Snippet Sunday, 3/19-“I called somebody”

Continuing on with a snippet from my WIP, “Yankee Doodle Darling” (Changed the title and I’m still not sure about this one). I’m continuing on from last week when Oren confronted Cilla about not getting in touch with him for ten years. Any feedback is much appreciated–this is really raw. I wrote it when I wasn’t feeling too well.

Cilla takes another bite of her Danish, and a gulp of coffee. The guy who helped me with her when she fell answers his cell phone when it rings. Then he says “Uh, Cilla. I’ve gotta go.”
She smiles at him and and takes another swig of coffee. “Sure. Go.”
“Good luck on the new job. Call me if you need me.” He saunters out of the diner, and Cilla glares at me.
“I called somebody. I’m sure you didn’t give me the wrong number. I didn’t send e-mails because I didn’t have your e-mail address.”
At her smart-aleck comment, I see red. “Cilla, we were so much in love. Why didn’t you keep trying?”
“I did,” she insists. “I left messages with your mom and stepfather. Then I wrote letters to you here at your brother’s house. You didn’t answer. Look, I have to go to work or I’ll be late.” She takes a pen out of her small leather purse and scribbles her phone number on a napkin. “Call me.”

Snippet Sunday-3/12-More of Oren

More on Cilla and Oren’s story, “Yankee Doodle Sweetheart.” I’m taking up where I left off last week. Cilla fell on her way into Sach’s Dannville Diner. She was wearing high heels, and she’s a klutz. She’s rescued by Oren and a guy named Greg. I just wrote some of this today, so it’s very raw. Any feedback would be appreciated. I edited to adhere to the line limit.

Cilla’s staring at me and the other dude who helped me lift her up. I ask the same question Mr. Thinks-He’s-Oh-So-Cool had asked a moment ago. “Are you okay?”

She looks at me, and is a little more focused now. “I’m fine.” She asks a waitress for a cherry danish and a cup of coffee with sugar and heavy on the cream. “I have to go to work.”

Work? I haven’t seen or heard from her in ten years, and she wants to talk about her job? She explains that she had a job as a music therapist in Boston, but the school where she worked cut the budget, so she ended up in Dannville.

“Music therapy? That sounds like a job you’d love, although I don’t know if you still like music or not since you haven’t called me or written to me in ten years.” I sigh inwardly as the snarky comment escapes my lips.

Snippet Sunday-3/5-Oren’s POV

I am continuing with my WIP, “Yankee Doodle Sweetheart,” and I’ve skipped a couple of paragraphs. Now we’re in Oren, the hero’s, POV. It’s very raw and any feedback will be apppreciated.

The last person I expect to see in my sister’s diner on a Monday morning is Cilla Rayfield. We were so in love ten years ago. Sometimes it seemed like she was the only one who “got” me. She didn’t make fun of my dyslexia, and I smiled and indulged her when she wore high heels, even though she’s a klutz.

She’s wearing high heels today, too, gray ones. She walked into the diner, and she tripped, so now me and another guy are helping me to her feet.

I want to yell at her about wearing high heels, but I know better than to tell her what to do. I resist the urge to cuss at her for not getting in touch with me for ten years. After my visit to Boston ten years ago, I never heard from her again. With all today’s technology, SmartPhones and computers, I thought commnicating with me would be easy. Of course, Cilla doesn’t like technology. She says it’s moving too fast.

Snippet Sunday 2/26-Greg

We approach a navy blue and white and white taxi and the driver takes our luggage and puts it in the trunk. I give him our address and a smile crosses his face. “I’m from Dannville myself. I’m Greg. What are your names?”
I can’t help laughing. “My dad’s name is Greg. And since he retired, he drives a cab.”
“I’m named after Grandma and Grandpa,” Ana says. “I’m Gregoriana. Ana for short. And my mom’s name is Priscilla. Cilla for short.”
Greg gives us a crooked grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever met another cab driver named Greg.” He drives toward Dannville where my new life and my past are about to collide. His Dannville Dreamers sits low on his head, making me think of my dad, who loves baseball.
As Greg drives down Main Street, I take in storefronts and their Independence Day displays. In addition to a carnival and other entertainment,there’s a music festival and Oren and his band, Dorp Dead, are the feature act.

Snippet Sunday 2/19–new book

I started a new book since Emma and Duke’s story is stuck (but it will get unstuck when I’m feeling better). I’m sorry I haven’t been around–my mother-in-law passed away last week and we were kind of close plus I’ve had this bad cold. The cold was just annoying at first, but today it’s kind of bad.

Anyway, here’s my new book–it’s the sequel to “I’ll be Home for Chanukah,” and has a secret baby plot. This is raw–I started it while I was sick, but any feedback will be appreciated. I’ll try to get to all of yours.

I hear my ten-year-old daughter, Ana’s, clear and beautiful singing voice as we hurry through the Denver Airport. Outside, taxis wait to take us to our destination, an English Tudor cottage in the mountains.

I can’t wait to settle into our new home with Ana. I’m looking forward to my new job as a music therapist, too. Ten years ago I’d fallen in love with Dannville, Colorado…and Oren Sachs,

“Mama?” Ana had stopped singing “Let It Go” from the Disney movie “Frozen.” I face her intense gaze. She has her dad’s musical talent and dark good looks. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. I’m just nervous about moving here, and the new job.”

“We’re going to love it!”

Snippet Sunday 1/29-Unmarried

Back with this week’s snippet from my sweet historical WIP, “Daisies from Duke.” This is also really raw so any comments are appreciated and it’s been edited to fit the line length.

Duke sent her what he hoped was his most charming smile. It hadn’t impressed the editor, and he had the feeling Emma Richmond wouldn’t be impressed either.
Emma turned back to Jillian Bennett. “You have to take care of this. When I was hired for the position of school teacher, I said I was unmarried.”
The editor looked at the paper, and scanned the announcement. “You’re still unmarried.”
“I indend to stay that way. The school board expects teachers to be unattached. If they read this, I’ll have no job, no money and…” She looked like she might start crying any minute; the toughness she’d shown a few moments ago fading away.
Duke didn’t have any solutions. He wished he could think of a way to solve the problem, but not be shackled for all eternity.

Snippet Sunday, New year, new book

I’ve been working on “Honeysuckle for Honey,” but nothing’s happening with it. I got an idea for a story about Wes’s best friend, Duke. This is really, really raw, so any suggestions will be much appreciated. I have no title yet except something like “Daisies for Duke.” (yuck!)

“Hannah and Arnold Richmond announce the betrothal of their daughter, Emma, to Mr. Duke Madison. Mr. Madison is the proprietor of our own Dannville’s Duke’s Restaurant. Miss Richmond is newly arrived in Dannville…”
Duke Madison glared at the newspaper article, and then at Jillian Bennett, editor of the Dannville Citizen. “Miss Bennett…” he said, staring at the editor, whose eyes flashed with anger. “This announcement is not correct. I don’t know anyone named Emma Richmond and we’re certainly not enegaged.”
“Mr. Madison,” Miss Bennett said, her homespun skirt swishing when she moved. “I am not…”
The door of the newspaper office squeaked when it opened, and a young woman walked in, holding a copy of the Dannville Citizen. “Is the editor here. I’m Emma Richmond. There’s been a mistake.”

Snippet Sunday 12/25-

Happy holidays! This is another snippet from “Honeysuckle for Honey” and is told from her POV. This takes place at the basket auction. It’s really raw and has been re-written and edited — any feedback is appreciated!

After several more baskets are auctioned off, Colonel Bridgeman, Dannville’s mayor, picks up mine. I’ve prepared fried chicken, vegetables, a corn casserole and chocolate cake. I haven’t prepared anything fancy, but it’s plain cooking and I had help (and a stove) from Wes’s mother. .
Colonel Bridgeman starts the bidding at five dollars.
“Five dollars!” Dr. Huntsberger says. If he wins, he’ll probably tell me how good a cook I am, and that I should find a husband and knit and cook and have babies.
“Ten dollars!” Wes Galloway counters. I don’t want to be attracted to his charming manner, and that crooked smile, but I am. He’s very handsome with his brown hair the color of coffee, mustache and muttom chops and twinkling blue-gray eyes.
“Ten dollars going once, ten dollars going twice, sold to Wes Galloway for ten dollars!” Colonel Bridgeman announces.
I follow Wes to the table, and Colonel Bridgeman hands him the basket. “Congratulations, son! Enjoy lunch with this lovely lady.”
“I’m sure I will,” Wes says. I walk alongside him and notice that he’s heading away from the center of town.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“You’ll see.”

Snippet Sunday 10/23-New book

I finished my short story and sent it off to (hopefully) be accepted for publication in a holiday anthology. Otherwise,I’ll self-pub it. This week, I’m submitting a snippet from my new book, a historical set in the same town as the contemporary in 1896. It’s called “Honeysuckle for Honey,” and this first part of Chapter One is written from the hero, Wes’s, POV. As a side note, I had a dream about this setting set in 1896, and my friends and I were the characters.
Any feedback would be appreciated.

“I own a profitable saloon in the town of Dannville, Colorado. I have mo children and have never been married. I have my own home, and all of my teeth, although the front ones are a little crooked. People tell me I have a good sense of humor…”
I’m so intent on reading the ad I plan on placing for a mail order bride that I don’t see a young woman with hair the color of wheat leaving Samson’s General Store–until she collides with me. Tendrils of blonde hair come loose from her topknot as she glares at me with blue eyes full of beauty and anger.
“Sir, you should watch where you’re going!”
“You weren’t looking where you were going either, y’know? Are you all right?”

Snippet Sunday 9/25

“Hi, Sis.”
I glance in the direction of the deep voice and brown eyes that remind me of a cup of hot coffee.
A handsome man with golden hair the same color as Sirena’s is glancing down at us. He’s wearing a navy blue sports jacket, a white collared shirt and a Chanukah tie with pictures of dreidels on it, as well as a yarmulke. I’d seen pictures of Sirena’s brother, Byron, but they don’t do him justice. He’s tall and muscular, but not too muscular. I could develop a serious crush on him.
Sirena makes the introductions.
“Byron’s taking over for a few weeks since Rabbi Goldsmith is in the hospital.”
Uh oh. I shouldn’t be thinking of Byron’s muscles or eyes or anything else. Not only is he a man of the cloth, he’s Sirena’s brother and he’s only here temporarily.