Book Launch! 'Pumpkin Pie', and Disappointments.

The launch of Book 6 in my Meg Sheppard Mystery Series is fast approaching!

I hope you can join me on Sunday, November 17 between 1 and 3 pm at Blue Heron Books, Uxbridge, Ontario.

It will be a fun event with readings, giveaways (more info to follow), nibbles, and surprises (I might reveal what these are later!).

Everyone is welcome.

There is a blurb on my book on the home page of my website vickyearle.com

After my story 'Pumpkin Pie', there are two videos of the most recent and, unfortunately, disappointing races for Prized Spirit and Audi's World. That's 'horse racing' for you! There are lots of 'downs', but we hope to be compensated with some 'ups' before the end of the 2024 racing season.

I'll keep you posted!

The following story was my contribution to the October Uxbridge Writers' Circle word challenge. The words we had to use are in italics.

Pumpkin Pie

Lucas believed the redemption he so desperately sought would not be his. Besides, he couldn’t even forgive himself. He ached for the days before it happened—when he’d worried about things that appeared trifling in retrospect.

He kicked some pebbles rounded by the incessant washing of the angry sea and trudged along the beach, stepping over rotting piles of seaweed. The reek was nauseating, but he didn’t care. Lucas believed he deserved to suffer for what he had done.

This coast was famous for its rollers. They crashed onto the shore, rattling the pebbles and spouting salty spray into his face. The noise helped, a little, to ease his pain. It felt good to be at the edge of such powerful fury. 

He had marketed himself as a change agent. This was popular with companies that planned to restructure to increase efficiency, productivity, and profitability.

Lucas was hired by a company that distributed mountain climbing equipment to stores across North America. It also sold online directly to the customer. The company had new owners and a recently appointed balding and round-bellied President who drove a Porsche. He explained that he was looking for efficiencies. Lucas was given carte-blanche to talk to any of the staff and review financial statements and annual reports. He was also asked to compile a current inventory of all assets and employees.

He sat down on the wet, cold pebbles and tossed one of them into the foaming crest of an approaching wave which reached his bare toes and then pulled away as if in distaste.

He would never forget her face. Cora’s silky auburn hair danced as she talked, but it was her deep brown eyes that captivated him. He enjoyed making her smile and it was easy. She had the broadest grin when he said that he admired how she’d revolutionized the warehouse inventory control system without hiring outside experts. He genuinely thought she was a brilliant, dedicated, and inspirational leader.

He met her for dinner three times—ostensibly to talk about the company and to hear more of her insightful ideas on how to increase efficiency and productivity.

But things took a nasty turn.

Lucas had just started on the interesting part—developing a new structure to match his progressive recommendations on purchasing, warehousing, and distribution. But that’s when the President announced the plan had changed. Lucas had a migraine coming on before the President finished telling him. His services were no longer wanted, but his weekly reports had been most helpful—in fact, they’d informed the new initiative. Lucas cringed as he was told, indirectly through half-truths and innuendo—that the company was to be decimated. Warehouses to be sold, staff laid off, and equipment liquidized.

Lucas was paid for the work he’d done, but he was sickened. He’d been used as a pawn to create a path that led to asset stripping. He would be blamed. He knew he’d be the scapegoat. And what made it unbearable was that Cora had trusted him.

He couldn’t face her.

He stood up. His cold, wet feet wobbled on the pebbles. He couldn’t remember where he’d put his sandals, but he didn’t care. He tried to argue that he wasn’t to blame, that it all would have happened anyway, but that wasn’t the point. He’d facilitated the new owners’ mission to strip the assets and leave dedicated, long-term employees without jobs or the pension which, by rights, was theirs. And his reputation as an honest, trustworthy management consultant was irreversibly damaged.

He stumbled up the beach, with his back to the sharp, onshore wind, and lumbered up the worn stone steps to the top of the seawall. A diesel train roared as it emerged from the tunnel in the cliffs. He walked towards the railway track. It would be easy. He stood at the railing. He only had a few seconds to make up his mind.

A hand tapped on his shoulder, startling him. He hadn’t heard anyone approaching.

“I thought you’d be here,” his brother shouted. The train thundered towards them making the ground groan and tremble. Lucas turned and inhaled deeply. It was a relief to see his brother’s face.

“Someone came to the flat to see you. I told them I’d find you and you’d meet them in the coffee shop in about an hour. You didn’t answer your phone, so I came looking.”

“Who is it? I’m not in the mood.”

“They don’t want me to tell you. It’s all good. Don’t worry.” He smiled and patted Lucas on the back. “Come on, let’s get home. Are these your sandals?”

Lucas couldn’t be bothered to change or shave or make any effort before walking to the coffee shop. His brother told Lucas he knew the person, and everything would be fine.

Lucas entered the coffee shop and saw Cora at a table near the back. She waved. But it couldn’t be her he was to meet. She must despise him. So, he walked up to the counter.

She stood up and joined him.

“I ordered a slice of pumpkin pie with cream for you. You could at least sit with me while you eat it.” She smiled and the sparkle of her dark brown eyes made his heart skip a beat.

Lucas couldn’t think of anything to say and meekly followed her to the table, disbelieving that she wanted to be with him.

“I’m sorry,” were the only words he found the gumption to utter once they were seated.

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t buy the company. You didn’t sell off the assets and line your pockets with the cash. I get it. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

He stared at his pumpkin pie. How did she know he liked it?

“Your brother told me a whole bunch, including what you like to eat in this coffee shop. So, you’d better eat it. I can’t afford to waste money.”

He hung his head.

“I didn’t say that to get at you, I said it because I struck a deal with those pariahs. I have a warehouse and some inventory, and I’ve lined up a couple of investors. I’d like you to join the team. How about it?”

Lucas stared at her. Was she teasing him? Was this a sick joke?

“You silly man. I’m offering you a partnership in my venture. You said you believed in me and that I’m a natural leader. Well, here’s your chance to prove you weren’t just spouting hot air. Be my partner.”

She grabbed his cold hands that were laid flat on the table.

“I mean it.”

Vicky Earle Copyright 2024

Two Disappointments

Prized Spirit:

Audi's World:

Both horses are well and doing fine.

Perhaps they'll each run a better race before the end of the racing season!

Please mark your calendars: Book Launch, Sunday, November 17, between 1 and 3 pm. Everyone is welcome!

Thank you for reading my post.

Vicky