Novel-novel oleh Carrie Elise

Oliver stands outside, talking on the phone, his voice low and businesslike. Scotty the mini schnauzer rests on his bed nearby, eyes closed in peaceful contentment. Scarlett takes a break from her own pumpkin to decorate one for Scotty, choosing a smaller gourd for the task. She has a stencil shaped like a dog that resembles a mini schnauzer, and the engrossed dog owner traces it carefully before beginning to carve, her tongue poking out slightly in concentration.Oliver returns from his phone call, his expression relaxed again. "It was a work call. Sorry about that," he says, then pauses to observe Scarlett carving a dog into the pumpkin's surface."It's okay. So, everything is fine, then?" Scarlett asks, glancing up briefly. "I am carving a pumpkin for Scotty—I have a stencil that looks just like him. What do you think?" She giggles while examining her work, then looks adoringly over at the real Scotty. The mini schnauzer wags his tail, drinks some water, and studies his own reflect

It is Wednesday at eight o'clock in the morning, and the air still carries the crisp bite of early fall. Scarlett zips up her light jacket and steps outside with Scotty trotting eagerly at her heels, his leash jingling with each bound. The rolling hills stretch out before them, dotted with trees that have turned brilliant shades of amber and crimson, their fallen leaves scattered like confetti across the ground. Scarlett breathes in deeply, savoring the cool morning air and the quiet stillness of the park before it fully wakes.As she rounds the bend near the neighboring lot, a woman emerges from her RV, coffee mug in hand, and offers a warm smile. The two women introduce themselves, their conversation flowing easily as their dogs sniff and circle one another with cautious curiosity. The neighbor, who calls herself Mrs. Johnson, explains that she and her husband have settled in for the winter season, their little dachshund already proving to be a spirited companion. Scarlett watches

Scarlett returns to New Haven, savoring the quiet beauty of the rural RV park. Maple and pine trees scatter throughout the grounds, their branches also lining the fence that marks its border. The wood fence, rustic yet well kept, stretches between vertical posts joined by two horizontal beams. The maples stand vivid with reddish-orange leaves, their color deepening in the early light. Scarlett's blue truck sits parked once more, home at last from the train station lot, its tires still dusted with dirt from the winding road into the park.She steps out and breathes deeply, feeling the weight of a busy weekend finally lift from her shoulders. Though the trip brought its own kind of joy, she finds herself grateful to return to this tranquil setting, where rolling grassy mountains rise in the distance and colorful trees—red, yellow, purple, and orange—blanket their slopes like a quilt stitched together by the season itself. There's a stillness here that the city can never offer, a peace

Scarlett awakens to Scotty licking her face happily, his grey tail wagging with unrestrained joy. She groans and laughs at once, the sound still thick with sleep. Sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the tangled sheets, and for a moment she simply lies there, savoring the dog's unfiltered affection. "Alright, Scotty, I'm awake," she says, her voice softening as she relents and rubs his chest, then moves to scratch beneath his well-groomed chin. He leans into her touch, eyes half-closed in contentment, and she feels a quiet gratitude settle over her—for this small, familiar ritual, and for the loyal companion who never fails to greet each morning as though it were the best one yet. Scarlett breathes in the aroma of the potpourri resting on the bedside table, cinnamon and apple mingling in a way that evokes a hearty appetite and reminds her that autumn has arrived. The scent carries her back to childhood kitchens and crisp afternoons, and she lingers in the m

Scarlett and Oliver meet in Times Square, where the atmosphere pulses with energy. Towering billboards flash in every direction, their neon glow washing over the crowds below, but the two quickly realize there isn't a single country bar in sight. Still, caught up in the spectacle, they pause to take some photos together, laughing as they try to fit the dazzling lights into the frame.Scarlett's reddish curls bounce under her suede western hat as she shifts and poses, her cheeks flushed from the cold and the thrill of the city around them. Her grey western boots, adorned with glitter and sparkling sequins shaped like angel wings, catch the streetlight with every step. Her burgundy top with its lacey overlay hides beneath her brown leather jacket. The cool night air surrounds Oliver and Scarlett, and he leans closer as if trying to warm her, his hand brushing hers for a moment before he laces his fingers through hers.His plaid western shirt, a mix of orange, brown, and cream, tucks ne

As Scarlett prepares for a day on the lake in Central Park, she glances at Scotty. His coffee-brown eyes soften, and he wags his grey tail in eager anticipation. She checks her phone for the weather. Hmmm, fifties and sixties. Better dress warmly, already picturing the breeze off the water. She rummages through her suitcase, selecting a crème-colored sweater with a lacey overlay, paired with jeans. She peers into a small hat box tucked inside her pink waterproof suitcase, smiling as she chooses a crème-colored cashmere beret adorned with a flower on the side. It was a gift from her mother, one she treasures for the memories it holds as much as its style.She dresses quickly, recalling that Scotty needs a walk. She slips on her tall brown leather boots, which fall below her knees, the leather creaking pleasantly with each step. Scarlett places maple-colored earrings in each ear, pausing to admire them in the mirror; they remind her of the autumn leaves she cannot wait to see blanketin

In the morning the sun peers in through the window. Peter opens his eyes, looks at Gracie and cuddles her, she awakens looking at him smiling, then kisses him. He looks at the clock and says, “I need to go home so I can get ready for work.” Gracie slightly disappointed but accepts the reality check. He kisses her cheek, then her neck, then her pink lips. His soulful blue-green eyes, pour adoration into her sparkling green eyes. Peter plays with her hair, strokes her face, then kisses her one more time. He rolls out of Gracie’s bed, gets dressed, pets Gunner. “See you later, pal.” Gracie gets up to walk Peter out. They kiss one more time, he hugs her lifting her up, so her feet are off the ground, The slender woman curls her legs up then releases them back down until they reach the ground. Peter drives off in his dark blue truck. Gunner runs out to go potty, he runs a few laps, then comes back inside. Gracie feeds him, then herself. After freshening up, she resonates on the cabin for

The Following week Gracie is at the blood drive to donate blood. Paxton is beside her donating as well. He finishes before her and sits waiting for her. Once she is done, she gets up too fast and faints as she walks in front of Paxton, he stands up and catches her. He looks at her displaying concern then lays her back down on the donation bed. She is assessed by the workers. The lack of blood made her faint, but her vital signs are good.” I’ll be back in about thirty minutes” he said. “Please keep an eye on her, and do not let her get up again.” Paxton went to get his tow dolly to put her jeep on so he can take her and the vehicle home. I think she needs to rest for the remainder of the day. He thinks to himself. After he returns, she is still laying on the donating bed, recovering from giving away her blood to needy people. “Gracie, I have your jeep on a dolly attached to my truck, I’m going to take you and your jeep home ok. I’ll stay with you the rest of the day,” Paxton picks Grac

Gracie and Gunner cruise down highway sixteen in the jeep with the top off. She takes a left at highway forty-six savoring the hilly, winding, curving road. The scenic view of mostly hills and some houses brings joy to Gracie’s mind. The sun is shining down on her while the wind is blowing her hair. The woman glances in the rear view mirror at her beautiful dog sitting happily in the backseat. His black and brown fur gently moves from the wind, his harness is attached to the seat belt to keep him safe and secure. His loving brown eyes focus on hers as she looks at him. Gunner is the light of Gracie’s life, her pride and joy, her best companion. She continues to drive the highway marveling while complacent in the moment full of joy, peace, solitude, and tranquility. Before she knows it, they arrive at the lake. She brings out her inflatable double kayak so Gunner can ride with her. She recalls to put sunblock on herself. Then, leaves the cooler in the jeep and is wearing her bikini wit

It’s Tuesday and Gracie has signed up to volunteer with building a house. She is interested in woodworking so maybe this can help her with acquiring skills and learning how to handle the different types of saw machines. Upon arrival, Gracie sees Paxton. The house has already been framed with the siding and roof put on. They are inside working on the interior. Gracie and Paxton work closely together on a task, laying tile together. The two on their knees on the floor. Paxton hands her a tile as she looks into his soulful brown eyes, he peers into her sparkling green eyes and takes a step towards her. He leans closer to her face ready to kiss her but one of the other volunteers walked in. They resume tiling the floor in the room. Soon it is lunch time, someone has brought sandwiches and drinks. The volunteers take a break to eat and mingle. Following lunch, since the tile was done, Gracie is paired with a group performing a different task. She mingles with the other volunteers while the

Friday morning and Gracie is a little groggy from the night before. Her alarm buzzing at seven am. She looks at her phone then realizes she signed up to Volunteer for the food drive. She sees notifications from the dating site. It is Peter, “I enjoyed dancing with you last night, we should do it again.” Gracie decides not to respond right now. The woman gets ready for the day. She makes it to the food drive at nine. Paxton is in the parking lot loading canned food onto a utility cart. He comes over to greet her and take her box of donated food. Gracie checks the list which has her assigned to help sort canned goods. Gracie and several others are sorting through bags of goods donated. Paxton appears and is assigned to a different group, where he is with several women. He seems a little flirty with them. Gracie did not know Paxton would be here. She feels a little awkward. Then Peter walks towards her section as he is assigned to the same group. Oh, now this is more awkward, Gracie tho

A few hours later, Gracie and an entourage of women meet at the country dancehall. There is a live band, people shout to hear one another. It is somewhat dark in the seating or standing areas and carpeted walkways. The bars are lit up, beer stations are sporadically located through the dancehall. There are cocktail servers walking around with test tube shots. The dance floor is lit up by overhead lighting. The dance floor features a bar that people can stand and dance on. Gracie and her friends get shots! She chooses butterscotch and Bailey’s, then a shot of tequila rose! After two rounds of shots at, they all order a regular drink. Gracie asked for a vodka and cranberry with lime. The cluster of women walked around the bar together until finding a spot to sit. They watch the band play as they talk and laugh. Gracie notices that classmate from middle school as he asks one of her friends to dance. His name is Frank Spencer. His blonde hair falls around his cheekbones, and his green eye

Melody and Gage arrive at the harbor side restaurant just as the sun begins its descent toward the water, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose. Melody pauses at the entrance, drawing in a slow breath of salt-tinged air, and lets the last of the day’s warmth settle over her shoulders like a familiar embrace. Gage watches her for a moment before offering his arm, his smile betraying a quiet eagerness he hasn’t felt in years.The establishment occupies a weathered building that once served as a fisherman’s warehouse, its exposed brick walls now softened by warm bulbs and trailing ivy. Decades of salt air have worn the timber beams to a silvery gray, yet the space still hums with the echo of old labor, of nets once hauled and catches once weighed. Strings of amber lights crisscross the ceiling, casting a honeyed glow over the room, while the faint clink of glasses and murmur of conversation drift from the tables nearest the water. Melody’s fingers tighten slightly around Gage’s

Leo and Mia sit in the backseat of the heated RAV4, seatbelts stretched across their chests and latched securely. The windows have fogged slightly from the warmth inside, creating a cocoon against the crisp morning air. Both children have grown noticeably taller since their summer arrival—their heads simply reach higher in the seats. Melody cruises along the pine-framed two-lane road, her fingers relaxed on the steering wheel. She glances occasionally at the cool autumn sun rising in the pale sky, its light filtering through the towering pines that line both sides of the road. In the rearview mirror, she catches glimpses of the children—Leo staring out the window with quiet contemplation, Mia clutching her new backpack against her chest. Their destination is the elementary school, a single-story red brick building that has stood for decades, weathered and familiar, just a few miles from their home and the beach. Mia shifts in her seat, and Melody hears the small intake of breath tha

Outside the resilient, dome-shaped cottage of pastel blue and dark blue shutters, the Caldwell sisters stand in the cool, misty air. Emerald Isle's grey-blue ocean swells, rise high and dissipate at the white sandy shore. A hidden sun remains out of sight, not even peeking behind the gloomy clouds. Heavy salt runs stronger in the air, this Sunday morning. Melody can taste it on her tongue and feel it in her nares. A light wind tugs at their hair and sleeves. It's nearly September, and something about the changing season presses on them both, unspoken but shared.Melody wraps her lavender cardigan tighter, her white Sunday dress, ruffles in the thick sea breeze. Her eyes fix on the horizon as though she might find an answer there. Harmony sporting grey slip on sneakers, shifts her weight from foot to foot. One hand rests on her designer suitcase handle, the other smoothes over her denim capris, as she twists her mouth side to side. Neither speaks. The silence between them holds years o

The evening sun dips toward the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and pink. A cool breeze sweeps across the deck, carrying with it the salty tang of the ocean and the lingering sweetness of birthday cake. For the first time in years, Melody felt genuine satisfaction settle in her chest—a lightness that came from knowing her ex-husband had finally been brought to justice. She is divorced, free, and ready to celebrate.The deck still bears the cheerful chaos of the birthday party. Green and blue streamers twisted in the wind, their metallic surfaces catching the fading light. Balloons bobbed and swayed, some already beginning to deflate. On one table sat tubs of chocolate and vanilla ice cream, their contents melting slowly in the warm evening air. A metal scooper rested beside them, abandoned. The centerpiece was a dissected three-layer cake decorated with a nautical theme—sharks, fish, anchors, and ocean waves adorned each tier. The blue vinyl tablecloth rippled

Melody attends Blaze's court hearing online from her sunroom, where open windows invite the rhythmic sounds of the ocean inside and enable the sun rays to leak in. The mid-morning sun, warm and peachy, rests above the deep blue waters, casting a gentle glow that seems to soften the world's edges. Its light dances across the rippling surface, creating patterns of gold and amber that shifts with each passing wave. The warmth touches everything it reaches, a tender embrace that promises the day will unfold with quiet grace. She watches waves roll forward and kiss the shore. Therapeutic music fills the space. It's gentle tune—calming guitar strings, flute, and piano—reaches through her soul like a balm, soothing her anxious mind. Each note untangles the knots of tension that have gathered in her chest. The guitar's warm resonance reminds her of simpler times, while the flute's airy whisper seems to carry away her worries. As the piano joins in with soft, deliberate chords, she feels her

Gage recovers slowly, his strength returning day by day. The wound on his head—where Blaze struck him with a metal rod during last week's hurricane—still shows bruising that has faded from brown to yellow. A small gash, sealed with liquid stitches, marks the spot where the blow landed. His mild concussion has resolved, though the memory of that moment still haunts him in quiet hours.He finds himself grateful for small victories: standing without dizziness, reading without the words blurring together, sleeping through the night without waking to phantom pains. Each morning brings subtle improvements that he catalogs carefully, as if documenting his own resurrection. The physical healing progresses steadily, but something deeper troubles him—a vulnerability he hadn't known before, a newfound awareness of how quickly everything can shatter.Gage sits in the sunroom with Melody as she awaits the divorce hearing online. Her fingers drum nervously against the armrest, a rhythm only he seem