This website uses cookies to monitor traffic and check for abuse. Learn more | Close
X
Get Daily Bargains in Your Inbox
 

Ways to Follow

Get daily bargain list


Twitter icon
Facebook icon
RSS icon

Search Site

Keywords

Book or Name

Search Features

Recent Newsletters

24/06/2019
19/06/2019
18/06/2019

Archive



Jacky Gray

Funny, Romantic YA Adventure
 

Drabbles

Jacky Gray Merits

7 top drabblist

Not-So-Funny Valentine

“Can you get the mail, dear?'

Claire trembled, preparing for mortification like every other year.

Wait a sec. Under the pile of brown envelopes, a slash of vibrant red peeked out.

She read the name.

Miss C Shelly.

It was for her!

She pulled out an outrageous pink card plastered with red hearts. Her eyes skimmed over the verse to the signature.

'Your Secret Admirer.' And a huge question mark.

For a precious moment, she allowed herself to imagine the boy who might have sent her first valentine.

A glance at the familiar handwriting confirmed the worst: her mother’s handiwork.


Australian or Japanese?

“High temperature or fever?'

“Yes.' He sneezed three times, ending with a coughing fit.

“Mmm. I’m going to assume your nose is running.'

“Yep. And my feet smell.'

A glare said she’d heard that joke a time or two. “Aches and pains?'

“All over. And I’m perpetually exhausted.'

She tapped some keys. “Anything else?'

“Apart from the runs, stomach cramps and projectile vomiting?'

She checked boxes, her face dark.

“Only kidding. About the last three.'

A frown as she unchecked, then pressed the green button on the diagnosis website.

“So, is it Australian or Japanese?'

“Neither. Just good old man-flu.'


Snow Day

“Yay, it's snowing!'

“Result!'

With bright eyes, they donned coats, hats and industrial-strength gloves. Giggling as their wellies crunched through virgin snow, they built their first snowman, a chubby fellow with a parsnip nose. What a day to be out of carrots.

He threw the first snowball. No casting against type there, then.

She matched him in aim, frequency and ferocity, and they were soon splattered in snow.

Time for the snow angels.

Teeth chattering, they raced home for mugs of hot chocolate.

“Do you think school will be open tomorrow?'

“Probably.'

“S’pose we’d better plan some lessons, then.'


Knights In Shining Armour

“Call when you get home, Mum.'

“Sure.'

She exited at junction 9 to avoid the M6, hoping 3.5 litres of water would fix the minor leak. Nope. This time, the clouds of steam accompanied a smoked-oil smell and every warning light known to man.

Two men helped push the car off the road.

Adam let her use the loo in the Ford dealers and provided free coffee.

Mike discovered the irreparable hose.

Bill towed the car home.

Five hours after leaving her daughter’s, she called in.

“We weren’t expecting you yet – a neighbour told us about the pile-up.'


Lighting Up The January Darkness

“I’m gonna take down the decorations in the dining room and hall.'

Here we go. The annual argument about on or before twelfth night. “Can’t it wait…'

“You can do the living room ones tomorrow on the 6th.'

Say what?

“You can leave the lights, as long as they’re not Christmassy.'

Aliens had replaced her husband.

The thought for the day mentioned that greenery could be left up until Lammas – or as some knew it, Imbolc. The world was embracing the Pagan tradition. She could keep her lights until February 1st without having her sanity challenged.

Thank the Gods.