Writing Prompt Ninety-Seven


Guidelines:
Length: 800 words or less
Deadline: None
Submission: 
  • Submit via email to beauxcooper@gmail.com
  • Copy your story into the Message box:
    • Include:
      • "Writing Prompt #____"
      • Your return contact information marked with a "(P)" for private if applicable
      • Public contact information you would like me to reference if your piece should be selected for feature.
        • This can include your website or blog as well as your social media outlets: Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, etc.
        • Optional: A photo of you
      • Your story
        • Please copy and paste into the body of the message, however, if you have a special format design for your story (such as moments of centered or right alignment, size, etc.) attachments are accepted.
Award: My favorite submissions will be featured on beauxcooper.com as well as all BC's social media outlets with all links connecting back to your blog/social media/website/etc.

Writing Prompt Ninety-Six


Guidelines:
Length: 800 words or less
Deadline: None
Submission: 
  • Submit via email to beauxcooper@gmail.com
  • Copy your story into the Message box:
    • Include:
      • "Writing Prompt #____"
      • Your return contact information marked with a "(P)" for private if applicable
      • Public contact information you would like me to reference if your piece should be selected for feature.
        • This can include your website or blog as well as your social media outlets: Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, etc.
        • Optional: A photo of you
      • Your story
        • Please copy and paste into the body of the message, however, if you have a special format design for your story (such as moments of centered or right alignment, size, etc.) attachments are accepted.
Award: My favorite submissions will be featured on beauxcooper.com as well as all BC's social media outlets with all links connecting back to your blog/social media/website/etc.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Sometimes life doesn't exactly go the way you've planned. Sometimes the big white wedding with Prince Charming turns out to be a playful elopement in the middle of town. Sometimes the house you were going to settled down in turns into your starter home. Sometimes babies don't come and dreams have to change. And sometimes those dreams won't match Prince Charming's.

April 20, 2011 - Gilbert, Arizona
It's just life. Life is change and change happens. We can panic, cry out, dig our heals in and fight it, but change will always win. It's the rip tide of our life. Resist and you'll sink to the bottom and there remain; roll with it and you'll find yourself at the surface and everything alright, after all. Consistency has not been my life's motto, but rather it has chosen to test the limits of my ability to be proactive, calm, and logical. It has prepared me for balls from left field, sneak attacks, and every other cliche out there. So when this new change in my life came along, I was more ready for it now than I ever would have been before because everything I had experienced up to that moment of decision had eased me into this new life change: starting over.

Summer 2012 - Crater Lake, Oregon
In just under two weeks my husband and I will be transitioning into a long-distance relationship where the outcome is uncertain, but the motivations and goals are the same. We each need to live out our life's purpose and grow into the people were are meant to be. In an ideal situation, or what society would perceive as ideal, we would be able to do this side-by-side. But through deep introspection and long nights filled with conversation, and sometimes tears, we discovered that our ideal situation meant letting our paths part for a little while to see what we are capable of.

Summer 2014 - Torrington, Wyoming
For us, that means selling the house we just remodeled, our rental unit, and much of our excess furniture. It means me relocating to Laramie to finish my degrees in Geology while he lives in Portland, Oregon and works in Vancouver. It means giving up a good job that pays well and is fully benefited. It means starting my life over independent of my husband. It means fully learning who I am as a person and who he is independent of each other. It also means having a strong shoulder to lean on when I need it, a support system that loves me unconditionally, an ally against myself when the shadows of doubt creep in. It means changes are coming.

Four year anniversary; April 2015 - Laramie, Wyoming
Sometimes loving someone means silently watching their life grow into something amazing and realizing that you might not fit into that life anymore. It's ok, because your love of self will grow and become something so amazing that you'll feel safe in their discovery because you feel safe in your own. The love you have for someone will consistently change. It will grow or shrink, it will harden, it will expand. It will deepen overtime, if you're lucky, and teach you things about yourself and your capacity to be selfless. My marriage has taught me much... and I wouldn't change a thing.

Spring 2016 - Torrington, Wyoming

Writing Prompt Ninety-Five


Guidelines:
Length: 800 words or less
Deadline: None
Submission: 
  • Submit via email to beauxcooper@gmail.com
  • Copy your story into the Message box:
    • Include:
      • "Writing Prompt #____"
      • Your return contact information marked with a "(P)" for private if applicable
      • Public contact information you would like me to reference if your piece should be selected for feature.
        • This can include your website or blog as well as your social media outlets: Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, etc.
        • Optional: A photo of you
      • Your story
        • Please copy and paste into the body of the message, however, if you have a special format design for your story (such as moments of centered or right alignment, size, etc.) attachments are accepted.
Award: My favorite submissions will be featured on beauxcooper.com as well as all BC's social media outlets with all links connecting back to your blog/social media/website/etc.

- Dog Days of Summer -


Thunder clouds roll in
Off flat plains of a wild west
He takes sun bath naps.

Window Pains


Inspired by The Story of an Hour by Kate Chopin, 1894.
“Darling, Mr. Crawford and his family will be coming to dinner tomorrow. Frank and I have much to discuss over the railroad so I will need you to entertain Mrs. Crawford and their children…” Brently whipped the newspaper he was holding in an attempt to straighten out the pages, making them stand at attention and hiding his face.
“Tomorrow? I have my women’s meeting tomorrow, Brently. It’s the same every week. I cannot miss it.” Louise stood beside the breakfast table, coffee pot in hand, her beige apron protecting her floral print dress.
“Skip it. Why you need to attend a women’s meeting each week is beyond me. What do you meet about? Stitching and floral arrangements? It can wait. I need you here. I need your support. Is not your family more important than some meeting? Besides, seeing Nancy with the children will be good practice for you.” He turned a page.
Frustration bubbled beneath the cage of Louise’s chest. A cage she felt tightening around her with every breath. “No, dear husband…” she nearly choked on the words. “Stitching and floral arrangements are not on the agenda. We have a very prominent woman of science coming to speak to us about her research into something called radium. She’s traveled a very long way to meet with us.”
“A woman of science? Your time is better spent focusing on a woman of the home and Mrs. Crawford can help you with that. There’s the end of it.” He peeked over the newspaper. “We’ll be dining at our usual time.”
That was the end of it. She swallowed hard, poured a warming up of his coffee, and turned on her heels to return the pot to the sideboard. Each hand gripped the lace doily as she leaned over the table and stared out the window. Outside a mother dressed in the season’s finest fashion walked down the cement sidewalk along ahead of her son, a bouncing young boy, and his caretaker. The mother’s posture was erect, almost leaning forward, as she propelled the group on toward the park just one more block away. The Mallards lived on a corner lot which afforded them a large view of the square on one side of the house and the beginning of their neighborhood on the other. Her gardens were well manicured and the roses just beginning to bloom in their fullest glory. The roses had been his idea, something to occupy her time while they waited for children to come and do the same. Her eyes followed the mother and the nanny. They lowered when they met the boy. She was not entirely sure she even wanted children, but it was what was expected of her and so she must try and embrace the idea.
When she married into the Mallard family she knew the contract she had signed. Wealth and comfort in exchange for a well-managed home and children. Always this obligation lingered in the back of her mind. It had not been a hard decision to marry the handsome and charming Brently Mallard, in fact, it was the most logical decision she had ever made in her life. She knew from where she came and the light stock of her family’s breeding so she doubly knew the good fortune she had when she was born with a pleasing face, calming demeanor, and well-shaped figure. It was why he married her, for her presentation. Not for her mind or her dreams, though he met her at University, but her ability to stand firmly at his side as his loyal and beautiful wife. A showpiece like any other figurine on their parlor mantel. It was a gift, then, that her husband had turned out to be as gentle as he was wealthy and though ignorantly resistant to her aspirations as a human being, he treated her more kindly than any of the other husbands treated their wives, her friends.
The women’s group was a godsend, a refuge for the babbling thoughts which raged within her mind daily. A place to knock around ideas about a woman’s role in the world, her ability to enact change, her eventual rights recognized by Congress through Suffrage. It was all too much for her in the beginning, but after her first meeting she was hooked completely and actively sought out the presence of such forward thinking, brave women. Women who were free in spirit, though chained to their homes. Together, in their small community of thirteen, they had fundraised scholarships for future women to attend colleges reserved for men. Together, they had made small ripples in their city to change the dialogue of a woman’s worth. Small changes, but changes nonetheless. It gave her power and courage.
Oh, to be a woman such as the inspirational Miss Curie! A woman not caged by the confines of marriage or restricted by her gender. To explore the inner depths of her interests which on the surface were manly, but which’s depths spoke out to all humanity. It took months of planning to curate her visit to Louise’s women’s group as Louise, the project’s spearhead, well knew. And she was going to miss it entirely. She held a duty to her husband first, herself second… and one day to children who would usurp her second place status to the bottom of the line.
Her eyes cleared of the misty fog which had unwittingly rolled in. The mother, her son, and his nanny had progressed down the tree lined pathway, leaving her gazing out over barren streets.
“Anything worth noting out there?” His remark came across sarcastic, but kind.

“Nothing, dear. Dinner tomorrow. We’ll be ready for you at six.”

Wings of Mayhem


Up on my Kindle App is the newest novel by Murder Mystery author, Sue Coletta. I'm sneaking away on my lunch breaks and picking up where I left off the day before making sure I'm in well lit areas and only reading in the middle of the day. 

Why you ask?

Because Coletta has a knack for freaking me the hell out with her stories, that's why!

I'm only 22% of the way in and already I'm biting my nails and forgetting where I am in the real world... and today I had to stop reading at the worst of times - when our lead character hears creaking floor boards. Frick. Back to work it is...

I'm going to go out on a strong limb here and tell you to go ahead and add this one to your summer reading list, pronto! My full review will be coming soon, but I know, without a doubt, this novel will hold up to and surpass all of my expectations!

Wings of Mayhem is available in eBook format. Paperback is coming soon.

For more by Coletta, check out her debut novel, Marred, and click here for my review of that thrilling tale!


- Summer Storm -


Disturb not: her dreams.
Though the cracking of thunder
Unburdens the clouds.

- Brunch -


Cool breeze, cotton trees
White fluff scatters everywhere
Me? No allergies.

Spotlight: Darrah J. Perez




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Darrah J. Perez is an inspirational Native Poet and Author who writes through her Native American Ancestry. Her work touches many, known to bring chills and inspiration to all those who either read her books, hear her poetry, or attend one of her presentations. A poet of our time with a gift for everyone.

Follow Darrah on Facebook for updates on her latest poetry as well as everyday life.


Check out Darrah's books, It Never Happened and It Always Happens, available on Amazon!

Contact Darrah at: darrah.perez@gmail.com

Please respect the copyrights of Darrah and Beaux by linking back to this original post and giving credit where it is due, to the author.

Flirty Thirty - Looking Back

That's it. I've finally crossed over into the big 3-0 and I'm not even worried. Growing older is a gift denied to many and so I promise to always remember how each year molds me into the person I am meant to be. The last ten years have been filled with activity, change, heartbreak, and rebuilding.... there's been so much I didn't even realize until I took a moment to stop and reflect.

This is me:

In my twenties I:

Graduated with my Associates Degree - 27


Got a(nother) tattoo - 22


Joined a sorority - Omega Phi Alpha - 23


Lived in four states - 18-22; 22-25; 25-28; 28-present

Arizona

Oregon

Washington

Wyoming

Bought three houses - 25, 28



Wrote and published a novel - 29


Went white water rafting twice - 26, 29

Deschutes River - Oregon

Wind River Canyon - Wyoming

Traveled internationally - 20
Got married - 25

April 20, 2011 - Gilbert, Arizona

Pierced my ears (second holes) - 29


Cut off all my hair - 20, 28
Became a Certified Yoga Instructor - 25


Learned how to throw clay - 27
Survived a tornado - 28



I have worked as a:

Pre-school teacher - Washington, Arizona
Family Support Specialist - Arizona
PSMAPP Trainer - Arizona
Personal Assistant - Oregon
Stay at Home Wife - Oregon, Wyoming
Yoga Instructor - Oregon, Wyoming
Enrollment Services Clerk, then Assistant - Oregon
Writer/Author - Wyoming
Office Associate - Wyoming

I have lived and traveled to:

(Purple - Lived/ Yellow - Visit)



I have met some of the most amazing women - dissolved toxic friendships and rekindled lifelong relationships. I have learned how to love in so many facets I would have never known existed if it weren't for the amazing, inspiring ladies who have come into my life over the last ten years. Those who encourage me to pursue my wildest dreams, bring me to tears laughing, and share in my most intimate insecurities. These friendships have turned into family and though we are often so far away, I know that the love and security of their guidance will always be there!

Courtney and DeAnna

Adrienne
Callie

Keri

In my twenties I have grown my family, built a stronger relationship with my dad, and learned how best to serve the friendship I have with my mom. Four furbabies have entered my life and made it all the more filled with unconditional love. I don't like to play favorites, but who am I kidding? Izzie is my SoulMutt if ever one existed. Her companionship has been and continues to be a security blanket in my life. 

Izzie

Ada

Bubba

Murphy

Yes, I know I've mentioned my dog before my husband, but I'm pretty sure that doesn't surprise him at all seeing as one of the first things he learned was that he would go before she does. I won't lie and say that being married has been a walk in the park, but together we have struggled through pain and fear, disappointment and bitterness to grow stronger as a partnership and individuals. He helped me overcome our inability to conceive, to dream up new dreams, to explore freely the person I want to be. His support and depth of love has taught me more about myself than any experience I've ever had and for that, for whatever little or great time we might have together in this lifetime, I am grateful for having met, loved, and grown with him.


My longest friendship keeps pushing forward. Sierra and I have been friends since the sixth grade and have grown in so many ways together and apart. She's the backbone of my history, one of the very few constants in a life of change. In just one more year, our friendship will be old enough to legally drink!

Sierra's wedding - the before party - toasts and I love you's!

I have had an amazing life so far. Though pock-marked with painful moments, I have learned to seek the light and learn from the dark. In the last ten years I have lost and found myself multiple times. I have forgotten the spark which fires my passion and rediscovered it over and over again. I've learned how to love fully, forgive, and explore within and without my spirit.

Today I'm tipping my hat to the years which have built me and raising a glass to the next ten ahead!


Free Kindle WINNER ANNOUNCED!

Congratulations to Shannon Covey for winning a brand new Kindle Fire in last month's review contest!

Thank you to all who submitted their reviews and who have read Dust! See you next time!


- Walking Shoes -


The show is over
Folks, it's time to go home now,
We'll see you next year!

- Playing Catch Up -


Old friends reunite
Over grapefruit mint juleps
Laughter ringing out!

Communication


"You have a lot of nerve, kid." I couldn't be certain, but that puff of air half resembled a laugh.

He sat hunched over, a repugnant smirk on his face as I watched him from across the steel table watching the guard pacing in the corner. All the glory I knew in him was stripped down from fur collars and patent shoes to a white and black striped jump suit and a number for a name. He scanned the room before his glance returned to me. His hand rubbed his chest above his heart where the bullet that sent him to the soggy boards of the dock once held a temporary home.

"Should it surprise you very much?" I lit a cigarette and blew a wispy stream of smoke up and away from the table.

"You're your father's daughter, I tell you that much, kid. You wear your fox lined gloves and white woolen coat into this filthy place like the dirt can't touch ya. Nevermind the reason you're here and, for that matter, the reason I'm here." He chuckled, hands resting on the table top face down. The guards want to see his hands, they want to see mine. I can feel their eyes watching us, roving over my pin curled hair, my chiffon, my ankles. "You're a class act, you, wearing the clothes that were paid for by what put me in this place, my new gray palace."

"I have a conscience, papa, but that'll never trump a girl's sense of fashion." I smiled. "Why'd you bring me out here all this way? I've got stories to write, a mess to clean up, and a reputation to preserve. Plus, the damp isn't good for my complexion."

"I needed to see something beautiful. I'm surrounded by these ugly mugs," he gestured over his shoulder to the other men in the room, "and it's driving me insane. You tell your mother yet?"

"She reads the paper, pops. She knows. Who do you think's living in your house downtown? She moved in the day your trial closed. Says you owe it to her.."

He grumbled out a laugh and smacked the table top with the open palm of his hand. "Ha! That woman, she's probably right. The guts in that one. I never should have left her, you know that?"

"Yeah, papa, I know."

"Still, it don't sting as much as it would have. You don't strike me as the Temperance type. None of that holy roller, save the family stuff was ever in you."

"You're right, I'm not. Never was and won't be. The drink might be poison, but it's a man's right to kill himself with it if he wants to..."

"Then why the hell am I here, Frankie?" His eyes bulged out, his lips clasped tightly together.

"A man has the right, pops, but the law, albeit wrong, must always win otherwise we all go down. Give it time, the law will change. The people won't stand for it."

"Christ, Frankie. You're an optimist. My guys hassling ya?" He leaned back.

"A few broken windows to put on a good show, but nothing lately. Theo's taken over, so I hear. I can't finger him yet, but I'm working on it."

A bell rang above us and the other women let out a harmonious sigh. I stood to leave and with me he too rose. A tasteful hug, the loving embrace between a father and his traitorous daughter. "Don't worry about it, kid, we're square."

Outside the gates, in the freshest air Chicago can muster, a cab was waiting to take me back to my newly minted office at the Tribune. I lit a fresh cigarette, got into the car, and draped the fur blanket across my lap. Fall had broken into winter overnight and the drive uptown was long. The weight of the blanket pushed something sharp into my hip.

There, inside my coat pocket, a letter addressed to Theo in my father's scrawl.

Bastard.

Writing Prompt Ninety-Four


Guidelines:
Length: 800 words or less
Deadline: None
Submission: 
  • Submit via email to beauxcooper@gmail.com
  • Copy your story into the Message box:
    • Include:
      • "Writing Prompt #____"
      • Your return contact information marked with a "(P)" for private if applicable
      • Public contact information you would like me to reference if your piece should be selected for feature.
        • This can include your website or blog as well as your social media outlets: Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, etc.
        • Optional: A photo of you
      • Your story
        • Please copy and paste into the body of the message, however, if you have a special format design for your story (such as moments of centered or right alignment, size, etc.) attachments are accepted.
Award: My favorite submissions will be featured on beauxcooper.com as well as all BC's social media outlets with all links connecting back to your blog/social media/website/etc.