I'm not sure how often I'll do this, but I'm starting a "Wednesday Work-in-Progress" feature. It will essentially be an excerpt from whatever upcoming novel I feel like giving a sneak peek at. This week, it's from my steampunk fiction:
---- Story excerpt begins ----
Merritt greedily chewed into the roasted mutton shank and savored the erupting flavors of the marinated spices. She closed her eyes and her nose inhaled the aromas of meat, steamed vegetables and fresh buttered rolls. At the same time, she was invigorated by the sounds of live acoustic guitar strumming and a woman’s voice, the duet performing on stage a dozen feet from her table.
“Eleanor’s” was a relatively new restaurant that seated sixty people comfortably. Specializing in local comfort food, they served a variety of roasted meats, either by themselves or in hearty stews or casseroles. They also employed a baker whose pastries, cakes and other desserts were fast becoming legendary in town. The addition of live music on a few evenings each week made for an even more inviting atmosphere. Large windows in the front allowed a pleasant view of the street and there was a small patio in the back for outdoor dining. The staff were overworked but always friendly and accommodating.
“Take it slow with the food and enjoy it,” Abe cautioned. “Who knows when we’ll have enough to stop in here again.”
“Someday, I want to make enough to eat like this every day!” Merritt said dreamily. “This is wonderful!”
She took another heaping bite from the shank and relished the taste, following with some spinach. If food could intoxicate, she was already drunk.
“You wanna get nice and plump like them Upper ladies, huh?” Abe said, referring to the upper class.
Merritt grinned. “If I could have meals like this, it’d be worth it!”
“Well then, you just gotta offer something no one else does,” he said, reflecting her smile. “You’d be an Upper overnight!”
She leaned her head back to consume about half of the water in her mug. When she put it back on the table, there was a new gleam in her eyes.
“Want to design a new type of airship with me?” she leaned forward and whispered to Abe. “That could be different!”
He leaned back in surprise, his eyes slightly widening. “What -- what kind of new airship?”
---- Story excerpt ends ----
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About the author
Allen Steadham is a nondenominational Christian, happily interracially married since 1995. Father of two sons and a daughter. He and his wife have been in the same Christian band since 1997. He plays electric bass, she plays strings, they both sing. It's all good.