Corrine Kenner's Tarot for Writers came to mind. I pulled it off the shelf and was reminded of the variety of information, both writerly and tarot-ly, it contains. And, bonus, it's an entertaining read!
So, just for fun, I'm attempting a few book blurbs using an assortment of Twos of Cups as prompts.
Alice had never been on a blind date before; she'd always thought they were only for people much braver than herself. However, the lure of High Tea at posh Lapin Manor overrode her shyness, and she accepted the invitation. Her companion was not what she expected, but quite charming, and an attentive host. They chatted easily at their table in the Otage Garden.
Had Alice paid more attention during French class, she would have known what otage meant...
|The Alice Tarot|
Whoa, this babe might be more than he could handle. He should've waited until he was sober before suggesting they get hitched. I mean, he liked tough chicks as well as the next dude, but chains? vows etched in blood? spiked collar? He hoped it wasn't too late to back out.
They were highborn and wealthy; their union had been planned long before their uniformed nannies rocked them in their heirloom cradles. It was a match avidly sought by both families. Their flawless bloodlines would merge into an unstoppably powerful next generation. And thus would begin the dynasty that no one could have predicted...
He was so handsome and kind; he knew just what to say to put her at her ease, to make her feel grown up. One minute she was sitting alone on the cold stone bench, contemplating running away and ending it all; the next she found herself lulled by moonlight and his persuasive, gentle voice. She would show them that she wasn't a child...
The entire village had turned out for the festivities. Four pigs had been roasted and consumed along with copious quantities of wine and ale supplied by the bride's father. According to tradition, the prospective couple had never been alone in each other's company until this day. And now, with the ceremony behind them and the band packing up, it was time for the townsfolk to escort the newlyweds to their marriage bed amid the customary drunken catcalls and lewd shouts. The young husband comes to his new wife unschooled in the arts of love. As for the young bride? Her father would willingly have slaughtered every one of his pigs to be rid of her.
They had pulled it off - an entire week together on the tiny secluded island of St. Kitts. As far as their spouses were concerned, Brynne and Tony had flown to Toronto for a conference on managerial styles.
Larry punched in the number. "Brynne's finally gone," he said. "You all packed?"
"I thought Tony would never leave," said Marilyn. "Seven glorious days alone with you! I've never been to St. Kitt's - can't wait!"
~ The End ~