Snippet Sunday 11/13-

I skipped a little from last week’s snippet…this is really raw so any comments will be appreciated.

As I’m sitting in the garden looking at the wildflowers, I see Caroline, Linnie, Keller. She and her parents lived next door to my parents’ boardinghouse for years, and she’s my friend and pretend sister. Her dark brown hair shines in the spring sunlight. She’s wearing a blue calico dress with puffed sleeves and a ruffle on the bottom. She walks into the garden and my mixed breed dog, Izzy, greets her by rushing up and giving her a friendly bark.
Linnie leans down to pet Izzy and cuddle Ace and Lucky, the two stray cats who show up looking for food. “Phoebe told me that you ran into Dr. Cartwright earlier.”
Phoebe is Linnie’s best friend, and she’s owned Samson’s General Store since her husband passed away from pneumonia seven years ago.
“Actually, she ran into me.”
Linnie looks at me with her introspective brown eyes. “Really? Phoebe said she bought a basket for the sale. Do you think you’re going to bid on it?”

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.

Snippet Sunday 10/30-Honey

This is a snippet from my new book, “Honeysuckle for Honey,” which takes place in 1896 and Dannville, Colorado. This takes up where last week’s snippet ended when the heroine, Honey, runs into the hero, saloon owner Wes Galloway. This is from Wes’s POV. I think I’m a little over the sentence limit, but this seemed like a good place to stop. Any comments are appreciated.

I help her pick up the white wicker picnic basket and supplies she’d obviously bought at the store. “I think I’m all right,” she says. “I didn’t see you, that’s all.”
“So you’re making a picnic basket for the auction?” Every year, Dannville has a basket auction where the ladies prepare picnic lunches and the men bid on them and spend the day with the lady whose basket they buy.
“That’s all everyone in town is talking about so I suppose I am.”
“I haven’t seen you around here.”
“I just moved here from Ohio and I’m working for Dr. Huntsberger. I’m a doctor, too, and he hired me to help with his patients, but he likes to do everything himself.”
“Well, I guess I won’t be one of your patients.”
“Why not? Don’t you think a woman can be a doctor?”
“It’s not that. It’s just that I never get sick.”
“Well, that’s good. Dr. Huntsberger thinks he knows everything. He probably wouldn’t mind if I delivered babies because that’s womans’ work. I don’t know how much real doctoring I’ll get to do. Oh, I’m sorry. First I run into you and now I’m probably boring you with my complaints.”
“You’re not boring me at all, honey.”
She takes a step back. “How did you know my name?”
“What’s that?”
“My name’s Honey Cartwright. How did you know my name was Honey?”
I can’t resist smiling at her. “I didn’t. I call all the ladies honey. And I’m Wes. Wes Galloway.”

Snippet Sunday 9/18-Grandma

The sanctuary at Temple Beth David is decorated in royal blue and gold. There are all kinds of Chanukah decorations–made by the religious school kids. Paper dreidels and menorahs hang from the walls and ceiling on fishing wire. Since it’s the fifth night of Chanukah, a five candles in a menorah sits on the podium in front.

I’ve belonged to Beth David for a whiile, and it feels like my home. My best friend, Sirena Sachs, is a member, and so is my grandmother, Bernie (short for Bernice). I moved to Dannville and joined the temple because of Grandma. When I was a kid, I spent summers here, and now Grandma and I are housemates.

Sirena approaches us carrying two pies–one Dutch apple and one pumpkin. She hugs my grandma who is tall and slender. Grandma’s gray hair is cut in a bob and her blue eyes twinkle. Grandma isn’t one of those women who whips up batches of cookies, or watches cooking shows on TV, but I’, closer to her than to my parents.

I tease Sirena when we all go into the temple’s kitchen. “Thanks for bringing me the pies. What’s everyone else going to eat?”

Snippet Sunday 6/12-Sing

I head toward the kitchen. I notice a dishwasher, but I ignore it and start cleaning a skillet and pasta pot. Grease is caked on, and I’m tempted to make a crack. Instead I start singing “Bie Meir Bis Du Schoen,” remembering my mom and grandma, who used to sing when they cleaned.
“What in the world…” Max murmurs.
I stop in mid-song. “I like to sing while I work. It makes the job go faster.”
He rolls his blue eyes at me. He was the first guy I’d ever met who could make an eye roll look sexy. “Why don’t you put the pans in the dishwasher?”
“I like cleaning them by hand.”
“Seems like a lot of extra work.”
I switch songs, deciding on “Over the Rainbow,” and return to cleaning the pans. The singing and the warm soapy water is great therapy. I think I’m going to like this job—if I can manage to hold onto it for more than a week.

Snippet Sunday 6/5-“But…”

For all of you wondering about the cliffhanger…I’m continuing on with my WIP, “Cinderella Wears Blue Jeans.” This is all I have written so unless I get some more done, next week I’ll be posting a snippet from the sweet historical I’m working on that takes place in the same town in Colorado in 1896 (which I hope is now ready for prime time). Thanks in advance for any feedback!

“I got sick. I couldn’t clean my own house, let alone anyone else’s, but it was a temporary setback. As I said, you have to have help. And I need customers because I’m trying to gain back the clients I lost when I was sick. So…”
“I’m sure there are places in Denver I could call.”
“You could, but you’d probably pay a lot more.”
He sighs and stares down at the wooden cane like it’s a medieval instrument of torture. “I’ll give you a week. If I don’t like the job you do, you leave.”
“I guarantee you will love the job I do.”
“We’ll see about that.”

Snippet Sunday 5/29-Clean sweep

Continuing on from two weeks ago, the latest snippet from “Cinderella Wears Blue Jeans.” This has been edited to fit the line limit and any feedback is appreciated. I’m also working on the sweet historical that takes place in the same town.

I send him a perky smile, just to annoy him. “Never say never.”
“I gave you my card. You didn’t call me for help.”
My smile vanishes. I put my hands on my hips. “Really? You thought I’d call you after you insulted my housekeeping skills? You said my place wasn’t fit for my cats to live in! Besides, if you were so concerned, you could have found me.”
“Owww!” He guides his walker across the room to a royal blue vintage chair. I glance into the kitchen. There are dirty dishes in the sink and wastebaskets filled with paper. The floors need to be mopped—and he’s obviously in serious pain.
“I can’t believe you, Mr. Clean, need a housekeeping service.”
“What I want is a person who has the same standards I do and can take care of the place while I’m incapacitated. That’s not you. Can’t your boss send me somebody else?”
“I told you, I’m the boss. Were my housekeeping skills that bad? Don’t you believe that a little ole slob like me could actually run a cleaning service?”
He looks me up and down with his assessing blue eyes. I stare back at him. “But…”

Snippet Sunday5/15/16-Cinderalla arrives

Continuing with my WIP, “Cinderella Wears Blue Jeans.” Cinderella has arrived at Max’s house and is in for a surprise. This is really raw and has been edited. I’m also working on my historical set in this same town, so it might be ready for prime time soon. Or not. Any feedback is appreciated.

I arrive at my destination—a Rocky Mountain retreat. The man who’d called my cleaning service, Cinderella’s Housekeeping, hadn’t exaggerated when he’d said his A-frame house was in a deserted area.
After arthritis, stomach ailments and a high heart rate, I’m slowly making my way back. Even after six months, I still thought about the paramedic who’d gotten on my case about the condition of my house when they’d found me. He’d offered to help, but my pride kept me from calling him.
I knock on the door of the modern-looking house. I hear moaning and a muffled curse. A walker or a cane clumps against what sounds like hardwood floors. Then the door opens and so does my mouth.
No. The man glaring at me as he grabbed onto his walker was the neat freak paramedic who’d rescued me six months ago.
“You? You work for a cleaning service?”
“I own the cleaning service. I’m Galeigh Frankel.”
“You run a company that cleans houses?” He runs his hand along the side of the stubble visible on his handsome face. “This is never going to work.”