her face.
“I thought he’d be all scarred up,” Violet confessed, “but
from a distance he looks fine.”
“He wasn’t hurt anywhere except his legs.”
Marshall Chapman, the retiring manager of Chef’s Pantry,
the largest grocery store in Wellington, had slowed his customary
brisk pace to accommodate the limping man beside him. He saw
Violet and Marjorie at the bakery counter and paused to introduce
them.
“Good morning, ladies. I’d like you to meet your new boss,
Matt McCallum. Matt, Marjorie English is the manager of our
bakery department, and Violet Emerson is her assistant.”
Matt shook hands with each of the women. “Tomorrow is
my brother’s birthday, Mrs. English. My mother asked me to order
a cake from you.”
Marjorie smiled at him, the open, friendly smile she
reserved for special people. “What would you like on the cake, Mr.
McCallum?”
“Please, call me Matt. She didn’t say what to get. He’s been
offered a football scholarship at Tri State Tech, so maybe a football
theme.”
“He’ll be playing for my son-‐‑in-‐‑law, Kurt Deveraux,”
Marjorie said.
“Well, how about that? They say he’s a good coach.”
Marjorie just laughed. “We think he is. I believe I’ll let
Violet do your cake if that’s okay. She’ll do a nice job for you.”
“That’s fine.”
“Leave it to me,” Violet promised. “I know just the thing.”
Marshall moved the new manager along, so the women
went back to work.
Violet reached for a sack of flour. “I wonder if he has a
girlfriend?”
“Who? Marshall? I think he’s married,” Marjorie teased.
Violet felt her face turn pink. “No, Matt McCallum.”
“Handsome, isn’t he?”
“He goes beyond handsome,” Violet declared, eyes
sparkling. “How tall do you think he is?”
“Oh, probably six two or six three,” Marjorie replied as she
boxed the cake she had just finished decorating.
“You could see the muscles in his chest through his shirt.”
Marjorie grinned at Violet. “I thought you liked brunettes.
Matt’s blonde.”
“Well, his hair is a dark blonde,” Violet defended herself.
“And his eyes are a pretty shade of blue.”
Marjorie laughed as she removed a pecan pie from one of
the store’s big ovens. “Violet, I think you’ve got a crush on the
man.”
Violet ducked her head. “He is awfully sexy. He can’t walk
too well, though.”
Laughter faded from Marjorie’s face. “He’s lucky to be
walking at all the way I hear it. They had to amputate his right leg
above the knee, and his left leg was so mangled and crushed he’ll
always walk with a limp.”
Violet stared toward the manager’s office even though Matt
was nowhere to be seen. “Can you imagine what it must be like for
him? He was a big football star. He was going to have the world on
a string, and now he can hardly walk.”
“And his brother has a football scholarship. That has to
hurt,” Marjorie observed with a shake of her head.
She tore off a piece of plastic wrap to cover the pecan pie.
“Violet, if you like Matt’s looks, why don’t you flirt with him?”
Violet laughed and rolled her eyes. “I’ll get right on it.”
“I’m serious,” Marjorie insisted. “I know you were a sickly
child, but you’re as healthy as a horse now. It’s time for you to
stretch your wings and start thinking about a family of your own.
Matt McCallum liked what he saw, and so did you.”
Violet cocked her head and thought for a minute. “How do
you know he liked what he saw?”
Marjorie paused for a good laugh. “Can’t you tell when a
man likes your looks? He couldn’t take his eyes off you.” She
slapped a sticker on the pie and went to place it on the shelf beside
the muffins. She returned to the bakery and said, “You’re like a
breath of fresh air in a stuffy room. You aren’t selfish and jaded like
a lot of young women I know, which is a surprise because your
parents were so protective of you when you were younger.” She
reached for a bag of sugar. “So, why wouldn’t Matt be interested?”
Violet shrugged and threw up her hands, and Marjorie went
to take a birthday cake order from a customer. Could Marjorie be
right? Could Matt McCallum ever take an interest in someone like
her? Violet pondered the matter as she pulled out the ingredients
she’d need for Matt’s cake. He was like a fairy tale prince come to
life in a mundane setting like a grocery store.
When she was little, she had a storybook that told the story
of Cinderella. Matt McCallum resembled the story book prince in
so many ways. He was tall and blond as was Matt, and like Matt,
he had a handsome face. The prince in the storybook had six pack
abs, and from what little she’d seen of Matt, she’d bet he did too.
No matter what Marjorie said, she would never expect
someone like him to be interested in her. Superstars didn’t date
little violets. Oh, she guessed she was pretty; everyone said so but
inexperienced, gauche girls didn’t attract men like Matt McCallum.
It didn’t hurt to daydream about him, though. She’d make him a
beautiful cake. At least she could do that much for him.
My Books!
Showing posts with label bakers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bakers. Show all posts
Friday, April 1, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Did She Do A Job On Him!
In this excerpt, Matt meets with his physical therapist. If you want to read the excerpts in order, go the first cupcake post and work your way back. A New Dream is available at http://www.astraeapress.com/#ecwid:category=662245&mode=product&product=2676585
Matt stared at the empty physical therapy room and took a
sip of the hospital brew the physical therapy assistant had given
him. It could use a little work, but it did have a much needed jolt of
caffeine in it. He sighed, blinking away sleep. Why’d they schedule
him so early in the morning? He could have slept a little longer. It
wasn’t like he had anything to do.
The door opened with a click, and a tall, well--built, young
man with dark hair entered the physical therapy office.
The man poured himself a cup of coffee. “Who’s the new
guy?”
The physical therapy assistant, Betty she’d said her name
was, shoved a folder at him. “Matt McCallum.”
“Oh, yeah. Man, that’s a shame.”
Betty scowled at him. “It’s always a shame when people are
hurt as bad as he was, Being a football player doesn’t make him
any different from anyone else.”
“I know and I didn’t mean anything bad. It’s just that he
played one year of pro ball, and it looked like he was going to be
one of the greats. Now, he’s here to get fitted for a prosthesis.”
“Well, I think he needs some counseling. He has that dull,
withdrawn, shell--shocked look on his face.”
“Most amputees feel that way in the beginning,” the man
answered. “We can schedule him with Dr. Whitney if we need
too.”
Matt’s fists clenched. Didn’t they know he could hear them?
Didn’t they know how it made him feel for them to talk about him
like he was an old, washed up nobody?
The man picked up a file and joined him in the waiting area.
“Hi, Matt. I’m Sam Dickson.”
He held out his hand, and Matt took it briefly.
Sam indicated the file in his hand. “It says here you got the
bandages off yesterday and that the stump is nicely healed. Is that
right?”
Matt shrugged. “I guess.”
“Your other leg is banged up pretty bad too, so we have to
work with that as well, but the sooner we get started, the better off
you’ll be.”
“That’s what they say.”
Sam nodded. “Okay, today I’ll show you how to take care of
yourself. After that we’ll fit you for a temporary prosthesis.”
Matt’s head spun; he swallowed hard and focused on a bar
mounted on the wall to steady himself. “All right.”
Matt was a quick study. He paid close attention when Sam
showed him how to clean and protect the stump. Then, Sam passed
him the sock that went over it. “You put it on,” he said.
Matt repressed the shudder that shook him as he pulled the
sock on and smoothed it.
“Very good,” Sam approved. “I hope
your motivation is this good once we get you up to walk.” He
laughed. “As a former athlete, a physical task might be more
appealing than what you just learned.”
Matt drew a deep, shaky breath. Of course he was
motivated! It humiliated him when anybody saw his legs or had to
help him get around. He was desperate to regain some control over
his own body.
A tall, striking brunette passed through the room and
waved to Sam who grinned and waved back at her. “Gorgeous isn’t
she?” he asked Matt, the look on his face reminding Matt of a
gamboling, goofy puppy. “Layla is her name. I’ve been trying to
get her to go out with me.”
Matt barely glanced at her. “Yeah, she’s pretty.”
Sam eyed Matt with a quizzical expression on his face.
“That was sure lukewarm, buddy. A woman that drop dead
gorgeous ought to get your heart pumping. Are you worried about
women now that you’ve lost your leg?”
Matt’s face colored, but he made no reply.
“Man, you need to think about how lucky you are. I know
you’ve lost a lot, but you can still be with a woman and father
children. Hurting your legs doesn’t mean the romantic side of life is
over for you.”
Matt raised his eyes to Sam’s for the first time. “You left out
one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Not too many women are interested in having sex with a
cripple. Seeing a stump like mine is a good way to kill the
romance.”
Sam squatted down so he and Matt were on eye level with
each other. “Matt, the nurses said you’re engaged. Have you talked
to your fiancĂ©e about all this?”
“That won’t be necessary. Stacey was with me yesterday
when the bandages came off. She turned as white as a sheet and
said she had to go home. A messenger brought her engagement
ring to me this morning.”
Matt cringed when he saw the look of pity of Sam’s face.
His stark, unemotional rendering of the facts hadn’t fooled the
therapist.
Sam slapped his shoulder and said, “Not all women are like
that, buddy. Some of them will stand by a man through thick and
thin. Next time you’ll choose better, right?” He stood up and took
hold of the handles on Matt’s wheelchair. “Let’s see about fitting
that prosthesis so we can get you walking again
Friday, February 11, 2011
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