In A DEAD GUY AT THE SUMMERHOUSE, set in 1968, Mitch is hired from his home in the orphanage by wealthy eccentric Amelia Hardesty. He bonds with her instantly, and resents it when Alexander (Sandy), the mansion’s cook, seems to be badmouthing her — and Mitch.
Kablooie
an excerpt from A DEAD GUY AT THE SUMMERHOUSE
by Marian Allen
“So you’re saying she picks people up off the street like stray dogs and brings them home and then they piddle on the rug and I’m one of them, is that it?”
“No! God, no, kid, I didn’t mean that! You’re taking me wrong! I mean, maybe before, but, like I said, you’re okay. She seems to be sticking to home now, so she’d be more careful who she brought here, wouldn’t she? Before, she’d just breeze in from Tahiti or Venice or French Lick or someplace, dump somebody on us, and breeze off again. How they worked out was between them and us. Half the time she didn’t even remember them the next time she buzzed through. Crazy old dame.”
He must have seen something in my face, because he quickly added, “I don’t mean that in any bad way. She’s just, you know, kind of flighty. Spoiled little flapper girl who never grew up, if you ask me.”
I could see that. I could imagine Aunt Missy, young and slim, in a mini-dress with fringe on the bottom, doing the Charleston with Bertie Wooster. “I think she’s groovy,” I said. “I think she’s a gas.”
“Well,” he said, in a let’s-be-reasonable tone, “if you want to put it that way. All’s I’m saying is, she’s no personnel manager, that’s all. Corrie looked like she was going to work out fine, until Miss Amelia brought that Albert in here. Then, kablooie!”
~*~
A DEAD GUY AT THE SUMMERHOUSE is available in print and for Kindle and Kindle apps at a very reasonable price. Just sayin’.
A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: Someone disrespects somebody your main character likes very much but doesn’t actually know very well.
MA
Jane
December 28, 2014 at 10:25amA-Hah!
Clever writing prompt!
In a way, I used to have to struggle with my writer friend, from many different angles, on that one. He had pretty good radar on snap judgements; he’d met so many people coming on to him from SO many different directions. But mostly wanting something from him, you know? I just enjoyed his company, and then his friendship. But, man, was it ever a struggle when somebody from my real life might show up at a con and get drunk-ish with him. Whew!
Sometimes, you don’t pick your friends. They sometimes pick you.
(You and me, of course, picked each other!)
Marian Allen
December 28, 2014 at 2:03pmI hope some day to have the problem of people trying to curry favor with me because I’m in a position to do something important for them. For the time being, I’ll have to make do with hungry cats. heh
Jane
December 29, 2014 at 9:51amYes, they are a needy bunch. BUT they oh so appreciate your devotion. Except when they do’t.