This holiday weekend has flown by, hasn’t it? I’m a little stunned at how quickly it’s all happened. But, it’s another Thanksgiving in the hopper and we’re thinking about Christmas. We don’t generally decorate right after Thanksgiving because we do like to keep our decorations up through the New Year and they start to feel stale if we get them up too early. So even though today is the first Sunday in Advent, we won’t be putting up our tree until next week or even the following week.
I’m about a third of the way into the first book in the Weaver Sisters series, which will begin releasing in 2023. That sounds so far off, but it’s not when you’re the one writing the stories, I assure you! Jazz and Eli are talking to me, but they’re both very tenuous and unsure. Somebody’s going to have to step up to the plate here, but I’m not sure yet which one of them it will be. Here’s a tiny snippet from a scene where they are attempting to exchange stories…
Jasmine folded her hands on the table, a gesture he’d already come to recognize—it indicated she had something to say. She came right out with it. “Did my sisters spread the word in town that nobody should ask me about Washington?”
Eli leaned back in his chair, debating whether to rat out Jo and Jenny or deny that the two of them had been quietly asking townsfolk to keep their questions to themselves. He sucked at dissembling so he simply told her the truth. “They’re just trying to make coming home easier for you, I think. It’s really not anybody’s business why you left.”
She huffed. “It isn’t, but whether or not people know the story is my call, not Jo and Jen’s.” She unclenched her hands and gazed out the window, shaking her head in clear frustration. “I love my sisters dearly, but”—she sat silent for a moment, then sighed—“I’m not gonna change ’em, am I?”
Eli shook his head. “Nope. And be grateful for that. Jack and I butt heads, but I know he always has my back, even if it doesn’t seem like it sometimes.”
Jazz squared her shoulders. “Okay, go ahead. Ask me.”
“What happened in Washington, Jasmine?” He asked obediently. “And please, I realize there’s nothing in our relationship that allows me to ask you about anything more personal than how you’re enjoying the weather. However, this is a huge change in your life and I can see, well, that you aren’t exactly happy about it.”
Elbow on the table, Jazz rested her chin in her palm. “I could say the same thing about you, Elias Walker.” She tipped her head, gazing at him from underneath her lashes. “Here you are, all grown up and running a very successful business and yet there is a… I dunno… a somberness about you that wasn’t there when we knew each other before.”
Eli’s stomach lurched. The last thing he wanted from Jasmine Weaver was pity. His story, which he wasn’t prepared to share yet, would only make her feel sorry for him. He managed a wry smile. “One tragic tale at a time, my friend.”
How about that? An actual snippet on Snippet Sunday. Go figure.
Stay well, stay safe, please wear your masks, and most of all, mes amies, stay grateful,