Jen Allen's Blog - Posts Tagged "romantic-comedy"
Visions of You: The First Chapter!
After twenty-something years, I finally did it. I pulled the plug and put this story into the published world. Self-published, yes, and think of that what you will, but I will say it's nice to finally see it in a full-on finished form.
With that in mind, for those who aren't familiar with it, here is the first chapter of what I've come to call VOY, to wet your whistle as they say. And if it grabs your interest, I have the links to places you can purchase the ebook below.
Here we go:
Visions of You
The coffee sloshed from the cup, sizzling on her skin. Somehow she kept a steady grip on the saucer, managing a smile as she gave the lethargic businessman his unruly drink. Only with her back turned did she allow the wince. The tears soon followed.
She should have stayed in bed today.
Dabbing her burned wrist on her jeans removed the dampness but not the sting. Head down, she hurried past Dana and into the storage room. Only when the door closed behind her did she allow the tears to fall.
She had been so good all day - holding herself together hour after hour, long minute after long minute - but now, with ten minutes left of her shift and three stupid hours left in the day, she broke anyway. Almost in the clear – and yet still a failure – she wiped her eyes, resigned. Seemed she would always cry on her birthday.
“You should know that by now,” she told herself.
She shook her head, steeling herself, determined to stay afloat. All she had to do was go home, take a nice long bath, and see him. He would make it better.
She moved past the sacks of coffee beans, the bags of bagels, the mop and bucket, to grab her purse. She disregarded saying goodbye to Dana or anyone, disregarded clocking out, disregarded anything that would hinder her escape.
But the daffodil taped to the back door gave her pause. The little blip of bright yellow clashed brilliantly with the chipped gray paint, blanching the red brick walls and shining in the shadows.
Daffodils. Her favorite.
She took a moment, putting the flower to her nose and breathing it in. Closing her eyes, her smile grew and grew. Then she flew through the door, ready and raring to find him on the other side.
As the door slammed behind her, all she found was the empty rear parking lot, tinged in the eerie orange of the lone streetlight. Flies swarmed the nearby dumpsters, supplying the buzzing music and the only other source of life.
Swell.
She then spied a glint of yellow ahead. Another daffodil rolled back and forth in the persistent breeze, shining against the black-as-night asphalt like a vibrant yellow star.
Not too far beyond her star daffodil was another, then another, delighting the oil-stained and gum-spattered asphalt. Flower after flower blazed a curving trail around the building, disappearing into the delivery alley.
She ran to the daffodils, picking each one up and hugging them to her chest.
In the delivery alley, a fancy black car complete with a sharply dressed driver stood waiting. Though surprised to see him, she still smiled. He tipped his driver’s hat.
“What’re you doing here?” She picked up the final daffodil.
“Doing a huge favor for a mate of mine,” he said.
She beamed. “I love that mate of yours.”
“Haven’t got a clue as to why, but here you go. Put this over your eyes and get in.” He handed her a scarf and opened her door. “So I can take you to the stupid prat.”
She jumped into the car before he could finish his instructions, clumsily tying the scarf around her head with the daffodils pinned under one arm. Doors shut around her, and the rumble of the engine and faint renditions of rap music soon put them in motion. He attempted to chat with her but she didn’t listen, she couldn’t. She swayed with the movement of the car, her mind racing while her cheeks ached from all that smiling.
A blur of time and sound brought her to her destination. The door opened but she was told to keep the scarf on. She felt a hand on her arm as it navigated her out of the car.
The ground beneath her feet was hard and gritty dirt, its scent mixed with that of the daffodils still crushed to her chest. With the crickets chirping, she could almost see the starry night sky above her. Sounds of rushing cars, crowds, and civilization were but whispers, soft and distant. His hand left her arm for a moment and then returned to her other arm, leading her. She asked where she was going, but he didn’t answer.
After a few steps, she heard a door shut and the rumble of the car. The tires crunched over the dirt and rocks until she could no longer hear it.
“Wow.” She nodded, smiling. “That’s a super trick, driving the car away and leading me around at the same time.”
Silent, his hand left her arm. She heard the soft rustling of footsteps retreating, one, two, maybe three paces, and then they stopped.
“You can peek now,” said a new voice, the only voice she wanted to hear.
The scarf was off, flung away and forgotten before it hit the ground. Yellow sparkles danced before her, making her gasp at the sight. There he was, standing before her in their spot, lit by the twinkling of candles at his feet, the lights in the distance, and the few stars the city smog let in. The blanket he stood on held an expansive picnic of all her favorites.
She had to take a moment to relish how the soft candlelight reflected off his golden hair, alighting his big blue eyes, boyish smile and the single daffodil he held out to her.
By the time she reached him, her face was drenched again. He raised a hand to her cheek, using his soft touch to dry her tears.
“Thank God you were born, Maggie Leonard,” he said, letting his thumb grace her jaw. “That’s all I could think about today: thank God you were born. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He wrapped her in a warm hug, kissing her temple as her head fell to his shoulder. There, she soaked his shirt with tears. He held her tighter, kept her standing.
“I know it’s a hard day for you,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m so sorry.”
She moved her face into his neck, feeling his soft skin against hers, the tickle of his light stubble.
“I wish I could make it better,” he said, rubbing the back of her head.
She lifted her head from his neck, sniffing and shaking. “You’re not doing bad so far.”
He smiled, warming her through, then he leaned in, closing his eyes. Her nose bent as he pushed his against it, his breath breezing across her reaching lips.
Then he shrieked. It was short and shrill, loud enough for her to leap back, covering her ears. Then he did it again. And again. Screaming in his short, abrupt cries. The candles flickered and exploded. The ground shook and twisted, erupting with cracks and jitters.
She sat up with a gasp, her alarm clock assuming the shrieking position. The candles, the picnic, and the starry night were gone, erased in a blink. Now there was only her sunlit bedroom, her bed, her mismatched pajamas, and a demon clock.
Groggy and forgetting where the button was, she flipped the clock over – knocking several items off the table in the process – and somehow ended the godawful screeching.
Collapsing into the pillows with a sudden headache jabbing between the eyes, it took a few moments for the grogginess to fade and the reality of the situation to set in. When it did, she pulled the comforter up until it was a thick pile on top of her face.
“Well,” she sighed, “this is getting stupid.”
____________
You can get a bigger sample (and also purchase it if you so wish) at Amazon. It is also available in many other platforms found here.
Thank you so much for reading this in any capacity (even if you've only read this post) I hope you enjoy this story, and please let me know what you think!
-Jen
With that in mind, for those who aren't familiar with it, here is the first chapter of what I've come to call VOY, to wet your whistle as they say. And if it grabs your interest, I have the links to places you can purchase the ebook below.
Here we go:
Visions of You
The coffee sloshed from the cup, sizzling on her skin. Somehow she kept a steady grip on the saucer, managing a smile as she gave the lethargic businessman his unruly drink. Only with her back turned did she allow the wince. The tears soon followed.
She should have stayed in bed today.
Dabbing her burned wrist on her jeans removed the dampness but not the sting. Head down, she hurried past Dana and into the storage room. Only when the door closed behind her did she allow the tears to fall.
She had been so good all day - holding herself together hour after hour, long minute after long minute - but now, with ten minutes left of her shift and three stupid hours left in the day, she broke anyway. Almost in the clear – and yet still a failure – she wiped her eyes, resigned. Seemed she would always cry on her birthday.
“You should know that by now,” she told herself.
She shook her head, steeling herself, determined to stay afloat. All she had to do was go home, take a nice long bath, and see him. He would make it better.
She moved past the sacks of coffee beans, the bags of bagels, the mop and bucket, to grab her purse. She disregarded saying goodbye to Dana or anyone, disregarded clocking out, disregarded anything that would hinder her escape.
But the daffodil taped to the back door gave her pause. The little blip of bright yellow clashed brilliantly with the chipped gray paint, blanching the red brick walls and shining in the shadows.
Daffodils. Her favorite.
She took a moment, putting the flower to her nose and breathing it in. Closing her eyes, her smile grew and grew. Then she flew through the door, ready and raring to find him on the other side.
As the door slammed behind her, all she found was the empty rear parking lot, tinged in the eerie orange of the lone streetlight. Flies swarmed the nearby dumpsters, supplying the buzzing music and the only other source of life.
Swell.
She then spied a glint of yellow ahead. Another daffodil rolled back and forth in the persistent breeze, shining against the black-as-night asphalt like a vibrant yellow star.
Not too far beyond her star daffodil was another, then another, delighting the oil-stained and gum-spattered asphalt. Flower after flower blazed a curving trail around the building, disappearing into the delivery alley.
She ran to the daffodils, picking each one up and hugging them to her chest.
In the delivery alley, a fancy black car complete with a sharply dressed driver stood waiting. Though surprised to see him, she still smiled. He tipped his driver’s hat.
“What’re you doing here?” She picked up the final daffodil.
“Doing a huge favor for a mate of mine,” he said.
She beamed. “I love that mate of yours.”
“Haven’t got a clue as to why, but here you go. Put this over your eyes and get in.” He handed her a scarf and opened her door. “So I can take you to the stupid prat.”
She jumped into the car before he could finish his instructions, clumsily tying the scarf around her head with the daffodils pinned under one arm. Doors shut around her, and the rumble of the engine and faint renditions of rap music soon put them in motion. He attempted to chat with her but she didn’t listen, she couldn’t. She swayed with the movement of the car, her mind racing while her cheeks ached from all that smiling.
A blur of time and sound brought her to her destination. The door opened but she was told to keep the scarf on. She felt a hand on her arm as it navigated her out of the car.
The ground beneath her feet was hard and gritty dirt, its scent mixed with that of the daffodils still crushed to her chest. With the crickets chirping, she could almost see the starry night sky above her. Sounds of rushing cars, crowds, and civilization were but whispers, soft and distant. His hand left her arm for a moment and then returned to her other arm, leading her. She asked where she was going, but he didn’t answer.
After a few steps, she heard a door shut and the rumble of the car. The tires crunched over the dirt and rocks until she could no longer hear it.
“Wow.” She nodded, smiling. “That’s a super trick, driving the car away and leading me around at the same time.”
Silent, his hand left her arm. She heard the soft rustling of footsteps retreating, one, two, maybe three paces, and then they stopped.
“You can peek now,” said a new voice, the only voice she wanted to hear.
The scarf was off, flung away and forgotten before it hit the ground. Yellow sparkles danced before her, making her gasp at the sight. There he was, standing before her in their spot, lit by the twinkling of candles at his feet, the lights in the distance, and the few stars the city smog let in. The blanket he stood on held an expansive picnic of all her favorites.
She had to take a moment to relish how the soft candlelight reflected off his golden hair, alighting his big blue eyes, boyish smile and the single daffodil he held out to her.
By the time she reached him, her face was drenched again. He raised a hand to her cheek, using his soft touch to dry her tears.
“Thank God you were born, Maggie Leonard,” he said, letting his thumb grace her jaw. “That’s all I could think about today: thank God you were born. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He wrapped her in a warm hug, kissing her temple as her head fell to his shoulder. There, she soaked his shirt with tears. He held her tighter, kept her standing.
“I know it’s a hard day for you,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m so sorry.”
She moved her face into his neck, feeling his soft skin against hers, the tickle of his light stubble.
“I wish I could make it better,” he said, rubbing the back of her head.
She lifted her head from his neck, sniffing and shaking. “You’re not doing bad so far.”
He smiled, warming her through, then he leaned in, closing his eyes. Her nose bent as he pushed his against it, his breath breezing across her reaching lips.
Then he shrieked. It was short and shrill, loud enough for her to leap back, covering her ears. Then he did it again. And again. Screaming in his short, abrupt cries. The candles flickered and exploded. The ground shook and twisted, erupting with cracks and jitters.
She sat up with a gasp, her alarm clock assuming the shrieking position. The candles, the picnic, and the starry night were gone, erased in a blink. Now there was only her sunlit bedroom, her bed, her mismatched pajamas, and a demon clock.
Groggy and forgetting where the button was, she flipped the clock over – knocking several items off the table in the process – and somehow ended the godawful screeching.
Collapsing into the pillows with a sudden headache jabbing between the eyes, it took a few moments for the grogginess to fade and the reality of the situation to set in. When it did, she pulled the comforter up until it was a thick pile on top of her face.
“Well,” she sighed, “this is getting stupid.”
____________
You can get a bigger sample (and also purchase it if you so wish) at Amazon. It is also available in many other platforms found here.
Thank you so much for reading this in any capacity (even if you've only read this post) I hope you enjoy this story, and please let me know what you think!
-Jen
Visions of You: The Soundtrack!
If you ever followed my story postings over the years, you know I always have a soundtrack for each story. So of course I have to provide the soundtrack for my first self-published baby and I'm gonna do so here.
Since Visions of You takes place in 2002 (and I initially wrote it in 2001) there's a lot of either early aughts tunes, 90s tunes or even earlier tunes on there. The only one that's out of place time-wise is the Kina Grannis one, which came much later than the early aughts, but it just had the perfect vibe for this story, so I had to add it.
Here's the link to the Spotify playlist: HERE!
And here it is listed out with some explanations. Because I always have to have those too.
Visions of You the Soundtrack
1."Dreams" by The Cranberries: The story revolves around dreams. Kinda self-explanatory.
2. "Everywhere" by Michelle Branch: The line "When I close my eyes it's you I see" is what triggered me to think up the concept of this story all those years ago.
3. "Caribbean Blue" by Enya: I imagine this song playing during her dancing dream.
4. "Heat Wave" by Martha and the Vandellas: This is specifically for the chapter called "Attraction".
5. "I've Just Seen a Face" by The Beatles: Dream Boy's thoughts on our protagonist.
6. "America" by Simon and Garfunkel: Maggie's favorite song.
7. "In Your Arms" by Kina Grannis: As stated above, it just has the right vibe for this story.
8. "Drop in the Ocean" by Michelle Branch: The song is very focused on eyes and Maggie is VERY focused on Dream Boy's eyes, so . . .
9. "How" by The Cranberries: And now we have a heart-broken Dream Boy.
10. "Scarborough Fair/Canticle" by Simon and Garfunkel: Yeah, he's still heart-broken.
11. "Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town" by Pearl Jam: Mostly for the line "I seem to recognize your face". This is the first song for the chapter "Tardy of the Century".
12. "See You" by Foo Fighters: The other song for "Tardy of the Century"
13. "Thelma" by Paul Simon: Wrong name but right vibe for the last chapter. :)
14. "This Will Be Our Year" by The Zombies: Because this line: "This will be our year/Took a long time to come" speaks lots of truths for this story and I just friggin' LOVE this song.
And that's it! Hope you enjoy!
Since Visions of You takes place in 2002 (and I initially wrote it in 2001) there's a lot of either early aughts tunes, 90s tunes or even earlier tunes on there. The only one that's out of place time-wise is the Kina Grannis one, which came much later than the early aughts, but it just had the perfect vibe for this story, so I had to add it.
Here's the link to the Spotify playlist: HERE!
And here it is listed out with some explanations. Because I always have to have those too.
Visions of You the Soundtrack
1."Dreams" by The Cranberries: The story revolves around dreams. Kinda self-explanatory.
2. "Everywhere" by Michelle Branch: The line "When I close my eyes it's you I see" is what triggered me to think up the concept of this story all those years ago.
3. "Caribbean Blue" by Enya: I imagine this song playing during her dancing dream.
4. "Heat Wave" by Martha and the Vandellas: This is specifically for the chapter called "Attraction".
5. "I've Just Seen a Face" by The Beatles: Dream Boy's thoughts on our protagonist.
6. "America" by Simon and Garfunkel: Maggie's favorite song.
7. "In Your Arms" by Kina Grannis: As stated above, it just has the right vibe for this story.
8. "Drop in the Ocean" by Michelle Branch: The song is very focused on eyes and Maggie is VERY focused on Dream Boy's eyes, so . . .
9. "How" by The Cranberries: And now we have a heart-broken Dream Boy.
10. "Scarborough Fair/Canticle" by Simon and Garfunkel: Yeah, he's still heart-broken.
11. "Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town" by Pearl Jam: Mostly for the line "I seem to recognize your face". This is the first song for the chapter "Tardy of the Century".
12. "See You" by Foo Fighters: The other song for "Tardy of the Century"
13. "Thelma" by Paul Simon: Wrong name but right vibe for the last chapter. :)
14. "This Will Be Our Year" by The Zombies: Because this line: "This will be our year/Took a long time to come" speaks lots of truths for this story and I just friggin' LOVE this song.
And that's it! Hope you enjoy!
