Double the Teasing, Double the Fun...

Thanks again for all your comments last week. I'm still not sure which of the two bright and shiny new ideas of mine to focus on. Last week's poll came out to a three way tie. Just as many people said HUNTED as said LOVE as said 'do what you want'. So I'm still undecided :(

Anywho...I thought that since I'm still so undecided, you all can get two teasers again this week! yay for Two for Teaser Tuesday!


LOVE IN A TIME OF POPULARITY (YA contemp romance)

The basket filled with all sorts of welcome goodies Mom had all but thrown at me this morning easily weighed more than both me and Cindy combined. It was all I could do to make it the short distance across the street and four houses down to greet our new neighbors. Cindy skipped up ahead, her blond curls bouncing in the mid-morning sunlight as I trudged behind her.

“C’mon, slow poke.” She sang out, tapping her foot and glancing at her watch in fake impatience all the while fighting to hold back giggles.

I tried to melt her with my glare, but it didn’t work. Instead, I hiked the basket higher in my hands and forced myself forward. It was nice of Mom to think of the new people, but how come I was the one who had to be the ‘welcome wagon’?

Cindy was already leaning on the doorbell when I finally made it up to her side. We stood and waited, listening to muffled clanging sounds from deep within the house. Another few minutes and she jabbed at the doorbell again. The slight chiming that echoed back at us was drowned out by the raucous sounds of people moving furniture and unpacking. She rolled her eyes and pressed longer and harder on the bell. A twelve year old girl—especially one as curious as my sister—lacks any kind of patience or tact.

She was about to hit the bell again, but I stopped her. Shifting the basket so as to free one hand, I knocked loudly, rapping my knuckles against the hard wood. Waited…waited…waited. Groaning—even I was beginning to get a little miffed—I balled my hand into a tight fist, pulled it back, and slammed it forward as hard as I could. They’d definitely hear that.

But, as my fist was just about to connect with solid wood, the door swung inward, and my knuckles met with soft flesh stretched over sharp bone.

“Ow!” He cried, his hands automatically flying up to cover his face.

“Oh!” I gasped, dropping the basket and stepping forward, hand outstretched to help. “I am so sorry. I didn’t—“

“Don’t!” He cut in, one hand clapped over his nose while the other palm slapped out between us, warding me off.

Beside me, Cindy’s mouth was hanging open, her eyes darting from me to the boy and back to me again. Then, nervous giggles erupted from her. “Well, isn’t that a nice way to welcome our new neighbors?”


and...


HUNTED (YA paranormal romance)

He fell in as I yanked the door open, a bloody sack of broken bones and shredded muscle collapsing heavily into my surprised arms. Another shriek made its way back up to the tip of my tongue before my senses came back to me enough to stop it cold. My eyes rounded in shock, disbelief, and over-whelming relief.

“Tanner!” I choked out, my arms locking around him as I stepped back to pull him into the shelter of our home. “Tanner, you’re alive! I’d begun to think that—“

“No time for thinking.” He cut in with a low, pained growl. “We’ve got to bounce before they unleash the hounds.”

Ice slithered through my veins at the mention of the hounds. They were close if the hounds were coming into play. Very close. I kicked myself mentally and focused all my attention on my brother.

“You’re bleeding.” I said, stating the obvious.

He rolled his shoulders, more to pop the bones back into place than to shrug. “Doesn’t matter now. Come on.”

He grabbed my arm and pulled, dragging me along close behind him as he staggered toward the back of the house. I followed him mutely, all the while worrying about the blood dripping down his arm and sliding into the folds of our entwined hands. How bad were his wounds? He’d made it back to me from who knows where, and I was certain that he wouldn’t last the night, not with so much blood oozing out of him. What would I do without him? How would I survive? Did I even want to?

There was no time to entertain such morbid thoughts. Tanner led me back to the tiny bedroom and shoved the window open. His breathing was already labored, and his movements were jerky, but they weren’t slow. In times like this, speed was key. Being wounded did not allow for any mistakes. If anything, it meant you had to fight that much harder to survive.

He motioned toward the window and yanked me forward. “Go.” He ordered as he pushed me through.

I landed on the cold hard ground just outside the window with a sharp thud that resounded painfully, slicing through the still night. Palms to earth to push myself upright, but I only made it to my knees before the heavy backpack slammed me back to the ground. I threw a quick glare over my shoulder at Tanner and then shook it off. Grabbing up the bag, I just barely had it on my back when he stumbled out the opening behind me.

He waved off my nervous hands, offers of help, and frantic questions of whether he was okay. Of course, he wasn’t not okay. He looked like he’d been tied to the back of a Buick and dragged for miles. Maybe he had, but I really didn’t want to know, nor was there any time to ask.

A flash of an instant and we were up and running. No time to stop. No time to think. We ran on pure instinct. Cut across the tiny back yard, sliced through the line of hedges that bordered the property, and then we were in the dense forest behind the house. We stopped once we were just inside the thick stand of trees. Hands on his knees, Tanner heaved out a long stream of labored gasps.

“We. Have. To. Keep. Going.” He wheezed.

I nodded mutely, not wanting to push him too hard but knowing that if we didn’t move soon, it would be our end. My ears perked up. There was something…The hair on my arms raised in warning, and cold panic speared through me. My hand shot out to clutch at Tanner’s arm, my fingers curling into the bloodied flesh. “Do you hear that?” I whispered loudly.

He gave a quick nod—just one small jerk of his head—as his eyes darted back and forth, calculating where the sound was coming from, which escape route was the best, and most importantly, whether we had a snowball’s chance in Hell of getting out alive.

Our chances of survival melted more and more the longer we stood still, and we both knew it.

Quiet reigned as we waited, frozen in place by the notion that the hunters were closer than we’d originally thought. Long minutes passed. Nothing…not even crickets chirping their midnight songs. Something about the stillness felt wrong. I tossed a glance Tanner’s way and found his face held the exact same expression as mine no doubt did. It was just too quiet, and that kind of silence only meant one thing.

A Slacker and A Tease...Yep! That's Me!

I'm sure you all have been wondering where I've been the last couple of weeks. Yes, I did fall into a hole...one called SNI Heaven/Hell, depending on how you look at it :) Heaven because I absolutely LOVE Shiny New Ideas...Hell because I abhor writing beginnings. Ah well, such is the life of a writer.

This week, I am hopping on the Two for Tuesday Bandwagon that Kate Hart started. Yes, friends! I am going to give you TWO Teases for the price of one! How sweet is that? The only catch? I need all you lovelies to tell me which one I should concentrate on. I like them both!

Okay...so deal? Yes? AWESOME! Here you go...your comments and votes are much appreciated!!!

HUNTED: YA paranormal romance

Sucking in a shallow, almost silent breath, I flipped back through my memory banks, searching for Tanner’s location. We’d split up several days ago. Traveling was always easier when we were separate. Much easier to elude the hunters that had been tracking our every movement for nearly a decade. Tanner had promised that he’d meet up with me in a day, no more than two. The morning would bring day three.

Had they found him? Tortured him into giving up my location? Had my sudden wakefulness been my body’s attempt at self-preservation? I didn’t really have a chance to mull any of these questions over for the little leprechaun that lived in my head was violently screaming for me to Run! Run! Run! as fast as I possibly could. And, I knew he was right. If I wanted to survive to see another dawn I had to get out and now, but at the same time, another smaller but more insistent voice was telling me to calm down and think this through.

If nine years of running, constantly looking over my shoulder had taught me anything, it was the value of being smart. All the muscle in the world would not save you if you were stupid enough to walk right into a trap. Even if there was no time, I had to stop and plan my next course of action. My survival depended upon it.

I had to leave. There was really no way around that. If they found Tanner...who was I kidding? They did find my brother. There could be no other explanation for his continued absence. Grief slashed painfully through me, ripping my chest wide open at the terrible realization that I was the only one left.

And then there were none. Our line ended with me. The hunters were so close to getting what they’d wanted for all these years…destroying my family.

Gathering up as much courage as I could muster, I shoved up and raced around my room, grabbing up the few clothes and possessions I really couldn’t live without. The one and only bright side to living on the lam was that you never amassed more than a handful of things. You learned quickly what was of true value and what you could do without when you could only take what you could carry in a small knapsack.

I shoved it all in, yanked the zipper shut, and hoisted the bag up onto my back. Then, I crept slowly toward the bedroom door. Easing the old, rotted wood aside, I peeked out into the living room. The house I was currently living in was tiny, no more than a shack, so it was easy to see from my vantage point that the rest of my home was empty…but not for too much longer, I was sure.

I slithered out through the door, slinking my way through the living room. I snatched up a loaf of bread that was sitting on the table as I moved by. When I reached the front door, I breathed out a small sigh of relief. Squaring my shoulders and telling myself that I would make it, I would survive this night, I pushed the door open.

The scream flew out of my mouth before I could think to stop myself. It didn’t matter anymore. I was about to join the rest of my family in death.


And....another :)


LOVE IN A TIME OF POPULARITY: YA contemporary romance

The great thing about living in a small town is that nothing ever happens. Everyone knows everyone. The girl next door is the same one who’s been there since you were five. The man delivering your paper, the one fixing your car, the kindly old woman running the bakery, the doctor who fixes all your hurts: always un-changing.

There is an immeasurable amount of comfort in familiarity.

On the same token, the bad thing about living in a small town is that nothing ever happens. Everyone knows everyone, and everyone knows everyone else’s business. For instance, Mrs. Fellows, across the street, has four grown children and a large collection of grandchildren, but what she loves above all else is the assortment of stray cats that she feeds. Mr. Greenberg, on the next block, runs the hardware store. To anyone who hasn’t lived here all her life, he might appear to be a macho guy, but even if no one talks about it, we all know that Mr. Greenberg’s favorite movie is Sleepless in Seattle and he cries every time he sees it.

My family—like everyone else—has its own rituals, an unending cycle of sameness. Every fall, we go as a family to the cider mill outside of town and get several bushels of apples so that Mom can create an applesauce sweatshop in which my sister and I spend long hours hunkered over the table, peeling and coring apples until our fingers are about to fall off. Every Christmas, we trudge through the streets singing off-key carols. For New Year’s, it is our house that is crammed with half the town, everyone toasting in celebration of another year of absolute monotony.

And, after school lets out for the summer, Dad always comes up with some sort of project to do around the house, something designed to keep us kids out of trouble and simultaneously improve the overall aesthetic of our home. Usually, the heavy lifting would fall to Grant because 1. he is the oldest and 2. he is a boy and by all rights should be able to handle any kind of manual labor. But, with him off to college, the one who would be drafted into slave labor would be me. Oh, joy.

This year’s project? Repainting the house. Double joy. So, while other kids were off having fun and doing things that were so much more interesting, I would be painting a house.

Telling myself that I really didn’t have anything else planned for the summer didn’t seem to help. Yes, all my friends had already shipped off to various summer adventures. Becca was going to California with her parents on vacation. Charlotte, Katherine, and Micah were all going to band camp while Jill and Maggie were headed off to soccer camp. None of them would return until just before school started back up. I was all alone. Just me, a paint brush, and the house. How lucky could a girl get?

Thus began my summer of sameness…that is until he arrived.