I love April Fool's Day

Hi, I’m Sue Charnley author of the April Fools for Love Duet, The Catnapped Lover and Devil May Clare.  April Fool’s Day is a short two days away, and I can’t wait to celebrate.  No, I don’t play mean jokes on people (other than my characters that is—they’re fair game), I watch funny movies, read jokes on-line, and tickle my sweetheart which leads to other, well, uhm…fun stuff.  Below is an example from The Catnapped Lover, of how I can louse up a character’s life.  My heroine, Rue Clancy wasn’t at all happy when she found herself in what I saw as a darned funny situation. 

If you like what you read, here are purchase links for both of these books. The Catnapped Lover, Amazon, Devil May Clare, Amazon.

If you want more, you can read longer excerpts at The Catnapped Lover and Devil May Clare

Want swag?  Leave a comment and tell me what your ideal April Fool’s Day celebration is along with an e-mail address where you can be reached and I’ll contact you with details about where to send an SASE.  Sorry, you must have a US postal address. 

From Chatper One of The Catnapped Lover

   Balancing an armload of mail, an overloaded briefcase, and a gym bag with two yogurt cups teetering on top, Rue Clancy rushed to her cubicle. She prayed that her chauvinist boss hadn’t realized she was missing. For the fourth time this week and the umpteenth time this month, she was late. Once again a power outage in the decrepit apartment building where she lived had caused her alarm clock to fail. As a result, she’d gotten up late and still hadn’t caught up.

   The yogurt cups threatened to topple off the gym bag. Sending one hand to their rescue, Rue sacrificed her hold on the mail and the briefcase. She wasn’t about to let her lunch decorate the linoleum underfoot. The mail showered to the floor. The briefcase hit her foot. With her free hand she plastered the cups to her side. The gym bag slid down her arm. The webbed strap twisted tourniquet fashion around her wrist.

Rue managed a couple of sideways hops that brought her to the edge of her desk. The gym bag swung wildly. Leaning against the arm weighted down by the gym bag’s stranglehold she, managed to dump the yogurt cups onto the desk without mishap. She pulled herself upright and reached for the tightly twisted strap at her wrist.

   Somehow, during all the hopping, the bag had swung around her legs and gotten wedged in the narrow space between her desk and file cabinet. The same strap that cut off circulation to her hand pressed into the backs of her knees, pinning her neatly to the desk. Only an act of extreme dexterity could save her from her own folly. Imbecile, why didn’t you make two trips?  She scolded herself.  Because you didn’t want to risk having the boss see you coming in late, that’s why.

   “CLANCY! You’re late.” 
   Rue’s heart hit the ceiling. She knew the shout—a cross between an operatic tenor and a pig at slaughter—belonged to her boss. Still, she hadn’t been prepared to hear his screeching quite so soon.

   “What the hell are you doing with your coat still on at 10:00 in the morning? Do you know how many clients we have backed up in the lobby? They’re all waiting for you to get your lazy little behind to work on their ADC and Food Stamp applications.”

   “I’ll get right on it, sir.” Rue tugged at her imprisoned arm and wondered exactly how she was going to free herself. At the same time she prayed that her boss would remain blind to her obvious difficulties. The lecher would love an opportunity to put his hands on her while she was literally bound at hand and knees.

  “Good. Get those people cleared out of here by noon, then come to my office.”

  “Yes, sir.”

   Rue heard the man lumber on down the hallway, and she expelled a disgusted breath. If you hadn’t been so wrapped up in yourself, Rue, you would have heard him coming. Yeah, and if you had made two trips, you wouldn’t be wrapped up at all. So get yourself out and get to work.

   She leaned her weight against the strap where it crossed her thigh hoping to pull the bag free with her weight. What’s it going to take to loosen this stupid bag, a ten-ton truck? I know I’m a bit small, but this is ridiculous!

   She swung her hips with increased vigor against the webbing. She bounced. When I get out of this, I’m going to cut this bag up and feed it to the nearest garbage disposal.

   Praying that she didn’t slip a disk, Rue gave a mighty heave with her backside, throwing her entire body into breaking the webbed hold. Something gave.

   Rue flew across the tiny space, landing shoulder first against the opposite file cabinet. Her hair tumbled out of its neat chignon. Her shoulder ached. Her formerly numb hand tingled. She blew rust-colored curls out of her face and turned to survey the damage. 

   The webbed strap remained completely intact. The bag was a total loss. Make-up and hair care products littered the cubicle floor. One of her gym shoes had landed sole up on the file cabinet. Her sports bra and workout clothes lay in a heap framed by the shredded bag.

   “Unusual decorating choice, Rue. Too bad personal items are against regulations. You might have started a trend.” Carolyn DeWitt, Rue’s best friend and co-worker, leaned against the cubicle opening.

   “It’s nice to see you too, Carolyn.”