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  • Writer's pictureGrace A. Johnson

A Week's Worth of Laughter (Week Four: LOL Excerpts)

The funniest things I ever wrote. Starting now.

#1: A very recent scene from Bound and Determined, in Rina's POV.


If someone called for me one more time whilst I was in the middle of something important, so help me…

I pivoted to face the source of my interruption, certain ‘twas the glower I wore that caused the young man to throw up his hands and back away a couple paces. “Aye, sir? What can I help you with?”

Perspiration dotted the boy’s brow, appearing not from the sun but from the same origin of his scattered gaze. Had I forgotten to brush my hair this morning? It could look a touch frightening if I hadn’t tied it out of my face or combed down the wild frizz the humidity produced. Perhaps he were just unused to having a woman over six feet tall glare down at him as though he were a pesky maggot.

That was probably it.

“We’re, um, we’re awaiting your orders, sir, er, ma’am, uh…”

“Captain is fine.”


I sensed Keaton’s chuckle, muffled by a strategically placed hand over his mouth, and had to stifle my own as the boy nodded aimlessly, repeating that they were awaiting my orders, only this time with an emphasized captain attached to the end.

“Thank you, lad. Mr. Clarke and I need only one more moment to discuss some imperative matters before we prepare to port. If you must, go and relay that to Mr. Blackstone, would you?”

His head bobbed again, a hint of color returning to his cheeks. “Of course, Captain. My apologies, Captain. Finish your conversation. We will…continue to await your orders. Captain.” He spun ‘round on his heel, shaking his head and muttering to himself as he stalked away.

I looked to find an outright grin pasted onto Keaton’s lips. His eyes twinkled ever so gently with mirth and amusement. It was good to see him so lively. If only I knew what would keep him in that state.

“I think he likes you.”

I snorted, dismissing his comment. “I intimidate him, is all.”

“Because he likes you.”

I peered down at my impertinent friend with narrowed eyes. “And you know the boy’s innermost secrets how?”

“I was a boy once myself, you know. I can tell when a lad carries a torch for a lass.”

“Now I know you’re joking with me, Keaton. Not only does that adolescent child not “carry a torch” for me, who is not a wee lass, but you wouldn’t know love from hate if it slapped you in the face.”

“Probably because love wouldn’t slap a person.”

And this discussion was getting me nowhere.

#2 One of my favorite scenes from The Gift of Her Heart! It's super long, so you can read it here! The Gift is the funniest thing I have EVER written, so I suggest you check out the full story here to read all of the laugh-out-loud and passionate moments!

#3 This is the funniest scene in Held Captive. What's funny is that isn't not that funny. LOL! I don't have a lot of laugh-out-loud moments in HC. However, when I went back and updated this scene back in 2020, a few more statements gave it a few amusing qualities.

Oh, but I didn’t want to wake up. Not when I was having the most splendid of dreams. An angel was holding me. One of those strong, handsome, winged creatures I had heard people talk about every once and awhile. I’d had no idea what could ever fit their description of something so wonderful, but now, in the arms of one that very moment, I could understand.

And this angel smelled wonderful, like limes and coconuts and goodness. With a moan, I snuggled closer to this angel, nuzzling into his side.

Softly, I heard my angel chuckle, and oh, but it was a glorious sound!

But slowly, my eye opened, and I knew my dream was coming to an end…

Especially when I looked up to see Xavier Bennet. Dash it all! I knew angels were too good to be true. Immediately I jerked up, hating the realization that I, Rina Blackstone, had willingly enjoyed laying in Xavier Bennet’s arms. And very muscular arms they were, but that was of no matter.

Unfortunately, the very second I attempted to move, a sharp pain struck through my skull while Bennet held me in place. I reached up to feel my head, searching for a bump or bandage, only to draw my hand back and look directly at blood.

Now that got my attention. My eye wide, I sat up, no longer caring if Bennet was holding me, and struck him. “What in the deuce did you do to me?” I exclaimed, ready to hit him again just for the pure pleasure of it. Even if a mere slap couldn’t do much good. What I wouldn’t give for a cutlass. Or a pistol. Or just a little knife.

#4 Believe it or not, Prisoner at Heart wasn't very funny either. I'm not a comedic writer, y'all. Anyway, this was the funniest scene I could find. Rina and Kit have some fun banter that I just can't get enough of! I wish I had more interaction between Rina and Kit.

“Looking for Xavier?”

I spun around at the voice. And instantly regretted it. My vision blurred, my head swam. I lost my balance, tripped over my right foot, caught myself on the step beneath me with my left.

Dash it. I’d have to watch myself.

I raised a hand to my eyes, rubbing away the sleep and fuzziness, then jammed my fingers through my tangled hair. “Aye. Have you any idea where he is?”

The person above me came into clear view, nodding with complete nonchalance and not even a shred of concern for the pregnant cousin of his who’d nearly fallen to her death. “Graveyard.”

Kit must’ve read my thoughts. Or perhaps he realized that his lack of concern was about to land him in that very place.

“Xavier’s at the graveyard, Rina.” Kit waved a hand in front of my face, and I quickly reared back, snapped at his outstretched fingers. He stumbled back in surprise, the look on his face nothing short of hilarious.

I choked on a laugh, and only then did his words register in my mind. “What’s he doing there?”

Kit shrugged, his eyebrows lowering along with his shock. “When he and his family would come for Christmas—before he ended up spending it on a pirate ship, you see”—he gave me a wink, one side of his mouth quirked up—“his father would always go to graveyard with him on Christmas eve. Don’t know why. Never asked, but Papa would know. If you’d get yourself some proper clothes on, you would probably be able to make it there before he comes back.” He took in my dressing gown and the night-dress beneath it, both of which doing nothing to hide the swollen figure a good waistcoat had once concealed.

I rolled my eyes as the man’s impertinence, but didn’t bother scolding him. I’d known Kit for years, and not once had he given me anything more than a cursory glance or spoken more than a sentence at a time.

He really was harmless, despite it all.

I hope y'all enjoyed these fun excerpts! If you haven't gotten a copy of my books, you can here!

Excerpts from Bound and Determined, The Gift of Her Heart, Held Captive, and Prisoner at Heart: Copyright © 2019-21 Grace A. Johnson. All rights reserved.

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