Kate Warren

fiction with humor and heart

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Excerpt

WeWriWa - Feb 25, 2023

2/25/2023

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Hello everyone, and welcome to another Weekend Writing Warriors post. For details on the blog hop, and to visit more participating blogs, please click the image above to visit the WeWriWa site.

Last week Sir Nicholas came to Henry's rescue, after Henry was attacked by some of the area troublemakers. This week Sir Nicholas meets poor little Beth, Henry's little sister. 


     Nicholas was about to insist on going when he heard a commotion on the stairs along with a cough and a little girl with black hair and large green eyes stepped into the room.
     “Henry, you’re home early. Mother’s not back from the market yet.” The girl began coughing again.
     Her brother guided her to a chair well away from the fire and put a blanket over her lap. He patted her arm and said “There now, Bethie. I have brought someone to meet you. This is Sir Nicholas.”
     ‘Bethie’ looked up at her brother. “Who?”


That's the snippet, but I'll add a little bit below. Thanks for visiting.

Kate



     “The one who bought the chestnuts for us.” Henry said with a smile of mixed adoration and exasperation. He clearly loved his little sister, but just as clearly thought her the smallest bit stupid.
     “Oh!” the girl’s face lit up. “Thank you, sir!” After a moment she burst out “Henry, what happened to your eye? Mother won’t like it if you’ve been fighting.”
     Henry’s face fell.
     “Henry has not been fighting.” Nicholas said firmly.
     “Well, someone has,” Beth argued, “unless he ran into a lamp post.” She started coughing again.

     Between the growing bruise on the boy, and the unsettling cough from the girl, Nicholas was wondering what to do. He knew nothing about respiratory ills, but he did have some experience with blackened eyes. “Henry, would you show me to the kitchen?”
  




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WeWriWa - Feb 18, 2023

2/18/2023

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Welcome back for another fun weekend of blog hopping to read excerpts of fiction from various authors--perhaps your future favorite is among them. Click the image below to visit the Weekend Writing Warriors blog and get the full list, as well as guidelines for participation.
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Last week Nicholas found Henry scrambling in the snow after being attacked by three neighborhood boys.

     Kneeling, Nicholas helped the boy to pick up the pieces of his wares. The remains of six pencils, worth so little to most, but he suspected that the three pennies they represented meant the world to Henry. His brother was strong and intelligent and able to take care of himself. What else but the pencil selling could this poor boy do to feel of some use to his family?
     “I don’t understand.” Henry said as Nicholas helped him up. “I never did anything to them. Three whole pennies.” He said sorrowfully.
     It was more than Nicholas could stand to see the poor boy so defeated.

There is a bit more below, if you'd care to read on. Looking forward to reading everyone's snippets.

Kate


​
“Henry, I was hoping to buy some pencils from you. Would you let me have these? I’ll give you the full three pennies.”
     He could see the boy’s mind working, and confusion on his features. That bruise was beginning to look bad.
     “That doesn’t seem right, sir. They’re broken.”
    “I know, but, I think I have a use for broken pencils.” That wasn’t strictly true, but he was certain he could find something to do with them. And he very much wanted to make Henry feel a little better.
     “If you can use them…” Henry was thinking so hard, it was almost painful to watch him. “Alright. You can have them for three pennies.”
     “Thank you.” He took the pencil pieces and put them in his pocket, giving Henry his pennies in exchange. Now to get the boy safely off the streets. “With your wares all sold, I suppose you’ll be heading home. Do you live nearby?”
     Henry nodded, counting his pennies and then putting them in his pocket. “One block that way.” He pointed. “Mother doesn’t like me to go too far from home, in case she needs me.”

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WeWriWa - 02/11/23

2/11/2023

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Welcome back to KateWarrenLand for another exciting adventure in the sharing of snippets that is Weekend Writing Warriors! For more information and participation guidelines, please click the linked image below.
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Last week, Nicholas learned some of the rumored Shawley family history from Bixby the chestnut man. He also asked where he might find Henry selling his pencils. This week I'm skipping a few sentences to make for a more cohesive 10.


...Three boys came running and nearly knocked into [Nicholas]. One, a sturdy red-haired lad with a broad face and an uncanny number of freckles across it paused and looked at him for a moment before continuing to streak away.
     When he turned to see where the boys had been running from he saw a pathetic sight. He had found Henry Shawley, and the boy was scrabbling in the snow for something as tears poured down his reddened cheeks.
     “Might I be of some help?”
     Henry lifted his face. There was a bruise already starting near his left eye. “He hit me, sir. And they broke my pencils—the last ones I had.” His voice cracked and he wiped at his face, wincing as his hand brushed over the spreading bruise.


Poor Henry. This is the kind of thing his mother was afraid could happen. But unlike Mary, Nicholas is in a position to do something about it. He'll have to wait to run into those boys again, but there will be a reckoning of sorts.

Nothing extra this week except this picture of Nicholas. 
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Sir Nicholas Carroll

​Yes, part of his head is missing, but he'll be losing his head over Mary anyway, so it's fine. See you around the blogosphere, and thanks for visiting!

​Kate
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WeWriWa - Feb 5, 2023

2/5/2023

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It's another weekend, and another post of 8-10 sentences from my current WIP The Christmas Carrolls. For more information about how to participate in the Weekend Writing Warriors blog hop, please click the image below.
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Last week we met Mary Shawley, mother of Edmund, Henry, and Beth. This week Sir Nicholas has decided to seek out Bixby the chestnut man for more information about the boys.

    “Bixby, there you are!”
    “Did you miss me, Sir?” the chestnut seller grinned.
     Nichols could not help grinning back. “Not a bit of it, but I wondered if I might ask you about those boys who were minding the stall for you yesterday.”
     “The Shawley boys?” Bixby asked, his expression tinged with wariness. “Did they do something wrong? They’re good lads, but that Henry…well he’s a sweet boy but he isn’t all there above stairs. Fell out of a tree and landed on his head when he was a tyke or some such thing.”
     “I had noticed that Henry is…different, but no, there were no problems. 

That's my ten. More below, for those who are interested. I've come down with a cold and may not get to my visits until later in the day or tomorrow. I'm up now because I needed more medicine. Figured I'd get the post done before I fall asleep again.

Kate


"...I was rather impressed by them actually. The eldest, Edmund, is it? He seems quite industrious.”
     “He is that. Smart lad too. Shame his mum can’t afford to send him to school.” Bixby shook his head and filled a bag with the roasted nuts for another customer.
  “Yes, I see that the family must be in difficult circumstances,” Nicholas remarked, “but I think that has perhaps not always been the case.”
     The chestnut seller snorted. “I’ll say. The missus has taken an interest in them. Sad story. The little ‘un, Betty, or Betsy, is sick. Needs an operation. Course they can’t afford that neither. They were well-enough off in the country for a while. Don’t know all the details o’ course but there was some doings with an uncle who inherited the widow’s father’s estate…” Bixby looked around covertly and lowered his voice, “and it seems he made improper advances to the poor widow. Can’t blame her for running as fast as she could from that. She’s a good sort, Mary, my missus says.”
     “Mary,” Nicholas murmured.
     Bixby continued as if he hadn’t stopped talking. “We in the neighborhood, we do what we can to help, ‘specially with young Henry. Poor Mary can’t be everywhere at once, can she?”
     “Yes, about Henry. I understand he sells pencils.”
     “Aye.” Bixby nodded as he stirred the nuts to keep them roasting evenly. “Would you be wanting a bag today then, sir?”
     “I will. And could you possibly tell me where I might find Henry Shawley, seller of fine writing implements?”
     “Three blocks that way,” Bixby gestured with his head while filling the bag. “Charges ha’penny a piece. Mary insists that he not stray too far from home.”


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