Parties on WIP Wednesday

mistletoeI’ve been celebrating some milestones this week: my blog birthday, the ninth month of Candle’s Christmas Chair, and the half-birthday of the Bluestocking Belles.

So I thought for this week’s work-in-progress Wednesday, the theme could be celebrations, parties, or events. Do you have a ball scene? A wedding? A fair? A birthday party? A banquet? Post seven to ten lines, and don’t forget to share!

Mine is from the Christmas party towards the end of Gingerbread Bride in the box set Mistletoe, Marriage, and Mayhem, currently on prelease from the Bluestocking Belles.

The kissing boughs had all been hung, making it perilous to traverse the house and garden. By the time the party started Mary had been kissed at least twenty times, all polite salutes on the cheek.

The party spilled all over the house and beyond: carols around the pianoforte in one of the parlors, silly games in another, a continual feast in the dining room, and dancing outside in the crisp night air. Mary managed to avoid being alone with Rick until almost the end of the evening, when he cornered her in a temporarily deserted parlor, most of the party out on the dance lawn in the garden.

“Mary.” There it was again. Her name, hummed in that beautiful voice of his, sounding like music. She turned her face upwards, tipping her cheek within easy reach, but he curved his neck as he bent, so his lips touched hers.

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8 thoughts on “Parties on WIP Wednesday

  1. This little teaser is from my Valentine Day release, My Lady Valentine. My only question will Lord Justin escape the parson’s mousetrap or not. If he doesn’t which of these ladies will he be marrying?—-
    “I can only think of three, two young ladies and Lord Justin. It would seem he’s been seen, by myself I should add, with them alone in rooms. Granted they were the gaming room and library. It’s just that the young lady didn’t even have a maid with her,” Amelia stated.
    “Would one be Lady Lara, the daughter to the Earl of Westwick?” Jessica said.
    “Yes, and her chaperone is Lady Lara’s great aunt who seems to be forgetful most of the time. That’s why we haven’t seen much of Lady Hallowston all that often,” Bianca announced.
    “And the other is Lady Anna. Her father is the Earl of Norwich with her mother, the countess, as chaperone. They have been seen strolling about the grounds without the countess,” Amelia added.

  2. From Shipmate, prequel to Royal Regard. The scene wherein Bella makes her first acquaintance with the Prince Regent.

    ***

    Bella sank into a curtsey so low she might have fallen over, had His Royal Highness not held out his hand to help her up. “This is the young lady, then, Holsworthy? What is your name? My apologies for having forgotten.”

    “Miss Isabella Smithson, Your Royal Highness, of Somerset,” she squeaked. “I am called Bella.”

    “Cousin to Firthley, is that not correct?” Alexander stepped forward to confirm the relationship, Charlotte curtseying for the second time in as many minutes, as low as Bella, nearly as dumbstruck. Myron and Alexander’s attempts to shield Bella from the prince collided, both nattering about her, but not allowing her to speak.

    “Stop, gentlemen. Stop.” The prince held out his hand. “I shall speak to the young lady alone, for I will ascertain her mind in this.”

  3. Thanks, Jude. Nice excerpt. Vivid description of both the setting and what’s going on in the protag’s head.

    Here’s a special event in my medieval fantasy romance work in progress, “The Weeping Dragon”. My heroine, Dorrit, is at a banquet hosted by her father, Sir Reginald. The guest of honor is the knight she secretly loves, but can’t have. Not at this stage of the story. As always, feedback is welcome.

    Sir Reginald said, “Dorrit, my most honored guest has asked that you play your harp for him.”
    Her heart skipped a beat. “Why, yes, I’d be happy to,” she blurted out, trying not to sound nervous. And failing.
    A servant fetched her harp. Dorrit told herself, Pretend this is just another performance. Keep your mind on your music. Not who’s listening.
    Her beloved instrument was set on a dais in the center of the hall so that all the guests could hear it. She plucked a few strings to make sure it was in tune.
    She turned to Sir William. “My lord, have you any requests?”
    “Do you know ‘Elaine’s Lament’?”
    Dorrit nodded. Her nimble fingers plucked the taunt cords. She sang of the fair Elaine, bewailing her fate. Of her love for the heroic Sir Lancelot that she could not deny. And that he would never return.

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