Writing for Love

By Dawnette Blackwood-Rhoomes

Is God concerned with our love lives? If we ask, will He actually give us the desires of our hearts?

Willow Pichard is on a quest to find out the truth, as well as true love and her Prince Charming. When the opportunity came to enter a writing competition, held by Wickham Publishing, Willow decides to write her own dream fairy tale romance. In her story of Esther and the King, Esther enters The Fair Maiden Contest and must do the unthinkable, contend with the lovely Princess Leah to win the King's hand in marriage!

But as this fairy tale plot thickens, Willow finds that the love story of so long ago transcends the pages of her book and parallels a real life romance drama between her and Chad Wickham, heir of Wickham Enterprises! It would have been nice if Chad didn't get on her last nerve, and she didn't have to contend with the ex-girlfriend. Now with Willow entangled in a romance drama and the story of Esther playing out so vividly in her own life, Willow fears to finish the manuscript! Must she forfeit the contest or must she keep on writing for the sake of love?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dawnette Blackwood-Rhoomes
• Release date: Dec 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310630293

Dawnette Blackwood-Rhoomes

Dawnette Rhoomes is the Creative Editor for the following magazine publications:DB-R Designs Textile & Paper CatalogThe Books MagazineDawnette is one of the proud winners of NaNoWriMo 2012, 2014, and 2015!"Reading and writing," she says "are as natural and vital to me as breathing. It might sound a bit corny, I know, but I really love books! I strongly encourage those who are hesitant or reluctant to explore the world of reading, to find a genre they like and begin ! There's something for everyone!"Books by the author:The Women of Jesus (2005)The Secrets of Aunt Norah's House (2011)Why Should I Believe You? (2013)Love Unhinged (2013)Christian Romance Novels:1. Writing for Love (2014)The Cannon & Durnam Textile Legacy trilogy (2015/2016)1. The Virtuous Husband2. The Love Inheritance3. The Hopeful Promise

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Willow Pichard sauntered down the aisle between the row of books at the bookstore on the corner of 15th Street and 5th Avenue. It was her afternoon off and she had plenty of time to look for the perfect birthday gift for her best friend’s daughter, Julia. She reached for the illustrated children’s book Practice Makes Perfect, bumping into the person next to her. The collision sent the handful of books and her handbag crashing to the floor. Willow groaned.

I’m so sorry, she said, kneeling to retrieve her belongings. He knelt too, facing her.

No, I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I should have paid more attention to what I was doing, he insisted as he collected some of her books.

He glanced at her briefly, contemplating for a second, before turning away. She looked at him too. She had seen the lean strong jaw which framed the handsome face somewhere before. His face was relaxed and the corners of his mouth twitched, smothering a smile. His lips were nicely shaped, almost as if someone took the time to carefully and lovingly sculpt them for his face. The phrase fearfully and wonderfully made sprang to mind, and she found herself staring at them. They were perfect, more like beautiful, actually. Then they parted in a smile and became even more gorgeous.

I believe these belong to you, they were saying.

It took Willow a second to realize the handsome stranger was talking to her. And here she was staring at his lips! Startled to find him watching her, she quickly took the books he had retrieved for her. Glancing briefly at the bundle in her arms she noted her journal was opened, revealing her one and only journal entry:

BUCKET LIST

(1) Meet my own Prince Charming (enough with my lonely life already)!

She stared at the page. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment. If the floor could simply open up and swallow her, she’d appreciate it! She quickly snapped the book shut and stuffed it, along with the rest of her belongings, into the handbag. Daring not to look at him, she said:

Thank you.

Don’t mention it. The voice was silky and smooth, willing her to look at its owner.

Did he see her journal entry? Why do these embarrassing things keep happening to her?

Already standing, he extended a helping hand with long, lean fingers. But before she could grasp it, a wilting voice rose from behind them.

"What’s this?" It asked.

Tastefully applied makeup, expensive clothing, and long lean legs like stilts, emerging from the short, dark grey tweed skirt were all Willow saw from her stooped position. A leather handbag dangled in a chic manner from the diamond studded wrist. The woman towering above, about thirty-five, grabbed the man’s outstretched hand which was still extended toward Willow.

Let’s go Chad! she ordered

Instantly, he extricated his fingers from the woman’s grasp and offered his hand again to Willow, who by now had managed to slowly stand to her feet. As if on cue, an explosion of pins and needles coursed through Willow’s legs. She teetered forward and fell against his chest! Strong arms reached out and held the small of her back. Despite the pain and the rubbery feeling in her legs, Willow felt comfortable using him as support until the pain in her legs subsided. However, Willow winced when steely dark brown eyes alighted on her, the woman watching her intently.

Quickly she pulled away, but his hand remained and kept her in position.

Thank you, she muttered.

Are you okay?

Yes. My feet just went to sleep for a little, but they are okay now, she answered as she pried herself from his grasp.

Chad, we have to go! The woman’s tone was clipped with anger.

Chad ignored her. His brown eyes fixed on Willow’s pleading ones.

Are you sure you’re okay? asked Chad.

Yes, yes. I’m fine, Willow said, wanting to be away from him and his obviously jealous wife or girlfriend.

Chad released her slowly, and Willow took a step backwards, purposely distancing herself from his warm embrace and inviting smile.

Thanks again, she said and with that she turned and walked away, willing her tingling legs to make one sure step after another.

She didn’t dare look back. She didn’t want to see the woman’s penetratingly angry glare; but most of all she didn’t want to be caught in Chad’s enchanting gaze.

CHAPTER 1

Willow screamed.

There it is again! She wasn’t mistaken. She had definitely felt it the first time!

Her fishing line jerked again, and this time she jumped to her feet.

I’ve got it! she bellowed.

Stop screaming, her best friend Jenna called from a yard away. You’ll scare away the fish!

Scare away what fish? Willow shrieked. I’ve already caught him! Help me reel him in!

They were in Brooklyn at Prospect Park with Jenna’s six year old daughter Julia for a fun day of fishing. The Annual Prospect Park Fishing Contest was an event they planned for each year.

She stood on the edge of the pond, straining to see the fish she had caught beneath the murky waters. The pond was covered with green moss and it was hard to see any form of life below. Whatever she caught, must be pretty big because it tugged hard on the line.

There it goes again! Help me Jenna!

Julia squealed, Get it Aunt Willow! Get the fish!

Willow tugged and spun the handle of the reel. The fish tugged. She pulled. Her toes were now at the water’s edge and it seeped into her sneakers. Ignoring the wet shoes, Willow concentrated her efforts on reeling in the stubborn fish while wondering why Jenna was ignoring her call for help.

Suddenly, large hands covered hers and strong fingers moved with hers to wind the reel steadily, winding and releasing almost simultaneously.

With arms around her, he was close enough for Willow to feel his muscular chest against her back. The strong scent of his cologne tickled her nose.

You have to reel him in slowly, then release the line a little. That way he’ll fight less, a husky voice whispered in her ear.

His breath touched the edge of her ear and traveled down the side of her neck, losing itself in the collar of her jacket. She shuddered as goose pimples marched up her arm and toward her hairline.

T-t-thank you, she stuttered.

No problem. Glad to help, he said, his cheek almost touching hers. Now let’s reel this baby in.

They worked together, and the fish came in obediently, wriggling happily on the line. Willow held up her prize, which was no more than 12 inches long.

A yellow perch, her helper said.

Yes. Today is my lucky day. She turned to face him, and stopped. His face was familiar.

Yes it is! I hear not many people catch yellow perch in these ponds. He extended his hand. Great to meet you again.

Willow took his hand and shook it briefly, trying to remember where she had seen him before.

The bookstore on 15th and 5th, he reminded her. We reached for the same book and your books fell...

He allowed his voice to trail off as he gave her time to remember.

Aunt Willow you caught the fish! Julia bounded forward. Can I see it? Can I see it?

Willow turned to fulfill Julia’s request while still looking at the stranger’s face.

Hi there, said Jenna. She had finally managed to join them. Jenna looked from Willow to the stranger and back again.

Hi, he responded, taking Jenna’s hand in a brief handshake. My name is Chad.

Chad! That’s it! Chad from the bookstore! She blushed and her heart skipped a beat momentarily. So, he remembered her! This world is way too small! Willow thought. What are the odds?

Oh yes, she said, extending her hand again. I remember you from the bookstore. My name is Willow.

Oh! The bookstore guy! Jenna piped up. Willow cringed. Leave it to Jenna to embarrass her!

He grasped Willow’s hand a second time and this time he smiled down at her like someone with a secret. Blushing, Willow recalled her journal which had unceremoniously opened that day to her one item on her bucket list. As she pulled her hand away, Willow wondered if that’s why he was grinning so much.

Well Chad, she said. Thanks so much for your help in reeling in this fish.

No problem at all. His brown eyes bored through her.

I’ll remember what you said about reeling in and releasing the next time I cast my line, she rambled on. She felt Julia tugging on her sleeve.

Yes sweetie. Willow turned her attention to the little girl.

I want to take a picture with the fish, she said, eagerly coming in between Willow and Chad.

Hey, that’s a good idea, he said. I’ll take the picture of you ladies and your prize. Just stand over there, by the tree.

With Chad’s instructions they posed with their catch and he clicked away with Jenna’s iPhone and Willow’s tablet. Willow noticed he took a photo with his phone too, and to her dismay Jenna suggested Chad take a picture with Willow and the fish.

Although she protested, neither Chad nor Jenna were listening, and they switched places leaving Willow with the fish in one hand and the other on Julia’s shoulder. Chad took his place beside her, beaming. With one arm around her waist, he placed the other on Julia’s shoulder.

Smile, he told her, and then he gave her the most dazzling smile, even his eyes twinkled.

At that moment she thought I like him, and then was shocked she even had such a thought that she looked up in dismay and horror just when Jenna said Ok. Cheese!

She heard the click, and the photo was taken.

Smile for goodness sake Willow! Jenna chided, and Willow blushed the same time Jenna said Cheese again. Her photo was again taken, this time on Chad’s phone!

Her skin tingled beneath his touch and Willow wriggled to free herself of his grasp, but wind up unbalanced just when Julia broke free and ran to Jenna. Chad put his hand out to right her, and she ended up in his arms, fish and all! He held her in the traditional ‘dip kiss’ position and passers-by whistled at them. Once again she heard the click of a camera, and then another one, and Jenna’s and Julia’s giggles.

Um....sorry, she uttered as he helped her regain her footing. So sorry.

That’s okay, he said. Grinning, he slowly released her.

Blushing profusely, Willow hobbled her way over to Jenna. Through gritted teeth, she demanded: Why did you take the photo?

Grinning, Jenna retorted, And why not?

Whose phone did you take the last photo on?

On Chad’s.

Willow’s heart raced suddenly. "Are you crazy?"

Chad gave a throaty laugh from behind her. Thanks Jenna, he said. Those photos will surely remind me of the great people I met today.

But...but.. Willow began.

Don’t worry about it, he said, turning to her. It’s all in good fun.

Jenna gave him the phone and he slipped it in his pocket, away from Willow who was hoping to persuade him to delete the images. She remembered the foxy vixen he had on his arm that day in the bookstore. She surely didn’t want to contend with that woman again! Well, it’s just as well since they weren’t going to see each other again. Thank God!

Well. It was great meeting all of you, Chad’s voice broke through her reverie. He shook Jenna’s hand, then Willow’s, and tousled Julia’s hair.

Enjoy your fish Willow, he said.

Do you want to share our lunch? Julia piped up.

Willow cringed and held her breath.

Thanks, but no thanks, he said to the little girl. I have to meet someone.

The foxy vixen, no doubt, Willow thought.

Oh... a sigh of disappointment escaped Julia’s lips. Willow exhaled too, hers a sigh of relief.

He tousled Julia’s hair again and walked away, turning once to wave goodbye.

Willow watched his back for a moment or two, the sunshine playing happily on his light autumn jacket highlighting his muscular form beneath it, and the jeans hugging his slim hips.

Great specimen of a man, Jenna said.

Jenna, Willow turned her attention to her friend. I didn’t like what you did.

What?

Don’t play innocent. Do you remember the bookstore incident? Jenna nodded. You remember I told you about the woman hanging onto his arm? What if she sees the photos?

So?

How would you like it if your boyfriend or husband took a photo like that with another woman?

Ignoring her question, Jenna said: You’re not some other woman Willow. You’re the person he helped fishing. Plus, he wouldn’t have taken photos with his phone if he didn’t want to.

Willow snorted. You put me in a weird position Jenna, that’s all I’m saying.

What position? Jenna asked. You plan on seeing him again? He doesn’t even have your number.

Willow was silent for a moment. Jenna did have a point. She wasn’t going to see him again, so what was she worrying about. Plus he looked like an intelligent man who knew how to avoid trouble; he probably deleted the photos already!

Reiterating her thoughts, Jenna stated: You realized, he probably deleted those photos already right? Who’d keep photos of strangers in their phone?

Willow playfully pushed her friend, and Jenna pushed her back, smiling. For once, Willow hoped Jenna was right.

CHAPTER 2

Fear.

There was no more room left in her life for fear.

She’ll have it no more.

Faith.

There was only a small amount of faith left.

She’ll have more of that!

Conquering fear and standing up to see her glass half-full is something Willow Pichard vowed to put into practice. But her circumstances seemed bent on reminding her that it is easier said than done.

Take this morning for example. It’s November 1, the first day of NYC Novelist of the Year Contest for New Authors, and her computer refused to cooperate.

Frustrated Willow banged on the keys.

A slow computer, a sleep deprived brain, and a hungry stomach were certainly not the right components needed to create the ideal formula to begin what is supposed to be the most productive morning of her life!

Today begins a new era in her life; she would enter the local Novelist of the Year Contest for New Authors. At least that’s what she decided at her early morning pep talk in front of the bathroom mirror. Well, more like she talked herself into it, and she wasn’t about to let the chance slip away because her wayward computer refused to cooperate!

Willow looked at the screen, and silently willed the cursor to cease from chasing itself. When she couldn’t endure it any longer, she groaned and got up in a sudden burst of energy. Overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of hunger pangs, she headed for the kitchen, retrieving the tablet from the dining table on her way there. Jenna had sent her an email. She gasped when she opened it.

There she was, perched in Chad’s arms clutching the fish while he leaned over her as if he was about to kiss her. Anyone looking at the picture, without knowing the details of the events, would think they were more than just strangers! Well, at least she wouldn’t have to see him again, and by now she hoped Chad had deleted them. What had come over her yesterday? Somehow, she had fallen captive to his smile.

Willow shook her head. No time for daydreaming! There was work to be done!

She had been up for ages, and wanted to get the first wave of early morning inspirations and fresh ideas down before she forgot details. She should have gone with her gut feeling, and write her ideas in her journal instead of on her laptop. Now she had only some words down, and the rest she had already forgotten in her frustration!

Writing for the NYC’s Annual Local Novelist of the Year Writing Contest for New Authors hosted by Wickham Publishing, was an honor and something she had always wanted to do, but never had the courage to even attempt it. Although the contest is local, there are thousands of authors in NYC with which she’ll have to compete. With only 30 days and 60,000 or more words to write, Willow could feel her anticipation mounting. A week ago she had given herself a ‘pep-talk’ to be bold and step out the box. Her writing was in a box too, and she wanted to break that mundane writing stint she was in.

Willow put the kettle on and turned the front right burner to high. A nauseating wave of putrid gas odor wafted to her nose. She quickly turned the dial off and opened the kitchen window. She had forgotten it was broken. It was just another thing in her life that didn’t work.

Nothing seemed to work in her house, and there was no money to fix anything. Her weekly pay at The Hollow, the restaurant attached to the Wickhollow Hotel on 75th and 2nd, was just enough for food and her living expenses. Her extra money came from tips, and freelance writing. She wrote short stories and articles for magazines and e-zines. But, she hadn’t written in months, and the stack of bills were piling high on her kitchen counter with broken things urgently in need of repair. Her prayers seem to go unanswered too. It was as if God forgot she existed. But deep down she knew it was her lack of faith that stood in the way.

Sighing, Willow quickly lit the back burner and moved the kettle there. Her pathetic life was enough to make her depressed, but she refused to look at the glass half-empty. Something has got to give, she knew that. There were so many things to be repaired and amended in her life, she had no idea where to start.

Broken! That’s how she felt. Ever since her parents passed away two years ago in a boating accident, her life was never the same. However, after being dragged by Jenna to the Real Faith seminar six months ago, she felt her attitude was beginning to change. Her parents would have been proud to know she was about to take the biggest step in realizing her dream as a writer; especially her mother, who had always encouraged her to write.

I’m going to make you proud Mom, she said, determinedly.

The sudden high-pitched shrieking of the kettle broke Willow out of her reverie. She turned the burner off and poured the hot water into the waiting mug. Then she returned to the den with her tea. Her computer screen was still frozen, but now she only smiled at it and reached into her father’s desk drawer and pulled out her journal. Curling up on the sofa by the window with the steaming mug of tea beside her on the coffee table, she began to write.

A wave of relief came over her when her ideas and inspirations came flooding back in one swift memory. She only had 30 days to write this novel, and by God she was going to do it!

With her ideas penned to paper, she read them over. They were great ideas but they were scattered ones; nothing was cohesive due to the lack of a story plot. On