Dinner Guests {short story}

The table was set for seven, but not a single person had arrived. The round twinkle lights still glowed, but they illuminated only dried-up hopes and empty chairs. The hostess had retreated to the deck, and she’d likely leave the mess until tomorrow. She’d worked so hard to pull this dinner together.

Yet no one came.

Perhaps it wasn’t their fault. Maybe something truly had come up. An emergency, perchance? Something dire that would give solid footing for their excuses?

Or maybe they were just all running late.

Continue the story on AndreaReneeCox.com.

Anything Release Tour + My Publishing Debut!

Friends, I'm just going to jump right in with the best news.

I'm finally getting published!!!

The King's Daughters' Writing Camp (KDWC) is putting out a collection of short stories and poems, and one of my short stories -- which has not yet been posted here on Writing to Inspire -- is going to be in it.

The collection is called Anything, and here's why:

A couple of camp sessions ago, several of the ladies in camp were recommending "anything" by this author or that author, meaning any of their published books. Someone in the group (and I really don't remember who) suggested that we all write Anything stories -- stories called Anything.

So a baker's dozen of us did!

Anything will be published this month -- on April 26, 2021. It will be available on Amazon, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and in paperback.

I can hardly wait for you to meet Sarah Mae and her rambunctious kids in my story, entitled Any Thing. Yep, my title is slightly different than the other twelve, in that mine is two words instead of one. I can't share the reason without spoiling the story, but let's just say there's a very specific and whimsical reason for the two-word title.

Stay tuned here on Writing to Inspire for future updates -- including some quote graphics! -- on my Any Thing story.

***

Now for the other news. I am pulling together a release tour for Anything, and you're invited! If you have a blog or social media accounts, the team and I would love to have you join us in celebration of KDWC's debut story collection. Just fill out the following form and let us know how you'll be able to help spread the word and get a buzz going for our debut release.

Tinsel Tidings {short story}

Before we get to the short story, I have a brief announcement to make. I have deleted my Facebook and Instagram accounts. They were fun while they lasted, but the new Terms and Conditions were much too intrusive for my taste.

My only social media accounts right now are Twitter and Goodreads. I would adore it if you'd follow me at one or both places, but the most important place at which to follow me is my blog, Writing to Inspire. There is a "follow by e-mail" option on the right-hand sidebar (on desktop), for your convenience.

I hope you'll have a delightful Christmas with your loved ones, and may the new year increase your joy a thousand fold.

***

Happy Thanksgiving! {short story}

Friends, I hope you have a blessed and happy Thanksgiving.

While 2020 has been filled with real-life disasters of overwhelming nature, I think it's time we revisit one of my old short stories that features a fictional disaster filled with encouragement. Here's hoping that 2021 swoops in with joy and overwhelming happiness for us all!

Copyright 2018 Andrea Renee Cox. All rights reserved.

Thanksgiving Disaster

a short story

by Andrea Renee Cox

Smoke billowed from the open oven and filled the matchbox, galley-style kitchen. With a growl, Sarah swept a cookie sheet swiftly through the air around the raging fire alarm. She’d already turned off the appliance, but she couldn’t find her broom to nudge the battery out of the alarm. If she didn’t get it shut up soon—

Bang! Bang! Bang!

She jumped, dropping the cookie sheet with a clatter. Her poor attempt at a grand jeté didn’t produce anything close to the splits she’d seen the ballerina do in that ballet she’d seen last month, but it did get her over the pan and into the living room. When she flung open the door, she stumbled backward.

The Card {a short story}

Scalding tea wasn’t fun to wear on one’s shirt, but it was better than frying another keyboard. Marla grabbed her “It’s definitely a Monday!” mug from her lap and settled it back atop the round coaster not too far from her shiny, new keyboard on her cubicle’s desk. With her other hand, she pulled the cotton material away from her stomach, which immediately felt the relief of cool, fresh air that whooshed at her from the fan she had blowing from a corner of the desk.

Earlier, she’d been freezing and had to pull on two sweaters. Why did her hormones have to choose today to go wacky? It wasn’t like she had a meeting in—she checked her wristwatch—Goodness!—only eight minutes or anything.

She grabbed one of her sweaters and blotted at the spot on her shirt and the few clusters of damp dots on her calf-length skirt. With that task done as best she could in a pinch, she tossed the sweater under her desk to reclaim later and focused on sending the right document to the communal printer across the large room. She pulled on her other sweater—thankfully, she’d not used the one with buttons to mop up her mess—and it did a decent job of hiding the majority of the stain that might or might not come out in the wash. After sticking her swollen feet back into her two-inch pumps, she spun her chair halfway around and rose.

Two steps forward and her ankle gave out, rolling to the right. She caught her balance with flailing arms, but the pain radiating through her leg with each new step indicated she’d be grabbing ice on her way back to her desk after the meeting.

This meeting was crucial, life or death for her year's to-do list really. Yet, she was having a horrible day from top to bottom. Honestly, what else could go—

The Flower {a short story}

Would the young boy never decide? Mortimer checked his wristwatch one more time and looked to the door. He should flip the sign to Closed and lock the child in until he made his choice, but it would be unprofessional and inappropriate. Still, he needed to close down the shop for the day. His Margaretta would have dinner on the table by now. He could almost taste the rich aroma of his favorite homemade tomato and mascarpone sauce wafting down the back staircase.

Coins clinked together as the towheaded boy in the ratty shirt and hole-spattered jeans counted the money in his palm again. He eyed the medium-sized bouquet of red roses displayed atop the glass counter in front of him. Valentine’s Day was only around the corner, but surely this scrap of a boy couldn’t afford such a bundle of deep-ruby petals.

“What’ll it be?” Mortimer didn’t mean to sound so gruff about it. The day had worn him out. Four orders had been cancelled, due to breakups mere days before the most romantic holiday of the year. Poor chums. Hadn’t found a true pearl like his Margaretta. He decided to soften his tone a bit and try to encourage the lad to make a quick decision. “Have you considered the daisies? There’s a full rainbow of colors to choose from, just in the bins behind you there.”

The boy turned his torso to look for a long moment at the various shades of daisies not far beyond where he stood rooted to the linoleum tiles that had seen better days. When he turned back around, his shoulders curled forward, and his chin nearly disappeared into his t-shirt. “Didn’t sell my bike to Tommy for no stupid daisies.” He swiped a wrist beneath his nose as he sniffed.

Mortimer couldn’t miss the glimmer in the kid’s eyes.

Rainy Day Blues {a short story}

Clouds painted the upper part of the window in front of Carly, who stood staring out at the driveway that had been empty all week. When would Daddy come home? He’d been gone a long time, but he’d promised he’d be home before church day. That was coming soon, she was sure, but she couldn’t remember which day was today.

Rain streaked down the other side of the glass and pattered against the roof. Did that mean God was as sad as she was right now? It sure looked like He was crying with her, but maybe He was just watering the ground so the flowers would come up real pretty when it was springtime again. How long would that be? Probably a lot longer than Daddy would be gone, but Carly couldn’t be sure since she couldn’t tell time yet.

“Do you want a snack, Carly?”

She shook her head but didn’t look back at Mommy. Instead, she pressed her palms and nose up against the glass, leaning up on her tiptoes to see even more of the outside world.

All of it was wet.

Characters Who Celebrate Christmas In the Story {reading challenge}

Holiday Baking

It's the week of Thanksgiving here in America, and that means I'm busy baking and cooking up a storm. I finally decided on the new recipes I'll be trying. I've been told holidays are not the times to test out new-to-me recipes, but I beg to differ. I've only come across a couple of duds over the years, and thankfully they were ones I taste tested before sharing... which means I didn't share those couple of things. But I've found some really great dishes over the holidays through my teens and twenties. Now that I'm in my thirties, I feel like it's practically tradition for me to try something new for Thanksgiving and Christmas and sometimes even New Year's Day.

Take a Walk with Me - a short story

Fair warning:

This one's a tear-jerker. Grab some tissues before reading any further!

“Take a walk with me.”

Every day for the past thirty-eight years, Malachi had said the same thing to her at this time of day. Right at sunset with dusk on the other side of the horizon waiting to greet them as they traveled down the old wooden pathway he’d laid in place when they’d built the place up into a special oasis in which to grow their love for each other and the kids they’d eventually had.

Now it was Michelle’s turn to ask him to take a walk with her. Only, she’d be pushing his wheelchair rather than holding his hand as they maneuvered their way through the woods to the vale at the end of the path. It was their special place, and she was attempting to see that even the paralyzing grip of his recent stroke wouldn’t take that away from them.

For all she knew, this might be the last time he’d see the place where they’d spent so much of their married life.

Packing My Bags - a short story

Note: This one got a little long (just under 1,800 words), because I kind of got on a roll. I hope you like it!

He was packing up clothes in our walk-in closet. Not his clothes, mind you. Mine. I watched from the doorway, my face a complete mess from the hissy fit I’d just thrown when he told me he was kicking me to the curb. My side of the closet was nearly empty now, and I still didn’t know what I’d done to make him mad enough to talk of a separation, to force one upon me so suddenly.

Did it really matter what I’d done, what he hadn’t done, which mistakes the pair of us had made, how often, how big, how messy…?

Our life was a wreck from the moment we got back from our honeymoon and he stopped in front of his parents’ house. When he turned and said, “Honey, we’re home,” I thought I’d die of mortification. Live with his parents? I’d rather melt into the car seat like a crayon on a summer day in the Lone Star State.

Kind - a WWII Christmas story - by Kellyn Roth

Have I told you yet that I love a good WWII story? It's my favorite genre right now.

Recently, I had the pleasure of reading a delightful short story that highlighted the compassion of the era.

FTC Disclosure: I received a complimentary copy of this book from Reveries Co. A positive review was not required. These are my honest thoughts.

Here's the review I left on Goodreads:

A charming, quick story, Kind touched my heart with its thoughtfulness and depth. I love a great WWII tale, and this little shorty fit the bill nicely. The characters were realistic and the compassion, tangible. I adored the German setting and felt the Christmas spirit throughout. My emotions were swiftly drawn in with the witty banter and then swept up in the bustle of the Slade family’s trials. While I didn’t cry (this time, at least), I did get the good sort of chills, which is just as good as tears in my book.

The Border Between - a Christmas short story

Merry Christmas, my dear readers!

I hope you have a wonderful Christmas with your loved ones. I'll be spending the holiday with my parents and sister. Before we get to the gift-exchange portion of the celebration, we'll be reading the Christmas story about Jesus coming to earth in order to save our souls. This is my favorite part of Christmas.

Here's a short story for you to enjoy. It was inspired by YOU, my sweet readers, who participated in this contest.

Note: This short story made the finals of a contest. Further details below the story.

Copyright 2018 by Andrea Renee Cox. All rights reserved.

The Border Between

by Andrea Renee Cox

inspired by Kellyn Roth (and her brother James)

The cityscape puttered by the window. Helene Jackson checked her diamond-studded watch and tapped a single knuckle on the glass partition between the cab driver and herself.

The dark-skinned man glanced over his shoulder and gave her a smile of crooked but gleaming-white teeth.

“Can you hurry up a bit? I’ve got somewhere to be.”

He cracked the partition open a couple of inches. “Do you need more air? The air condition is broke. I’m so sorry. I think the heater work.”

Helene picked a speck of dust from her slacks and looked down her nose at the driver. “I need you to find the gas pedal.” She adjusted her handbag from one thigh to the other. “Whoever thought to use the heater on a seventy-degree day, anyway?”

“Are you happy for Christmas?” He gave her another smile, this time accompanying it with a bobble head-style nod, before looking back at the city street before him.

“Not particularly.”

“My little girl, she is so happy this morning. She tells me, ‘Papa, you bring much happy to passenger today.’ I tell her I will try.” A chuckle bounced across the space between them.

“I didn’t ask for a commentary, only a ride.”

Thanksgiving Disaster - a short story

In honor of Thanksgiving, here is a short story that was so much fun to pen. Happy Thanksgiving!

Copyright 2018 Andrea Renee Cox. All rights reserved.

Thanksgiving Disaster

a short story

by Andrea Renee Cox

Smoke billowed from the open oven and filled the matchbox, galley-style kitchen. With a growl, Sarah swept a cookie sheet swiftly through the air around the raging fire alarm. She’d already turned off the appliance, but she couldn’t find her broom to nudge the battery out of the alarm. If she didn’t get it shut up soon—

Bang! Bang! Bang!

She jumped, dropping the cookie sheet with a clatter. Her poor attempt at a grand jeté didn’t produce anything close to the splits she’d seen the ballerina do in that ballet she’d seen last month, but it did get her over the pan and into the living room. When she flung open the door, she stumbled backward.

This is the Day - a short story

Here's another short story that's inspired by YOU, my faithful readers. (See this article for the contest and entry that inspired this particular story.)

Copyright 2018 by Andrea Renee Cox. This story may not be copied or reprinted without prior written consent.

This is the Day

inspired by Caitlyn Santi

“… and that little monster bit me when I was trying to take his vitals.”

Lena slammed the first of two doors on her coworker’s grumbling. She’d had just as rough a time as he—though, she hadn’t been on the receiving end of a teeth chomping—during the work at an apartment-building fire. At least they’d finally been released to come back to the station, where they’d been for the last hour, sanitizing and restocking the bus.

She angled an irritated gaze his direction. “Mark, I get it. You got bitten, it hurt. Move on.”

“I don’t think you’re getting it.”

The next door banged shut even louder. “I get it just fine. We both had a rough day. If you don’t mind, I’d like to go clock out and enjoy what’s left of the waning daylight.”

“Want to go to dinner?”

A skeptical look shot to her face before she could halt it. “That’s, what? The fiftieth time you’ve asked me out this year?”

“Oh, at least.”

31 Italians - a short story

Here is another short story inspired by YOU (see this article for details). This one is not a complete story as it will most likely become a full-blown novel -- if not a complete series -- because it's cranked up the wheels of my imagination. So, please understand going into it that it shall end abruptly, as this is a snippet from chapter one.

This story, once completed, will touch on some tough topics, such as alcoholism and grief, yet it will also bring along some humor and lightheartedness that are so necessary to balance out the heaviness of those deeper issues.

I'm excited about this story, but I won't have time to flesh it out completely yet, because I've got other writing plans in the coming weeks and months.

Copyright 2018 by Andrea Renee Cox. What follows may not be copied, published, or used without prior written consent.

31 Italians

Inspired by CutePolarBear

I hope you’re hearing this from me first.

If any of my siblings broke the news… Let’s say this: They have little tact. That doesn’t quite sum up the whole of it. They blow things out of proportion.

Way out of proportion.

There was… an incident... a series of incidents, you see. Rather small ones.

It all started with a butterfly…

Five Things to Do When You're Stumped on Article Ideas

Here are five things to do when you can’t think of what to write for your next blog article.

1. Cruise Twitter or Facebook or any other social media site.

Most posts are simple tidbits into random people’s lives or self-promotions about the latest books, movies, products, etc., but they can make you smile or inspire you to find words of your own. I like cruising Pinterest on occasion, and every now and then I find a new type of dessert or crock pot dish to try. Once I taste the results, if it turns out delicious, it feels like I didn’t completely waste my time online. Haha.

2. Watch classic movies on TCM.

I’ve found quite a few gems on Turner Classic Movies, and the hosts give interesting facts and trivia about movies, directors, writers, actors, etc. Some of the information is a ton more than I’d care to know, but most of the time I enjoy learning what they have to share with the viewers. It’s always fun to see some old favorites, but it’s also entertaining to find new-to-me classic movies that pique my interest and inspire me to keep plugging away at storytelling.

Skyscraping - a short story

I'm busy this month on an editing job, but I took out a bit of time to express my creativity. The result of that is this second short story inspired by YOU. (See this article for further details.) Let me know in the comments what you think about this one.

*Copyright 2018 by Andrea Renee Cox

Skyscraping

inspired by Gabriellyn Gidman

A large cage with a squawking bird in it was shoved into Adrienne Stanton’s arms, causing her to fumble the huge stack of stuffed file folders she’d been carrying. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

Jacqueline Bronson swept her long, straightened brown hair off her shoulder with a manicured hand. Her perfectly-tweezed eyebrows arched in a menacing way. “I don’t care. My ex gave it to me—as if that was a good two-month anniversary gift—but we broke up last night, and I don’t want it anymore. Get rid of it.” She spun on her super-high heel and stalked back to her desk. The gray material of her power suit didn’t dare wrinkle when she perched on her high-end arm chair. No cheap rolling chairs for Ms. Bronson!

She glanced up with narrowed eyes. “What are you waiting for?” She gave her fingers a flick. “Shoo. Go!”

Diving In

Things are so busy around here.

I read 82 books in the first half of the year, which quite shocked me, honestly. Only two or three of those were ones I didn't end up finishing, yet they are still off of my to-be-read pile now. Of course I'm not stopping there. I would love to duplicate the awesomeness during the second half of the year.

The first month of my two-month summer session of tutoring is completed, which reminds me that summer certainly does fly. I'll get a full break from tutoring in August, and I plan on enjoying it. In the meantime, I will appreciate the moments I get to work with "my kids." They grow so fast and learn so much over the course of even a short summer session.

July is another Camp NaNoWriMo. It's hard to believe it's arrived already. I'll be diving in on several projects for it.

Last to Call - a short story

This is the first of the short stories inspired by YOU, my dedicated readers. I appreciate all of you so much, and the contest I held a while back was only the beginning of showing you how deeply I appreciate your following my blog. This short story is a little longer than I intended, but once I began discovering the characters and situation, I simply couldn't stop until they'd had at least a piece of their say. In fact, I'm thinking of expanding this one into a full-length novel at some point. After you read it, please tell me: What would you think about this one becoming a full-blown novel?

*Copyright 2018 by Andrea Cox.

Last to Call

inspired by Angela R. Watts

An owl screeched as Tristan tromped through the dusk-shadowed Garden of the Gods park. It was his favorite place to think after a long day’s work at the shop. Being a mechanic was tough, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

He checked his phone. No texts or voice mails. Why was it that the one person you wanted to ring you was always the last to call?

Giggle and Butterflies - a Short Story + Contest

Are you ready for another original short story?

I had a blast writing this one, and I hope you enjoy the lightheartedness of it. Stay tuned till the very end, because there's an opportunity for you to help me figure out what to write next.

* All material under COPYRIGHT by Andrea Renee Cox. This story may not be copied, reprinted, or quoted without prior written permission. *

Perspiration dribbled down the arm Jessica was scrubbing with. She wiped her brow with the other, just-as-sweaty forearm, and pushed herself to finish cleaning the base of the shower stall. Would the soap scum spots never come completely clean, no matter how many different cleaning products she applied, along with elbow grease? She huffed, and the puff of air flicked a few stray strands of ginger-colored hair away from her face. Unfortunately, the hair flopped back and stuck to her cheek.

A few minutes later, when she felt her arm was going to fall right out of its socket, the upbeat tones of one of her favorite classic songs tripped into her range of hearing. Fred Astaire’s voice lilted about dancing cheek to cheek with his gal. A smile spread across Jessica’s face, and she found new vigor for her chore.

Suddenly, the rag was ripped from her hand.