The 1st Year

Today Racheal’s Novels turns a year old!!!

I love you guys. You truly brightened my day with your likes and views.  These past twelve months are among the best I’ve ever had – my writing skills have improved so much (of course, that wouldn’t have happened without all of you, and my family). Thank you all so, so much!

It’s truly been a fun, enjoyable and memorable year.

Wonder what this second year will be like?

Here’s a story I wrote to celebrate this anniversary! Some of you will appear as characters in this story (please don’t be mad!).


Do I have everything?

Yes, I do.

I can’t wait! It’s amazing to think that I’ve been here a whole year. A smile appears on my face as I remember the day I moved in. Being very apprehensive, but excited, I threw myself into making a name for myself and a following. I was so pleased when people started reading my stuff. Didn’t know my stories were so good or entertaining and that people would want to read the stories that I wrote.

I’m so thankful that I had other people there, encouraging me to keep going.

Speaking of which…

I glance at the clock. Hell! I’m going to be late! I look in the hall mirror. Satisfied that I look stunning, I race out the front door and into my car. I quickly drive away, towards the party that’s being held to celebrate me making it to a year.

Arriving at Diane’s, I see floatinggold talking with a guy wearing a fedora. Sidling past them, I make my way over to the buffet table and my eyes are immediately taken with a bowl of chocolate eclairs. I take two and begin snacking on them. “Happy anniversary, Racheal.”

I look to my left to find the speaker and see someone placing two strawberry shortcakes on the table. She looks familiar. She’s…

Diane! What have you been up to?”

“Been trying to keep my husband away from the kitchen the past few days while I was cooking all this,” she comments. We laugh. Diane momentarily turns away to fix something on the table. Reaching my hand out, I take part of the icing and…


I cradle my sore hand and sigh as Diane moves both the shortcakes away from where I am. It was only a little pick.


“No picking, Racheal!” Diane scolds.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say meekly and, picking up some fruit, I look around as I eat and see a crowd of people gathering around somebody and they are all laughing their heads off. Intrigued, I head on over and see that it’s none other than Britchy, who is regaling the crowd with her latest shenanigans, which involved one of her grandchildren, a cat, and a catapult.

I burst out laughing and she catches sight of me. “Happy anniversary, my dear!”

“Thank you,” I chuckle as I go over to her. She is holding two glasses of wine and holds one out to me.

“Here. Have one,” she offers.

“What did you do to it?” I deadpan.

“What!? Nothing, for goodness sakes! Okay, then,” she sighs, “if you don’t believe me, here, take mine.” And she hands me hers.

I drink it.

Why, oh why, did I listen to Britchy!?

“What happened to you?”

Looking up, I find it’s John, who is looking at me with a concerned expression.

“I accepted a drink from Britchy.”

His expression quickly changes from concern, to amusement and disbelief, which really irks me. “You didn’t,” he says.

“Well, she looked innocent enough…” I trail off as I notice the look on his face. “Never mind.”

His mouth twitches and he bursts out laughing. I glare at him, which only makes him laugh more. “I would have expected more sympathy,” I mutter.

Finally managing to get a hold of himself, he sits down next to me. “Well, I would not have expected you to do that,” he remarks. Then he puts on a smug expression. “I most certainly wouldn’t do that.”

“Just get me another ice pack.”

John heads off to do that, laughing to himself all the while. I slouch in my seat. What a great day, I think, feeling grumpy.

He comes back and hands me an ice pack. “Thanks.”

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” John started. “About you and Britchy.”

I shoot him a baleful look.

“Due to your…state, would you like me to do something to Britchy as payback? For you.”

I grin. “Hell, yeah!” Then I frown. “But what could we do to prank the genius?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I have an idea,” he grins.

I watch as John heads off to find Britchy. He had set up everything. All that was needed was Britchy. I rub my hands with glee and then make sure my camera is on and ready to start filming.


I look up and soon spot Indiana heading over to John. Oh, come on, Indy! They start talking. I wonder what Indy’s saying? I hope Indiana finishes soon.

Wait, what!?

John and Indy are walking off, away from Britchy!

“I need you to come help me…” is all I hear Indiana say.

Oh, this is…hang on. Looking at Britchy, I see her look in Indiana’s and John’s direction and smirks knowingly. Is she aware of our plans?

Oh, I hope not.

A little bit later…

I step out of the toilet and wash my hands. As I’m drying them, I hear a knock on the door. “Anyone in there?”

“Just a minute, John!” I call back. Curiosity eats away at me. He sounds agitated. I hear an embarrassed ‘Oh’ when he hears my voice, like he was hoping that he wouldn’t run into me. Why?

I open the door and gasp.

“What happened…?”

Muttering something, John stormed past me and turned on both taps. Making sure it was a nice temperature, he put his head under the tap.

How did his hair get green? And what was the green stuff dripping down his face?

“What is that in your hair?”

“Green dye. Thankfully, NOT indelible,” he grunted as he furiously scrubbed his hair.

“Like ours?”

Is ours.”


“How’d it happen?” I ask as I lean against the wall.


I just manage to not snort with mirth. “Did she find out?”

“Her criminal partner – Indiana – overheard our conversation, and told her.” He raised his head and shook the water out, peering into the mirror. Seeing the dye was still in there, he put his head under once again. “So, she sent Indy to come over and talk with me after I had set it all up, to lead me over to the doorway where the can of green dye was planted. He had me distracted with his interesting conversation that I didn’t realize where we were going until…” and he motioned at his head as he surfaced for a breather.

I double over as I hoot with laughter. He gives me a death glare. “It’s not funny!”

“Sorry…sorry,” I splutter. I calm down enough to reply, “I wouldn’t have done that.”

He glares even more. “Oh, shut up.”

I appreciate all of you. Thank you so much for following, reading, etc.

Have a great day/night.


All novels and short stories on this blog are the works of @rue202 and Racheal’s Novels Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without the express and written permission of the author is strictly not allowed. You may use excerpts and links or reblogs of this material provided that complete and clear credit is given to rue202 and Racheal’s Novels with clear directions to the original content.

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