Sweet Saturday Sample

Welcome! I'm taking a break from my historical romance to celebrate the recent acceptance of my contemporary Greek island story, entitled Aegean Intrigue, to Astraea Press. This is my second sale to that wonderful publisher. Here's the opening scene:

He was staring at her again.

She knew it, despite his outward lack of interest. His long, lean frame was draped casually into the wooden chair in the outdoor section of the Appolon Grill. Dark shades covered his eyes, but the jet-black eyebrows above them rose and tilted her way every time she moved. Unlike locals, who occasionally threw friendly greetings her way, this man stayed in his seat and silently watched her.

Francie Vasileiou bent her head and focused her attention on the textbook in front of her. Inwardly, she was flattered by his interest. But she reminded herself she was here in Athens to further her education, not to find a man. She sipped her water and struggled to ignore the man and concentrate on the words on the page.

The warm breeze calmed her nerves as she sat at her usual table in the back corner of the restaurant. Most tourists preferred to sit at the outer edges of the seating area, with a view of Mount Olympus and the spectacular sunset. But here, next to the kitchen, she was not distracted by the conversation and the view. The light from the kitchen allowed her to continue reading until Kostos closed down for the night.

Her job here at the restaurant was perfect. She worked enough hours so that she could pay her living expenses, and when she wasn’t cooking or waitressing, Kostos allowed her to use one of his tables for studying. Even with the commotion from the kitchen and the restaurant patrons’ conversations, this setting was much better for concentrating than the noisy apartment building where she lived.

It took some effort, but finally the words on the page became concrete ideas, and she was transported back in time to the world of ancient Greece, to the time of the patricians. The structures on the Acropolis were not ruins but proud, gleaming works of art. Toga-draped people walked the dusty streets, while the less fortunate hawked their wares from makeshift stalls.

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Sweet Saturday Sample

Here's another scene from my still unnamed Greek Island story:

"Dimitri said he had planned to make spetzofai tonight. All the ingredients are here, so we’d better get started." He glanced at her, and she nodded in approval. He hauled the sausage and vegetables out of the refrigerator. "I can handle the main dish. Would you like to make the rice and perhaps a salad to go with it?" Without waiting for her answer, he went to work, oiling the large saucepan and chopping the peppers and tomatoes for the savory sausage dish.

The man definitely knew his way around a kitchen. His movements were efficient and precise. She turned and measured out the rice, putting it on to boil.

"Were you a chef in another life?" she asked.

"My father’s family owned a restaurant on Santorini. We all helped out in the kitchen."

Francie thought about her father, so brilliant in many ways, but utterly helpless in domestic affairs. When he remembered to eat, he depended on someone else, or he went out. Alex didn’t seem to be helpless in any situation, but most of the men in this country had definite ideas about division of labor between the sexes.

"Francie?"

She turned to him. "Yes?"

"Are you planning to do anything with that knife?"

She looked down. Her right hand was wrapped around the handle of a large chopping knife, but nothing was on the block in front of her. She had been caught daydreaming. Her mother would often say living with her and her father was like living alone. "You both get so caught up in your other worlds," she'd say, "that I might as well not be here." And then she would leave. Again.

She shook herself, mentally. "Sorry, I was somewhere else."

"Wherever you were, I hope it was a pleasant place. I’d hate to see you wield that knife when you’re angry." He went back to tending his grill.

Francie stared at him a moment. There had been no censure in his voice, only mild teasing.

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Sweet Saturday Sample

Thanks for stopping in! This week I'm sharing a scene from my Yet-To-Be-Named Work in Progress. It's a contemporary short story, taking place on the Greek Island of Paros:

The music stopped, and the dancers paused as an elderly gentleman made his way to the head of the men’s line. His gait was slow and unsteady, but his face was determined. She saw the doubtful looks on the faces of the other dancers, but tradition dictated the eldest person would lead the dance, and the rest had to follow. Would this man be up to the task?

And then he was there. Alex stood next to the old man, but instead of taking the man’s hand, he wrapped his right arm around the man’s frail body, holding him upright. The other men wordlessly fell into place behind Alex, and the music began. The line moved, Alex supporting the patriarch’s weight with one arm. Up and down the street they went, cheers and applause coming from those not dancing. The music soared, and the old man's wide, toothless smile tugged at Francie’s heart.

When the dance was over, Alex guided the man back to his seat in the tavern. Several of the villagers patted his shoulder in acknowledgement. A woman pressed a huge piece of baklava, wrapped in a napkin, into his hands. "Efharisto - thank you," she whispered to him before she returned to her seat beside the old man.

Alex Leonidis was a special man. But he was Greek, he was powerful, and he was charming. Francie knew if she weren’t careful, she could fall in love again with the wrong man. Doing so would be sheer stupidity.

Too bad her heart didn’t want to listen.

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