Tuesday Tales Traipsing Through a Field

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! Welcome to Tuesday Tales. I introduce you to a new WIP I have going under my sweet pseudonym Allee Mae. It's the 3rd in my YA paranormal romance series the Critter Getters. This book is entitled Finding Love in a Black Lagoon. Our word prompt today is "field" and I have plenty I can say with this particular prompt.

Without further ado...please see my snippet with "field" as the prompt word.

Owen’s voice became uncharacteristically gruff. “I said I would be okay, I’m a grown man. Dammit, you aren’t my mother.”

Caleb stomped off. “Sure, you’re okay, don’t come griping to me when you get cancer or some radioactive sickness.” He yelled ahead to the girls. “Owen’s gonna stay here in the weeds and get ticks. He said never mind about him.”

The breeze settled through the brush and dipped low, providing relief from the heavy air. Pearl smiled at Owen and offered him a bottle of water. “Thirsty? Looks like you guys have been hiking for most of the day.”

He accepted the refreshment gratefully. “It’s been a busy morning.”

“Have you found anything suspicious out here? I mean, you are looking for something, I assume.”

“We are looking for evidence of paranormal activity.” Owen fiddled with a lace on his shoe. “I guess you’d say we investigate the sometimes unbelievable.”

“I’ve seen plenty in these woods.” A bead of sweat fell into a drop down Pearl’s temple. “But, I know how to handle myself.”

“You do…don’t you, Pearl? How is that? You are always alone, almost isolated…at least anytime I’ve seen you.”

“You can’t count on people to cut you a fair deal, I’ve had to make friends with nature. There’s nothing in these woods that would hurt me.”

Owen plucked a wild oat from in front of him. He chewed the end thoughtfully. “I want a chance to prove you wrong.”

“Prove me wrong? Excuse me Ghostbuster, but, I do believe I know this swamp better than you do and I don’t plan to get hurt just to see you point and giggle.”

Owen removed the thin weed from his mouth. “No, that’s not what I meant. I want a chance to prove you wrong about people, Pearl. I want to be your friend.”

“You don’t know me from Jack the Ripper. Why would you wanna be friends with a person like me?”
Owen shrugged and adjusted his ball cap. “You aren’t a serial killer type, you seem to have much in common with me and I would like to be one human you can count on.”

“Count on you for how long, Owen? A week maybe? How long are you here for?” She cocked her head and adopted a questioning look. “We become best friends for a week so you can leave me? That makes so much sense.”

The air became heavy again while the billows rolled in over the warming sun. The rustling of bamboo, vines, and fresh new spring leaves completed the scene. Pearl raised her face upward, taking in the scant rays peeking through cottony clouds. “I’m fine with being alone, Owen. Don’t ask me too many questions, and I’ll do the same for you. We can hang out and talk while you’re here. I’ll be a part of your little conditioning experiment.” Pearl then scowled. “But, don’t expect too much from me. It ain’t a field of daisies walking in my huaraches.”

 Please visit our main page for many other authors' varied takes on "field".
Tuesday Tales

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Jillian said…
loving this story. The banter is awesome!
SherryGLoag said…
Like Jillian, I'm loving this story, too.
Lindsay said…
I love how you painted the scene. I wonder what Owen is going to do.
S.E said…
I wonder if Owen would stay for Pearl or if he wants to take her with him. This is a relly good story.
Iris B said…
wow, intense and great dialogue!
Anonymous said…
The scene captures realistic interactions between the two. I want to know more about them, and what agendas they each have. Great job!
Tricia Andersen said…
I love Owen's heart and Pearl's dialogue. Great job!!
morgan said…
Pearl has such fire. How could Owen not fall for her? :)
Jean Joachim said…
I love her sassy defensiveness and his interest in her. This is an intriguing story. What are they going to find out there? Love this story.

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