Tag: MFRWHooks

Caged Birds Don’t Sing By Pat Garcia,

@pat_garcia @patgarcia.bsky.social @rrbc-org.bsky.social #women’sfiction #romancereader #writingjourney #amwriting #Contemporaryromance #MFRWBookHooks

Hello, Everyone,

I am still working on my Flash Fiction Anthology. I am cleaning up and editing some of the stories intensively before I send them to my editor, just in case you see any repeats. The snippet below is one I am editing before sending it to my editor.

For your information, we switched to Standard Time here in Europe on Sunday, October 26, 2025, and this kid was happy.

Wishing all of you a lovely rest of the week.

Shalom Shalom

CAGED BIRDS DON’T SING BY PAT GARCIA, OCTOBER 28, 2025

The clock ticked away the minutes, and Kathie Mae’s heartbeat quickened with every passing beat.
Soon, Caesar would be home. Her musing would have to stop in an hour, and she would have to drag her wandering mind from her past and concentrate on where she was in the present.  
She would have never thought that having everything money could buy meant her joy would be buried in the graveyard of depression.
Louisa, their maid, knocked softly on the living room door.
“Come in.”
“I don’t mean to disturb you, but I’ll be leaving soon. Is there anything else you want me to do?”
“No,” Kathie Mae said, giving her a hollow smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “What are you going to do this Sunday?”
“I’m going to do what I do here every Sunday,” Louisa said. “Clean my house.”
Kathie Mae grunted. She’d talked to Cesare about reducing Louisa’s days to three times a week. They didn’t need her. In fact, they didn’t need her two times a week, but he’d demanded she come every day except Sunday. He’d looked at her like she was a child and explained to her that when he returned home, he wanted to see an orderly, well-kept house without any clutter. That was when she’d begun to notice that well-kept meant everything, including her.

Please visit the other blog participants. You will find them engaging and our writing covers different aspects of Romance. Thank you.

https://patgarciaauthor.com/?p=9362

A STRANGE ENCOUNTER CHANGES 2 PEOPLE FOREVER BY Pat Garcia @patgarcia.bsky.social @pat_garcia @amwriting @rrbc-org.bsky.social #romancereader #writingjourney #MFRWHooks #BlogHP #FreePromo #Contemporaryromance #women’sfiction

Hello Everyone,
I returned from my sudden vacation with the necessity to work through the trauma of experiencing four deaths in three months. It’s something that I don’t wish on anyone. I’m back to what I love to do, now, and that is writing.

Continuing with my unreleased Flash Fiction Anthology, here is my first snippet from A STRANGE ENCOUNTER CHANGES TWO PEOPLE FOREVER.
Have a lovely day,

Shalom shalom

Giuseppe’s right ear moved upward. Robust laughter almost shattered his eardrum.

Could Christmas Eve bring him such a massive sweet gift? 

The laughter vibrated through his entire body, making him tremble. Putting down his pool stick, he walked to the dining area to see who had released the wavelength of the full-bodied laugh that caused his ear to move.

Giuseppe, (Sep), walked to the door that led out into the dining area. He noticed the table across the floor opposite him clothed in candlelight.  There he saw her.  Three women were sitting at a table listening intently to a dark, brown-skinned woman, caught up in whatever she was saying. Sep zoned in on her with his eyes. With his photographic memory, he took pictures, marking the small, chiseled nose and thick lips that stood out on her face.  Seized by the vocal vibrations of her voice, he wondered how the chubby-sized woman would react if he covered her lips with his mouth. Would she stare at him with fright in her eyes, thinking that he was some kind of monster or a freak whose face had been put together crookedly? 

https://patgarciaauthor.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=9259&action=edit

THE GARDEN By Pat Garcia

@patgarcia.bsky.social @pat_garcia @rrbc-bsky.social #MFRWHooks #amwriting #romancereaders

Hello, Everyone,

This is another snippet from my flash anthology that will be released in Winter 2026.

The Garden


After many years of not being there, she’d returned and discovered how quickly things deteriorate when not lovingly taken care of.

As she stood looking at the poverty that had befallen the once so beautiful, proud garden, she wanted to cry.

She regarded the rundown house; no longer the centerpiece of roses, carnations, lilies, and yellow daisies.

Oh, how noble houses fall.

“What are you thinking, Linda?”

“You see that tree?” she answered, not quite knowing where to begin. “I used to climb it.”

Jordan laughed, “And you’re still climbing trees.”

Chuckling along with him, she said, “Yes, at my age, I’m still climbing trees. So, we’re here.  What do you expect from me?”

Jordan was the one who had encouraged them to return here. He was her husband, lover, and friend for the last seven years. Even though much younger than she was, he was concerned about her well-being than she was. Her nightmares had forced him to convince her to come back and face the demons that terrorize me.

“I hope you’ll appreciate your wealthy upbringing and let go,” Jordan said.

She regarded the garden surrounding the house in which she was born.  They were so different, Jordan and her, yet in many ways they were like homogenous barks linked together.

“You’re fantasizing again. You’re not old enough to request that I appreciate my upbringing. You weren’t there.”

“No, I wasn’t, but I love you. That alone gives me the right to help you reconcile with your past and let go.”

“Look who’s talking?  The babe among us.”

“Yes, the babe by ten years and yet your husband.”

Shalom shalom

Pat Garcia

https://patgarciaauthor.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=8925&action=edit

GOODBYE UNTIL BY PAT GARCIA @pat_garcia @patgarcia.bsky.social @rrbc-org.bsky.social @amwriting #romancereader #writingjourney #MFRWBlogHooks #contemporaryromance #women’sfiction

Hello Everyone,
I am presenting the third story in my Flash Fiction anthology, which is written as a trilogy within a series. This is story one in the trilogy where I introduce Beno and Zelda.
I hope you enjoy meeting them.
Have a lovely day and take care.
Shalom shalom

GOODBYE UNTIL

Storms raged within Zelda.  Even though seven years had passed, her dichotomous relationship with Beno still reverberated in her gut.  In contrast to what she had once thought, the young man who had overwhelmed her with his confessions of love was still with her, woven like yarn not around her heart but inside of it.  The intensity of their love grew stronger with each passing year.

True, she’d always been a joyful, adventurous, youthful person, a hopeless optimist who loved unconditionally, but when she’d turn fifty-five, she had hidden these characteristics. Her friends had told her such traits didn’t become a woman of her age. Meeting Beno changed that. He unlocked the door to those traits and threw away the key. Now, they bubbled over everywhere.  

Zelda contemplated as she sat at the table in the back corner, facing the street. That’s what lovers do at Café Terrace, Beno had once told her.  They order coffee, or a latte, sweetened with a shot of whiskey or Cognac, and wait for their loved ones.

Zelda sipped her coffee and closed her eyes.   “Delicious,” she murmured and opened her eyes to look at the crowd and see if she could pick Beno out. She would know him anywhere. 

https://patgarciaauthor.com/?p=8864

THE VASE AT THE FLEA MARKET BY Pat Garcia @pat_garcia @patgarcia.bsky.social @MFRWbookhook @rrbc-org.bsky.social #women’sfiction @amwriting #romancebook #writingjourney #Contemporaryromance

Hello Everyone,
I am presenting the second story in my Flash Fiction anthology, which is written as a trilogy within a series. Three Flashes are connected as one story.
I hope you enjoy seeing Beno and Zelda again.
Have a lovely day and take care.
Shalom shalom

Pat Garcia

Zelda tossed from one side to the other in the king-size bed belonging to her and Beno. She made herself lie still and shaped herself into a spoon on her right side, staring at the chipped, brownish-red-toned vase standing on the end table where Beno always slept. As ugly as that vase was, it radiated the only hope she had that he wasn’t dead. Like a persistent gnawing in her spirit, the vessel fanned the flame in her that Beno was alive.

Since he’d slithered into their new home to surprise her on her birthday, she’d heard nothing else from him. He’d received a thirty-six-hour pass and hadn’t allowed her to ask any questions about how he got it. Instead, he’d rushed her out of their home and taken her to the flea market. There, he’d shown her what he’d discovered. His face lit up when he pointed to the chipped antique vase. Even though it was the ugliest vase Zelda had ever seen, Beno’s lips had kissed and caressed it while scrutinizing its damages as if it were a precious jewel.

She’d asked him why that vase. There were others so much prettier.

His head had slanted slightly toward her, and his eyes had locked her in place.

“Chipped, Zelda,” he’d said. “The vase’s disfigurements display its inner beauty and its strength. Don’t you think so?”

He’d purchased it for more than it was worth and handed it to her. “For your birthday, my sweet Zelda.”

They had returned home, and he’d taken it to their bedroom and placed it on the nightstand by his side of the bed. “Think of us every time you turn toward where I sleep and see the vase,” Beno had said, and he had taken her in his arms.

Afterward, exhausted from their lovemaking, she’d fallen asleep with her head lying on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

Beno snuck away just as he had come, suddenly. Since then, fresh purple and white orchids, accompanied by a single bloody red rose in the middle, have appeared on their doorsteps every two weeks, accompanied by a four-word text-“to fill the vase.”

https://patgarciaauthor.com/?p=8831

AN URBAN NIGHTMARE BY Pat Garcia @pat_garcia @patgarcia.bsky.social @amwriting @rrbc-org,bsky.social #writingjourney #romancereader #bloghop #MFRWbloghop

Hello, Everyone,

After an unfortunate loss in my family, I am back. I haven’t formatted my latest story yet because I didn’t take the time. But I have started on it.

Today, I am presenting a snippet from my upcoming anthology, which is scheduled for release in winter 2026.

I sincerely hope you enjoy it.

Shalom shalom,

Pat Garcia

Shrill screaming woke Zelda. She scooted nearer to Beno, thinking she was dreaming. Beno put his arm around her, bringing her closer, and she continued to sleep.
The shrieks came again, and this time, sobs accompanied them. Zelda raised herself to look over at the clock on Beno’s nightstand. What woman would be walking around at two-thirty in the morning, screaming and sobbing outside of their bedroom window? She immediately thought about the missing women from their urban neighborhood, and her heart sank.
“Not again,” she murmured. Six women had already disappeared without a trace. The police were helpless, and Zelda trembled in Beno’s arms. Was it happening again?
“Beno, wake up!” She whispered, frantically shaking his shoulder.
“What, My Sweet? Can’t you sleep?” Beno said, drowsily.
“I think I heard a woman screaming and sobbing outside by our bedroom window.”
Beno took a deep breath and opened his eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Now, come to your senses,” Zelda pleaded.
Beno released Zelda quickly and sprang out of bed. Three women, two teenage girls, and an eleven-year-old had vanished into thin air in their urban neighborhood over the past three weeks.
“Where did you hear the noise, Zelda?” Beno asked as he got dressed.
“From outside Marcus’s house, which faces our bedroom. There were horrible sounds of helplessness mixed with tears.”
“I’m going to take a look outside.”
“I’m going with you,” Zelda said, getting out of bed.
“No, you’ll stay here.”
“No, I won’t,” Zelda said and put on a knee-length Mou Mou dress that he’d bought her while on a mission in Hawaii.

https://patgarciaauthor.com/?p=8798

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
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