gleeful grandiva

creative living for big and little kids

Category: Fun with Fiction (Page 2 of 2)


This is the final part of the mystery story Smiling Palms. You can read part one here, part two here and part three here. Please note this is fiction and any similarity between real people and places is purely coincidental.


smiling palms - part four picture




“I told you I’ve already searched the grounds and she isn’t there,” Shannon shouted.

“And where is her crystal castle? She wouldn’t have taken that with her on some stroll through the village.”

“Now now, just settle down. How could I possibly know where your aunt is? As for the castle, crystal was it? These old dears do the oddest things. Maybe she did take it with her.”

Shannon pushed past the manager and fled the unit, her mind racing as she tried to figure out what to do. Surely there wouldn’t have been time to arrange an ‘accident’ for her aunt. Maybe they had locked her somewhere until they could arrange another night time fall. With all the spying eyes they would have to wait for the cover of darkness.

Shannon ran back towards the office, nearly knocking over an old woman with a walking frame in her haste. She could hear Miss Davies behind her consoling the elderly lady. She had no idea where the manager’s unit was but thought she may be able to find it by following the wire from the office bell.

The manager’s home seemed the obvious place to hide someone so she followed the wire up some stairs to a unit with the numbers 36 on the door. This appeared to be the only unit on the floor above the office. The door was locked and, as Shannon could hear Miss Davies running up the stairs, she frantically kicked and pounded the door with her fists and feet.

“Well, you can tell you two are related,” Miss Davies snarled when she arrived up the stairs.

“You’re just as much of a trouble maker as your aunt and now I’ll have to deal with both of you.”

With that she pushed past Shannon, opened the door then turned and grabbed Shannon and pushed her into the unit. Shannon was too shocked to move.

Aunt Mary was tied to a dining room chair in the spacious unit. Wide, silver tape covered her mouth and her eyes were wild with fear.

Miss Davies hovered over the terrified woman, brandishing a knife from out of nowhere.

“It was easy luring her here,” she hissed.

“These old fools are so gullible.

“I wasn’t counting on you though. Your aunt is a trouble maker. Mary, Mary, quite contrary.

“All day we put up with stupid complaints from even more stupid people – way past their use by date.

“There’s not enough money in the world to compensate for this depressing job.

“So we take a few measly ornaments and a bit of cash to make up for it. I mean what can they do?

“But your silly aunt had to complain to anyone who would listen. Now she’ll have to be dealt with. And you too, I imagine.”

Miss Davies suddenly swung the knife in Shannon’s direction, promising the other manager, Mr Johnson, would work out what to do with them when he returned.

“He is going to be furious that you stuck your nose in and he will make you pay in pain,” she promised.

“Getting rid of Mary is going to be easy – a nasty fall should do the trick, but you are a spanner in the works.”

Finally, her instincts took over and Shannon kicked Miss Davies in the leg, making her stagger and drop the knife as she tried to save herself from falling.

The taller woman didn’t have time to recover from the shin kick when Shannon used all the force of her small body to shove the manager to the ground.

In a split second Miss Davies was up and Shannon frantically searched around for another weapon. Her eyes fell on the only object within reach – the crystal castle.

She grabbed it and threw it with all her might at the manager’s head.

Amazingly it didn’t break but its fine lines were obliterated by a layer of blood that instantly poured from the head wound.

The roll of tape was lying on the floor near the chair Aunt Mary was tied to. Shannon quickly grabbed it and bound Miss Davies.  Fleeing was not an option because Aunt Mary couldn’t move fast enough and no one knew when Mr Johnson would return.

With trembling fingers, Shannon called emergency and after what seemed like an eternity was told the police were on their way. She put the phone down and rushed to untie her aunt.

“Oh Shannon, I was so scared,” Aunt Mary cried.

“I thought she’d kill us both.”

The old women dissolved into tears as she collapsed into Shannon’s arms.

Shannon was relieved when she heard the sirens as she still didn’t know where Mr Johnson was.

The police finally arrived but it took several hours to explain all that had happened. They assured Shannon and Aunt Mary they would find Mr Johnson.

One of the officers assured Aunt Mary she would get her castle back, and anything else that had been stolen,  once the investigation was finished.

As they were leaving, Shannon overheard him say to his partner, “amazing to appear so fragile yet be so strong”.

She wasn’t sure if he was referring to the castle, or to her.

This was the final part to Smiling Palms. I hope you enjoyed it. 

Come back next Friday for the real life horror story of retirement villages.

Have a gleeful week, Tamuria.



This is the third  installment of the mystery story Smiling Palms. You can read part one here and part two here. The final installment will be published next Friday. Please note this is fiction and any similarity between real people and places is purely coincidental.

smiling palms part three picture


At this, Aunt Mary burst into tears and shook uncontrollably as Shannon held her in a firm embrace.

Shannon promised to take her elderly aunt home with her, never to return. All she needed was a few days to find a place, having given up her rented house when she left for Canada. Once they were safely out of the village, they could try to organise an official investigation and attempt to sell the unit without the usual penalties for selling before the agreed upon 12-year contract, Shannon promised.

Aunt Mary pulled herself together and began the calming process of making tea and sandwiches. Shannon could see how hard it was for the old woman to accept that their roles had been reversed. After years of being strong and comforting for Shannon, Aunt Mary was now the one seeking help and refuge.

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This is the second instalment of the four-part mystery series Smiling Palms. If you missed the first one you can read it here. A new instalment will be published each Friday. Please note this is fiction and any similarity between real people and places is purely coincidental.

smiling palms part two pictue



Shannon remembered her aunt’s sharp mind and couldn’t help wondering if the move had somehow made it turn feeble. It was unimaginable that someone would stoop to killing elderly people who rarely had more than their pensions to live on.

When Aunt Mary finally answered her urgent knocks, Shannon nearly burst into tears. The big, strong woman, her childhood protector, had become so frail and fragile that even her height could not stop her from appearing to be a waif. The grey pallor of her skin matched the grey of her hair, once so thick and dark. Shannon remembered the strong shoulders and ample bosom and her amazement at the fact that her aunt’s skinny legs could hold up so much body. Now, she realised with horror, those skinny legs could barely hold up what had become a tiny, shrunken frame. She appeared to have aged 12 years, not 12 months.

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This is part one of a four-part mystery series set in the seemingly innocent surroundings of a retirement village. A new installment will be published each Friday. Please note this is fiction and any similarity between real people and places is purely coincidental.


smiling palms part one picture




Even before she stepped out of the car Shannon could feel the hairs on the back of her neck rise. She wondered if paranoia was contagious. After all, what danger could there be in a place called Smiling Palms Retirement Village?

The surroundings confirmed this thought. Brightly coloured signs pointed to various unit blocks that looked more like a holiday resort than a place to wait for death. Shannon grimaced as she thought this. She was not usually so morbid but her aunt had already planted the seed by referring to the place as “God’s waiting room”. If what her aunt had been saying was true, then her wait may be much shorter than bargained for.

Shannon had only yesterday returned from a stint in Canada as an exchange schoolteacher. The attractive 35-year-old blond, whose petite figure and luxurious, long hair never failed to turn heads, specialised in teaching challenged children diagnosed with behavioural problems.

Her small stature belied an amazing physical strength and inner resolve, which she largely attributed to her aunt’s influence.

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my secret garden picture



It’s a crazy time of year, isn’t it? The Christmas frenzy, the New Year celebration – have you had time to stop and smell the roses?


In keeping with the garden theme this week I’m sharing a poem about my own little slice of heaven. I hope you enjoy.

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the wild wardrobe picture


How many times have you told your children to put their clothes away? Does it feel like your requests are falling on deaf ears?

Perhaps the tale of this messy boy and his backyard adventures will make them listen.

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Happy New Year! I wish you love, happiness and health.

let's lead from the heart picture

If that is not what 2016 has in store for you then I wish you the inner peace to overcome.

One of the easiest ways to chase away the blues is to replace negative thoughts with happy ones.

Sometimes a little prompting helps and I am so excited to offer you a collection of happy quotes and pretty pictures to refer to when you need a lift, with The Little Book of Happiness.

The Little Book of Happiness

This little gem of joy could be just what you need to help flick the unhappy switch and bring back your smile.

Just sign up for my newsletter, Gleeful Greetings, and you can download the ebook for free. The sign-up link is at the end of this post.

You will also receive weekly bits of happiness into your inbox with links to my latest posts and to other happy places as well as other irresistible freebies and some fun fiction – check out The Reading Room.

In the meantime, enjoy this little poem, celebrating the year that could be.

Hate and fear will not change things. Only love can overcome.

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DEADLY DECISION – the day of the surgeon

The following is a short story based on real life experiences. It honours friendship – in all its forms and recognises the enormous responsibility we have to those friendships – in all their forms.

Deadly Decision picture

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Merry Christmas

this is Christmas day in an Aussie home picture


My wish for you is a very happy day, whichever way you choose to spend it.

As many of my readers come from colder climes I thought it would be fun to write a little poem describing what Christmas is like for some of us in the Land Down Under.

When we were younger and interstate from parents,  Hubby and I often spent the day at the beach with friends.

These days it’s a family affair. This year is particularly fun as it’s ‘our turn’ to host – a privilege we alternate with the in-laws who have recently expanded our family.

I am acutely aware there are many who, for a variety of reasons, cannot share this day with loved ones and I’m sending love their way.

Usually, our Christmas days are hot – 40 degrees Celsius is 104.0 degrees Fahrenheit, but at the time of writing this (November) we have been having some unseasonably chilly days, so who knows.

Either way, it’s sure to be fun.

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starting a blog picture

Start writing a blog they said. It will be fun they said. Well, guess what? They were right. But starting a blog hasn’t been without its challenges.


Happy Birthday to Gleeful Grandiva – one-month-old tomorrow.

Hard to believe that six weeks ago I had never heard of a widget. Plugins were how I connected lamps to the power. Ping went with pong for a fun ball game.

Amazing what you learn when starting a blog.

About four days before my first publish I was in major meltdown as I couldn’t make a widget do what I wanted.

I was not acting my most glamorous!

I soon realised I would have to change my attitude if I was going to be able to survive the tangled web of the, well…web.

I fought back with this poem (who said the pen is mightier than the sword?) in an effort to keep a sense of humour.

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