Hope for Christmas by Shana Galen -Part III

Hope for Christmas

by Shana Galen

Part III

( Click here if you missed Part I and Part II )

Anabelle couldn’t breathe as Viscount Redmond—no, Colin now; he’d asked her to call him Colin—pulled her into his arms. She was dimly aware of the string quartet playing, the movement of couples twirling about in her periphery, the scent of evergreens, and that sprig of mistletoe hanging above them.

And then she knew nothing but the feel of Colin’s arms. They were strong and firm. She felt safe in them, as she’d always known she would. She felt like she’d been waiting for this moment since she’d been six years old—though her expectations now were a bit different than they had been at six.

He bent and brushed his lips over hers, and the eyes she had closed opened in surprise. Warmth radiated from her lips, making her whole body aware of the contact. Her skin tingled and flushed, and she had the urge to pull him close, to kiss him more passionately.

But before she might act on impulse and behave in a way unbecoming to a young lady, his hand tightened on her back. She thought he might grasp her firmly and kiss her in the way she longed he would—his lips slanting over hers until she was dizzy with desire.

Instead, he stepped back, looking down at her with a mixture of shock and…anger?

“I’m sorry,” he said, stepping back again. “It was meant to be a kiss between friends.”

She blinked at him in confusion. “You have nothing to apologize for.” The kiss had been chaste. Far more chaste than she had wanted.

“Your servant, Mrs. Farthing.” He took her hand, bent to kiss it, and then moved away. Anabelle was left alone under the mistletoe, her cheeks burning with shame.

It had been a mistake to get her hopes up. Why had she listened to Eva? Why had she allowed her to play matchmaker and solicit Colin to dance the first dance with her? It was obvious he was just being kind. He didn’t want her. She would always be his friend’s little sister. Nothing more.

A footman passed with a tray of champagne, and she snatched a glass and drank it down, moving out from under the mistletoe. As she made her way to the corner of the room, she grasped another glass of champagne while she stood against the wall, decorating the walls as she had when she’d been younger.

She’d forgotten those awful nights as a wallflower. At balls she had prayed a man would ask her to dance and then prayed one wouldn’t. She could never think of anything witty or entertaining to say when she danced, and awkward silence was the hallmark of any set she accepted.

In those days she’d had a chaperone who had limited her to one glass of champagne a night. She was a widow with no chaperone now. She could drink as much as she liked. The champagne made her forget her embarrassment, made it easier to watch Colin dancing with one woman and then another as the night wore on.

“There you are!”

Anabelle looked up and into Eva’s concerned eyes. “Here I am,” she said, giggling a bit at the way her words sort of slurred together.

“I have been looking for you for the past half hour. What are you doing all the way over here?”

Anabelle looked around. She was sitting beside a heavy velvet drapery, almost obscured by it, in fact. “I’m decorating the walls,” she said. It sounded rather amusing when she said it aloud, and she giggled again.

“You are foxed!” her friend said in surprise. “How much have you drunk?”

“I don’t know.” Anabelle looked at the little collection of champagne glasses she’d gathered about her. “One, two, four. Wait, that’s not right.”

Eva took her arm. “Never mind that. You had better go to bed before anyone sees you.” This was her house party, and she took her duties as hostess seriously. “I’ll walk you to your room.”

“You shouldn’t leave the ball.”

Eva dragged her out of the ballroom and into the foyer where the grand staircase ascended toward the upper floors. “What happened?” Eva asked at the base of the stairs. “I saw you dancing with Redmond. Did he say something that upset you?”

Redmond—Colin. The pain lanced through her fresh as the first time. Where was her champagne? “Nothing like that,” she said, tears stinging her eyes. She did not want to cry. The last thing she need tonight was more pity.

“Then what is wrong?”

“I—He—” How to explain? How to make Eva, the beautiful, wealthy and happily married Lady Dorsey understand what it was to be plain, shy, widowed Mrs. Farthing. Eva loved her and wanted everyone else to love her as well. But if Colin was kind to her and danced with her, it was only because he was polite or felt some loyalty to his friend and her older brother.

“My lady.” The housekeeper bustled out from the servants’ door near the stairs. “There’s a problem with the tart. Cook says it’s come out dry.”

Eva’s hands went to her cheeks. “Oh, no.”

“Cook has some a sauce she might add, but she wanted you to taste it first.”

“Of course. I’ll speak with her at once. There must be some way to salvage the supper.” She started away and then seemed to remember Anabelle. She turned back. “Oh, but Anabelle. Can you wait just a moment, dear? I’ll be right back.”

Anabelle forced herself to smile and nod. “I think I’ll go lie down. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Yes. I’ll come to you first thing in the morning. I’ll have Cook send up some tea.”

Anabelle watched her hurry away, knowing Cook would be far too busy to send tea to an inebriated guest.

She turned and started up the stairs, but on the third or fourth stair, she must have forgotten to lift her skirts because she stumbled and only prevented a fall by catching the railing and holding it tightly.

“Do you need some help, Mrs. Farthing?”

She looked down and Lord Haggerston was coming toward the stairs. He was a man of fifty or so with a bushy mustache and a permanently red nose. He held a flask, and she wondered if he had stepped out of the ball to drink from its contents.

“Thank you, my lord, but I am fine.”

“Going to bed so soon?” he asked, ignoring her words and starting up the stairs behind her. Anabelle lifted her skirt and continued upward.

“I’m tired.”

“Is that what they call it these days?” He was right behind her, and she jumped when she felt his fingers pinch her bottom.

“My lord!” She jumped and whirled around.

“Sorry!” He held up his hands. “Shouldn’t have done that.”

“My lord, I think you should return to the ball.”

“I need to fetch something from my chambers. Lady Haggerston sent me. I can’t return empty handed, you know?”

Anabelle narrowed her eyes at him.

“I won’t pinch you again, Mrs. Farthing. In fact, I’ll go first, if you like.” And he passed her on the stairs, disappearing toward his room at the top. Anabelle waited a few moments, until the earth stopped spinning, and then resumed climbing. She was almost to her room. She’d strip off this tight dress, take her hair down, and have a good cry. Colin Parrish didn’t want her. Now she knew for certain, and she could stop pining for him. When the snow cleared, she would go to her sister’s house. She would play the amusing aunt for her two little nephews and try and enjoy the rest of the holiday.

At the top of the stairs, she turned toward her room, but she made it no more than three or four steps before rough hands grabbed her about the waist and pushed her up against the wall.

“What—” But Haggerston’s mouth on hers cut off her cries. His thick tongue plunged between her lips and his meaty hands groped at her bodice. She stomped on his foot and tried to push him back, but her ball slippers were meager defense. Wrenching her head to the side, she gulped in air. “Get off me. Stop!”

“Oh, don’t play coy with me. I saw you looking at me all through dinner.”

“No!” But he put his hand over her mouth and began fumbling under her skirts. She tried to wriggle away, but up seemed down and down seemed up. She was dizzy and confused, and he was so much bigger than she. His hand closed painfully on her thigh, and she screamed. With his hand over her mouth, she knew no one would hear.

***

Colin’s feet hurt. He’d been dancing for the last hour. He’d been afraid to stop moving. If he took two minutes for himself, he’d remember the smell of her, the feel of her in his arms, the taste of her. It had been a very meagre taste, not nearly enough.

What was wrong with him? She was Edward’s little sister. He’d thought a peck on the lips harmless at Christmas time, but when his lips had brushed hers, he’d felt a powerful longing to pull her close and kiss her—really kiss her. She looked so beautiful tonight. She didn’t look at all like the little girl he remembered. And she’d been easy to talk to, easy to dance with. How could he have known the kiss would be like a punch in the gut?

His feet still hurt, and the ball had only really begun. He shouldn’t have worn these new pumps. He’d go upstairs and change. Even if his old pumps were a bit worn, at least he’d be comfortable.

He started up the stairs, but halfway up he paused at the sound of a scuffle. Was it a scuffle or two lovers whose rendezvous he’d interrupted? He almost turned around to go back downstairs, and then he heard what sound like a No.

Colin took the stairs two at a time. At the landing, he looked one way then the other. There was Anabelle and that arse Haggerston with his hands all over her. Colin didn’t stop to think that perhaps she’d wanted Haggerston’s advances, he charged forward, grasping Haggerston’s coat and pulling him off her. He slammed the man against the opposite wall then looked over his shoulder to see Anabelle’s tear-stained face.

“Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. I told him to stop, but he-he didn’t listen.”

Colin looked back at Haggerston, who had his hands raised. “Just a misunderstanding, old boy. I thought she wanted a bit of company.”

Colin leaned close to Haggerston. “Touch her again, and I’ll give you a misunderstanding you’ll never put right.” He pulled Haggerston off the wall and shoved him hard down the hallway. Haggerston stumbled, fell, then got to his feet. When he looked back at them, hate burned in his eyes.

“You can act all high and mighty now.” He pointed at Anabelle. “But we’ll see how you feel when the world finds out what I know.”

Colin looked at Anabelle, but she looked as lost as he. She wiped tears from her cheeks.

“What are you going on about?” Colin asked, moving in front of her, to shield her from Haggerston.

Haggerston smiled, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Just that Farthing wasn’t quite the saint he appeared.” With that, he stumbled away.

Colin turned back to Anabelle. “Let me help you to your room.”

But she was staring after Haggerston. “What did he say? What does that mean? James—he didn’t even know Lord Haggerston.”

Colin shook his head. He hadn’t known her late husband at all, but then it appeared there was a chance Anabelle hadn’t known him as well as she thought either.

© Shana Galen

To be continued next year!

To read more Christmas themed short stories head on over to Ramblings from this Chick's A Historical Christmas Event !

Visit her website to learn more about Shana Galen 

Hope for Christmas by Shana Galen - Part II

Hope for Christmas

by Shana Galen 

Part II

( Click here if you missed Part I. )

At dinner that evening Lady Dorsey’s guests were short-tempered. They’d expected a sennight of winter games and frolics and instead they’d been trapped inside by rain and slush. Now the longed for snow had arrived, but they were trapped again by the blizzard raging outside.

Anabelle Farthing was one of the few guests enjoying the meal. The soup was perfectly seasoned, the bread warm and crusty, and the vegetables surprisingly fresh and tasty. She hadn’t wanted to go to her sister’s house for Christmas and the snowfall was more than welcome. Added to that, the compliments of Lord Redmond this afternoon had buoyed her spirits. He had noticed her! He’d said any man would want her for a wife.

Of course, he’d also said he thought of her as a sister, but she wouldn’t dwell on that. Eva—Lady Dorsey—had said Anabelle could make Colin, Lord Redmond, fall in love with her. She didn’t know if that was true. She had always been shy, especially around men, but she was willing to try.

Eva rose and clinked her wine glass several times for attention. The room quieted as the ladies and gentlemen ceased their complaining to peer at their hostess. Lord Redmond sat on the other side of the table from Anabelle and at the other end. She was seated between two men, neither of whom who had shown any inclination to speak to her after the first dinner, and he between two ladies. The ladies beside him were decidedly taken with him, if the fluttering of fans and lashes was any indication.

And why wouldn’t they be? He was the most handsome man in attendance, and his easy smile charmed even the most dour of guests.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Eva said, “I know our plans have been spoiled by first rain and now snow, but we needn’t let the weather ruin all of our fun. I have a surprise after dinner.”

A few murmurs passed through the guests, whispers as to what the surprise might be. The man beside Anabelle muttered, “It had better not be more card games.”

“If I might,” Eva said, speaking over the din, “I propose we have a ball.”

“Bravo!” Lord Dorsey said immediately, smiling at his pretty wife. “When will it begin, my dear?”

“In two hours. That should give everyone enough time to change and make ready.”

And with those words, dinner was all but over. The ladies were anxious to return to their rooms and dress, and the gentlemen were only too happy to savor their port in silence.

A few minutes before the ball was to begin, Anabelle opened her door to Eva’s knock. The lady wore a deep green gown with long sleeves and festive red ribbons. Anabelle wished her own dress was as pretty.

“How pretty you look!” Eva exclaimed. “That blue matches your eyes.”

“Thank you.” The sapphire dress with the silver thread woven throughout was her best. She had brought it, hoping for a chance to wear it for Lord Redmond. “Does my hair look well? Bell says it looks fashionable swept over my shoulder this way, but I fear I should have had her put it all up.”

Eva patted her hand. “Bell has a good eye. Leave it as it is. Now, I have a surprise for you.”

Anabelle raised her brows.

“It’s a good surprise, goose! I asked Lord Redmond to dance the first dance with you.”

Anabelle gasped in a breath. “Why?”

“He didn’t ask why. He merely agreed.”

Anabelle’s face felt warm and her head spun as though she’d drank a glass of wine too quickly. “I’ll probably faint from being that close to him.”

Eva gave her a stern look. “You’ll do no such thing. Smile and ask about his plans for Christmas.” She leaned close to Anabelle. “Try to steer him under the mistletoe so you might steal a kiss!”

Anabelle’s face flushed hotter. “You are incorrigible!”

“You love me for it!” And linking her arm with Anabelle’s, Eva led her down to the ballroom.

***

Colin Parrish rarely attended balls. As a viscount, and a young eligible one at that, he certainly had his pick of invitations. But he preferred other pursuits, usually those involving horses. In fact, he’d had to dress for this ball quickly as he’d spent too much time in the stables checking on his horses and ensuring they were warm enough and well fed.

Now he stood in the ballroom with the other men, watching as the string quartet tuned their instruments. He didn’t know where Lady Dorsey had found them, but he suspected that whatever Lady Dorsey wanted, Lady Dorsey received. He didn’t even particularly like balls, but he wouldn’t have even considered denying her request to dance with Mrs. Farthing. Standing here now, waiting for the ladies to arrive, he half wished he had denied it. He felt unexpectedly short of breath when he thought of dancing with Mrs. Farthing. The past few days he couldn’t help but notice how pretty she was. He’d known her since she was a child. She was Edward’s brother then Farthing’s wife.

But these past few days he hadn’t seen her at all as a little sister or a widow. She was a pretty young woman with large blue eyes, honey-blond hair, and full, pink lips. How had he never noticed how ripe those lips were for kissing? How had he failed to observe that little Anabelle was not so little anymore?

The ballroom door opened and Lady Dorsey entered with Anabelle beside her. Though Colin had expected to see her, his heart still clenched in his chest. She was lovely. Her skin glowed warmly under the lights of the chandelier and her cheeks were pink with excitement. He tried not to look at her eyes, but to focus elsewhere proved dangerous as her dress accented the lovely curves of her body. He almost missed the scrawny child she’d been.

Almost.

Lady Dorsey caught his eye and Colin forced his feet to move. He crossed the ballroom and bowed to Lady Dorsey and then Anabelle. “My lady. Mrs. Farthing. Mrs. Farthing, may I have the pleasure of dancing the first dance with you?”

“Of course.” Her voice was breathless, as though she’d been running, but he suspected the real reason was that she had always been rather shy. Edward and he had enjoyed teasing her until she forgot her shyness and teased them back. But he wasn’t sure how to tease her now.

Lord and Lady Dorsey began the dancing with a waltz. Colin stood beside Anabelle watching, and when the time was appropriate he led her to the center of the dance floor. A few other couples followed, but he had plenty of space to twirl her about.

She was an excellent dancer, which meant he was free to enjoy the dance all the more. And he was free to enjoy the feel of his hand on her waist and the way she looked up at him with those wide blue eyes.

“How is it we’ve never danced before, Mrs. Farthing?”

“I suppose you never asked before, my lord.”

He groaned. “What do you say to putting aside the formalities during this dance? I’ve known you since you could barely toddle about. Might I call you Anabelle and you call me Colin?”

She looked down. “I suppose it will do for one dance. But I was no toddler when we first met.”

“No?” he asked, not really remembering.

“No. I was a six when Edward went to school and the two of you met.”

“Practically all grown up then,” he teased.

“Old enough to wish I were a boy.”

That made him laugh. “Why? So you might go to school and sit through hours of Latin before being thrashed by boys twice your size? I always envied my sisters.”

“And I imagine they envied you your freedom. When you and Edward were at Rose Abbey you would disappear for hours, climbing trees and running barefoot in the fields. How I wished I could do the same.” Her color was high, but he still noted when the pink in her cheeks deepened to red.

“Do you remember the time you and Edward went for a swim in the pond?”

There had been too many times for him to remember but one, and he said so.

“The time you climbed out and couldn’t find your clothing.”

That he did remember. They’d had to sneak back to the house and hide in the outbuildings until a servant fetched them trousers. “Don’t tell me you had something to do with that.”

She ducked her head.

“Why you little scamp. We never even suspected you. You seemed the perfect angel.”

“I fear you didn’t know me very well at all, Colin.”

He liked the sound of his name on her lips. “Clearly not.”

The dance was ending and he found himself disappointed. He’d enjoyed speaking with her and dancing with her. It had been effortless, not like most of the balls he attended, where he forced himself to think of banal topics on which to converse.

He led Anabelle from the dance floor. “Allow me to fetch you some refreshment.”

“Champagne, please,” she said.

He nodded and left to find a footman. When he returned, she’d moved away from the row of chairs where he’d left her, closer to a window in the back of the ballroom. He presented her with the champagne then blinked in surprise as she downed it in one gulp.

“Thirsty?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Aren’t you a bit cold all the way over here?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I like it here.”

“Why is that?”

Her gaze traveled upward and for the first time he noticed the mistletoe hanging above them. His breath caught. She was right. He didn’t know her very well because he certainly hadn’t expected her to angle for a kiss.

And he certainly hadn’t expected to want to kiss her as much as he did.

She began to move away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

But he caught her arm gently. “Why not? It’s Christmas.” He drew her closer. “May I?”

She nodded, eyes huge, lips slightly parted. Somewhere the quartet played and people danced, but he didn’t hear anything but the sound of his heart thudding in his chest. It was one kiss. A kiss at Christmas didn’t mean anything.

And that’s what he thought right until the moment his lips brushed hers.

To be continued…

© Shana Galen

To read more Christmas themed short stories head on over to Ramblings from this Chick's A Historical Christmas Event !

Hope for Christmas by Shana Galen - Part I

Hope for Christmas

by Shana Galen

Part I

Everyone agreed the house party was an unmitigated disaster. The weather had been rainy but not cold enough to snow. All of the outdoor events—the ice skating, the sledding, and the gathering of greenery for the coming Christmas holiday—had been cancelled due to inclement weather. No one wanted to traipse about in puddles of slushy mud.

And so when it began to snow the night before the party was to end and the guests were to depart for their family estates to celebrate Christmas with loved ones, most of the guests eyed the steadily falling white flakes with narrowed eyes. When the worst was confirmed, and the morning revealed huge snow drifts and more snow still falling, no one was pleased to be snowed in.

No one but Anabelle.

She had no one to go home to. She was to spend Christmas with her sister and her sister’s family, as she had the last three years, but the experience had proved more depressing than joyous. Jane and her husband were so happy. They had such beautiful children. They had a lovely home.

They had everything Anabelle had wanted. For a little while she had thought she had it. She’d married, and she’d been happy. But then James had died, and she’d watched all her dreams slip through her fingers.

She hadn’t planned to come to the house party. Even if Lady Dorsey was one of her good friends from childhood, Anabelle had little interest in parlor games or freezing her cheeks and toes to skate in circles round a frozen lake.

But then Eva—Lady Dorsey—had casually remarked that Lord Redmond would be in attendance, and Anabelle hadn’t been able to decline. Now that she stood in the morning room, peering out the window at the blur of white obscuring objects even a few feet away, Anabelle considered that Eva had known what she was about when she’d mentioned Lord Redmond. Eva knew Anabelle blushed whenever Redmond was about and became tongue-tied when he spoke to her. He’d been her brother’s friend at school, and he’d often come home with Edward when her brother had been on school breaks. But Colin Parrish, the Viscount Redmond, had never paid the slightest bit of attention to shy, quiet Anabelle.

He’d been much more interested in horses. His family was known to breed and train the very best horses in England. Clearly Redmond’s father and grandfather had passed the interest on to the new heir. Her brother Edward had been similarly infatuated with horses, and the two boys spent more time in the stable and paddock than in her parents’ house. Anabelle hadn’t minded. She had a clear view of both locations from her bedroom window.

And she’d been watching Colin from a distance ever since. She’d forgotten about the viscount briefly, when she’d fallen in love with and married James. But after her husband’s death and her year of mourning, she went out in public once again and there she saw Viscount Redmond at practically every turn.

He’d been an attractive boy with wavy hair that was neither brown nor blond but somewhere in-between and with the best shades of both running through it. His brown eyes were always warm, as though someone had stirred gold into the brown to make it softer. His face had been rounder when he was younger. It had thinned out now, the cheekbones and jaw looking almost as though a sculptor had come in and carved away the baby flesh to reveal the sleek bone structure beneath. And though she knew he was not particularly tall, he carried himself in a way that made him seem to tower over other men. His back was straight, his shoulders broad, his thighs perfectly shaped in his tight breeches.

And so when it appeared that the house party would continue at least one more night and perhaps two, leaving the guests stranded here on Christmas Eve, Anabelle didn’t really mind. She pretended to mind, but there were worse things than spending the holiday with her oldest friend and the dashing Lord Redmond.

She heard the door to the morning room open and turned with an apology on her lips. She expected to see Eva, coming to scold her for sneaking out of charades in the drawing room. Instead she stared into the handsome face of Colin, Viscount Redmond.

He looked as surprised to see her as she was to see him. His eyes widened, and his brows rose. “Mrs. Farthing.” He gave a quick bow, recovering his composure.

“Lord Redmond,” Anabelle said, her voice little more than a whisper. She should leave. If he had come to the morning room, he wanted solitude. She should leave him to his peace and quiet. “I was just leaving,” she said, aware her cheeks must be flaming red. Her face felt as though she was just inches from a roaring fire.

“You needn’t leave on my account,” he said, moving into the room and closing the door behind him. “In fact, I had been looking for the chance to speak with you.”

Anabelle’s breath caught and she stared at him in disbelief. “Y-you wanted to speak with me?”

He smiled easily. “Is that so strange? I’ve always thought of you like a sister. How is Edward? I haven’t seen him for some time.”

“Edward?” She understood the question, but she couldn’t quite move past the fact that Viscount Redmond thought of her as a sister. On the one hand, she was grateful he’d noticed her at all. On the other, her feelings toward him were anything but sisterly.

“Yes, your brother?” Redmond said when she didn’t respond to his question. “How is he?”

“Fine,” she finally managed.

Redmond’s eyes narrowed. “Have I caught you at a bad time? I should excuse myself.”

“No!” She couldn’t let him leave. This was her chance to…to…she did not know what this was her chance to do, but she did know she wanted Colin Parrish to keep talking to her. “I mean, I am quite well, thank you. And so is Edward. He has taken over the management of my late parents’ estate. It keeps him well occupied.”

“And you? How are you? I was sorry to hear of your husband’s passing.”

Once again, Anabelle was surprised. He knew she’d been married? “Thank you.”

Redmond ran a hand through his hair and crossed to the window. Anabelle moved aside so he could see the storm outside. “When you arrived, I didn’t expect you to be alone,” he said, his eyes on the swirling snow.

“I had my maid,” Anabelle said.

He smiled and then looked at her. “I meant, I thought you would have married again by now.”

Anabelle was struck speechless both by the words and by the handsomeness of his features. “Why?” she finally managed, though if she had not been so awed, she would never have been so forward.

“A pretty girl like you,” Redmond said. “What man wouldn’t want you?”

Anabelle did not know what she would have said next, and she never had the chance to say it because just then the door opened, and Eva did enter. “Anabelle, I have been looking everywhere. I—” She stopped when she spotted Redmond. “My lord. I do apologize. I did not mean to interrupt.”

Redmond bowed. “You are never an interruption, my lady. If you’ll excuse me, I believe the men are gathering in the billiard’s room.”

“Of course.”

Anabelle and Eva curtseyed and did not speak until Redmond had closed the door and his footsteps faded.

Then Eva grasped Anabelle’s hands and squealed. “Tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell. He asked after my brother.”

“That’s it?”

Anabelle felt her face heating again.

Eva smiled. “Tell me.”

“He said I was pretty. He said any man would want me for a wife.”

Eva squeezed her hands tightly. “I just knew this snow would redeem the party! What will you do now?”

Anabelle shook her head. “I don’t know. What should I do?”

Eva bent and looked into Eva’s eyes. “Make him love you.”

“I can’t!”

“You can. Anything is possible. It’s Christmastime.”

Anabelle smiled. For the first time in a very, very long time, she believed anything really was possible. And she would win Colin’s heart.

To be continued…

Click here to read for Part 2

© Shana Galen


To read more Christmas themed short stories head on over to Ramblings from this Chick's A Historical Christmas Event !

The End of a Chapter by Shana Galen

The End of a Chapter

Have you ever read a book by Julie Garwood? She’s one of my favorite authors, and I’ve often re-read her books to study what she does well and why I enjoy her writing so much. One thing Julie Garwood excels at is chapter breaks. Read one of her books and notice every chapter ends on a cliffhanger that makes the reader want to turn the page and start the next chapter.

For budding writers, getting advice like, end chapters on a cliffhanger is great—until you actually try to do it.

It’s hard. Really hard.

Ending a chapter on a cliffhanger means that something exciting has to be happening at the end and beginning of every chapter. A lot of authors write with a sort of scene-sequel format, meaning there’s a scene where something happens, like a kiss, then a sequel where the character (maybe the non-POV character) reflects on the kiss. Ending every chapter with a cliffhanger doesn’t mean the scene-sequel format won’t work, it just means I has to be carefully managed.

I’m not going to claim I end every chapter on a cliffhanger. I certainly always try to do so and always have it in mind. The book where I feel like I most succeeded in that area is Blackthorne’s Bride, but in others I’ve been less consistent. However, after 30 books and almost two decades of writing, here are a few guidelines I use for chapter breaks.

1. If at all possible, end on a cliffhanger. The number one job of the chapter break is to get the reader to turn the page and keep reading.

2. Keep chapters under 15 manuscript pages and over 9 manuscript pages. Readers don’t have the attention span they did twenty years ago, when I often wrote 20-page chapters. I don’t have research on this, but I feel like books with shorter chapters are read faster because the reader thinks, just one more chapter. It’s short. Often I find the perfect chapter ending, but it’s only 8 pages into a chapter. I might have to write another ten until I get to another good break. I’d rather end the chapter at 8 pages than drag it out another ten and risk the reader closing the book.

3. Vary chapter lengths. It’s great if the first chapter is 10 pages, then you have a 12-page chapter, then 9, then 14, and so on. Variety keeps readers interested.

4. If you’re writing a story in third person with multiple points of view, try to start a new chapter with a new POV character. This isn’t a hard and fast rule, but I think it’s good to follow as much as possible. It goes back to variety.

5. Finally, trust your feeling. Like a lot of things about writing, sometimes it just feels right to break. Go with it.

Do you ever notice chapter breaks? If you’re a writer, do you struggle with them?

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I Don’t Know How You Do It by Shana Galen

I Don’t Know How You Do It

Okay, Moms, how many times have you heard this? Even moms who I say it to, say it back to me. My standard answer is that I don’t sleep a lot. And neither do other moms I know. Or, they give up something else—exercise, time with their husband, time to read or do something else they love. The bottom line is we all do what we have to because we have to.

I’m no time management expert, but I have given workshops on how becoming a mom taught me to manage my time. Here are a few tips that might help you. And please give me some of yours, too!

1. Get up before everyone else in the household and get a head start.

I know from personal experience that the days I am up early go more smoothly than the days I “sleep in.” I can get a lot done when I don’t have a short person calling for me every three seconds or hanging on my leg. I’ve recently been reading a book titled What the Most Successful People Do Before Breakfast by Laura Vanderkam. She makes a great case for the productivity and accomplishments of the early-risers. I suppose if you’re absolutely against mornings, you could do as much of the morning stuff as possible the night before.

2. Make naptime productive.

If you are lucky enough to have a child young enough to nap, or even one who is willing to retreat to his or her room for quiet time for an hour, take advantage of this time! I know I am tempted to use my daughter’s naps as downtime for me too, but that’s a mistake. Again, I can get a lot done more done without interruption, and I can surf the Internet or watch TV or fold clothes later and with a child talking my ear off.

3. Make a list.

If you don’t know what you need to accomplish each day, you’re not going to accomplish it. I have a list of what I need to do each day—how many pages I must write, household chores, phone calls to make, etc. My daughter’s activities are on the list too, so I don’t get caught up with laundry and forget music class (not that she would let me!). As a mom, it’s sometimes hard to feel as though you’ve accomplished something at the end of the day. It’s a lot easier if you’re working a traditional job where you make a deal or sell something or cure a disease. But most of the moms I know feel better when they have goals each day and are able to accomplish those goals.

Now it’s your turn. What are your tips?

An Affair With A Spare, Book 3 

Buy links and more at ShanaGalen.com

What’s Your Reading Pleasure by Shana Galen

What’s Your Reading Pleasure?

The one thing all of us have in common is reading. No matter how busy I am, I try to take some time to read every day. Most of the time, I can fit about a half hour in. Sometimes I can manage an hour. Sometimes I have to wait in the doctor’s office or have my hair cut, and then I can really carve out some reading time. Yes, I am one of those people.

Since I don’t have much time to read, I don’t have a favorite place to read. I can and will read anywhere. My husband doesn’t read much and likes to watch sports, so I often read in my bedroom, just because it’s quiet and I can concentrate. The problem with reading in bed is I usually fall asleep. I probably get more reading done at my daughter’s after-school activities. I always bring a book to gymnastics and ballet and find I can keep up with both the plot and the lesson for the day.

I’m surprised I don’t see more moms reading while waiting for ballet to get out. Scrolling through one’s phone seems the most popular option. Maybe they’re reading on their phone? I have all the bookstore apps on mine and always have a digital book ready to read at a moment’s notice.

I’m often asked in interviews about what I need before I can start writing. I know some authors will say things like a vanilla scented candle, soft music, and a cup of exotic tea. If I waited for any certain element, other than my computer, to be present, I’d never write a word. I’ve been known to sit in the hallway outside my daughter’s preschool class and finish up a scene. If I was early for an appointment, I’ve sat in my car, opened my laptop, and started a new chapter. If we need to trek across town and my husband is driving, I’ll be typing. I do draw the line at writing and driving. I also don’t write longhand. I can, but I find the time I have to take to decipher it and type it up, is a waste. I really won’t get started unless I have my computer. Fortunately, I have one that’s easy to throw in my bag. It fits perfectly right beside my book.

What about you? Favorite place to read or write? What’s the most unusual place we might find you reading or writing?

An Affair With A Spare, Book 3 

Buy links and more at ShanaGalen.com