THE BILLIONAIRE BARITONE

Amethyst loves music and enjoys hip-hop dancing to spice up her dull and dreary life. But one evening on her way home from dance class, she hears a voice that drew her away from her route.

Caught in the act of eavesdropping, her life is about to change in a way she has never foreseen.

David didn't quite know what to do with the beautiful trespasser, but when he learned that she was injured, taking care of her was the only solution.

Little did he suspect that she was about to take care of his lonely heart in return.

CHAPTER 14

I couldn't decide which hurt more: my hand or my foot. Both were throbbing with each heartbeat. I had no idea what time it was, but unless I find those painkillers the doctor prescribed, I won't be getting any more sleep tonight.
“Great, now where did she put them?”
Before I could swear at the poor nurse, a swirling light caught my attention.
It was a mobile phone's screen changing colour every few seconds.
If it wasn't for the pain, the light show on the walls would have been soothing. It looked really pretty.
The phone was connected to a cable. charger probably.
“Crap,” I muttered. What the hell was David doing sleeping in the chair?
Probably thinking that I was incapable of doing anything for myself. It reminded me that I still haven't found those meds.
At least I knew my handbag was in the closet in the room. Phyllis was kind enough to put it there when we arrived.
I looked back at his sleeping form. It might be the soft light from his phone, but he looked relaxed and at peace when he slept. Good thing my hand hurt, and he was too far away to reach, otherwise I would have been more than tempted to push that stray lock of hair off his forehead.
I shook my head. “Idiot,” I hissed under my breath and turned to the other side. Relief shot like an arrow through me when I spotted the jug of water, a glass and the bag from the hospital.
I reached over with my left hand and carefully unfolded the top of the paper bag not to wake him. Inside there were three boxes.
I sighed. It was too dark to see which one I had to take and how many was recommended.
I eyeballed the distance to the bathroom door. I could hop over there, then he won't wake up from the light.
Settling on my plan of action, I shifted to the edge of the bed. At least my butt was fine, or maybe it recovered faster.
Carefully putting both feet on the floor, I slowly got up. My ankle hurt, but it wasn't worse than before.
I grabbed the bag in my good hand and slowly made my way to the bathroom. It was painful to put my weight on the foot, but I managed. At least I was not damaging it further because it wasn't broken.
One last look at his sleeping face I gently closed the door, before switching on the light. I press my elbow against the wall for additional support until I could sit down on the edge of the bath.
I took a moment to catch my breath.
Lifting my aching foot onto the lid of the toilet, I put the bag down and reached inside. The first box seemed to be the right one. I pressed two tablets out onto the edge of the bath.
I couldn't bring the glass from the bedside table with me.
Damn, there wasn't another in the bathroom.
Now, what? Two maybe three options popped into my head. Either swallow the tablets dry...yuck.
Or take them trying to drink from the tap with only one hand to use for balance and to drink from. That seemed a bit of a nightmare to figure out. My head ached just considering this choice.
The best was to put the tablets back into the bag, go back into the room, and use the glass on the bedside table to take them.
“Can't just one thing be easy?” I muttered in frustration.
“Amethyst?”
His voice startled me, and I could feel my butt slipping from the edge of my tub.
“Oh oh, oh!”

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Linzé's Mischief: 11 September 2016

I am losing it...with a smile.

This year has been nothing but roller coaster ride - up and down, up and down. The same can be said of my attempt at losing weight. With every down turn of events in my life, the invariable up occurred in my body mass. This year I have been more aware of this trend and tried hard not to get bogged down into comfort eating when things are not going well. My stress levels are stable, but still high, and that makes it more challenging to look after my health.
Yeah, that is the crux of the whole matter, my health. I have lost 7kg so far. Not much considering the road I still have ahead, but I feel more confident in the way I am tackling this problem. On the one hand it is easier than I thought, but still more challenging too.

I made an assessment of my eating habits and came to the following conclusions:

1. My meals are healthy - breakfast is muesli and soya yoghurt (I vary it with a whole grain cereal a few times a week), lunch is a banting kind of meal (no starch) and dinner usually is chicken (sometimes meat) with veggies or a salad. If necessary I will sweeten breakfast with xylitol (I have grown to dislike the taste of sugar)
2. My official snacks are healthy too - around mid-morning I have fruit, and late afternoon another fruit or a second tub of the soy yoghurt.

Note: Because of my milk allergy, I use rice milk to thin the thick soy yoghurt. I find the rice milk powder quite tasty and have come to prefer the powdered product to the pre-mixed rice milk version also available.

This left me with the unofficial snacking that I am often guilty of. I love chocolate, but because of the milk, my choices are very limited. I also tended to use this as an excuse to indulge in buying more chocolate bars than I should. I stopped doing this. Sure, I still have about one chocolate bar a week, but it is better than the quantity I consumed before I decided to lose weight.
Despite my chocolate craving, I don't much of a craving for other kinds of candy. If I have a dessert, it will also be chocolate/cocoa based.

Things I am avoiding as far as possible (mostly because of my blood sugar) but it helps with the lifestyle change too:

• white rice (in a restaurant I will have a salad, at home I will eat brown rice),
• potatoes (chips, fries - they are not just bad because of the starch but also the amount of salt; I will eat mashed potatoes but not more than once a week)
• bread (will eat rye or low GI - for lunch only)
• pap (a local corn-based starch usually served with a tomato based salsa)
• I will eat a pasta based dish once a week (love that Italian starch way too much to give it up)
• takeaways are out, unless there is some crisis at home - we might have pizza once a month, but mine has to have a lot of protein to limit the effects of the starchy base on my blood sugar. I am still looking at banting style pizzas with a suspicious eye.

Linzé's Vivofit monitor

I don't have time to go to the gym (and really don't like it anyway) but walk between 5 and 7 km each day at work - this includes climbing stairs. Weekends can be more or less depending on what we have going on.

This biggest change I have made is to stop snacking after dinner. Personally I think it has been the primary reason I am actually losing weight. After dinner I am not so active, since that is the time I am writing. If I get a craving for something, I have coffee, tea or a glass of fruit juice. If my blood sugar drops, I would normally eat something to help, but not after dinner. 
I use a low GI powder (sold as part of some fancy diet plan) and mix it with the rice milk to stabilise my blood sugar. Of course it still has calories, but that cannot be helped. Fortunately, it is not a daily problem. I keep this same powder mix at work, just in case. Some days involve a lot of running around, or stressful meetings that can drain my body's resources faster than usual.
I keep a handful of candies at home and at work, but only if it is an emergency. I have been on that scary edge of passing out, so I know when to eat them instead of drinking the diet mix.

Linzé Brandon

It may not be the best 'diet' but it is working for me and my lifestyle. Please note that my GP is monitoring my blood pressure medication combined with my weight loss. The plan is to go off the meds completely as soon as possible, but I still have some way to go before that will happen.

If you are struggling to lose weight, you are not alone on your journey.

More info about low-carb diets click here

THE BILLIONAIRE BARITONE

Amethyst loves music and enjoys hip-hop dancing to spice up her dull and dreary life. But one evening on her way home from dance class, she hears a voice that drew her away from her route.

Caught in the act of eavesdropping, her life is about to change in a way she has never foreseen.

David didn't quite know what to do with the beautiful trespasser, but when he learned that she was injured, taking care of her was the only solution.

Little did he suspect that she was about to take care of his lonely heart in return.

CHAPTER 13

In the room everyone was buzzing around to get things ready; getting ready included fiddling with me.
"You just have to look a little sick, since really sick people don't go home."
I had to frown at the nurse. A little sick? Seriously?
What else could I do? "I will try."
David grinned at my feeble attempt to look weak. I glared at him, but it only made him grin wider. Eventually, I gave up and grinned too.
"Okay, you two," Phyllis spoke up when she returned to my room dressed as a nurse.
We shared a guilty look, but she wasn't fooled.
"Everything is ready. Shall we?" Phyllis pointed to the door.
When David lifted me from the bed, I felt one hand slip under the hospital gown to grip my naked thigh. I narrowed my eyes at him, not fooled by that innocent gaze.
Damn, then he had to go and look at me like I was about to be his lunch. My stomach knotted tight, and I looked away. Men like him didn't go for girls like me.
I was more than happy that he didn't say anything. Once I was on the gurney he stepped back for the real nurse to do her thing.
Two minutes later they rolled me out at the hospital. David walked by my side. He mentioned that Phyllis' asthma was public knowledge, so the staff put a breathing mask over my face and put a small oxygen bottle on the gurney to make as if it was real.
Good thing I was lying down, because my long hair would have given the game away in a second.
The hardest part was not laughing. Once or twice I glanced at Phyllis or David and they both seemed to enjoy having fun at the expense of the press.
I was nervous and afraid that I was going to screw up all their planning. Neither of them looked concerned, and I wished I could be that confident.
Only inside the ambulance did I manage to find my breath. Phyllis and a real nurse went with me, with David following behind in his own car.
The driver even switched on the siren for a few blocks, making all of us giggle. I had never been inside an ambulance before, but this trip was fun.

* * *

When we got to the estate Phyllis directed the driver to the back of the house away from any prying eyes or lenses in this case.
The growl of David's car came to a quiet stop next to us. He held the door for the nurse who slid my gurney halfway out.
He held out his hand. Thinking that he was only helping me get to my feet, I took his hand. Damn. The next moment he lifted me into his arms again and ascended the stairs to the first floor.
I opened my mouth to protest.
"Forget it," he said with a wink. "It isn't every day that I get to play the superhero."
Phyllis tried to hide her smile. I crossed my arms and glared at him.
"Not going to work,"  he said and took the second flight as if I weighed nothing.
"Fine," I mumbled. It only earned me another wink. Crap, now I am blushing again.
At least he left the room once I was on the bed and being attended by the nurse and Phyllis. I was definitely more comfortable once dressed in a nightgown. It was less revealing for a start.
"There we go," the nurse said once my pillows were pumped high and my hand elevated on another pillow she put on my lap.
"Mrs. Moorecroft will call if you need anything else. Take care," she added and left with a smile. I promised myself to do everything possible to get better. The Moorecrofts had already done so much for me that I couldn't continue to be a burden.

* * *

David accompanied the nurse out, while Phyllis went to change back into her own clothes.
When they returned to the guest room, Amethyst was sleeping.
“Poor thing had a stressful day,” Phyllis said as she put a blanket over her.
David didn't reply, only reminded his mother that she needed to get ready for Jeff's performance.
“Aren't you coming?”
“Not tonight. I will stay with Amethyst, but might go out to the factory again. I am not sure the situation is under control and don't want to spoil your evening if I have to rush out in the middle of the performance.”
She frowned. “I hope you brother is as understanding.”
“It's okay, really. I spoke to Jeff on the way home, and he agrees with me. He will meet you at the theater and escort you back home afterward.”
She patted his arm. “Have a good evening.”
Checking that Amethyst was still resting, he went to his own rooms to shower and change.

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Linzé's Mischief: 4 September 2016

Almost every morning this past week, I sat on the stairs of the time share apartment in Club Mykonos. I had my journal on my lap, a cup of coffee close by, and a view to die for. Most mornings it was a sunny view of the ocean, but the last few days a thick fog rested over the resort.
I am not a water baby - the Atlantic ocean is way too cold for me anyway - so my time was mostly spent musing about my editing, and watching people.
The complex of apartments was built in the rough shape of a horseshoe, with the open end right on the beach. Our apartment was about a 100 meters away from the beach. At times the waves crashing over the rocks were so loud that I had to go inside and close the door just to be able to think.
Early mornings were the most interesting. As I sat and observed the world, I noticed men holding a cup of coffee (I presume) were also out on their balconies (the complex has two floors of apartments) enjoying the sea air. Sometimes I saw a family having breakfast together, but never a woman. Maybe they were sleeping late or were busy inside. I found that odd.
Since Francois is an early riser and prefers the early morning light for landscape photography, I think he woke the seagulls when he did his daily walkabout. I saw some of his photographs - stunning!
If I made it to my observation post before 9 am, I spotted more photographers as they made their way to the building where the Congress presentations were held. They carried name tags to identify them - that's how I knew they were photographers. Some even had cameras with them!

The resort has two of these large chess sets and one of them was within my line of sight. It was fascinating to watch people, teenagers mostly, play the game. They must have been bored to tears if resorting to playing a game where you had to apply your brain and not your reaction time. Of course, one game was about the limit of what they could manage, and then they were off to where the wi-fi connectivity was more reliable.
The beach wasn't suitable for swimming, too many rocks, and no lifeguard. It didn't deter the odd parent and toddler to build a sandcastle, though. During our visit, the tide came in during the morning, so playtime was fairly limited.
One morning I walked around the harbour. It is not suited for commercial shipping, but judging by the number of sail- and motorised boats, it is a popular venue for people enjoying boating. They offered tourist trips on a catamaran (a rather big one to my ignorant mind) out into the bay area.

Commercial shipping made use of the harbour at Saldanha Bay a little further up the coast. We could see a tanker of some kind waiting its turn on the open sea.
On my hike around the harbour, I came across a fisherman standing on the rocks next to the harbour wall. Judging by the look on his face, he hadn't had much success that morning. Come to think about it, I think the only successful fishermen had been the reed cormorants who came in their hundreds for a quick lunch, before flying off to search for dinner somewhere else.
I didn't attend the Congress of the Photographic Society, although Francois registered me to make my meals easier to manage. Judging by the comments during the awards banquet (I did mention I was there for the food) it would seem that the photographers had the time of their lives. The speakers were well received and lots of new friends were made.
Congratulations to all the award winners, and a special mention goes to Francois (aka Hubby) for receiving his APSSA in print photography. (Photo on Instagram)

PS: I managed to edit the prologue and four chapters of my next novel. Not as much as I had planned, but considering all the rewrites, not bad for five days' work.

Book Release: METRO DIARIES - 2 by Namrata

About the Book:

Give life another chance. Laugh a little longer. let go of your past. Hold onto what you love. In short LIVE rather than just exist!



Some told, some untold, some heard and some unheard - this collection of stories will make you look at life in a different light and make you ponder over its definition of it till now.


Goodreads I Amazon






Reviews for Metro Diaries 1:

After touching your hearts with 'Metro Diaries - Love Classics' she is back now with stories that will redefine life for you!

The stories in Metro Diaries - Love Classics are free from any trappings of youthful slang and fashionable language stunts. These young adults are speaking to the readers with Namrata’s maturity shining through, and Namrata’s ideas of love. - Sakshi Nanda 

The language is fairly pleasant to read and the elaborate discussions between characters in each story must have taken a lot of work – because the most difficult job of all authors is to bring out human emotions in proper words. Thankfully, Namrata has concentrated upon it very well! - Dhivya Balaji

About the Author:

Namrata is A Lost Wanderer who loves travelling the length and breadth of the world. A published author in various anthologies and magazines she enjoys capturing the magic of life in her words. She is forever in pursuit of a new country and a new story.

Contact the Author:

Website * Facebook * Twitter

THE BILLIONAIRE BARITONE

Amethyst loves music and enjoys hip-hop dancing to spice up her dull and dreary life. But one evening on her way home from dance class, she hears a voice that drew her away from her route.

Caught in the act of eavesdropping, her life is about to change in a way she has never foreseen.

David didn't quite know what to do with the beautiful trespasser, but when he learned that she was injured, taking care of her was the only solution.

Little did he suspect that she was about to take care of his lonely heart in return.

CHAPTER 12

David entered Amethyst's room with a grim look. Phyllis got up and waved him outside, not wanting to disturb the patient who was resting.

“What's wrong? Did things change at the factory? We saw it on the news.”

He shook his head. “Not that I know off. The problem is the press. They followed me here. I was too upset to notice until it was too late.”

His face hardened. “I don't want them to find out about Amethyst.”

Phyllis nodded in understanding. They lived with security to keep the press away, but they would make the young woman's life a nightmare if they found out she knew David and Jeff.

“How did you get here?”

Phyllis arched an eyebrow. “Sean dropped me off. Why?”

He nodded in approval. The chauffeur he employed also served as additional security for his mother.

“It means that the press doesn't know that you are inside. This place has good security, and the staff is discreet. Can we say that you came for a routine check-up or something to explain why I am here? We own this place so it would make sense for you to come here for even a minor medical reason.”

“They don't happen to be here for someone else?”

He shook his head. “Not our lucky day; I checked.”

She bit her fingernail. “What about Amethyst? We cannot just throw her to the wolves. And she cannot go home either. She will still need assistance until her hand is healed.”

He took a deep breath and let it out in frustration. “What do you suggest?”

He narrowed his eyes at the sudden gleam in Phyllis' eyes. “What are you thinking?”

She smiled. “I got this. You just be ready to talk to the press when I come back.”

“Okay,” he replied, but he didn't sound convinced even to his own ears.

In Amethyst's room, he waited and watched her sleep. He wondered if she had any idea of the impact she had made on the lives of so many people in such a short time.

The people whose lives he changed today were still in shock, and it would take a day or so before they grasp the reality of the factory closing down. But everyone would be found an opportunity, he gave his word.

He looked at his watch. He promised Jeff that they would be at the concert tonight, but now it looked like it wouldn't happen. Maybe Phyllis could ask a friend to go with her since he had heard his brother perform in several countries, while Phyllis preferred not to travel because of her asthma.

The door opened to let his mother inside.

“Everything is arranged.”

“What is?”

Even as she explained, David frowned. “It's a good plan, except for one thing.”

“What's that?”

“We need Amethyst to agree to this. Otherwise, it would be kidnapping.”

“Oh. I didn't think of that,” Phyllis replied.

He got up and stretched his arms and shoulders. “I suggest you wake her and get her permission. I am going to the bathroom and then I am going to talk to the press. Ten minutes.”

She made a sound like a snort, but he had left already.

When she turned around, two blue eyes were watching her with suspicion. “You want to kidnap me?”

Feeling foolish, Phyllis quickly explained their plan to sneak out of there to avoid the press.

Amethyst sat up. “But I am nobody, why would the press bother me?”

She closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head. “David and Jeff. You think I am going to sell some kind of story to the press to get my name into the papers? Why would you think that? I may be poor, but I don't do things like that!”

David rushed inside. “What is going on? We need to leave. Everything is ready.”

He looked from his mother to Amethyst. The one looked frustrated, the other about to cry. He decided the tears would be the worst so he went to the bed and took her hand in both of his. “Please do this for me. I have had a terrible day, and only want to make sure you don't have to worry about the wolves out there.”

She looked at their hands. “Are they that bad?” she whispered.

It made his heart ache to hold her and soothe her fears. Instead, he smiled. “Vultures. The lot of them.”

She smiled too. “Okay then.”

Their smiles faltered, but neither looked away.

Were her eyes so warm and open for him? He couldn't remember anyone looking at him like that. Women he knew before all had some hard edge to them. Maybe Jeff was right. Maybe he should look somewhere else for his happiness.

His hand automatically lifted to cup her cheek. Such soft skin. His thumb gently traced the curves of her bones and hovered at the edge of those kissable lips. She licked her lips and the heat level in his blood shot up to an inferno.

Is he going to kiss me? He read the question in her eyes.

Can I kiss her? He thought in return.

“Are we ready to go?” a cheerful voice interrupted, and he stepped away with regret.

Amethyst's shy smile told him she felt the loss as much as he did.

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FOLLOW ME: Club Mykonos

My husband, Francois, is one of the directors and member of the Photographic Society of South Africa (PSSA). One year ago they announced that this year their annual Congress would be held at Club Mykonos. It is situated on the outskirts of the town of Langebaan in the Western Cape.

Follow me - Johannesburg, Cape Town, and Langebaan

Now, when he mentioned that the Congress' location, I told I wanted to come along. I am not a member of PSSA, nor have I any wish to join, but letting the opportunity pass to visit this part of my country? Never!
So here we are. Have a look at some of the pics I took along the way. On that you have to forgive the quality of these images, I took them from with my mobile phone from a moving vehicle! 

Click this link https://www.instagram.com/explore/tags/pssacongress2016/
or go to my Instagram profile https://www.instagram.com/linzebrandon/
or search the hashtag #PSSACongress2016 on Instagram or Facebook for some of the photographs.

THE BILLIONAIRE BARITONE

Amethyst loves music and enjoys hip-hop dancing to spice up her dull and dreary life. But one evening on her way home from dance class, she hears a voice that drew her away from her route.

Caught in the act of eavesdropping, her life is about to change in a way she has never foreseen.

David didn't quite know what to do with the beautiful trespasser, but when he learned that she was injured, taking care of her was the only solution.

Little did he suspect that she was about to take care of his lonely heart in return.

CHAPTER 11

Phyllis switched off the television set. They had just seen the whole spectacle on a live news broadcast.

My heart ached for those people, but I also felt proud of the way David handled the situation. It must have been really hard to tell them that they no longer had a job.

The TV presenters didn't show what happened after that, but somehow I knew David didn't dessert his employees.

I had no right to feel that way, but there was no getting away from one's feelings. I twisted the blanket around and around as I considered my own situation. The chances of me still having a job by the time I got released was remote. It wasn't a good feeling.

I looked at Phyllis, sitting next to my bed serenely sipping her tea. To be honest, I envied her. Having money was one thing, but to be so content and happy were things I had not experienced since my parents died.

She had eaten Jeff's intended lunch, even a little of the dessert, after confessing that she didn't like ice cream or custard.

I looked at my own empty dishes. People who complained about hospital food had never gone without. My stomach was aching, but I held my tongue and finished my own cup of bush tea.

“What is going to happen to them?” I asked nodding at the TV hanging high above the floor against the wall.

Phyllis put the cup down and looked at me. “I don't know; my poor son.”

“Why did you say 'poor son'? It is his responsibility, isn't it?”

Phyllis put her cup and saucer back on the tray and sighed. “David has a brilliant mind for business strategies—”

“But not with people?”

She nodded. “He was always the quiet one, finding it hard to make friends.”

I found that almost impossible to believe given all the women I had seen him with in the tabloids. Maybe those women were only interested in his money. I couldn't be with someone and not want to talk to him. Listen to him talk about his dreams for himself and his future.

Phyllis smiled. “Jefferson is the opposite, but he chose the piano instead.”

“The piano?”

That was a surprise. I thought Jeff had been the one singing that night.

“Yes, he is a classical pianist. We should go to a performance soon. He would love it if you came.”

I couldn't afford it, but held my tongue. It would sound ungrateful after everything the Morecrofts were doing for me.

“Does he sing too?” I had to ask.

Phyllis laughed. “No, that is David's pleasure. I love it when both my sons make music together. And trust me, that doesn't happen very often these days.”

I could feel my heart jump when I remembered that rich and shiver-inducing voice. “It was David singing at the house? Outside in that theater thing you have at the back?”

“Yes, it was him. He likes to sing opera arias, the focus it requires helps him deal with stress.”

She stopped and took my good hand. “Is that why you were there? To hear him sing?”

“I didn't know he sang. I was on my way home when I heard someone sing. It drew me. It was so beautiful. I am not smart enough to understand opera, but I love music, and I couldn't help but go closer to listen.”

Embarrassed I looked down at my aching hand. “I am sorry for all the trouble I have caused you. I shouldn't have gone there in the first place. Getting injured is a sign that I screwed up.”

“Nonsense,” Phyllis replied. “None of us think that. In fact, we are all happy to have met you.” She winked. “My sons especially.”

“I like them too,” I replied avoiding her eyes.

Exhaustion dragged me down in the bed, and I closed my eyes. My foot hurt, but it was okay. I was going to be okay. It was what survivors did.

Even drifting off I wondered why David didn't sing all the time. He had such a beautiful and expressive voice. My problems didn't exist when I listened to him sing.

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Linzé's Mischief: 23 August 2016

New Year's Resolutions and Unfinished Paintings

I am all for having New Year's resolutions, but like many people I have a hard time sticking to them. This year, however, seems to be the exception to that rule - to my delight, I have to say.
When the first of the year rolled around - seven months and a few hundred hours ago - I made myself the promise to do more art this year. Sure, I have always set aside one month of the year, usually December, where I do nothing else except art.
But as a writer first and foremost, this created some problems: despite my intentions, I always ended up writing instead. I did paint, or sketch, but not as much as I wanted to, and always had to spend more time getting my fingers into 'art' more instead of writing mode.
So I set a new challenge for myself: I was going to do art one weekend every month. It lessens the guilt and withdrawal symptoms of not writing for days on end, and my fingers don't forget their art skills. Win-win all around!
And it has been working like a charm. I have three books (maybe four) coming out this year, one being the fourth novel in my fantasy romance series, and I have managed to do more sketching and painting than I have managed in the Decembers of the past few years.
After submitting my tiger for the Art Feeds the Soul competition in my art group earlier this week, I have been wondering what to do next. I have some ideas, one or two already outlined, but somehow the call of the paintbrush/pencil/pastel didn't come when I looked at those. Frustrated, I went back to editing Waiting for Adrian, and then got stuck in a scene where I have to rewrite the whole thing.
Irritated with my lack of progress in any creative project, I set about cleaning up the library (where I paint) at home. And there stood (taller than I am!) an unfinished painting that I started many years ago. I took off the very dusty plastic covering and stared at it for an indecent amount of time - it was like staring at the scary blank screen when starting a new writing project. Something had to be done!
It is an abstract resembling a lead-glass window inspired by a book I bought, even more years ago with the designs from Frank Lloyd Wright. I took one look at that book and bought it without giving it a second thought. So while my brain ponders the rewrite of that very important scene between Erin and Adrian, I will be expending my creative energies on painting my orchid lead-glass window on canvas.

What do you do when a creative project is not going to plan?

THE BILLIONAIRE BARITONE

Amethyst loves music and enjoys hip-hop dancing to spice up her dull and dreary life. But one evening on her way home from dance class, she hears a voice that drew her away from her route.

Caught in the act of eavesdropping, her life is about to change in a way she has never foreseen.

David didn't quite know what to do with the beautiful trespasser, but when he learned that she was injured, taking care of her was the only solution.

Little did he suspect that she was about to take care of his lonely heart in return.

CHAPTER 10

With worried faces, the managers followed David into the building as the fire alarms started screeching.

They followed him to the production floor and then outside to the loading bays where the two groups were now throwing insults at each other. The women looked scared and were clutching their purses like a lifeline.

Once they were spotted the crowd turned their ire to them. David raised his arms. The crowd quieted down.

Those arrested were put inside police vehicles with bars and armour protection.

“You remember last year during the strike of the whole textile industry I told you if anything like that would ever happen again, I would have to close down the factory.”

People were getting fidgety.

David looked around. The labour representative was missing. Typical. Now that he was in trouble, he left the people he was supposed to represent to fend for themselves. Maybe they would learn from this and stop supporting people who didn't really care about them.

“That day has come,” David continued. “The sabotage this morning destroyed the future this factory still had once and for all.”

A roar started up, and the police reinforced their position.

David held up his arms once more and waited for long minutes for the crowd to quiet down again.

As he waited, he heard a young woman say to her friend. “What now? I have a baby. Where am I going to get a job?” She started crying.

Amethyst's face appeared before him. Like her, they were people who depended on their salaries to support themselves and their families.

He never got involved at this level of his businesses, but meeting Amethyst changed all of that.

“I know this is a difficult situation that we didn't plan for—”

“What do you know? We need these jobs to feed our families!”

David nodded. “I know. If you would give me a chance to continue?”

The crowd murmured among themselves but kept looking at him.

“As I said, we didn't plan for this to happen. We have a list of everyone who have families to support and we will start with you. Single parents and single income families will be looked at first to see where we can find work for you.”

He looked around. “Where are the HR people?”

Five people raised their hands in the air.

He pointed towards them while addressing the crowd. “Okay. Make sure that they have your details on files and that your work experience record is up to date. I will have them contact other companies in the area, to start looking for opportunities for you. This might take a few days, so please be patient. Your salaries are covered until the end of the month, so there is no need to panic. Any questions?”

While he answered questions, the young woman who mentioned her baby came forward and managed to get onto the loading dock with him. Without saying anything she ran forward and hugged David.

“Thank you,” she whispered, wiping her face.

He swallowed hard as she stood back and blushed furiously. “I am sorry,” she whispered.

He reached out and took her hand. “No, I am sorry that this had happened, but we are going to try and make it better again. Okay?”

She nodded, smiling now.

He nodded to one of the women who stuck up her hand earlier. “Please start with...what's your name?”

“Cynthia,” she whispered.

“Cynthia,” he continued, making the crowd applaud.

When the questions were no longer coming, he turned to the managers still with him. “Our people got a raw deal today. Make sure you pull all your contacts and favours to help them get jobs in the area.”

He pointed a finger at them. “I want daily progress reports. Not just numbers, I want the details Who, where, when they start, their new salaries, benefits, the works. Got that?”

They all nodded.

“Good. Your futures depend on your success in helping them,” David said and pointed over his shoulder, “and helping the police sort through all the evidence they need.”

He paused for a long moment. “I have a feeling this wasn't some random labour incident.”

“Get going,” he ordered. He looked at the financial manager. “Nicole, walk me to my car.”

As they walked, they discussed the process to shut down the factory.

“I will get on it right away,” she said as he got into his car.

“Let John know if you need anything.” John Lambert was the chief financial officer of the whole group of companies.

She nodded. “I will.”

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THE BILLIONAIRE BARITONE

Amethyst loves music and enjoys hip-hop dancing to spice up her dull and dreary life. But one evening on her way home from dance class, she hears a voice that drew her away from her route.

Caught in the act of eavesdropping, her life is about to change in a way she has never foreseen.

David didn't quite know what to do with the beautiful trespasser, but when he learned that she was injured, taking care of her was the only solution.

Little did he suspect that she was about to take care of his lonely heart in return.

CHAPTER 9

All the way to the factory, the only thing he saw was the smile in Amethyst's eyes. While he called the company lawyer and the factory's manager again, he thought about were those blue eyes.

Upon arrival at the premises, he could see the workers outside. They were being held at bay by the police. This was bad.

When he got out of his car, he was met by the lawyers of both the workers and the company. The labour representative was there, as well as two of the managers of the factory. They all started talking at the same time. He held up his hands.

“Are the people still inside safe?”

The factory manager nodded. “We managed to get the troublemakers outside before they caused more damage.”

David looked at him. “What did they do?”

The production manager sighed. “They set fire to the stockrooms and destroyed the bales of clothing that were ready to ship this week. We got the fires out, but I am afraid we couldn't save any of the stock or the shipments.”

“I see. The security footage?”

“It is being checked right now with the police present.”

The lawyers started speaking again, but he shut them up.

“This is arson and destruction of property. Why are they threatening to strike?”

No one spoke. David arched an eyebrow towards the labour representative. “Well?”

David couldn't help the sneer he aimed at the man. He had never trusted the guy, but since he wasn't on the payroll, there wasn't anything he could do to get rid of him.

He was still glancing from the one to the other man in the group, avoiding David's eyes, when the factory manager spoke up.

“There was an incident on the floor. Two guys got into a fight.”

“And why wasn't it stopped then and there?”

The factory manager shifted from one foot to the other, but he didn't look away. “We were too slow. By the time security made it to the floor, people were already getting involved. We had to call the cops.”

The head of security and three police officers approached. “We have the names and faces of the ones responsible for the damage. Do you want to press charges?”

David looked away from the people with him towards the group of people making threats and shouting all kinds of slogans at the police.

“Yes, but can we wait for a few minutes. What about the two guys who started the fight?”

The head of security spoke up. “It looks like they were used to cause a distraction. The fires were started when most people were getting involved in the fight.”

“We will take them into custody for questioning,” one of the officers said.

David nodded. “Okay. Where is Nicole?”

The financial officer of the company was called. She came out with a police escort.

“Short answer,” David began after greeting her. “How much did we lose?”

The number Nicole mentioned made him clench his jaw. He nodded. It wasn't her fault, so venting his anger at her was not going to solve anything.

He nodded to the police. “Arrest the guys and charge them, but don't leave yet. I want to tell everyone with them present what damage they had done today.”

The cops left.

He looked at the security personnel watching the mob, then addressed their boss.

“Wait until the police have arrested everyone, and then activate the fire alarm to evacuate the building. Keep the women and the men inside separate from these people.”

“What are you going to do?” the factory manager asked.

Nicole replied. “The only thing he can.”

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Book Feature: WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN by Lynn Steward

Linzé: How would you explain the value of good story telling in women's fiction?

Lynn:  Good story telling in women’s fiction transcends any period. An example would be Middlemarch by George Eliot. Although a Victoria novel, the themes are universal and relatable today: the consequences of life choices, conflicted spouses in an unhappy marriage, power struggles, and maintaining dignity. Periods, locations, and personalities may change, but human frailties remain the same.

ABOUT THE BOOK

As a fashion buyer at one of New York’s most glamorous department stores, Dana McGarry is a tastemaker, her keen instinct for fashion trends and innovative ideas coupled with a razor sharp business sense. But like the elegant and conservative store that employs her, Dana is caught between two eras—between being liked and standing her ground, between playing by the rules and being a maverick. Dana is sensitive and beautiful, but what you see is not what you get. Behind the cool and attractive facade, Dana is both driven by her need to control yet impeded by her expectation of perfectionism.

As she competes to replace women at the top of their game, she is challenged by jealous colleagues. And when a wealthy love interest wants to open doors and support her ambition, she embraces Coco Chanel’s mantra of “never wanting to weigh more heavily on a man than a bird.” As the women’s movement paves the way, Dana finds a path to the career she wants at the expense of happiness that was not meant to be.

Steward captures the nuances of 70s life in New York City and provides the perfect backdrop for an independent woman determined to make her mark. What Might Have Been is a story that transcends any period.

Title: What Might Have Been

Genre: Literary fiction/women’s fiction

Author: Lynn Steward

Website: www.LynnSteward.com

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/What-Might-Have-Been-McGarry-ebook/dp/B00U8CR2KG

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lynn Steward, a veteran of the New York fashion industry and a buyer on the team that started the women’s department at Brooks Brothers, created the Dana McGarry series, set at a transformational time in the 1970s world of fashion and in the lives of multigenerational women. What Might Have Been is the second volume in the series. A Very Good Life, Steward’s debut novel, was published in March 2014.

LynnSteward.com

Pinterest.com/LynnStewardny

Facebook.com/LynnStewardnyc

Twitter: @LynnStewardNY

THE BILLIONAIRE BARITONE

Amethyst loves music and enjoys hip-hop dancing to spice up her dull and dreary life. But one evening on her way home from dance class, she hears a voice that drew her away from her route.

Caught in the act of eavesdropping, her life is about to change in a way she has never foreseen.

David didn't quite know what to do with the beautiful trespasser, but when he learned that she was injured, taking care of her was the only solution.

Little did he suspect that she was about to take care of his lonely heart in return.

CHAPTER 8

True to his word he returned quickly but had a frown on his face.

“What's wrong?”

He crossed his arms. “The nurse said you could only have ice cream if you eat proper food first.” He dropped his arms and sighed.

“So we will just have to eat proper food before we can have dessert.”

David turned when he heard laughter coming from her room, distracted from his call. When the man said his name again, he closed his eyes for a moment. “Okay. Don't panic. I will be there as soon as I can.”

After he rang off, he spotted Phyllis coming towards him.

“Good morning, Mother.”

She smiled as he kissed her cheek. “And how is our patient?”

He waved her inside and followed. “Why don't you ask her yourself?”

“I have to go. There is a problem at the factory on Main street. Jeff, don't you have a concert to prepare for?”

Jeff looked at his watch. “Yeah, gotta go. The damn conductor is a pain in the butt.”

He kissed Amethyst and Phyllis on the cheek. “Sorry, ladies, the great Jefferson Morecroft has a concert hall that awaits his genius.”

The women laughed at his antics, and David envied his brother's easy going personality. Despite his drama queen act, he was a great guy.

He turned to the women. “I will see you later. Mom, a moment please?”

Phyllis patted Amethyst's leg. “You relax, and I will be right back.”

Outside her room, David rubbed his forehead.

“There is a labour strike threatening at the factory. Could you please look after Amethyst? Make sure she eats properly?”

Phyllis nodded. “Of course, don't worry.”

He turned then stopped. “One more thing: find out what the hell she was doing at the house.”

Ignoring his mother's scowl at his language, he dug out his car keys and left.

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