Category: Blog Post

THE RED WHEELBARROW BY Pat Garcia

@patgarcia.bsky.social @pat_garcia @rrbc-0rg.bsky.social #women’sfiction #romancereader #writingjourney #amwriting #romancebooks #contemporaryromance #mfrwbookhooks

Hello, Everyone,

Today, I continue working on the Flash Fiction Anthology, which is scheduled for release in winter 2026. I have been privileged to participate in Flash Fiction contests over the years. I love Flash Fiction. I have learned a great deal about the Flash Fiction and short stories Genre from reading the works of Eudora Welty, Joyce Carol Oates, and the late Canadian writer Alice Munro. 

This is a snippet I wrote for The WEP, a writing organization founded by Denise Covey. I learned a lot from all the writers who participated in the contests. I hope you enjoy the snippet. 

Shalom shalom

Pat Garcia

 

EXCERPT:

Netta scrutinized the red wheelbarrow placed before the floor-to-ceiling window of the living room.

That wheelbarrow isn’t just attractive, but it’s a downright elixir for the soul.

She stood between the doorframe of the door, across the hall from the living room, admiring and examining the object of her curiosity. It stood so majestically before the window, in its bright red color, as if it were giving a queenly audience. She could have sworn the thing was smiling at her.  

Her husband, Jonathan, had turned it into a flower bed. He had chosen the living room to place it in, stating that he could admire his handy work when he returned home every evening.   

Netta shook her head. In the sunlight, the red wheelbarrow seemed to wink, but a wheelbarrow couldn’t wink, or could it?

She’d met Jonathan at her favorite Italian restaurant. She’d been sitting at a corner table with a big plate of spaghetti and a mozzarella and tomato salad. She’d just happened to look toward the entrance door of the restaurant and had gazed directly into the saddest but prettiest green eyes she’d ever seen. He’d stared back at her and then walked to her table and asked if she minded him sitting with her. Her mouth had been full of spaghetti, and the only way she could answer him without spilling the food out of her mouth had been to nod in acceptance.

Jonathan had ordered his meal after introducing himself and then began asking her questions, which made her hesitant to answer. When he’d asked her about her marital status, her eyebrows had furrowed, and her heartbeat had quickened. She’d not been so sure that it had been a good idea to let him sit at her table. Then, Jonathan assured her that he posed no danger to her. He was looking for someone to share his home with. He’d said he wanted the comfort of knowing that a trustworthy person was living with him. He needed a wife but not one to share his bed. Just a faithful wife to be there. He’d insisted on putting that clausal in their marriage agreement.  

At first, Netta didn’t believe or trust him. She thought he was some ax murderer or a cannibal who wanted to kill and eat her. Her vivid imagination had her packed away in plastic freezer bags in small portions in his freezer. With her chubby size thighs, big arms, and breasts, she was pretty sure Jonathan would have had enough meat for a year.

Netta didn’t understand why a man from out of nowhere was asking her, a stranger, to marry him. What she did know was that she said yes.

https://patgarciaauthor.com/?p=8598

The Flood That NO One Thought Would Come by Pat Garcia

@patgarcia.bsky.social @pat_garcia @rrbc-org.bsky.social @amwriting #romancebooks #readersfavorite

Hello, Everyone,

Here is a new snippet from my Anthology of Flash Fiction Stories that will be released in winter.

Wishing all of you a lovely day.

EXCERPT:

The man worked hard. He and his three sons hammered and pitched each wooden plank together. Sure, people thought he was crazy, but that didn’t disturb him. He closed his ears to what others said. If he were honest, and he was, he didn’t give a hoot. He hadn’t made it so far in life by seeking the approval of others.


The other day, his sons had informed him that the neighbors thought he was insane. He had laughed and told his sons to get to work before he fired them. After all, he was not only their father but their employer. No one would give them the amount of money for the work they did for him. They had no choice.
The father gazed down at the oldest son. The son looked up at the sun. The old man thought about the discussion they had had the night before. His sons thought he was a daydreamer and had invited a lawyer to his house without his permission. Their excuse for not telling him had him laughing. They wanted to rattle his brain.


After talking with him, the lawyer said that declaring their father insane wouldn’t work. Besides, the majority of the judges knew him too well as that no-nonsense man who spoke what he thought.
The sons’ wives were outraged, shouting they had become the laughingstock of the whole town, maybe the whole world. They were sick and tired of people pointing fingers at them. So, what, the old man said. They had tried to explain what it meant to them not to be among the popular crowd. They considered these people their friends.

Come to my house for tea; my wife would enjoy your company, he’d answered back.

Shalom shalom

Pat Garcia

https://patgarciaauthor.com/?p=8560

Boteè and The Strain Man By Pat Garcia

@patgarcia.bsky.social @pat_garcia @rrbc-org.bsky.social @4rwisawriters@bsky-social #women’sfiction #romancereader #writingjourney #amwriting #mfrwbooks

Hello, Everyone,
My Snippet for today continues with a second excerpt from Boteè and The Strain Man.

Hello, Everyone,

My Snippet for today continues with a second excerpt from Boteè and The Strain Man. 

EXCERPT

Boteè and the Strain Man

Strain Man played the first trio, and the spotlight appeared, covering her with light from her head to her feet. The music lifted her body, lying it flat as if she lay on a cot. The music raised her from the ground and lulled her into a trance. She looked up at the sky as he transported her with the musical notes he played. It was peaceful, and she began to snore. Strain Man moved into the second trio to wake her. The light over her head brightened, and she felt like she was lying on clouds of sheet music.

Suddenly, she lay before Strain Man. He bowed his head towards her. His cone-shaped head shone, and his metallic clothing looked absolutely chic. 

Strange, she thought, looking at him, there are no stars in heaven.

Strain Main replied with the third trio movement of The Stars and Stripes Forever. It was the only song he knew from her planet to communicate with her. “They’ll come. They’re just over the horizon.”

Boteè’s dark contralto answer made his face shine, “Amen, Amen, Amen.” She sang.

——-

Have a lovely rest of the week.

Shalom shalom

Pat Garcia

https://patgarciaauthor.com/?p=8519

Boteè and The Strain Man By Pat Garcia @patgarcia.bsky.social @pat_garcia @rrbc-org.bsky.social #women’sfiction #romancereader #writingjourney @amwriting #romancebooks #contemporaryromance

EXCERPT

Boteè and The Strain Man 

The Stars and Stripes Forever’s first impatient blast sounded. Boteè jumped off her sofa. She got her jacket and grabbed her tiny case. Then she departed her third-floor apartment. She left a note for her best girlfriend, Peggy,

On the road with my friend. 

Don’t know how long, but I’ll be back whenever my friend brings me back to earth. 

Boteè called him the Strain Man. His shiny metallic skin tone, high cheekbones, and pointed fingers had drawn her to him. He was different from the people on earth, and she liked that about him. She danced down the steps of her apartment building, not wanting to keep him waiting. He promised to take her beyond the clouds to see another part of the universe.

Excited at the opportunity to see him again, Boteè stepped outside. She closed her eyes and hit the Deep C with her contralto voice. It was two octaves down from Middle C of the primary scale. She sang Amen note by note while holding her breath. As she slid up the scale, she accented the rise in a syncopated rhythm until she reached Middle C. She stopped, took a deep breath, and waited for his response.

At their secret spot, Strain Man was surrounded by trees hiding the white, invisible lights of his futuristic jet. He raised the trumpet to his lips and blew the first notes of The Stars and Stripes Forever. He felt the tug of his notes lifting her off the ground to bring her to him. He smiled. 

Have a lovely day.

Shalom shalom

Pat Garcia

https://patgarciaauthor.com/?p=8474

Discover The Power of Touch: Book Trailer Released

@patgarcia.bsky.social @pat_garcia @amwriting @rrbc-org.bsky.social #women’sfiction #romancereader #romancebooks #contemporaryromance #readersfavorite #booklover

HELLO, EVERYONE,

THIS IS A SHOUT-OUT FOR MY BOOK TRAILER: THE POWER OF TOUCH!

I believe in giving credit where credit is due. 4WILLS PUB has done an outstanding job developing the Book Trailer for THE POWER OF TOUCH!

To say it is magnificent is an understatement. Read the book and you’ll see what I mean.

I hope you enjoy the book and the book trailer as much as I do.

Have a lovely day,

Shalom shalom,

Pat Garcia

Available in all Amazon Stores as a Paperback or an ebook.

LABEL. ME. MAN. By Pat Garcia

@pat_garcia @patgarcia.bsky.social @rrbc-org.bsky.social #women’sfiction #RomanceReader @amwriting #readerfavorite #contemporaryromance

Hello, Everyone,

Here is another snippet from LABEL. ME. MAN, a work in progress that will be available for pre-order in June 2025.

Cover by 4WILLS

Blurb:

Born a savant with Autism Spectrum Disorders and labeled as unusually bright, Gioacchino Tarinni lacked any social, emotional, or spiritual graces. The scientific world labeled him a Robot. Peddled between medical offices and laboratories, doctors and scientists examined whether he could be considered human. He has failed in every experiment except for his friendship with his manservant and chauffeur, Ferro. But no one knows how it happened.
Sitting in a cafe with Ferro, Gioacchino’s eyes are drawn to a woman working on her tablet. She has a head full of braids, and he attempts to count them. But the woman keeps moving her head, foiling his efforts to get an accurate count. Annoyed, he approaches her table, intending to ask her to be still. However, in a moment of impulsive audacity, he proposes marriage instead.

EXCERPT

Gioacchino took the stairs slowly to their bedroom as he pondered why she’d gone to his office. He entered their bedroom quietly. Even though he’d agreed to her returning home, he didn’t understand why. Her early morning escape from their home had cost him his ability to concentrate on his negotiations. After receiving the text message from Ferro that Jediah had disappeared somewhere in the house, he rescheduled the talks for the next day and gave Ferro strict instructions to keep his eyes open.

The door that led out to the spacious balcony adjoining their bedroom stood open. The venetian blinds were hanging loosely down, with the panels slightly opened, letting through rays of sunlight.

Gioacchino grinned to himself. Jediah’s clothing lay scattered in a pattern on the floor. He picked them up as he reached them, piece by piece, and headed to the closet to hang them up.

Your disorderliness coincides very well with my need to organise and order things.

He looked at the motionless figure lying on her stomach in their bed, and his eyes widened in shock.

He blinked to ensure he was seeing correctly. A series of numbers shaped into a curvaceous body lay on their bed. Until today, he’d seen Jediah as scrap pieces of brown, velvety cloth he couldn’t put together. It astounded him that the outer layer of her skin was comprised of integers.

He stared at the bed, expecting the numbers to disappear; instead, two large, marbled threes looked back at him and laughed silently.

Discombobulated, Gioacchino turned to the closet to dispose of her clothing, shaken by what he saw. He had long calculated the function of picking her clothes up every day, and getting to the closet, variable a, to getting to variable b, which was landing in their bed at night to create order among the velvety brown pieces he assumed were who she was.

“You’re home. No one told me you’d be home early,” Jediah said, not moving.

“I couldn’t think in the office,” he answered, putting her dress on a hanger.

“Why not? I told you I wouldn’t run away again.”

“How are you?” Gio asked, ignoring her response and asking a question of his own.

“Fine. Are you all right?”

“I’m okay.”

“Just okay?”

“At the moment, just okay,” he repeated, turning toward her, frowning, hoping the numbers hadn’t disappeared.

“Something happened after you brought me home and returned to work.”

“What?”  She was still a cluster of numbers but had now transformed into a curvaceous one stretched out on the bed, and that stirred his libido.

“I went to write in your office and didn’t think to tell Ferro. I was so happy to find a hiding place where I could write without people watching me that I didn’t think about telling him or anyone else where I was,” Jediah said, gazing at him. “I didn’t mean to upset you after what I experienced with you in the car on the way home this morning. Does that make sense to you?”

“So it wasn’t intentional?”

“No, although I’m sure Ferro thinks it was.”

The frown on Gioacchino’s face faded. The harshness in his voice vanished, and he addressed her softly in a soft, deep whisper.

“Stop worrying. Ferro told me he didn’t think you meant to cause a furore. But he was concerned because no one knew where you were.”

“So you’ve already heard?”

***

https://patgarciaauthor.com/?p=8314

Shalom shalom

Pat Garcia

LABEL. ME. MAN By Pat Garcia

@pat_garcia @patgarcia.bsky.social #writingjourney @amwriting @rrbc-org.bsky.social #romancereader #Bloghop

Hello, Everyone,

This is another snippet from LABEL. ME. MAN., which will be available for preorder on June 1, 2025.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I do, revealing the characters.

Blurb:

Born a savant with Autism Spectrum Disorders and labeled as unusually bright, Gioacchino Tarinni lacked any social, emotional, or spiritual graces. The scientific world labeled him a Robot. Peddled between medical offices and laboratories, doctors and scientists examined whether he could be considered human. He has failed in every experiment except for his friendship with his manservant and chauffeur, Ferro. But no one knows how it happened.
Sitting in a cafe with Ferro, Gioacchino’s eyes are drawn to a woman working on her tablet. She has a head full of braids, and he attempts to count them. But the woman keeps moving her head, foiling his efforts to get an accurate count. Annoyed, he approaches her table, intending to ask her to be still. However, in a moment of impulsive audacity, he proposes marriage instead.

Excerpt:

Gioacchino waited until they had stepped outside into the morning air to look sideways at her again. Her brown lips looked like a sweet treat. He liked covering her full lips with his own and tasting them. Precious and priceless, her plump lips awakened his manhood and gave his life meaning and normalcy.
Having never dated an African American woman, Gio found Jediah, with her full lips, curvy hips, and big breasts with pointed nipples, fascinating from the first time he saw her sitting in the café. Even though his mathematical intelligence and photographic memory had catapulted him to become one of the top five major players in mergers and acquisitions for hotels, it was nothing compared to his first meeting with Jediah. With her, he was human and not a robot. He felt genuine compassion, and more naturally than ever, his blood pressure sank to normal; he could interact with Kay, his secretary, and his migraines vanished. The medical specialist in charge of tracking his developmental changes was astonished.
Only yesterday evening, he had wished to tell Jediah how making love to her caused his blood pressure problem to vanish and helped him to deal with the torturous beliefs that he was some spectacular idiot savant or robot that was born on the earth once in a million years, but she had fallen asleep after their lovemaking.

Shalom shalom

Pat Garcia

https://patgarciaauthor.com/2025/04/23/label-me-man-by-pat-garcia-3/

LABEL. ME. MAN By Pat Garcia

@pat_garcia @patgarcia.bsky.social #writingjourney @amwriting

@rrbc-org.bsky social #romncereader #Bloghop Tweets4rwisa.bsky.social #contemporaryromance #reading #books

Hello, Everyone,

I have two new releases coming up. The first one is on June 1, 2025, and I will be sharing some snippets from LABEL. ME. MAN, which is the first book. The second book is a series, and I will share more about it later.

Have a lovely Easter and be safe during the holiday.

Shalom shalom

Pat Garcia

Cover: 4WILLS Publishing Co

Born a savant with Autism Spectrum Disorders and labeled as unusually bright, Gioacchino Tarinni lacked any social, emotional, or spiritual graces. The scientific world labeled him a Robot. Peddled between medical offices and laboratories, doctors and scientists examined whether he could be considered human. He has failed in every experiment except for his friendship with his manservant and chauffeur, Ferro. But no one knows how it happened.
Sitting in a cafe with Ferro, Gioacchino’s eyes are drawn to a woman working on her tablet. She has a head full of braids, and he attempts to count them. But the woman keeps moving her head, foiling his efforts to get an accurate count. Annoyed, he approaches her table, intending to ask her to be still. However, in a moment of impulsive audacity, he proposes marriage instead.

Excerpt:

“What I want is my freedom. I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
“Freedom from me,” Gioacchino said. “I don’t understand.”
“Gio, would you really understand if I broke it down for you? You sit there in your Eiffel Tower, observing me from somewhere in a world I’m not invited to enter, and I’m lost at how I can help you. You don’t respond to any of my initiatives. You hardly ever speak to me. You sit in your chair while I watch a movie, and then at seven o’clock, we go to the dining room to eat, then I go to bed, and you come in forty-five minutes later. Now you’re placing restrictions on when I can visit my girlfriend,” Jediah said. “I have enough problems dealing with my insecurities. Here I am, fifty years old, and I let myself be talked into entering a marriage with a contract of three years to a man seventeen years younger than I am and who is a savant, autistic, and brilliant, with zero skills. I wonder what will happen to me when these three years are over and you no longer want or desire me. I’ll really be a basket case. I have more than enough problems dealing with my idiosyncrasies, and now I’ve inherited yours.”
Gioacchino stopped her, put her carry-on luggage by his feet at his right side, and drew her close. Jediah’s outburst had flooded his mind. Somewhere in her tirade, he had shut her out. He lifted her chin so that he could look at her.
“Does my behavior scare you?”
“Yes. You hardly ever say more than three sentences to me. You just stare.”
“When I stare, I’m thinking about ways to love you and smiling at the pleasure I see in your eyes when I come to our bed. Don’t you understand I’m letting you rest during the day so I won’t tire you out at night? You’re mine, Jediah.”
“But you talk to Ferro,” Jediah said. “You even talk to your secretary, Kay.”
Gioacchino leaned, reached again for her carry-on, and picked up his pace, forcing her to walk faster.
“Only when I have to, I talk to Kay,” he replied. “Why are you scared and feel unsafe when I stare at you?”
“According to our contract, I’m supposed to teach you how to interact with people, and I only have three years to do that before you give me a divorce to release me. Your life is planned like the minute hand on a watch, but when it comes to me, you never have time for me to teach you what you need to know. What happens in three years when you decide I’ve failed? What am I supposed to do then? Just walk away empty-handed, like nothing happened?”
“Has it ever occurred to you that I take you to bed every night and make love to you, not to scare you but to give you the security you seek, Jediah? I won’t ever leave you. What I say, I do. Don’t run from me. Stay and find out that you can trust me.”
“Why?”
“Because running from me will make you miserable. Me too, even though I don’t know what misery feels like. But I won’t have peace of mind until I find you and bring you back,” Gioacchino growled.

https://patgarciaauthor.com/2025/04/16/label-me-man-by-pat-garcia-2/

THE SEVENTH CHANCE

@patgarcia.bsky.social #Romancebooks #contemporaryromance

@pat_garcia #amwriting@rrbc-org.bsky.social #MFRWBookHooks

Hello, Everyone,

I am continuing with a snippet from THE SEVENTH CHANCE.

Excerpt:

Amato moved himself closer to Bob-Ann and leaned toward the headboard.
“You haven’t answered my question, and I’m waiting for your answer.”
“What do you want to hear?”
“Tell me what’s on your heart right now.”
“I’m sorry for breaking the champagne glasses. I thought you were going to leave me.”
Amato gazed at Bob-Ann and shook his head. “I wish you would love me just as much as I love you. Then you would know for sure that I am not going to leave you. We’re in this forever thing, and I don’t plan on letting you go.

Take care.

Shalom shalom

Pat Garcia

https://patgarciaauthor.com/2025/04/02/the-seventh-chance-2/

THE SEVENTH CHANCE

@patgarcia.bsky.social @pat_garcia @RRBC-org.bsky.social #reading #contemporaryromance #romancebooks #books

Hello, Everyone,

Here is a small snippet from THE SEVENTH CHANCE that I revised because I wasn’t satisfied with it.

As Amato stood in the doorway to their bedroom, he imagined Bob-Ann’s conversation with Lila. She’d never learned how to love and accept herself. Taking off his shoes, he walked to the side of the bed and sat down on it.
Bob-Ann awoke at once.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Why are you here?” Bob-Ann asked, ignoring his question.
“Have you forgotten you’re my wife and we live here?”
“I thought…”
“You thought what?” Amato replied, interrupting her with a harsh tone in his voice.
“You’re angry.”

Have a lovely day.

Pat Garcia

Shalom shalom

https://patgarciaauthor.com/2025/03/26/the-seventh-chance/
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