
I’ve been sick for a few days, and have zero inspiration to write either my novella or my novel. Both of which need to be written. So I’m going to take all the pressure off and attempt a part two of my story A Stormy Night, which I began in my first Write Your Worst post. Let’s hope it can rejuvenate my creativity!
The Rules
- Link back to the creator of the tag, Saraina Whitney
- Include the tag graphic in your post
- Thank the blogger who tagged you and link back to their blog
- Display the rules in your post
- In a thousand words or less, do your best to create the most poorly-written story you can. Indulge in cheesiness, stiff or overly flowery prose, poor grammar, and cliche premises to your heart’s content.
- Break all the writing rules you want
- Keep it clean, of course; do not take “worst” to mean morally so
- Though you can make fun of cliches you hate, do stay respectful of other’s opinions
- Tag any bloggers you’re dying to see try this, or leave an open nomination!
- You can repeat the challenge however many times you want
A Stormy Night – Part 2
Lady Lucianalynn Rose shivered. It was so cold, and her heart was beating so fast. The rain, too, was pounding her in the face. Duke Ruttenson sat behind her on the black stallion they were borrowing from the castle’s stables.
She’d bound up his injured leg to the best of her ability (which actually wasn’t saying much, if she was honest) and quickly scrounged up a bag of provisions before donning a proper cloak and following the man out the castle doors into the dark, stormy night.
Even though she didn’t like Uncle Hammond, she’d felt bad about fleeing in the dead of night with no warning to him of where she would be. (Not that she knew where this Duke Ruttenson was taking her.) But Duke Ruttenson had begged her not to leave her uncle a note.
“‘Tis better to spare him the knowledge, otherwise he might be tortured into revealing your whereabouts.”
Lucianalynn Rose had graciously refrained from pointing out that it wouldn’t take torture for Uncle Hammond to spill the beans about her escape.
As Lucianalynn Rose dug her fingers into the stallion’s mane and squinted against the flash of rain and lightning and thunder, she realized she’d never had the sense to ask how Duke Ruttenson had gotten his wound.
A jolt passed through her, from her scalp to her toes. Yes, he had the most delicious brown hair and chocolate eyes – a most dashing man indeed – and she believed it might be possible that she had fallen in love with him at first sight (or nearly first sight, anyway)…but even so, he may be hiding treacherous secrets.
She twisted around to stare him straight in the eyes. That is, what she hoped was straight in the eyes. The darkness of the night made it impossible to tell for certain if she was staring at his eyes, his nose, or his chin.
“How did your leg get injured, Duke Ruttenson?” she asked.
He didn’t answer for a long moment. Long enough for her to face forward again and stare ahead into the dark field they were riding through.
Then his voice practically hummed through her. “The man who would be your murderer. I learned of his evil scheme and thought to put an end to it then and there. I fought with him. Neither of us emerged with a clear victory, but for me, it came at the cost of the injury you were so kind as to bind up.”
A shiver coursed through Lucianalynn Rose. “Who was this man you speak of?”
“Thomas Edwias Matteson.”
More questions burned inside her, but the appearance of a dark forest ahead halted those from spilling past her lips.
“My dear Lu Rose,” the duke said, and Lucianalynn Rose did not scold him for failing to use her full name. “Have no fear. Within this forest is a kind couple who will shelter you for the night. There are wild beasts and strange creatures in the woods, yes, but you will be protected.”
Trees zoomed past her as Duke Ruttenson and Lucianalynn Rose rode though the forest. Then a turn was taken as the duke reined the horse down an inky path, so dark that Lucianalynn Rose had to shut her eyes to stave the flood of horrible imaginings regarding toothed creatures and fanged monsters.
“Have no fear,” Ruttenson whispered gallantly, wrapping his arms around her like he could sense her fear.
At another time, she would have swooned at his chivalrous display, indicative of a heart both caring and protective (…of her, so it seemed. The thought!). But as it was, she settled for drawing a measure of comfort from it, which she fiercely clung to until the horse stopped and she cracked her eyes open to behold a cabin nestled in the woods.
Ruttenson helped her to the ground and lead her up to the door, limping slightly as he did so, poor man.
He had barely put his knuckles to the door before said door flung open to reveal a plump old woman with a flour-dusted apron, white curls, and a savage glare, which softened to a gentle frown at the sight of Ruttenson. “What brings you out to these parts, lad?” she said snappily. “Make it quick, the bread’s awaitin’.”
Lucianalynn Rose bristled a bit at the woman’s tone of voice – so different from Ruttenson’s. “I thought the word you used to describe this couple was kind,” she muttered out of the corner of her mouth.
From the firelight glowing past the woman’s half-open door, Lucianalynn Rose caught a hint of a smile twitch along Ruttenson’s mouth. “You haven’t met the man yet,” he whispered back, then gave the woman a full-blown grin which was entirely undeserved, Lucianalynn Rose thought.
(At least she had the sense to keep that opinion to herself.)
“My dear Mistress Hayes, how do you do? It’s been too long since we’ve seen each other. You’re looking as well as ever, I do declare.” Then a wince passed across every line of his fine face, forcing him past the undeserved niceties and on to the urgent business which fatefully had brought them to this cabin door in the midst of a haunted, thunder-wrapped forest. “We come seeking safety and shelter, which I know you can give us. At least just for this night.”
Mistress Hayes snorted. “Night? It’s nearly mornin’!” Then she gestured toward his leg. “I can see you’re favorin’ a leg. Get your hide in here, lad – you and that lass of yours.” She jerked the door wider open and shooed Lucianalynn Rose and Ruttenson into the warmth of her cabin.
Ruttenson immediately collapsed onto a chair around the kitchen table, his jaw grit tight. Lucianalynn Rose rushed to his side, scanning his features. “Is there something I can make you for the pain?”
“I’m already on it, lass!” Mistress Hayes called, bustling around the kitchen, mixing this and that.
Before Lucianalynn Rose could even throw back the hood of her cloak, Mistress Hayes had Ruttenson sipping some pungent-smelling brew.
What an odd woman.
Then Ruttenson set down the cup and looked at Lucianalynn Rose with those heart-melting eyes. “Lu Rose…you will be safe here. I wish I could stay to guard you, but I must ride ahead to speak with a friend of mine who will know what to do about the man who was sent to murder you, and the evil schemers behind that. I will be back tomorrow. I promise you.”
Lucianalynn Rose propped her hands on her lips. “Your leg is still injured, good sir.”
He rose and walked toward the door. “I’ll be fine. Truly. I’ve suffered far worse.”
Which only served to remind her how little she knew of her heaven-sent rescuer.
He placed a hand on the doorknob. Lucianalynn Rose ran forward and placed a hand on the door, blocking his exit. “I hope you will not think me too forward for asking a certain question.”
“Of course not. What is it you wish to know?”
“We…ah…we…were…supposed…to….get…married? Remember?”
He smiled a smile heavy with regret. “We were. And I’m so sorry you won’t be granted the lovely wedding you must have been dreaming of, thanks to this sorry mess.”
“Don’t dare apologize – I’d been introduced to the man Uncle Hammond said I was getting married to – he went by the name of Duke Ruttenson too, only he was old and…not like you. An imposter. I don’t know what his true name was. But this saved me from marrying that odious fellow!” She shivered, imagining life married to that man. “But, I wanted to know, are we…still going to be wedded?”
Mistress Hayes snorted and turned around to pummel her lump of bread dough.
Ruttenson ignored her and took Lucianalynn Rose’s hand. “If you will still have me, Lu Rose.”
And so the adventure continues…
What do you think of Ruttenson and Lucianalynn Rose? Mistress Hayes? Have you ever tried to write a story badly? Are you able to write when you’re sick, or is it just me who feels no inspiration during those times? Feel free to steal this tag for yourself!
(Update after having written this: I’m feeling much better from whatever that sickness was! And this exercise definitely paid off, because I have enough brain cells to start work on my stories again! 👏)

I am, quite honestly, hooked. I’m holding it to you to update us on what happens next. Please. I need to know. I’m also unashamedly stealing this tag because attempting write a story badly is genius. For some reason, I can picture Ruttenson and Lucianalynn Rose (woah! One heck of a name that is) rather vividly in my head, so good on you, describing how they appear so well without quite describing how they appear.
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🤣 Thank you, Breanna!!! I find it very likely that I’ll continue this series 😛 Yayyy! I can’t wait to see your version of it! ❤ Ooo, you can? That's awesome! (I know, that name is…quite a name 😜)
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If that was your attempt to write as badly as possible, I think you failed…
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I’m afraid I can write much worse than this, thank you very much. 🤣 What made this annoyingly tolerable is that I wasn’t even trying. I was just writing whatever came first into my mind. (Which apparently is my definition of “worst”… 🤔 Hmm.) I think my worst writing actually happens when I’m really trying to make it PERFECT. That mindset messes everything up.
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If your fancy descriptions are your version of ‘worst’, then I think you are the best worst writer. XD
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AWW! 😆 Thank you, Addison!!
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You’re welcome!! 😁 You’ve inspired me to try to write my worst sometime, can’t wait to try that lol. And totally agreed, I cannot write AT ALL when I’m sick.
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YAY! I bet you’ll have a lot of fun with it! 😁 Ugh, right? It’s the worst! 😢
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I’m sure!! 😃 I know, it’s so annoying! Especially because that’s when I have a ton of down-time lol
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Exactly! 🤣
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Hooray! The story continues! I can’t really write when I’m sick, so I’m super impressed with what you came up with. (Seriously though, I agree with E.B Roshan up there XD.)
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Lol, indeed it does… 😂 Oh, you too? It’s so hard to find any inspiration when sick! 😭 (Haha, thankee very much! 😛 )
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Ooooo, this is an interesting take on writing! I honestly don’t know what writing my worst would look like… lol
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It’s SO FUN! XDD Lol, I didn’t either until I first did this challenge! 😉
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