Friday, February 13, 2009

Valentine's Day Contest

In the spirit of love and romance, let’s have a little story contest. We’ve done something like this in Romantic Notions, the newsletter that comes with each shipment of Heartsong books. Here are the details:
  • Create a story that incorporates as many titles as possible from the recent list of Heartsong award winners.
  • Keep word count between 500-700 words.
  • Submit the story by Friday, February 20th to editcafe@barbourbooks.com
  • Entries will be judged based on number of titles incorporated AND the quality/creativity of the story. In other words don’t just throw the titles in. The story needs to be creative and make sense! :)
  • What’s in it for you? A fun way to practice your writing skills and a GRAND PRIZE for the winner of a dozen great Barbour books. We’ll include at least four new 2009 releases in the prize package and some nonfiction and children’s books, too. If we have enough good entries, we’ll also do a couple of runner-up prizes.
  • The winner(s) will be posted on the blog by February 27th.
  • Any questions? Post a comment.

Happy writing and Happy Valentine’s Day!

13 comments:

Mary Connealy said...

No matter what I did I could NOT fit Buffalo Gsl into this story!!!
To fit in this one last title, even though it make NO SENSE TO MY STORY, I'm naming my mini-book

Quills and Promises

So impatient about the long road home, upon Betsy’s return, she went immediately to see the captain’s wife.

Her old friend knew Betsy was always wild at heart and had urged her to go on a journey before she settled down, pursue her carousel dreams of working with the circus, at the very least, find a time to laugh.

Well, Betsy had found more than laughter, she’d found a new joy, true treasure in the hills, because, out of the blue, she’d fallen in love with a reckless rogue.

Now she was no longer building castles in the air, instead she was planning four things,
1) a wedding,
2) a home,
3) a new job, and
4) a deeper faith in God.

Oh wait there was more, she and her true love, wanted children and baby makes five.

As she neared the captains home, nestled under the butterfly trees she tried to shake off her captive dreams and think of the future.

She went into the captain’s house and invited him and his wife to her wedding by the beckoning sea, beneath the Seneca shadows.

She promised to wear the captain’s wife’s wedding dress, if the dress fits.

It didn’t though, so the wedding became very casual. The bride wore coveralls, the groom wore spurs and the preacher wore a gun.

It was a perfect day until the cranky mother-in-law, fat as a buffalo gal??? appeared. But her horrid attitude was set aside once she saw her son’s happiness, the day was even saved from her nasty breath of garlic and roses disguised the reeking anyway.

And they all lived happily ever after.

The End

JoAnne said...

LOL, Mary!!! :)

Debby Mayne said...

I'm impressed, Mary!

Mary Connealy said...

Upon re-reading that it's more of a wedding announcement followed by a rude assessment of the future mother-in-law than a romance novel, so, anyway, that'd be one weekness in it.

Rachel Overton said...

Typical Mary--I'm laughing out loud!

Anonymous said...

". . .that'd be one weekness in it." ~ mary

Weekness! LOL! Mary, sweetie, is this the product of too many butter body wraps? I did think it was utterly moo-ving.

Mary Connealy said...

Thank you for editing me, Anonnymouse. i shoudld have editted mysefl beter.

Anonymous said...

Hey, Dude-ette, it's totawy okey. Etiding is what I do best. Just ask my etider.

Is Gingham Muontain like a big wmoen in Gingham? Enliten me, I'm cureous.

LaTisha Barnhart said...

I'll let S. Dionne do the submitting thing if she wants, I'm posting my story right here...

It’s a story from way back. In the times when The Bride Wore Coveralls, The Groom Wore Spurs, and The Preacher Wore a Gun and, for safety from western vampires, the bride also carried a bouquet of Roses and Garlic. A time when Buffalo Gals was the song heard beyond the walls of every saloon around midnight, Hardy Barnhart came to Telltale, Nevada.
Hardy didn’t want to travel The Long Road Home east after a taste of the west. Afterall, there was Treasure in the(m thar)Hills. (Not to mention lice, bed bugs, and snakes). Showers were as common as Castles in the Air, which meant A New Joy for those downwind, which suited Hardy just fine.
But what Hardy wanted most was a woman. Not just any woman, but a Whoa-MAN. If The Dress Fits the woman, he wasn’t interested. Hardy figured a whale was a lot more to love on than a scrawny skeleton.
As he was walking through the town of Telltale, a big, robust woman with dark chocolate skin came stomping out of the Quills & Promises General Store hauling herself a handful of man. Two handfuls, actually. She’d latched onto the collar of his shirt with one hand and the seat of his jeans with the other.
“You no good, varmint,” she growled.
Making quick work of the steps, the woman hefted the man into the nearest water trough and held him down a minute before pulling his head up by the hair. The sight made Hardy’s scalp hurt something fierce.
“I told you don’t you ever set your boots on my boardwalk drunker than a mule-kicked man.” She plunged him back down in the water. Hardy crept closer. Bubbles were rising to the surface.
She pulled him up again. “You feeling me, Cooter Bain?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Now you’ll get yourself home to your wife and act like a man instead of A Captain’s Wife By The Beckoning Sea.”
She set him down and the man skittered backward, fell, and crab walked away, his eyes full of terror.
Hardy’s smile got real big. The woman stood on the boardwalk, arms crossed, eyes glaring at Cooter. Out of the Blue A New Joy rose in Hardy’s breast. He took a step closer and pulled off his hat.
“You’re a mighty fine-looking woman, ma’am.”
She speared him with her eyes. Hardy grinned, flashing his gold-covered tooth, the only gold he’d kept hold of after panning for days in the mountains above Telltale.
The woman’s face lost the angry expression. “You nothing but a bag of bones, boy.”
“No, ma’am. I’m nothing but A Reckless Rogue searching for me a woman to love on.”
“You’re mighty cute. A mite scrawny, but cute. The name’s LaTisha, what’s yours?”
“Hardy. Hardy Barnhart.”
She nodded. “Why don’t you look for yourself a woman over at the Golden Nugget Saloon? Got some right pretty girls over there.”
“I want a woman of substance. One as round as a Carousel. Dreams of having someone cook up a storm fill my head.”
“Got me four babies, youngest is ten. Their daddy got himself killed by a drunk long time ago.”
That explained why she didn’t cotton to the drunks outside her store. But four young’uns?
“You hurry up and get yourself scrubbed up. Got some supper going. You thinking on getting yourself hitched, a woman’s going to want to be hugging herself a tree, not a sapling.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He flashed his gold tooth at her.
Her smile went huge and she laughed.
Hardy joined her, hauling himself up the step and standing even with her. He was six inches shorter than her, but she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. He felt Wild at Heart. Wild and mischievous. “Got yourself four babies, huh?”
“Four needing a daddy.” She ran her hand over his wooly head of hair. “Hm, I’m thinking you might do just fine. Just fine.”
He nodded. “And Baby Makes Five?”
She swatted him. “Don’t you get fresh with me. We’ll think on getting ourselves hitched first.” Her gaze swept over him, a glint in her eyes. “You eat, then we’ll talk marriage.”

CHickey said...

Hilarious!

Rachel Overton said...

JoAnne, you're just going to have to post all the entries here so we can read them all. This is fun!

Mary Connealy said...

Oops, I just re-read the instructions and see that we're supposed ot EMAIL THEM TO JOANNE.

Sorry, for being a bad example. And leading others in the way of dis-obedience.
I try ot use my natural, God given leadership powers for good, but today I've failed.

:(

Cara Putman said...

Y'all are hilarious!