Archive for the ‘Novel excerpt’ Category

Today’s teaser is from It’s Complicated. I wrote this just yesterday so it’s a little rough, but I thought you all would enjoy something from further into the story. Not exactly sure where this is going to go, but that’s half the fun. 🙂 Hope you enjoy!

Aidan smiled when he saw me and waved me over.  I hurried over, trying to ignore the horses that were tied everywhere.  If I pretended they weren’t there, I could get through.
            When I reached him, he asked, “You okay?”
            I tugged my t-shirt down.  “Perfect.  Did I make it in time?”
            “Just. He’s up next.” He led me through the groups of people so I didn’t get lost.  Or panic and bolt, I thought when a horse poked it’s head near my head and snorted.  I jumped and clung to Aidan, who laughed, but moved faster.
            Why did I come again?  Oh yeah, because Sloan deserved to have someone he knew watch him win.  Just because Maggie and my dad couldn’t be there for him, didn’t mean I couldn’t be. 
            We stopped at the fence and watched, as the horse Sloan would be riding was loaded into the chute.  Then Sloan settled himself on top and was prepped by his and the horses handlers. 
            He glanced over toward Aidan and smiled, but it slid off his face when he saw me.  His eyes widened, but before he could say anything the gate opened and the horse ran straight out into the arena, bucking the whole way.  Unfortunately, Sloan hadn’t been ready and he’d been tossed to the ground within moments of leaving the gate. 
            My heart leaped into my throat as the horse reared and came way too close to stomping on him, but he got up immediately while the wranglers soothed the horse and brought him back in.  Sloan on the other hand brushed off his hat and stomped over to me. When he reached me, he grabbed the upper part of my arm and dragged me along behind him. 
            Even though I’d dug my heels in, he was able to pull me out of the arena, past the livestock pens, and into a shaded spot that was away from the main drag. 
            I yanked out of his grasp and rubbed at my arm.  I was so angry I couldn’t form the words to tell him off. 
“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?  You made me lose!” He glared at me, taking a step closer.
“I made you lose?! No, you did that on your own. You’re the one who fell. I did nothing but watch,” I said.  My back hit the wall behind me and I realized I’d backed up away from him.  Refusing to let him scare me, I set my feet shoulder width apart and stared him down.  But my eyes wanted to do a study of him and make sure he was all right.  He’d taken such a hard fall.
            “If it hadn’t been for you watching me, I wouldn’t have fallen.  Why are you here?” He took another step closer.  His toes bumped mine and he put his face into mine.
            I shoved my hair away from my face.  “I came to see you win.  What did it look like?  I knew you were disappointed that Maggie and my dad couldn’t come watch, so I came.  But don’t worry about it.  I won’t do it–”
            I was cut off when his mouth came down on top of mine.  At first I was frozen in place, but before long my eyes fluttered closed and I brought my arms up around his neck.  He made a sound that was a cross between a groan and a moan. His hands grabbed my hips and yanked my closer, pressing his body against mine.
            My head spun and my pulse bounded in my throat as he pulled back to give us a chance to take a breath, but I dragged him back to me again.  His mouth met mine and he pushed me so I crashed into the wall behind me.  My body was crushed between his and the wall, but I didn’t care.
            He moved his mouth to my throat and I tilted my head, enjoying the sensations of his tongue running down my neck and along my collarbone.  His hands slipped under my shirt, but stayed at my waist, his thumbs running circles over my skin and driving me crazy.
            As if from a fog I heard his name being called, but neither of us seemed to care.  When we heard it again, he groaned and pulled back, but only enough to look and see who was calling him.  A brief second later, he cursed, dropped his hands and took three huge steps backward.  I kept my eyes glued to the ground as my emotions and body tried to adjust itself to what had happened and what I needed to do now.

Read Full Post »

 Here’s an excerpt from my adult romance novel Maid of Honor.  It needs some work, but it should be good enough for a teaser.  Enjoy!

“God, I hate weddings,” Ariel proclaimed, tossing her controller on the bed. She watched as it bounced once, before switching the television off.
 The whole beautiful disaster that was flowers, and music, and what cake to have.  And don’t forget what color dress, and how to stand for this picture and that picture.  Ugh. It was just too much.  That is why I’m never going to do it.  They were just too much of a bother and God knew they never worked.  What were the recent statistics?  Over fifty-percent of all marriages failed?  Yeah.  No, thank you.
            “Well, it’s not your wedding, Ari,” Cat reminded her.  “It’s mine.”
            “Ah, yes, but as your maid of honor I’m expected to go through absolutely every awful stage of this thing with you.  You’re going to want to know if pink or red roses are better or should you hire a DJ or a band?  Sit down or buffet?  Not to mention the hours of invitation addressing.”  She shivered at the thought. “Then you’ll cry or scream at me when I don’t pick the one you wanted to begin with.”  She knew. She’d seen it before. 
How many times have I been a bridesmaid now?  She counted them quickly in her head.  Six, she’d been a bridesmaid six times in the last five years. What was that statement?  Always the bridesmaid, never the bride?  Not that she wanted to be the bride.
            Cat’s whispery laugh echoed through the phone lines. “I’m not going to be that bad.  Promise.  The whole big wedding is to appease our mothers anyway.  They’ve pretty much got the whole damned thing planned out for us.  So, please, please, please will you be my maid of honor?”
            Ari ran her ring-studded hand through her black hair. She hated it when Cat used that tone of voice.  It always crumbled her control.  “Damn it. I hate when you beg.  Fine. Fine.  When is it?” she asked.
            “In a month.”
            Ari’s jaw dropped.  “A month?  Are you crazy?  Why so soon?”
            There was a long pause, and then Cat asked, “Why not?”
            “Why not? I’ll tell you why not.  There is no physical way you can get everything taken care of in a month.  I can’t even comprehend the fact that you’re doing this but…wait…you’ve never rushed into anything in your life.  That’s my job.  Why so soon?” she asked again. 
            Cat sighed, making a sound like static on the phone line. “I just want to. Anyway, I’ll explain everything when you get here.  You’re coming for two weeks anyway.  Can’t you just extend the trip?”
            Knowing Cat could keep her mouth glued tightly shut when she wanted to, Ari glanced at her calendar.  She didn’t have anything pressing to do and her boss was harping on her to use up all her vacation time this year. She’d just have to see if she could use it all up at once.  “I don’t know. I’ll have to call my boss and find out.”
            “Great,” Cat said.  “Call me when you know. Toodle-loo.” She hung up, leaving Ari staring at the phone.  Why is she always doing that?  Back you into a corner until you had no choice but to agree, than leave you standing there to figure out the details on your own.
             Shaking her head, Ari punched in the numbers for her boss and crossed her fingers that she would side with her.
She should have known it, she thought, an hour later. Everyone is insane.  Who knew my bitch of a boss actually had a soft streak for weddings in that icy heart of hers? 
            “Go, go,” she’d said. “Weddings are fun.  So romantic.  Go and bring back lots of pictures. I just love weddings.”
            Damn it, Ari thought as she packed. The one person I’d hoped could stall the inevitable had failed me.  Now what? 
            Now, I fly to North Carolina and watch my best friend fall into the trap of Holy Matrimony.  Lovely, she thought with a grimace.
* * *
            Wonderful, Josh thought with a scowl, simply wonderful.  Not only had he gotten roped into marrying his best friend’s sister, now he had to go pick up her best friend from the damn airport. What did she have to come so early for, anyway? The damn circus–oh wait, that’s marriage, how could I forget?– isn’t for another month anyway
            He stared at his watch. The plane was late.  Figures. The damn things never came on time.  Especially when you needed them to.  He really didn’t have time for this.  He had other, more important, things to do.  Like supervise the construction on that pretty little Victorian he was restoring. 
            Idiots.  Who in their right mind would try to “modernize” a Victorian?  Well, at least with his restorations, the old lady would once again shine. Probably even before the wedding.
            He looked at his watch again.  Where the hell was that damn plane and how was he even supposed to recognize her?  All Cat had said was, “Pretty, with black hair and blue eyes. My height. Thin.”
            Nice description, Cat. How many thin women with black hair and blue eyes are going to get off that plane? He’d reserve judgment on the pretty part.  Most women thought their pals were pretty.  Didn’t mean they actually were.
            And what the hell kind of name was Ariel anyway?  Didn’t the mermaid have red hair?  And if she was named after Shakespeare’s Ariel, wasn’t he a guy? 
            Just then he saw a fairly attractive woman of about thirty with black hair step through security.  Straightening his shoulders he walked up to the woman, who was holding her bag to her body as if terrified that someone would steal it.
            “Hi. I’m Josh. Uh, Cat sent me instead of Connor.  I’ll take your bag for you,” he told the woman, who just kept staring at him like he’d lost his mind. He felt a hand on his arm and looked over to see another dark haired woman.
            He goggled at her.  She was simply stunning.  Her hair wasn’t really black, more of a sable, and there were yards of it.  Her eyes weren’t simply blue, either. They were cobalt and just as striking as the rest of her.  She was petite. A curvy five-two, he reckoned.  And all of it leg. 
            When she smiled he almost swallowed his tongue.  “Hi. I think you’re looking for me. I’m Ariel Sutherland.” 
            This was Ariel? She couldn’t have been older than twenty-five.  He turned away from the other woman who took off like a mouse who’d just escaped from being eaten.
            He grinned at Ariel causing her to blink. “Hi.  Josh Stanton.” He held out his hand and she took it without hesitation.  That is, until he brought it to his lips and kissed it. 
            She raised an eyebrow, trying to pull her hand away when she felt sparks shoot up her arm at his touch.  “You’re Cat’s fiancé, right?”
            He grimaced.  He’d forgotten for half a second he was engaged and wasn’t too happy she’d reminded him of it. “Yes,” he said and took her bag from her, slipping her arm through his. 
            She let him lead her to his car, but didn’t say thank you when he opened the door for her.  How rude, he thought, obviously manners weren’t something they taught in New York. He tossed her bags into the trunk and then drove away from the airport. She was staring out the window, but he could see her quite plainly glaring at his reflection.
            What the hell did I do? he asked himself. He tried a few more times to start a conversation, but she only ignored him or answered shortly, continuing to glare at him in the glass.
            Giving up, he drove the rest of the way in silence.  When they pulled into the driveway of Cat’s parents’ house, a beautiful old plantation home, she visibly relaxed. When she saw Cat, with her long blonde hair, blue eyes, and long, lean figure, waiting on the wrap-around porch, she started bouncing on the seat.  Weird woman, he thought, as she tore out of the car toward Cathy before he’d even put the car into park.
* * *
            God, what a creep, Ari thought, watching Josh on the other side of the dinner table.  The way he had stared at her in the airport should have been illegal.  It had made her blood pressure skyrocket before she’d reminded herself he was her best friend’s fiancé. 
            Well, to be truthful it wasn’t just his stare that had done it.  It was the thick wavy brown hair that had just begged for her to run her fingers through it and the eyes -the same color as her grandma’s prized jade elephant- that did nothing to detract from his tough, sharp jawed face. Even the small scar on the bridge of his nose was sexy.  She shivered, remembering how his eyes had clouded with just a hint of desire when they’d looked at her.
            Then, remembering, she scowled.  He was taken.  Not just taken, but taken by her best friend.  That louse, she decided.  Already fantasizing about other women and he isn’t even married yet.  Maybe he didn’t want to be married, she thought. 
            If he didn’t want to get married, why was he?  It’s not like he had to.  Even if Cat was pregnant it’s not as if her father would make them have a shotgun wedding.  She pursed her lips as she thought about it.  Maybe it was a shotgun wedding. This was the South, after all. She tried sneaking a glance at Cat’s stomach, surreptitiously.
            Idiot, Ari thought, shaking her head, she wouldn’t be showing yet
            The front door banged open and Connor, the male equivalent of his younger sister, Cat, slammed through. 
            “Well, really, Connor.  Can you make any more noise?” Amelia, Cat’s mother, demanded.
            He grinned at her. “Sorry,” he said, his blue eyes scanning the room until he saw Ariel sitting by his father, Colin.  His smile got larger and he leapt across the room in three large bounds, picking her up and kissing her soundly.
             “There you are, gorgeous.  How was your flight?” he said, oblivious to his mother’s shocked stare.
            Just fine,” Ari replied, ignoring his demonstration.  He’d done the same thing every time he’d seen her, ever since they’d dated five years earlier.
            “Connor, sit down this instant and leave Catherine’s guest alone,” Amelia said.
            He grinned again and sat in Ari’s chair, pulling her with him and into his lap.  His mother scowled at him, but he didn’t release her. “How’s my best girl?”
            “Perfect, now that you’re here,” she told him, glancing over at Cat who was grinning at her.  Cat was way too used to the openness of their friendship to be concerned. But when Ari looked over at Josh, he was scowling at her. 
            Wonder what got his nose out of joint, she thought, before turning back to Connor.  “So, what was so important that you couldn’t pick me up from the airport?” she asked.
            He smiled and whispered in her ear, “What else would keep me away?”
            Ari laughed, knowing the only thing that would keep him away would be another woman. 
* * *
            Josh sat on the front porch enjoying a cold beer.  One of those rare moments in his life he usually enjoyed.  The hot, muggy air and a cold beer. Listening to the cicadas croon along with the crickets.  Even the mosquitoes weren’t a bother tonight.  But, not even the calm of the evening could relax him tonight. He wasn’t enjoying the sounds of the cicadas or crickets and, while he appreciated the mosquitoes finding their dinner elsewhere, he really couldn’t have cared less. He was annoyed.  And that annoyance held a name, along with its shapely figure.  Ariel Sutherland. 
            His reaction to her was simply male hormones, he told himself.  What man wouldn’t want her? Jesus. She had legs up to her ears and her voice had poured through him like warm brandy on a cold night. If that didn’t set a man’s nerves to humming, nothing would.
            It wasn’t any of that that was bothering him.  No sir, it was how she’d responded to him.  Warm and friendly one minute. The ice-queen the next. And it was obvious that she only had a problem with him.  Look at the way she’d responded to Con.  No ice on her then.  Betcha he’s had a piece of her, Josh thought with a scowl. 
            So, what? It’s not like you’re interested.  She’s your fiancée’s best friend.  Shit, now how did that happen?  He was going to get married.  Not for another month, but he didn’t want to be married.  Never wanted to be married. He saw his parents’ marriage.  Not a marriage, a farce.  Not a very funny farce, though. More of a cataclysmic disaster.
            Why they still lived in the same house was beyond him.  It wasn’t sex that was for sure. As far as he could tell, they hadn’t so much as slept on the same side of the house since he was ten. 
            And now, he was letting them do what his father’s parents had done to his father.  Forcing him to marry someone he didn’t love all for the family name.  How pathetic.  He should have said no. He should have put his foot down. 
            But no, his mother and father had ganged up on him and he’d caved.
            “Joshua, you are thirty-three years old.  It is time you settled down and married.  Since you haven’t found someone suitable, we have found someone who is,” his mother, Debra, had told him.
            He’d laughed and poured more brandy. “Who do you believe is suitable, Mother?”
            “Catherine Kordovan,” she’d said with a smile.
            He’d set down his brandy with a snap of glass against wood.  “No, she’s one of my closest friends. Practically my sister.  I refuse to destroy her life, and our friendship like you and dad did.  For some stupid ideological bullshit about bloodlines and heirs.”
            His father stood up. “You will marry her or I’ll cut you off.  I’ll make sure that every trust fund you have is cut off and if it can’t be, it’ll spring a leak.  By the time you hit thirty-five it’ll all be gone. Then how are you going to fund your precious house-flipping business?”
            Knowing his father all too well, Josh knew he’d make good on the threat, so he’d agreed to the marriage. And he’d asked Cathy.  To his great surprise, she’d agreed.  Now they were to be married and he was miserable.
            He looked up when he heard laughter and saw Ari and Connor start up the walk from the gardens.  He had his arm around her and she was leaning into him, her face lifted to his, and her mind-blowing smile on her luscious lips. 
            Josh scowled into his drink before he could entertain any thoughts in that direction.  Nope, that would cut off his trust fund faster than refusing to get married.  She was exactly what his mother termed unsuitable.  Gorgeous, but unsuitable.  Any woman who looked like a Playboy pin-up had to be, didn’t she?
            Connor and Ari glanced over when they walked up to the porch and Connor stopped laughing.  “Hey, Josh, why the long face?” he asked.
            Josh looked up and over at Ariel pointedly. “No reason.”
            Ari laughed, knowing that she was the problem, and kissed Connor’s cheek. Serves him right, she thought.  “I’ll see you later, Connor,” she promised, and ignoring Josh completely, flounced into the house with hips swinging.           
            Connor stared after her, and then sighed and patted his heart. “I love being a man.” He sat down next to Josh.
            “Isn’t it hard to make time with her through all that ice?” Josh asked.
            “Ice? On Ari? Man, have you got it wrong,” Connor told him, stretching out.
            “She was nice enough when I first met her and, Jesus, her looks stab right through you, but the minute we hit the car she iced up.”
            “What did you do?” Connor asked, looking at him. “Ari’s the nicest woman I know.  Most are vindictive little wenches in pretty gift-wrap. Not our little Ari, though.  She’s as sweet as they come.”
            Josh snorted. “Yeah, right. I’ll believe that when I see it.”
            Connor twisted his body to look at him. “What did you do?” he repeated.
            “I didn’t do anything.”
            Connor laughed. “You did something.  Ari isn’t one to turn ice-bitch for no reason.”
            “She asked me if I was Cathy’s fiancé and I said yes.  That’s when she went all ice-queen on me.”
            “Connor?” Ari’s voice called out from the door.  “Your father wants you.”
            “Damn.  I’d better go,” Connor said jumping up.  “It’s probably to discuss the ‘business’ again. I really hate that.”
            Josh chuckled and waved his friend away.  He heard his footsteps go into the house, then Ariel’s as she walked on to the porch. “May I?” she asked, gesturing to the space beside him. She’d heard what he’d said about her and thought it better to try and be friends, at least until the wedding.  Then, she could forget all about him.
            When he shrugged, she sat next to him.  “It’s beautiful here. I keep forgetting that.”
            “So, you’ve been here before?”
            “Yes, I used to come with Cat on our school breaks.”
            “Didn’t want to go home?” he asked, rudely. When she didn’t respond he looked over and saw sadness on her face. 
            “No. I didn’t really have a home to go back to.  My parents died when I was three. Car accident.  My grandmother raised me, but she died right after I graduated high school.”
            Insensitive clod, he chided himself. Stepped in that one. Keep that up and she’ll never like you.  Not that he cared whether or not she did.  “Sorry.”
            She turned her face to him and smiled. His breath caught in his throat and he had to turn away so he could breathe again. “It’s okay. I don’t really remember my parents.  And it’s been almost ten years since Nana died. It’s just a bittersweet memory now. I miss her though.  She was an awesome woman,” she told him.
            “Ten years?  How old are you?”
            He spun around to stare at her. “You graduated high school at fifteen?”
            She smiled and his heart skipped a beat.  “Yeah, I’m a good student. My grandmother pushed me, but not too much.  I was the one who decided to go as fast as I did.  I preferred it.  I wasn’t really good around other people so I studied,” she said, shrugging.
            He stared out over the backyard, trying to control the hormones surging through his body. What is with that smile? It should be banned as an illegal substance.  “It was good of you to agree to be her maid of honor,” he finally managed. 
            She frowned. “I guess. I’m not into the whole let’s-go-crazy-and-spend-the-rest-of-our-lives-together, thing. Usually ends up in divorce.
            Boy, did he agree with that. “Or worse,” he muttered.
            She looked over at him, her cobalt eyes searching his face. “Or worse,” she agreed. 
            “Yet, here you are,” he pointed out.
            “She’s my best friend.  There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for her.”
            They were silent again, then she blurted out, “Did you knock her up?

Read Full Post »

This is an excerpt from my latest WIP.  It’s about a girl from Wisconsin, who moves down to be with her father in Florida who just remarried.  Now she has to adjust to living in a new place, with her step mother and step brother, let’s see how she does, shall we?   
Please note that this is a really rough draft.  There are–I’m sure–grammatical errors and it needs a lot of fluff and the characters need more development, but you’ll get the general idea. 🙂
They always tell you that the world is your oyster, but they never said anything about the pearl.  And really what was a pearl except for a small irritation that turned into something so precious and rare, millions sought after it.  The same can be said about love.
            Why that thought ran through my head as I boarded the plane to go to my father’s house, I didn’t know, but it was a nice thought anyway.  The plane was filling quickly with people and I doubted the seat next to me would remain empty for very long.  Bored, I looked around at my fellow passengers, but stopped when I saw a boy, about my age, two rows back on the opposite side.  His sun-streaked brown hair was a disheveled mess on top of his head, but in such a way that I knew it was done on purpose.  He had a set of headphones in his ears and he bobbed his head as he rooted around in his bag. 
            He must’ve felt me staring at him, because he looked up and then glanced around until he saw me.  He lifted one brow and returned my gaze, which made my heart stutter, but I didn’t look away.  Instead I smiled, and gave him a little finger wave.  He gave me a lopsided grin in return, showing off the dimple on the right side.
            A man wearing blue jeans, a blue and white-stripped shirt and suspenders stepped in front of me, blocking my view.  I let my gaze drift upward and groaned inwardly when the man smiled at me, showing yellowed and missing teeth.  His face was dark with the stubble of his unkempt beard and even with the space of the seat between us, I could smell a mixture of sweat and something worse I couldn’t place.  I fought the urge to cover my nose, and breathed through my mouth instead.  It didn’t really help.
            “Hi there, little missy,” the man said.
            I gave him a weak smile and nodded instead of answering.
            “Is this seat taken?”
            I stared at him.  I didn’t know what to do.  If I told him yes and then no one showed up, he’d get angry and I didn’t know what would happen.  On the other hand, if I said no, I’d be stuck not being able to breath for the whole trip.  I cursed my mother for being cheap and buying me a ticket on the one airline that let you choose your own seats. 
            I was saved from answering when a male voice said, “Yes it is.”  Suspender man and I turned toward the voice, and the boy that had been across from me smiled.  “I was afraid I wasn’t going to find you, Sweetheart.” 
Sweetheart?  I raised a brow, but played along.  “I was getting worried, too.  You’re very late.  I thought maybe you were going to miss the flight.”
Amusement shown in his eyes as he turned to Suspender Man, gave a quick nod of his head and slipped into the seat next to me, before he kissed my cheek and went back to rooting around in his backpack. 
Suspender man stared at me for a moment before lumbering off and finding a seat elsewhere.  I felt bad for whoever would have to sit next to him, but was happy that it wouldn’t be me.
My cheek was still warm where the boy had kissed me and I lay my hand against it, absently.  “Thank you.”
He grinned and the dimple flashed again.  “Not a problem.  But now you owe me a favor.”
I chuckled.  “A favor?”
“Yep.  The damsel in distress always grants the knight in shinning armor a favor.”
“I see.  Okay.  So, what favor is it that I owe you?”
“Your name.”
“My name?”  I’d been expecting a kiss or something and this had thrown me completely off balance.
“Yep.  Unless of course you want me to continue to call you sweetheart.”
I mentally shook myself to get my mind flowing properly.  “Mackenzie, but I go by Mac.”
“Well, Mac, I’m Sloan and I’ll be providing the entertainment for today’s flight.”
I did the one thing I promised myself I’d never do because of a boy.  I couldn’t help it.  I giggled.  “Pleased to meet you.”
He set his bag under the seat in front of him, but didn’t read the book he’d pulled out.  Instead he tapped it against his knee as he stared at me and I noticed his eyes were a tawny brown and matched his bronzed skin perfectly.  I’d heard eyes could be that color, but had never actually seen it. 
Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “You have beautiful eyes.”
He winced.  “Thanks,” he said, and turned his attention to his book.
Cursing myself for not having control of my brain-mouth function, I watched out the window until the plane had taken off, the attendants did their thing, and the seatbelt light had flicked off before finding the courage to apologize. 
“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
He slid his finger between the pages before speaking.  “It’s alright.  Everyone always comments on my eyes.  I should be used to it by now.”
He went back to the book, but I wasn’t going to give up just yet.  “I get it all the time, too.”
He glanced up, narrowed his eyes, and then smiled.  “I’ll bet you do.  What color are they?  Blue?  Or purple?”
I shrugged up, but lowered my head and peered up at him through my lashes, fluttering them slightly.  “Depends on my mood.  Right now, I’d say blue, but if you make me angry you’ll get to see purple.”
He dog-eared a page and slid the book between him and the seat.  “So what’s the quickest way to make you angry?”
I grinned and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.  “Fortunately there isn’t much.  I’m pretty even tempered.  Unlike my mom.” I rolled my eyes.  “She’s part Irish and has the famous temper.”
“Sounds like my dad,” he said.  “He’s got a wicked temper.  That’s why my parents split.”
I nodded in complete agreement.  “Yep.  Same here.   My mom has a way of turning any argument around on you.”
            He turned in his seat slightly, lifting the armrest between us so he could rest his leg on the seat.  “Your parents divorced too?”
            I turned to face him and our legs bumped.  “Uh, huh.  I’m going to visit my dad.  He just got remarried. I couldn’t make it for the wedding.  I’d have missed a week of school and my mom put her foot down.”
            “You, too, huh?  Must be something in the air.”  He rolled his eyes.  “My mom just got remarried.  I went to my dad’s while they went on their honeymoon and then my mom thought it would be a good idea to spend the summer with him, to get to know him better.”
            “I take it you didn’t want to go,” I said, noticing the look he’d had when he said it.
            “No, I didn’t.  I wanted to stay at home, but he—my stepdad—thought I should go see my dad and convinced my mom I should too.  So, I was shipped off without even a backward glance,” he said.
            “You don’t like your dad?”
            “No.”  It was said bluntly, without even a hint of emotion in it. 
            I wanted to know more, but knew it was better to wait until he volunteered the information.  If he did, that was.  “I’m sorry.” 
I moved to look back out the window, but he asked, “Do you like your dad?”
I smiled as memories of being pushed on swings and playing baseball in the backyard came to mind.  “Oh yeah.  He’s the best.  I don’t blame him for leaving.  My mom can be a real pain.”
            “So, why don’t you live with him instead of her?”
            I wrinkled my nose.  “School.  My mom didn’t want me taken out before the end of the year. And then she wanted me to stay with her for the summer, but I ‘intruded on her social life’, so she decided to let me have my way and move back with my dad.”
            “So, you’re moving to be with him now?”
            I shrugged.  “Yeah.  I’m hoping it works out.”
            He frowned.  “If he’s that great, why wouldn’t it work out?”
            I made a face.  “My new stepmom.”
            “What’s wrong with her?”
            “Besides the fact that she’s with my dad?”
            He laughed.  “Yeah, besides that.”
            “She took my dad from me,” I mumbled and started down at my hands, which I’d clasped in my lap.
            “What do you mean?”
            “I used to live with him, but then he met this woman at some conference and a few months later he’s moving down to be with her and I’m being shoved at my mom so I can finish school.”  My teeth clenched toward the end, and I had to force my jaw open to finish.
            “Why didn’t she move up to where you lived?”
            “Because she’s a selfish blonde bimbo,” I said with a shrug.
            “What?  Why do you say that?”
“She refused to leave. So he left me to be with her.  He left everything to be with her.”
            “That sucks,” he said, but smiled up as the flight attendant asked if we wanted something to drink.  He waited until she brought us our soda and then leaned over to me again.  “I’m sorry.”
            I shrugged.  “Nothing I can do about it.”
            “My mom got married pretty quickly too, but we didn’t have to move.  Not that she would have.  Our house has been a part of our family for generations. He moved in with us.  She met him at work.”
            “So, how come you don’t like him?”
             “Besides he married my mom?” he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
            I laughed, despite myself.  “Yeah, besides that.”
            “He’s a jerk. And he’s got city written all over him.”  He sneered at the word city.
            I crossed my arms over my chest.  “What’s wrong with the city?”
            He chuckled.   “I take it you’re a city girl.”
            “And proud of it,” I said, my own smile tickling the corners of my mouth, despite the slight feeling of insult his comment had given me.
            He tapped his book on his knee again.  “I didn’t mean to insult you.  It’s just that he thinks because he lived in the city he’s better and smarter than me.  He treats me like a kid and is constantly telling me what to do, how to behave.  He pretends to take an interest in my grades, but he only uses it to rub it into my face that his daughter is smarter than me and I should be like her.”
            My heart broke a little and I reached over and patted his hand.  “I’m sorry.  I can’t imagine how that made you feel.”
            He went on as if he hadn’t heard me.  “Worst of all, he’s trying to be my dad.”
I cocked my head to the side.  “Why is that last one a problem?  He is, sort of.  Isn’t he?”
            “No, he’s not.  He’s just the man my mother married.  He’s nothing to me.  Therefore he can’t tell me what to do.”
            Knowing how he felt, I nodded.  “Yeah, agree completely.  What is it with stepparents?  Why do they think they can just step in and take over?”
            He shrugged.  “I don’t know. And my mom expects me to just listen to him. I don’t even know him.  Or his stupid goody two shoes of a daughter.  And to make matters worse he wants to get me into baseball and football.”  He made a face.
            I had to laugh.  “Well, don’t you want to do those things?  I thought all boys liked sports.”
            “I do like sports, but I prefer rodeo type sports.”
            It was my turn to be surprised.  He didn’t look like a cowboy.  Didn’t cowboys wear those big hats?  “Rodeo?  Like with cows and horses and stuff?”
            He smiled.  “Yeah.  I do calf roping and saddle bronc riding.”
            I swallowed as an image of him hanging on for dear life to a bucking horse filled my head.  Just the idea of getting onto a horse made my skin crawl. “And you’d rather do that than football?”
            He chuckled.  “Yeah. There’s nothing like it in the world.”
            “But isn’t that dangerous.”
            “Yeah, but that’s part of the thrill.”
            “I’ll just take your word for it.  I don’t think I want to know that kind of thrill.”
            He sent me a wicked look.  “I bet I could change your mind.”           
The corners of my mouth lifted a fraction.  “Uh, huh.  And how do you suppose you’ll do that?”
            He shrugged.  “Where in Florida are you moving to?”
            I scoured my mind for the name of the town.  “Geneva?  I think.”
            His whole face lit up.  “Yeah?  I live out there.  Going to Oviedo High?”
            Since it sounded familiar, I nodded.  “I think so.”
            “Awesome!” He bent over and yanked out his bag and yanked out his iPhone.  “What’s your number?  We’ll hang out and I’ll introduce you to my friends.  That way when school starts you won’t be the odd man out.”
            I nodded and a few of my fears about the move disappeared.  I rattled off my number as I reached for my purse to pull out my own phone, and then programmed his number into it.
            When we’d replaced our phones, he smiled and then tugged on a handful of hair that had escaped my braid.  “You called your step mom a blonde bimbo, but you have blonde hair.  Isn’t that insulting yourself?”
            I thought on it and then shrugged.  “Okay, she’s just a bimbo then.”
            He laughed and then changed the subject.  We spent the rest of the flight talking about the school, his friends, and the ranch he lived on.
            When we landed, he led the way to the trams and then past security, since he knew his way around and I didn’t.  On the other side, he smiled and waved when he saw his mom.  She was only slightly taller than me and looked like a doll.  Her mouth was a pretty pink and matched her nails perfectly.  Her eyes were the same color as her son’s and even more startling with her roses and cream complexion.
            She didn’t even notice me behind him as she swept him up into her arms and pressed a kiss to his check, smearing her lipstick across his skin.  He wiped it off with his sleeve and then turned to me.  “Mom.  This is Mac.  She’s moving here with her dad.  She’ll be going to my school.”
            She turned to me, and the smile faded.  Her lips formed a small “o” as her eyes widened, but before I could wonder about it, my dad’s voice boomed my name and I turned with a huge smile on my face.
            He picked me up and swung me in a circle before pulling me closer for his famous bear hugs.  He set me on my feet, but held me at arms length.  “Well, look at you.  You’re even prettier than when I left.”
            I grinned.  “Thanks, Daddy.” He let go and I turned around to introduce him to Sloan, but stopped when I saw the expression on Sloan’s face.  “What’s wrong?”
              He didn’t respond.  Instead he rolled his eyes, tossed his bag onto his back again, and tromped off toward the exit.  I raised my eyebrows and looked to his mom.  “What did I do?”
            She gave me a forced smile as my father stepped over to her, and when he slipped his hand into hers, the light bulb went off on top of my head.
 Sloan’s mother was my new stepmother.  Which meant Sloan was now my stepbrother.

Read Full Post »

Well I thought I’d share one of the new scenes I added for Mirror Image.  Next week I hope to have my teasers from my new WIP up.  Hope you enjoy.

I started avoiding any and all mirrors and reflective surfaces and it wasn’t long before all of my friends had noticed my odd behavior, but everyone–besides Ty–seemed to think my hang up on mirrors was due to the injuries I had. 
            Carly and Leah tried several times to convince me it wasn’t as bad as I thought, and even Noah and Owen would go out of their way to tell me how pretty I was.  In an effort to distract me, Leah had come up with a plan to go to the carnival that was down the street and Ty agreed it was a good idea so we all trooped down the street.
We walked around the fair, deciding what ride to hit next.  Ty wanted something gentle so I could go with, but I didn’t really care.  I just enjoyed getting out of the hotel.  When we stopped outside the house of mirrors, Ty glanced over at me and a strange look passed over his face. 
            “Come on, we’ll go in here,” he said, watching me carefully.
            A wave of panic rushed through me and I stopped in my tracks.  “No.”
            He leaned down to whisper in my ear, “Lily, he’s not real.  You need to face this.  It’ll never go away if you keep letting it bother you.”
            “No.  I don’t want to go in there.”  I started to feel sick to my stomach and dizzy as my heart rate picked up.  A sure sign of an oncoming panic attack.
            The others had stopped to see why we had and Leah said, “Ty, if she doesn’t want to go, don’t force her.”  She watched me carefully and twisted the strap of her purse in her hands.
            He sent her a look, but didn’t say anything before turning back to me.  “You can do this, Lil.  I’ll be with you the whole time.  You just need to prove to yourself he doesn’t exist.  I know you can do this.”
            I closed my eyes.  He was right.  Jackson didn’t exist and I needed to face this.  I couldn’t just keep avoiding mirrors for the rest of my life.  When I opened my eyes, I nodded. “Alright, but don’t leave me.  Okay?”
            “Never,” he promised and slipped an arm around my shoulder to lead me into the attraction.
            Leah reached out and tugged on my arm.  “You don’t have to do this, Hun.  You can wait until you heal.  There’s no need to rush into this and make it worse,” she said, her narrowed eyes on Ty.
            Ty made a growling sound in his throat, but otherwise said nothing.  I smiled at her, conveying my thanks, but shook my head, even as butterflies flew around in my belly making me feel even sicker.  “No.  This is something I have to do.  For me.”
            She watched me, then nodded and let go.  She gave one last glare to Ty and then stepped back to follow us into the building. 
            Ty kept a tight grip on me as I shook, but I forced myself to look in every mirror we passed. 
Jackson never appeared.
Eventually, I relaxed enough to let go of Ty and wander to a few mirrors on my own, laughing at how silly I looked.
            I moved from mirror to mirror, feeling lighter than I had in days.  I was over it.  I was fine.  No, I was ecstatic. Jackson didn’t exist and I wasn’t going crazy. Thank God.
When I got to a mirror that made me look not only short and fat, but made my face look all squished and gnome-like, I giggled and turned to get Ty’s attention.  But he wasn’t near me.  In fact, no one was. 
            Cursing myself for not paying attention, I tried backtracking to locate my group, but only succeeded in getting myself more lost.  So, I stopped and tried to think about the way I’d come and how to get back, but tingles of panic started to creep in. I’d been so focused on the mirrors I didn’t remember the path I’d taken.  And where the hell was Ty?  He’d promised he wouldn’t leave me.
            I debated calling for help, but decided that would only make me look stupid. I looked up and saw Jackson’s sad eyes staring back at me.  My heart leaped into my throat and my feet froze to the floor.  This isn’t happening.  This isn’t happening, I thought over and over. 
            He reached out to the glass, and mouthed, “Please.”
            I shook my head rapidly.  “No,” I whispered, backing up.  I bumped into another mirror and turned around, only to see him staring back at me from this one instead.  I spun again, and again, but no matter where I turned, there he was. 
            Oh God, this can’t be happening.  It isn’t real.  He doesn’t exist.
            “Please,” he repeated, his eyes turning even sadder.  “I won’t hurt you.”
            “No!” I screamed, squeezing my eyes tightly shut.  I dropped to my knees and slapped my hands over my ears as my screams echoed back to me. My heart felt as if it were trying to escape from my chest as Tyler raced to where I was. 
My eyes flew open when he grabbed a hold of me and pulled me into his chest.  I clung to him, but it still didn’t help much.
            “Lily!  What’s wrong?  What happened?” he demanded, but I couldn’t tell him.  I couldn’t get words to form coherently.  I could only babble things that didn’t make sense even to me.
            Leah ran in next and stopped when she saw me. She dropped down next to me and tried pulling from Tyler, but he held tight. She glared at him.  “I knew this was a bad idea.  You stupid son of a–”
            “Now’s not the time,” he said, cutting her off.  He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Was it another hallucination?”  I could only nod once before I sobbed and buried my face into his chest.  “Oh, man, Lily.  I’m so sorry.  I didn’t know.  I didn’t realize.  I’m sorry.”  He encircled my waist with his arm and, ignoring all the people who’d come running, led me back to the hotel and to his car, apologizing the whole time.
 I curled up into a ball in his passenger seat, making mewling sounds in my throat. He took me straight to my parent’s house, checking on me constantly as I trembled and rocked.
            He rushed me inside and my mom turned from the sink with a smile when she heard us.  “You two are back early…” she trailed off when she saw me.  “What happened?”
            “She’s seeing things.  A boy.  In mirrors,” Ty said, keeping his arm firmly around me as I trembled harder. 
Dishes clattered in the sink as she rushed over to me.  She placed the back of her hand on my forehead and looked into my eyes.  “How long?”
“Since the accident.  I think something’s wrong with me,” I finally managed.  Hot tears poured out of my eyes and she wrapped her arms around me as my father, who’d been listening from his seat at the table, called the hospital.

Read Full Post »

Well we’ve had a slight change of plans.  Today I’ll be interviewing Lynn Rush. 
BIO:  Lynn Rush began her writing career in 2008, since then producing thirteen paranormal romance novels.
She enjoys posting to her blog, Light of Truth (http://lynnrush.wordpress.com/), six days a week and actively participating in FaceBook and Twitter.
She is actively involved with Romance Writers of America (RWA) and its special interest chapter Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal (FF&P) and American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW.)
 Lynn has both an undergraduate and graduate degree in the mental health field and has enjoyed applying that unique knowledge to developing interesting characters. She is a member of two online critique groups, comprised of both published and unpublished authors, specifically focusing on fiction for the younger adult. In addition, she enjoys volunteering in her church bookstore.
When Lynn’s not writing, she spends time enjoying the Arizona sunshine by road biking with her husband of thirteen years and going on five-mile jogs with her loveable Shetland Sheep dogs. She always makes time to read a good speculative fiction novel, her favorites being Ted Dekker, Frank Peretti, PC Cast, and Stephanie Meyer.
Lynn, thank you for joining us today.  First I’d like to congratulate you on not only winning the Write Your Name Across the Sky Author Contest for 2009, but also securing a publishing contract AND obtaining a wonderful agent!
JS:  When did you begin writing, and did you always envision being an author?
LR:  I didn’t really start writing until a few years ago. Way back, around 2002-ish I had a little idea and did a little jotting down (by hand) in a little notebook on lunch breaks. But I was totally just goofing around. I lost the notebook, never really gave it much thought after a while.
See—I’d never wanted to be a writer. Heck, I hated reading, how could I ever be a writer, right?
Yeah. Blame the not liking to read thing on graduate school…ugh, reading all those textbooks would kill anyone’s desire to read EVER again. Just kidding (well, sort of.)
No. It was back in summer of 2007 that I decided to get Light of Truth (first book ever) on the computer. Finished it November 2007 but had NO clue what to do next. So, I joined ACFW (American Christian Fiction Writers) in May 2008 and got into my first crit group.
After that, the stories flowed, and I’ve written 13 novels since then.
JS:  What have been the most rewarding aspects of being a writer?
LR:  Meeting so many amazing people has to be the first one. The second would be, learning a new skill. I never took a writing class or anything before I started writing, so I learned as I went (as evidenced by the first couple books, which will probably never leave the shelf…LOL.) There are a bunch more rewarding aspects, but the last one I’ll mention is how much fun I have losing myself in the worlds and characters I create. It’s so much fun to laugh and cry with them and torture them with crazy obstacles to overcome!
JS:  The most challenging?
LR:  Hmmm, not really sure. I don’t see much of anything that’s challenging, probably because I never really expected it to go anywhere. I guess the waiting can get tough sometimes. There are often long waits associated with agents, editors, and even contest results.
Oh—wait—I thought of one. . . A challenge is the cost of it all. Money-wise, it’s expensive to go to conferences and buy learning-the-craft books. It can get costly. So I’d say that was a challenge. 
JS:  Tell me a little about Violet Midnight.
LR:  It’s the fourth book I ever wrote and one of my favorite characters. I even had Emma host my blog for a week recently. She’s just so fun. Tough, yet broken. Oh, but can she kick some demon butt!!
The easiest way for me to describe the book is to share the back cover blurb with you. Is that okay?
The blurb:
Three years ago, Emma Martin awoke in a hospital, forever changed. Her brown eyes turned violet, and she had a mysterious tattoo on the inside of her wrist. With the help of Gabriel, a mentor turned love interest, she discovered she was a hunter of the undead. After he’s brutally killed by the very evil he trained her to vanquish, she rejects her calling and seeks out a new life.
Emma pursues a normal existence by attending college. Hiding her unique powers proves difficult because the mystical tattoo on her wrist burns when evil is near, and the heat does not dissipate until the evil is vanquished.
When Jacob Cunningham witnesses Emma using her powers and isn’t afraid, the walls she’s erected around her come crashing down. Her draw to him is intense, but she’s not sure she can trust him with her secrets or her heart.
JS:  Can you tell us a little more about how you conceived the story of Violet Midnight?
LR:  Much like how I came up with all my novels, I woke up one day with an idea. Maybe it was a dream that I didn’t remember having, but I just woke up one day and started writing. It’s been that way with almost all my novels.
The writing starts with what’s called a mind map. It’s just like an organized form of free thought. In the center of the page I had “Emma Martin” in a circle, then started drawing lines out from it with ideas, obstacles, etc.
As I wrote, the rest just kinda fell into place.  J
JS:  When you write, do you always know where you are going, or do your characters lead you in their own directions?
I RARELY know where I’m going with a story. My characters pretty much drive my stories.
LR:  What advice do you give to budding writers?
Write on. Yep—I often put that down when I comment on blogs or Facebook status’ because it’s true. Just write on. Keep going. When you’re waiting for a response from an editor/agent/whoever-write. When you’re waiting in the doctor’s office-write. When you’re waiting—okay, you get the idea. Any free moment you find-write. J
JS:   What were some of your favorite books when you were growing up?
LR:  Ahhh—I hate this question. J I see it asked all the time on blogs and such, and technically, it’s a really great question. But for me…I really don’t have a favorite, because I didn’t grow up reading. I watched a ton of movies, though. Like all the sci-fi and paranormal-type movies. Probably where a bunch of my ideas started percolating, huh?
Heck, I read Frank Peretti’s book, “This Present Darkness” and “Piercing The Darkness” April of 2006 and that’s when I really started reading.
After Peretti, I fell in love with Ted Dekker’s books, and then found Charlaine Harris, PC Cast and Stephanie Meyer. So I really don’t have a long track record of reading, that’s for sure.
JS:  What’s a typical day like for you?
LR:  I’m a creature of habit, that’s fore sure. Get up around 5-ish, do a quick Bible devotion, go running or biking, do some writing, go to the day job (write over my lunch break), then come home and cook dinner for me and my sweet hubby, then write the rest of the night.
I’m sooooo boring—ask anyone.
My weekends pretty much look the same, but instead of going to the day job, I write. J
JS:  How long does it generally take to write one of your novels?
LR:  About 7-21 days, depending on the circumstances. When I was unemployed for four months, I wrote four novels. Each took about 7 or 8 days. But that’s writing full-time. When I’m working a day job, it takes about two to three weeks, depending on how full my weekends are.
Now remember, that first draft is a mega rough draft. The real fun starts during the edits.  J
JS:  How many have you written?
LR:  Can you tell us more about your journey?  (How did you find out about the contest?  How did you find your agent?  How long you’ve been writing, etc.)
I found out about the contest on the FF&P loop (Romance Writers Association’s Futuristic, Fantasy, and Paranormal group). So, I checked it out, sent in my entry, and let me tell you NO ONE was more shocked than me to see Violet Midnight won!
I still can’t believe it sometimes and I’ve even seen the book cover for Violet Midnight!!
Within three days of learning about the contest win, I signed with Super-Agent Cari Foulk from Tribe Literary Agency. I found TribeLit by following them on Twitter. I loved what they and some of their authors tweeted about, so I queried her. My writer friend, Frank Redman, was represented by her as well. So it all came together through a query and a referral!!
JS:  Is there anything else you’d like to say?
LR:  Write on!
No, seriously, thanks for interviewing me. This was fun.
Thanks again for taking the time for this interview and good luck with your first book.  Make sure to keep us all informed so we know where and when to buy it!
If anyone is interested in doing an interview with me, please feel free to contact me at j.souders (@) jasouders (.) com.  

Read Full Post »

Here’s the first chapter of my current WIP, tentatively titled SPIRIT DETECTIVE.  I started it a while ago, but put it off to the side to write MIRROR, but it’s calling to me again so I thought I’d pull it out and see what people thought.  It’s rough as it only has the bare minimum of editing done, but hopefully that won’t detract.

Blurb:  I don’t have a blurb yet.  Sorry.  

My heart accelerated in my chest as I stood looking at the abandoned house in front of me. Simply put, it was falling apart.  Most of the windows were broken, their dark depths imploring me to follow my instincts and leave.  The paint was peeling and chipping, revealing the termite riddled wood beneath it.  The once white porch sagged and groaned under my feet, begging me to leave.  The door was broken and tilted at an odd angle, leaving the house open to the elements.  The ripped screen door squealed as it opened as if some unseen person was inviting me in.
            Just step in Rowena, I told myself with a quick glance over my shoulders.  My best friend, Lucas stood at the end of the cracked sidewalk where the squeaky gate for the splintered picket fence opened and shut with the wind.
            He grinned at me, brushing back a stray blonde hair the wind had blown into his eyes.  “If you’re scared, Ro, just say so.  We’ll go home.”
            With a growl, I yelled back, “I’m not scared.”  The one remaining shutter slapped against the house, causing me to jump.  Luke barked out a laugh and I straightened my shoulders and turned to face the house again. 
            It’s just a house. It’s just a house, I repeated like a chant in my head as I stepped toward the gaping hole that was the front door.  The wind blew through the house, causing a sound like a moan to emit from it and me to stop in my tracks as my heart jumped into my throat.
            My hand trembled as I reached for the knob.  Why am I doing this again?  Oh yeah, that stupid ten-dollar bet, a bet I’d made on a dare. 
            Luke and I had been sitting outside on my front porch, drinking soda and playing truth or dare, but–because we knew everything about each other–it was more along the lines of dare or dare.  He’d dared me to spend an hour at the abandoned house and bet me ten dollars I couldn’t do it. I’d, of course, taken it. 
            If it had been just the ten dollars I’d have backed up and gone back home, laughing, but it wasn’t.  There was a much more important thing on the line than just a measly ten dollars.  My pride. 
            I’d never welched on a bet, or chickened out from a dare.  I wasn’t planning on starting now.
            With a deep breath, I pushed aside the tilted door and jumped when the last rusted hinge broke and the door feel into the house and crashed to the floor. 
            “Well, geez, Ro.  Why don’t you just wake the dead while you’re at it?” Luke called, his voice laughing at me.
            “Very funny,” I yelled over my shoulder and winced when my voice echoed throughout the house.
            Taking a minute to let my heart settle again, I looked around inside. I’d never seen it before. If you took the outside into consideration, the inside looked pretty good.  If you didn’t take into count the spider webs and dust that covered every square inch I could see.
            With another deep breath, I took the first step through the doorway and then stopped to turn around.  “I’m in.  Start the clock.”
            “Got it,” Luke called back and even through the howling wind I could hear the beep that symbolized the start of my hour. 
            Well, I’m in.  Now what? I’ve got a whole hour to kill. Might as well explore. 
            The house was three stories and I decided to start on it and then work my way down.  A house this old had to have something interesting in it. The dust on the floor was so thick I left footprints in it with each step.
            It had been abandoned for as long as I could remember, but my mom and her Bunko buddies talked often about the Mooney Mansion.  It had been the first house in Seminole County in the late 1800s.  The Mooney’s had had a whole plantation of celery, hundreds of acres, but when they died, the children had sold off the land an acre at a time until only the land surrounding the home was left.  Eventually the house was sold off to pay the taxes.
            Since then, the house had been bought and sold numerous times, no one staying longer than five years; earning it it’s haunted house title. 
            It didn’t appear too scary, now that I was inside.  In fact, the inside looked pretty darn good.  The staircase creaked slightly with each step, but the wood appeared to be in good shape and the carpet was only slightly threadbare.
At the landing for the second floor, a mouse scurried in front of me, squeaking at me as if yelling at me for ruining it’s nighttime stroll.  I slapped a hand across my mouth to block the little yelp that tried to escape and continued on up to the third floor, trailing my hand along the surprisingly smooth banister. 
A shiver racked my body as a breeze blew through the hall and I frowned as I wondered where it had come from.  There weren’t any windows and the doors to the rooms were all shut. 
I paused.  Which way should I go?  Left? Or right?  After a quick game of “Eeny Meeny Miney Moe,” I went left.
A feeling of unease settled in my belly almost immediately as I walked to the room at the end of the hall. Whatever was in that room I was sure I didn’t want to know about, but I was still strangely pulled to it.
            A flash of memory came to me as my hand wrapped around the crystal doorknob. 
            My mom and her friend Kate had been sitting outside on the front porch of my home the summer after I’d turned five.  They were both sipping their tea and gossiping about neighborhood news and almost daily pastime.
            “Did you hear about the old Mooney place?” my mom had asked, her face showing the hope and excitement it always did when she was sure she had something juicy to tell.
            “No.  I thought that young couple bought it a few months back, but they’ve never done anything with it,” Kate replied, sipping her tea.
            My mom beamed.  “No, and they won’t.  The woman was staying there about a week ago trying to decide on paint samples while her husband went to get food.  Well, she went to one of the rooms on the third floor, but the door was locked.”
            Kate sniffed and then winked at me.  “Well, couldn’t she get a key?”
            My mom rolled her eyes.  “Kate.  The doors don’t lock.  Not the bedroom doors.”
            “So, anyway, thinking the door was just stuck, she rammed the door with her shoulder and the door opened as easy as you please.”
            Kate shrugged.  “Maybe she just didn’t push hard enough the first time.”  She smiled down at me and then, when she was sure my mom wasn’t looking, slipped me a piece of toffee she had hidden in her skirt pocket.
            I took it with a smile and carefully unwrapped it, hoping my mom wouldn’t hear the telltale crinkle of the wrapper.
            My mom still looking away from us said, “Maybe, but when she stepped into the room you’ll never believe what she saw.”
            Kate rolled her eyes at me, causing me to giggle.  “What?
            “Well,” my mom said, leaning forward toward Kate, dragging out the story, “she opened the door and on the walls, written in blood, were words.”
            I choked on the piece of candy, and Kate gave me a few thumps on the back to dislodge it, while she laughed.  “Oh, come on, Lynn.  You don’t really believe that, do you?”
            My mom laughed and shook her head.  “No, of course not, but she did.  Screamed like the devil himself had visited her and ran straight out of the house.  When her husband came to get her, she demanded they leave right then and there.  Don’t know if he saw it, but they left that night, leaving everything they had there.  ”
            Another cold chill shook my body as I turned the knob easily in my hand and stepped into the room with my eyes closed.  I was sure this was the room they were talking about.  Why else would I have been drawn to it?
            A voice in my head told me to turn around and wait for the remaining minutes downstairs, but despite being scared out of my mind I was insanely curious.  Would there be words written on the walls?
            The minute I stepped through a breeze blew through and slammed the door shut, causing me to jump and yelp again.  My eyes flew open and I took a relieved breath.  The room was empty, minus a few stray pieces of furniture.
            The room was large, especially for a home as old as it was.  The wallpaper was torn, almost shredded in places, showing the slat walls behind it.  In the corner was a trunk.  I wandered around the room, tracing my fingers over the wall, half hoping to find a switch that would open a secret door. 
            I paused when I got to the trunk and then, wanting a closer look, knelt in front of it, my hands shook for some unknown reason as I touched it.  It was metal and had strange symbols etched onto its black sides. There were three locks in the front that prevented me from opening it, each lock in the shape of a skull.
In the hopes of finding the key, I searched the room oblivious to the time. I noticed a roll-top desk on the wall by the door and slid the top up and searched the drawers. When my fingers probed the middle drawer, they found a hole only big enough for my finger.  I slipped it in and pulled up, revealing a secret space.  Cautiously, I slid my hand in the space and felt something cold and metal brush against my fingers.
When I pulled it out, it was a strange looking skeleton key, which matched the chest.  I rushed over to it and slipped the key in the middle lock, smiling when I heard a soft click. Excited, I unlocked the remaining two locks and pushed open the lid, revealing a trunk full of old clothes. 
The smell of lavender permeated my nose as I pulled each article out.  This was so cool.  These clothes had to be hundreds of years old.  The little white muslin I’d just pulled out had to be from the Victorian era at least.  The high-neck and sweeping skirt proved it. 
I don’t know how long I spent going through the chest before I found a leather-bound book and wooden box.
I opened the wooden box first and pulled out a necklace.  The charm on the end of it was three triangles interconnected within a circle.  With a shrug, I slipped the leather cord around my neck, letting the symbol rest between my breasts. 
The book was the only thing left, so I flipped through it. 
“It’s just a bunch of mumble jumble,” I said in disgust. I flipped to the first page and tried figuring out what it said.  Thinking maybe it would make more sense I read it aloud, stumbling over the handwritten words.
være på vakt forbannelsen av gudene
snakker ikke ordene nedenfor
skjenket på deg øyet av tre.
The minute I finished, a bright light filled the room, blinding me. And I started screaming as a searing, shocking pain ran through my head, as if I’d been struck by lighting.   

Read Full Post »

Can you tell me which books these first lines are from (no cheating now.  The answers will be given at the bottom of the post)?

Call me Ishmael.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.

The Miss Lonelyhearts of the New York Post-Dispatch (Are you in trouble?—Do-you-need-advice?—Write-to-Miss-Lonelyhearts-and-she-will-help-you) sat at his desk and stared at a piece of white cardboard.

You don’t know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain’t no matter. 

As I’ve been reading and rating a lot of “First Pages” on Webook, I’ve noticed several things.  There are a lot of great sounding books, but their first pages do nothing for the book.  In my quest for a dream agent, I’ve come to find that THE most important thing you can do is make your first page(really your first line) exciting.  You have to hook ’em.  Whether it be your readers or your publisher/agent.

While that doesn’t mean you have to have the character in imminent peril if that isn’t what your book is about, but it does mean making it interesting.  And it has to make the “reader” ask a question.  There has to be a reason to keep reading.

Whenever I go into a bookstore there are three things that have to be done before I pick up a book I’ve never heard of before.  The cover has to be good, then the back cover blurb has to be exciting, and then I read the first page.  Now while, I may buy a book anyway, if I don’t like one of the three, the biggest determining factor is that first line and then the first page.

If I don’t like the first line, I probably will read on to see if it gets better, but after the first page if I still don’t like it, or it doesn’t give me a reason to keep reading, why should I?

Of course, for every rule there are exceptions.  Take Twilight, for example, I only bought it because my friend said I should, so I did.  I HATED, and still do, the first three chapters, but since I bought it, I forced myself to keep reading and I got hooked on the story and finished the rest of the series over the weekend.  So, had I applied my rule, I would have missed out on a great story.  Now I won’t debate with people about how good or bad Twilight is.  I have my own issues with it, but the truth is it’s a best-seller and there’s a reason for it, probably because she’s so good with the emotional aspects of her books.

Now how do we get to that all important part of this ramble.  How do we make sure that our first line is great?

1. Sentence Style.  Basically what this means is that the sentence must be concise.  This doesn’t mean it can’t be long, but it needs to make sense.  It definitely needs to be structured correctly so that the reader doesn’t feel as if it’s a mouthful.
2. It should make the reader ask a question.  Basically this part is your hook.  This doesn’t necessarily need to be in the very first sentence, but if not it needs to be in the first paragraph.  Give your reader a reason to keep reading.  Let it be a hint of what’s to come and set the tone for the book.  If it’s a comedy, open with something funny.  If it’s a horror, something scary, etc.
3. It needs to be relevant.  Since this line sets the tone for the rest of the book, don’t just add in something that sounds interesting or funny, but has nothing to do with the story.  It’ll only cause your readers to stop reading that much faster.  Readers are smart, they’ll figure it out.
4. It needs to allow for setup.  You shouldn’t toss your readers in the middle of a scene where no one knows what’s going on.  It’s distracting, chaotic, and of course another reason not to keep going.  People don’t like feeling confused.  They want to feel like they’ve got a good handle on something before they continue.

‘Call Me Ishmael’ – Moby Dick, and is one of the most famous in American Literature.

‘It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.’ – Cheeky set up, this one: Pride and Prejudice.

‘It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.’– Charles Dickens A Tale of Two Cities. One of those long sentences he’s famous for, but as you can see it follows almost every step to the T.

‘The Miss Lonelyhearts of the New York Post-Dispatch (Are you in trouble?—Do-you-need-advice?—Write-to-Miss-Lonelyhearts-and-she-will-help-you) sat at his desk and stared at a piece of white cardboard.’ — Nathanael West Miss Lonelyhearts.  An interesting set up that almost begs you to keep reading to find out what’s going on.  

‘You don’t know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain’t no matter.’ — Mark Twain Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.  Maybe not the most grammatically correct first sentence, but it sets the tone nicely for the rest of the book.  

Did you get them all?  I’m sure you did.  Enjoy the rest of Monday and I’ll see you tomorrow with another Teaser Tuesday.  And don’t forget to check out my new feature Writer Wednesday where I’ll interview someone from the publishing industry.  This week is a very special guest.  One of my friends and an awesome Epic fantasy novelist,  MJ Heiser.  She’ll be talking about her debut novel, Corona, and will offer her advice to newbie and aspiring writers.  

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »