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Saturday, May 9, 2026

Hi everyone, forgive me for multitasking.  I’ve been so caught up in the Thursday Doors Writing Challenge (#TDWC) that I forgot to open the door for reader participation in a new Dragons of Cronesboro writing exercise.  We were also due for a Flower of the Month post, so I’m combining the two.  First let’s do the floral feature.

Flowers of the Month: Lily of the Valley and Hawthorne

The birth flower for May is the Lily of the Valley with Hawthorn as the alternate.  Both of these flowers symbolize sweetness, humility, hope, and the return of happiness.  They bloom during the transition from spring to summer, and embody the joy of the season.  Some sources say Lily of the Valley also represents motherhood.  Also associated with May is the color emerald-green (because of the emerald birthstone).  Animals for the month are mainly the deer, but also hummingbirds and squirrels.  

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The oracle card image is from the Alchemy Flower Oracle by Ingrid Koivukangas.  In this deck, the Lily of the Valley suggests that happiness is cultivated, and it acts as a message to us to encourage the growth of joy and positivity in our lives.

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Now to the writing exercise

Don’t Show Or Tell

For some time now, the fashionable writing advice has been “Show, don’t tell.”  A few sages are brave enough to disagree –in part– with that.  Frankly, there are times when it’s fine to “tell” rather than elaborately “show.”  However, my exercise today is about not really doing either.  This is about keeping it all secret… while showing, or even telling, just enough.  Are you still with me?  Sometimes an author needs to move ahead into the suspense of the story — even though the time for revealing things is still far away.  How then can the important elements remain unseen and yet have the narrator witness them?  That is the exercise I’ve given myself today.

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The Dragons of Cronesboro: 4
Bang Bang, Hold the Chicken

Deputy Sunshine pulled her police cruiser into the parking lot of the Jade Dragon Chinese Restaurant.  But don’t call her Sunshine, not if you value your hide.  She is properly known as Aelia Benally, and to a few as “Smokey.”  Her face was tanned and leathery, with more wrinkles than I had ever seen on one person, other than a Shar-Pei dog — and that was debatable.  The woman was tiny, but feistiness (and I suspected pure meanness) more than made up for what she lacked in size.

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My understanding was that I would be meeting up with Marisol Ladon and Ranger Wedo — that’s pronounced WEH-doh, and it’s mostly found in Louisiana.  Deputy Sunshine had said they would give me a ride home.  They were the only two non-law enforcement people I had met in Cronesboro.

I wonder if I could get a carryout order of Bang Bang Chicken.  I’m exhausted, but I’m also famished.

However, I was surprised to see the restaurant dark and closed.  The last of the patrons’ vehicles were departing.  The deputy tensed so suddenly and utterly that it seemed like could feel her muscles spasm from where I sat in the passenger seat.  With agility that belied her aged face, Aelia bounded out of the car.  She went straight toward the handyman, Ranger.  The man paced stiffly as if he was at least as tense as the deputy.

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Marisol walked toward me, still wearing that brightly printed caftan and carrying the beautiful cane that had a silver tip and an ornate silver handle.  She also held a small to-go box which she handed to me.

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“Divine wrapped up some sushi for Tiamat.  She always had a soft spot for that cat,” Marisol explained about the container.

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“Divine?”

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“I’m sorry.  I mean Divine Long.  She’s the owner of this place,” the woman remarked as a desert wind caused her caftan to billow.

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“Marisol, what’s going on?” I asked, shielding my eyes from blowing dirt.

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“Oh, it’s nothing to worry about.  Ranger’s just… well, he’s being Ranger,” she remarked with a glance heavenward as if praying for patience with the man.  “He tends to quietly pick up the slack from the sheriff.  Just between you and me, Hoyt Bigby isn’t the most competent sheriff…  Anyway, Ranger’s a retired DEA agent and he needs to put his skills and instincts to use,” she added in response to the question that was on my face.

“Okay…” I said with a crinkled brow, trying to prompt her to keep going.

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“Gosh, that’s right, you wouldn’t know,” Marisol murmured.  “Divine was instrumental in shutting down a Chinese gang in Los Angeles, back in the 90s.  Drugs, money laundering, you know?  Most of the gang’s kingpins just disappeared like they fell off the planet.  But a few of the lower-level ones made their way to Albuquerque.”

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That was interesting, but it didn’t explain all the tension and the abruptly closed restaurant.  I gave Marisol another verbal nudge.

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“Oh, you see, Ranger has an arrangement with the medical examiner’s office.  You know, off the record.  Right after the M.E. called the sheriff, he called Ranger.  That poor man they found in the arroyo?  He had a Ghost Dragon tattoo.”

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“I take it Ghost Dragons is the name of the re-formed gang,” I muttered.  “Does Ranger think the gang is here looking for Divine Long, for some kind of revenge?” I asked with a motion toward the restaurant.

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“Oh goodness no.  All that was worked out decades ago,” Marisol replied with a little wave that suggested the idea was silly.  “No, the water delivery man — the real one, I mean, not the one who came to Zia’s… I mean your house.  He really was working for the bottled water company, but he used to be a Ghost Dragon.  Ranger thinks the gang might look for retribution for his killing.”

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“Isn’t that jumping the gun a little?” I asked.  “The body was only just found this evening.  Plus, we’re a long way from Albuquerque.  What’s his rush?”

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“Well, it’s more complicated than that, Trinity.  The Ghost Dragons had joined with… well, these other… um, people.  But that relationship soured pretty quickly.  There’s been some unconfirmed violence between the two groups.  Ranger thinks your fake delivery man—”

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“He’s not my delivery man or my anything,” I interrupted, feeling defensive after the sheriff’s accusations.  “Sorry… go ahead.”

“Hoyt was being ugly to you?  I might have known.  Well, Ranger thinks maybe the fake guy killed the real delivery man,” Marisol continued and chose her words carefully.  “Oh, and there have been other things.  Like the… um… vehicle that was harassing you on the road, just below Chaos Creek.  That probably has something to do with the… um… the people that the gang tried to join with.”

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“So, you’re saying this other group has already been hanging around near town?” I confirmed.  “And that could mean that the gang is also nearby.  What?  Waiting for the excuse to escalate things?”

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I was startled when Deputy Sunshine’s cruiser burned rubber out of the parking lot.  She must have gotten a call from the station.

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It was full dark.  The moon and stars shone brilliantly in the sky, with no clouds to dim their light.  Maybe that’s what made it so noticeable when dark shapes began to flit across the sky.

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“Just bats,” I murmured to myself.

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The town was at a higher elevation than Chaos Creek, which I had crossed on my way into Cronesboro.  In the clear night, I could see that, as they had previously, the bats or whatever they were seemed to stay on the other side of the creek.

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I heard a distant pop-pop-pop of gunfire from that direction.  That noise was followed by a scream that was more bloodcurdling than anything I had ever heard in any horror movie.

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A huge shadow seemed to form behind the Jade Dragon restaurant.  It had to be a trick of the moonlight against the shape of the building.  Even so, I shuddered.

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“What are you still doing here?  Marisol, she shouldn’t be outside,” Ranger strode up to us and demanded angrily, which prompted me to turn and face him.

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“Oh for goodness’ sake.  Ranger, calm down.  Everything’s under control,” Marisol replied, unphased by his outburst, or apparently by the strange things that were happening around us.

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My peripheral vision caught the brightness of a prolonged blast of light that came from behind me.  I whirled back around.  Yellow smoke billowed up from the area beyond the creek.

The breeze quickly dispersed the smoke, although the air bore a faintly sulfuric odor.  The sky cleared.  Nothing moved on the starry backdrop.  The night was utterly silent.

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Next time my writing exercise will involve to the use of symbols… specifically symbols related to dragons.  To participate, leave a comment mentioning things you like or things that intrigue you that you find symbolic of dragons.

Thanks to my Night Cafe animal models.  Friendly comments are welcome.   Hugs!

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Naturally I have to include the obligatory shameless self-promotion.

Speak Flowers and Fans: a Dictionary of Floriography and Fanology

Universal Purchase Links

E-book:  relinks.me/B0FK3ZGNQT

Paperback:  relinks.me/B0FK3RH7LY

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