Happy Friday Readers! I’m popping in to give you a long overdue Friday Fictioneers! We’re returning to the present with Nick and Emmeline and the startling revelation that Em is a spy. The tensions are only going to keep building for now. Enjoy!
It didn’t compute. The sweet, kind, adorably girlish at times woman he had come to know and love could not be a spy.
She’d take him to meet her CIA contact, she told him.
They rounded the corner. Emmeline froze suddenly. The street was covered in firetrucks, ambulances, and police. An apartment building was engulfed in flames. “Stay back!” ordered a policeman in a bright vest.
“But my uncle lives in that building!” Emmeline said with real fear in her voice.
“I’m sorry Miss,” he said. “No one made it out alive.”
Happy Friday, Readers! We’ve made it through another week! Now it’s time for Friday Fictioneers (which again, I am so sorry for skipping last week). Back to Nick and Emmeline’s story. I am sorry (not sorry) to say the cliffhangers are just going to keep on coming. Special thanks to Rochelle for providing the prompt, and to J Hardy Carroll for this week’s photo. Enjoy!
P.S. For those of you who celebrate it, Happy Michaelmas!
Price, Emmeline Price
He’s a what?”
Nick stared at Emmeline, mouth open. She squeezed his hand again. “Stay calm, dear. Whatever I tell you, just react as if we were having a normal conversation over breakfast.”
He took a large sip of his coffee and scaled his tongue. Wincing, he said in lower tones, “How the hell did you get mixed up with an Armenian weapons dealer?”
“It’s a long story.”
“We have time.”
“Then I guess I’ll start at the beginning.” She gazed at their entwined hands, but didn’t say more.
Hello my dear, sweet, and patient Readers! I apologize for not posting anything for a terrible long stretch of weeks, especially after leaving you with that last cliffhanger (Who is Constantine?! What’s up with all those flowers? What is going on in Emmeline’s life and why is it suddenly so dangerous? Will Nick stick around?) but life has been crazy and busy and brilliant, and all my writing time had to be momentarily pushed to the side. But hopefully now I will get back into a regular posting schedule, even though I am sure life will not stop being busy and crazy.
First, some news! I am engaged! (that’s the brilliant part). I am overwhelmingly happy and so excited to start this new part of my life with my fiancé, Aaron!
And with that happy news imparted, let us continue on to Friday Fictioneers (at long last). Thank you very much to Rochelle for faithfully providing us bloggers with a prompt week after week all year long, and this week thank you to Kelvin M. Knight for providing the photo!
Do You Like Bagels?
Emmeline immediately spun around and winced, clutching her side as she hobbled away from her apartment.
“Woah! Where are you going?” Nick let the door close and ran after her, reaching out to steady her. “Em, slow down. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
She stopped. “Do you like bagels?” she said a bit wildly. “I like bagels. I’m hungry. Let’s go to breakfast.”
Nick looked bewildered. “Not until you tell me what’s going on,” he insisted. “Em, what’s wrong?”
“It’s Constantine,” she said, a quaver in her voice. “He’s found me, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to kill me.”
Hello, dear Readers! Is it really Friday already? This week has flown by! Time again for Friday Fictioneers, picking up Nick and Emmeline’s story where we left off last week with mysterious messages, someone named Constantine, and chatty receptionists.
Happy Friday, Readers! As promised, I am back (on time) with Friday Fictioneers! This week we have an interesting photo prompt, courtesy of Claire Sheldon. (Who saves staples like that?)
We are still following our interesting couple, Emmeline and Nick, who are now home from the hospital after Emmeline’s accident. Their trials are far from over…
Thank you to Rochelle for always providing our Friday prompts!
“Bless my soul, Emmeline Price, what happened to you?” cried Mary Ann in her thick Boston accent. “Who’s your man?” She leaned over the desk. In a faux whisper, she said, “He’s a fine piece of real estate!”
Emmeline sighed covered her eyes with her hand while Nick hastily turned his laugh into a cough. “I was in an accident, and this is Nicholas Ramsey. Do I have any messages?”
“Hmm?” Mary Ann tore her gaze from Nick and popped her gum bubble. “Oh yeah, loads. All from a guy named Constantine. Weird name.”
“Miss Price is sleeping, but stable. You can sit with her if you like.”
Nick didn’t need told twice. Quietly he entered her room. In the corner her heart monitor beeped slow and steady. He sat down beside her bed, fiddling with the rosary still in his hands. “Stay with me, Emmy,” he whispered.
Moved by an urge to be doing something, anything – he pulled out his phone and opened his last search – “How to Pray the Rosary.” He didn’t believe in this stuff, but it was better than nothing. Hesitantly, he started to pray.
Happy Friday my lovely readers! I may be on vacation, but I wouldn’t skip a week of Friday Fictioneers if I could help it! Especially after last week when I left Nick and Emmeline in a precarious position…again. (sorry, not sorry). Be sure to check out last week’s post if you missed it.
As always, special thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for providing us with these weekly prompts and this week to Sarah Potter for the photo. Even if it isn’t too obvious, I do take some bit of inspiration of each week’s photo in my story.
Pass The Time
Nick was stuck in the waiting room, again.
Behind him he could hear the clock ticking. Every second felt like an eternity, every tick reminded him of the fading blips on Emmeline’s heart monitor.
He fidgeted with his fingers.
“Here you go, son.” Nick jerked his head up to see a stout old woman in a housecoat offering him a string of beads. A crucifix dangled from the end of them. Nick recoiled.
“I’m not religious,” he blurted.
“That your woman in there?”
Nick nodded and the rosary fell into his hand. “It will help,” she promised before shuffling away.