Sweet Sample of My Accidental Novel

This story, "Middle Awash in Talent," which I've excerpted before, has asserted itself as possibly a novel as I've been working on it in the hours when I should be doing something else.

This is an unusual excerpt, because I'm putting it out here knowing that it has to be utterly changed. When I write magical realism, I frequently don't know when I've pushed the limits of belief too far, and my writing group has reigned me in for this scene. Emily is in the back of a police cruiser with her sister Beth, who's lost control of her telekinetic powers for a moment and seriously hurt Carlos (who happens to be Emily's love interest). I have to get Beth to the hospital to save Carlos with her healing powers, and in this version, the officers very reasonably agree. I love the police officers with their Rhode Island accents being so accommodating. Are they believable? Nope. They're going back through the mill.

The whole story is pretty sweet, but the instance of random violence makes it at least PG-13.

* * *

“I thought the deal was, you wouldn’t talk about Carlos and I wouldn’t mention your powers.” 

“Emily, I think it’d be great if you talked about my powers now. I’m so sorry about what I did to Carlos! I think if they let me go to the hospital, I can help him.”

I considered the strength of her telekinesis and thought about the surgical gash across her stomach, which she’d made a non-issue so quickly. “You can heal others as easily as yourself?”

“I think so. Otherwise, he might die, Emily. Die. I know you don’t want that.”

She was right. A dead true love would be far too melodramatic for someone like me. Keeping my eye always on her, I rapped gently against the mesh. “Officer?”

The one who wasn’t driving turned his head toward me skeptically.

“Remember how I said she had healing abilities? She says she can help the man she unintentionally harmed. Surely, that would lessen her guilt, and otherwise, I’m afraid he might be a goner.” I smiled, pleading, but wasn’t sure if he could see me at all through the mesh and with the unstable light as we passed under street lamps, north and south on College Hill according to the colonial street plan.

They conferred in low Rhode Island tones. All I heard was something about “a wicked good tetanus shot.” And quite a bit of chuckling. I’d known it was a shot in the dark, but just as I was opening my mouth to tell Beth it hadn’t worked, the driver said, “So I guess you want a ride to Rhode Island Hospital?”

Beth’s mouth gaped open and then clamped shut as she nodded her head vigorously.

“Yes, please,” I said.

“We figure extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures,” said the passenger-side cop as we sped past the police station and over the river.

“Indeed,” I said.

Apparently that was too much encouragement, as he kept talking about how much he knew about telekinesis and the history of the Providence Police Department with telekinetics ever since their kind had been revealed in the 1870’s. “Providence has a really good school for them, did you know? Is that why your sister’s here?”

“Mmm, yes, sure.” It was a relief to stop thinking about those concentration camps for talented people as we arrived at the hospital’s emergency entrance.

* * * 

Do you think I should work on this for NaNoWriMo, or my historical novel? Thanks for stopping by! I appreciate it and I will stop by all your sweet samples. 

Vacation for Sweet Saturday Sample

My husband has managed to wrangle a vacation out of his slave-driving place of work (for which we are eternally grateful in this economy). We're escaping Arizona for the least expensive hotel we could find near the ocean. The Pacific, the ocean that saw me grow up! I will get back to all of you on Sweet Saturday when I get back (which will be far too soon).

Here's a sample from a WIP, about a self-centered young lady who grew up in California, went to college in Rhode Island, and has a really special sister. I don't know if this is going to come to a conclusion soon, or if it will become a novella or an accidental novel. Most of it is as sweet as can be, but there is one disturbing image, which could push the whole thing to PG-13.

Here, Emily, the narrator, meets her love interest for the first time.

* * * 

I was leaving a final paper in my professor’s department mail box on the last day of December reading period when I saw one of the graduate students pinning up a flier with a picture of mounds of dirt and happy people smiling amid the muck.

“Hey, what’s that?” I said even as he was turning to leave, a stack of papers crammed into his backpack.

“What’s what?” he replied, wearily.

“That.” I pointed, as if I couldn’t go up and read it myself. It was my right as an undergrad to be taught by these people.

He put his arm against the wall to balance the weight of his backpack as well as underline what the flier said. “Field Studies in Africa. Make the most of your summer. Study archaeology in the field with respected experts while earning course credit!”

“Ooh,” I said, mirroring his half-sarcastic tone. He looked familiar. “Hey, didn’t you TA one of the archaeology classes?”

“Intro to Prehistory, section 4, and Field Arch, section 5.”

I looked into his exhausted green eyes and wanted to drown. I hadn’t taken either of those courses myself, but if I’d known he was the TA, I would’ve signed up.

“Are you going to do the field study?” I asked.

He nodded with as little effort as possible. “Herding all the undergrads, probably getting Professor Marsden his coffee.”

“See you next semester,” I called to him as he trudged away down the hall. No one else was in the room, so I took the tacks out of the flier and folded it carefully into my own backpack.

I hauled my bag downstairs from my dorm room all by myself. As I waited for the taxi to the airport, I clutched the folded flier with gloved fingers. It started the way he’d said:

Field Studies in Africa. Make the most of your summer. Study archaeology in the field with respected experts while earning course credit.

The Middle Awash of Ethiopia is the most persistently occupied place on Earth. Join some of the most important scholars in a unique field study where you can make a real contribution to the newest science being done right now. The fossils are eroding right out of the ground. You could discover an important six-million-year-old specimen yourself!

The photographic collage, arranged around the dustily happy people digging in the ground that had caught my eye at first, showed carefully reconstructed skeletons of Ardipithecus ramidus, Australopithecus, and Homo erectus as well as a scenic view of what, strangely, looked to be Victoria Falls, and for good measure a tribesman of the Afar Desert complete with red, black and white woven clothing and Adidas sneakers.

* * *  

Thanks for taking a look. Let me know what you think. I appreciate all constructive comments, so very much!

It's Getting Closer: World Rhino Day for Sweet Saturday Sample

World Rhino Day is September 22. Show your support by spreading the word: Rhino Horn is Not Medicine.

Here's another sweet excerpt from my story, "Not Extinct Yet." It shows some of the horrors of poaching, but nothing's on-screen, so the whole story merits a PG at worst. It will be published someday! Two important things for this snippet: 1. Winifred and Jenna are both white rhinoceroses, while Suzanne is human. 2. The classification of rhinos actually has nothing to do with color.

All babies love their mamas.

* * *

Winifred cleared her throat again. “Well, I’ve heard that your sound man is starting to get bored with us. I wondered if it would help your research to know that black rhinos wouldn’t be so fierce if you announced your presence verbally before you got too close.”

Suzanne’s jaw dropped. “We’ve been trying to figure out what to do about them!” Suzanne made a mental note to ask a rhinoceros the next time she needed to figure out something about a rhinoceros.

The sound guy poked his head out of the Jeep. “I’ve got a megaphone right here. We’re tracking a black rhino about ten miles away.”

“I’ll help!” exclaimed Jenna. She ran alongside the Jeep as they rumbled across the countryside, slowing and stopping as soon as Suzanne could see the black rhino through binoculars.

She hopped out and looked at Jenna. “I’m not sure what to say,” she admitted.

“Hold that in front of my mouth,” said Jenna. She took a deep breath and shouted into the megaphone. “Hey! Black rhino! We’re a white rhinoceros and a few humans. We don’t want to hurt you! We want to talk to you!”

* * *

And don't forget, my collection Threads Woven is available for Kindle and Nook. Nice stuff, so little money!

Check out the other sweet samples here.

Sweet Saturday Sample in Anticipation of World Rhino Day

A white rhinoceros enjoys the grooming skills of an avian friend.

Call me crazy, but I think rhinoceroses are the sweetest animals!

This excerpt is from my short story "Not Extinct Yet," which is still looking for a home. Any takers?

In this story, it has been Discovered that most animals can speak human languages. See another six sentences from it here. The main character, Suzanne, has been talking with the rhinos on the preserves in South Africa and has to convince her husband to leave New York and come with her.

* * *

After these initial successes, Suzanne managed to be transferred from her post in the Twin Towers to a local branch of her company in Pretoria. Derek had hesitantly left his assistant professorship in human linguistics at CUNY in order to stay with her. It had not been a simple conversation in the kitchenette.

“I have to say, I never pictured myself in South Africa,” Derek said.

Suzanne had. Her childhood bedroom’s walls had filled up with Johannesburg and Cape Town tourism posters as soon as the interest in rhinoceroses had dropped into her head.

Derek continued, “Haven’t I been providing for us?”

“Of course!” Suzanne had sat in on some of his linguistics classes, pre-Discovery, when they were often nothing more than one-on-one tutoring sessions. After the Discovery, Derek had tripled his income by teaching three times the classes to what seemed like hundreds of times the number of students. When Suzanne tried to sit in now, it was standing room only. The financial boost had given Suzanne exactly the freedom she needed to travel and, eventually, make first contact with her favorite creatures. “But maybe it’s my turn to provide for us now.”

“Did you know this was going to happen when you got this job as a rhino expert?”

“Now, that’s not fair. Nobody knew the Discovery was going to happen, and I’ve loved rhinos for much longer than five years. Just remember the couch I had when we met.”

Derek grunted, picturing the grey monstrosity, complete with face, horns, and tail, dominating her living room. “We’ve come so far.”

Suzanne opened the kitchen window and looked into the Manhattan street below. “See that dog? I bet he could tell you how much the world has changed.”

“He’s too far down there to talk with us,” said Derek.

“Yes!” cried Suzanne. “But six years ago, that wouldn’t have been the only thing keeping him quiet! Don’t you see? The zoologists’ time has come. This is my wildest, most ludicrous dream come true. Come and live it with me, darling.”

* * *

The other sweet excerpts are here! Enjoy!

World Rhinoceros Day is September 22, 2011!  savingrhinos.org

Third Sweet Saturday

The thirteenth of any month is the sweetest for me, since I met my husband on a February thirteenth and we married on September 13, 2009. Whenever the thirteenth rolls around, it's some kind of anniversary for us!

How to come up with a snippet that's as sweet as that? Not easy, but here's the loving couple from the anchor story of my collection, Threads Woven. (All but one of the stories are G to PG, and even the nastier one is light and humorous!)

* * *

Miriam stopped running the water. “I’m sorry, George. You know I’m the jealous type.”

George rose from the counter and held Miriam close, where he could smell her hair and kiss her neck. “I really can’t blame you, with that foxy husband you’ve got!”

Miriam sighed. “He’s so understanding, too, I know he won’t mind Leila staying here.”

George escorted Miriam to the living room couch and adopted the same serious tone as Miriam. “What are your plans for Leila? How long will she stay?”

“Well, she’s nineteen, so it’s probably kind of late to adopt her...”

“Adopt her!”

“But I thought we could take her in unofficially until she’s ready to make her own way in the world.”

George looked for traces of sanity in Miriam’s face. He grasped her hands in her lap. “Dear, does this have anything to do with your not having seen Elizabeth for a few months? You do know, don’t you, that eventually even a mother’s work is finished?”

* * *

Threads Woven is available for hardly any money at all through this ad link. Also in Nook! Enjoy the new, reader-approved cover!

Please see all the sweet excerpts here. I 100% guarantee that I will visit the sites and leave comments for those who comment here once I send my sweeting back into the wide world of work.

Second Sweet Saturday

Sweet Saturday Samples is the best idea I've seen in a long time and I thank the organizer very much. I'm doing something very not sweet on Sundays, so I appreciate the chance to balance my karma on the webs.

This sweet snippet is from "Club Love," one of the stories making their published debut in Threads Woven and Other Stories for Women (see here for cover voting and contest, ends Monday!). The entire book is PG-13, with only one story ("Justine") dropping a well-earned f-bomb and containing a comedy murder. All the other stories are safe G to PG content. Enjoy!

* * *

         “Club Ai,” the sign said. The letters were much more modest than the other tacky billboards in that part of town. Even though it almost looked tasteful, Meredith was bewildered.

“Another club? That’s all I need to make me happy?”

“Try it, you’ll like it,” said Verity, and this time she was telling the truth.

The cover was fifty dollars, which made Meredith hesitate. Verity was so self-assured that she paid for them both, and Meredith’s curiosity became uncontrollable.

“What is this place!” she gasped when they walked into a large ballroom with red wallpaper and lights all along the ceiling. In the center of the room was a huge chandelier of sparkling crystals, and in the corners were tasteful statues of Greek gods and goddesses. Most strange, however, was the row of fifty men standing at attention, waiting for something.

They bowed and smiled widely, and most of them said, “Good evening, madam,” or “You’re looking lovely tonight,” or something similar. They all wore suits or tuxedoes in various colors as though this were the most important night of their lives.

Verity squealed with excitement and grabbed the man on the front end of the line by the arm. “Have fun!” she said to Meredith, and her man gently led her by the arm to a table isolated from the other couples already there. Meredith did not see her again that night.

         Meredith looked up and down the long row of undeniably attractive men, nervously. She felt odd. She felt like she was taking advantage. She felt like those men who came to her for someone to talk at. She shuddered, and suddenly one of the men in particular caught her eye.

* * *

I can't read the samples on Saturday itself because that day is sacred spend-time-with-the-hubby day, but I promise to catch up when he goes back to work! Thanks for dropping by here! 
Also in Nook! 

Sweet Saturday Samples First Week!

What better way to end the month than with two -- count 'em, two! -- days of excerpts. Today is the first time around for Sweet Saturday Samples, a concept I truly appreciate. See the other non-violent, non-sexual excerpts here. As I wind down my promotions for Sail To Italy and Sail From Italy, I can think of no sweeter book ever written. :)

This silly scene is from the beginning of the first book, when Princess Noreena needs Pirate Pierre to find the fugitive Giovanni Redicci.

Pierre had come with an offer. “I know where your Giovanni Redicci is. I can get him for you, but it’s going to cost you dearly.”

“How much?” was all Noreena said, though she was taken aback. It was all she could do to keep herself from jumping up and down.

“How much are you willing to pay?” he asked.

“How much are you asking?” she insisted. Though she was willing to hock her new silverware, she was a bargainer at heart.

“Sixty five. French francs, please.”

“Oh? I suppose that means I have to go to France, then.”

“Correct.”

“And that will cost me a fortune in itself.”

“Correct.”

“Monsieur Pierre, I’m afraid you’ll have to take down your offer. I do not have adequate funds at the present.” Noreena was annoyed.

Does he think I’ve got French money growing on my courtyard trees?she thought.

Pierre was silent a moment, then said, “I’ll make another offer, but you may turn this down, too. If you sail to Ireland with me, I will detour to France where you can get fifty five, and I will then get this Redicci for you, then you give me the money and do whatever you wish with him.”

“Fifty five, hmm?”

“I won’t go any lower, so accept or find someone else who can find him. Your search parties weren’t doing so well, and only I know where he is. Weigh all this carefully, your highness.”

“Oh, but I do know where he is. You told me yourself just now. He’s in Ireland.”

“Drat!”

See this and other excerpts here. I'll keep future excerpts shorter.

In Kindle, Nook, or paperback, this saga is not expensive, long, or serious. Enjoy!