Drop the Needle -- Critique Guidelines

Last time, I didn't set up submissions as a lottery, and the slots filled up with several hours to go. This time, I decided to create a lottery so that wouldn't happen again--and we only got 7 entries!

I guess you mustn't have many angry characters. ;)

At any rate, this gives us an opportunity to really home in on these seven entries and give them lots of juicy feedback. Please offer your best to help your colleagues become the best writers they can be!

Guidelines for Critique on MSFV:

• Please leave your critique for each entry in the comment box for that entry.
• Please choose a screen name to sign your comments. The screen name DOES NOT have to be your real name; however, it needs to be an identifiable name.  ("Anonymous" is not a name.)
• Critiques should be honest but kind, helpful but sensitive.
• Critiques that attack the writer or are couched in unkind words will be deleted.*
• Cheerleading IS NOT THE SAME as critiquing.  Please don't cheerlead.
• Having said that, it is perfectly acceptable to say positive things about an entry that you feel is strong.  To make these positive comments more helpful, say why it's a strong entry.
• ENTRANTS: As your way of "giving back", please critique a minimum of 3 other entries.

*I can't possibly read every comment.  If you ever see a comment that is truly snarky, please email me.  I count on your help.

Drop the Needle: ANGER #7

TITLE: Truth in the Treetops
GENRE: YA contemporary with paranormal elements

This is on Saturday night, after Gabby doesn't contact CJ for days because she's been told by someone untrustworthy at school that he's using her. 

I pull on the door handle, step back and cross my arms. “What are you doing here?”

“Yeah, Gabby, nice to see you, too.” CJ jams his hands into his jeans’ pockets and lifts his shoulders. “What’s going on? You don’t respond to my texts or calls. You haven’t even attempted to talk to me for the last two days. First, I thought you were sick, but you would’ve at least texted me. At least I would hope so. What gives? Why are you ignoring me all of the sudden? Did I do something I’m not aware of?” His stony gray eyes burn a hole in mine.

I glance past him into the night, avoiding his pointed glare, an ache throbbing in my chest.

CJ takes a step closer and stops. “Can I come in? Please? Maybe you can tell me what’s going on.”

I nod, leading him into the family room and take a seat on the sofa. CJ shrugs off his coat and sits on the chair across from me, resting his elbows on his knees. “Talk to me. What’s up? Is it because of what happened last Saturday at your race? Because I talked to Asha? Gabby, I’m only trying to help, make sure you’re okay. I was so worried about you.” He drops his gaze to the floor. “Especially when you passed out at the finish. I’m sorry if I talked to Asha and your parents about it, but I was worried about you. Scared.” He shakes his head. “Sorry, I keep saying that, but it’s the truth.”

Drop the Needle: ANGER #6

TITLE: Never Say Never
GENRE: YA YA Romance

When we got home, Mom was sitting on the living room couch, waiting for us. 

“Never do that to me again,” she said to me, her voice flat.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t know if she would give me another reason to scare her that way, to keep me from wanting to come home. I stomped up the stairs and slammed the door.

The yelling started. First Dad, pissed off that Mom had exposed me to this in the first place. Then Mom, complaining about raising me all on her own while he traveled, and that I grew more and more distant and angry. Then Dad, who complained about a whole host of things, differences in parenting, Mom putting pressure on me to be however she wanted me to be. Mom said Dad was too lax with me. Dad said she wasn’t who he married. Mom said she missed when he was fun. Dad laughed bitterly at that.

All the while, I sat on my bed, my arms wrapped around my knees, fervently wishing I could disappear. After a while, the words started to blur together. Dad’s bellow and Mom’s shriek blended together into cacophonous noise. I clapped my hands over my ears.

Anger started in my center and spread like a black hole, a violent force that crushed everything it came into contact with until I was all gone. I twisted with the emotion, screaming into my pillow, kicking my mattress, sick to fucking death of every nasty word spoken in this house, of the feeling that I should have done something to fix them, of how damn little I could actually do about it. The impotence of it dissolved into tears, cutting hot trails down my cheeks.

 

Drop the Needle: ANGER #5

TITLE: THE GROWING SEASON
GENRE: YA Thriller

This scene is just before the MC’s stepfather brings the family home from an outing.  What they don’t know is that he intends to lock them away forever.

###

“Get in,” he says.  “All of you. I’m taking you guys for a treat.”

            And we do get inside the old pickup truck that’s been our transportation forever. The seats are torn in places, the front smells like stale beer.  My mother doesn’t even seem to smell it—it’s not her thing, to register something like that or comment.  Everything with her, eyes, ears, nose, are always focused somewhere else, so she can smell, hear, and see things we can’t.  In her head, locked in the pages of the fantasy novels she keeps stuffed on the shelves in their bedroom.  

            The ice cream shop is on Main.  Cleo and I watch as it gets closer, a small glass-fronted building with a candy-striped awning.  Half a dozen kids are licking cones on the sidewalk outside.  The truck picks up speed, then shoots past them in a spray of gravel that leaves some of them covering their faces or looking, stunned, at the cones they’d dropped on the sidewalk.  We turn and watch, Cleo and I, and Cleo says, “I thought we were going to stop.”

            “Do you deserve ice cream?” He says from the front.  I don’t know how he can hear us, except that he’s death and, presumably, death hears everything.  I don’t know how to answer—did we do anything that would mean punishment, even punishment by omission?  

Drop the Needle: ANGER #4

TITLE: Kingdom of the Keys: The Initiation
GENRE: MG Fantasy

Lead-in: The morning after learning that the book left by his elderly friend is a portal to an invisible realm, twelve-year-old Adam visits his neighbor and confronts him, struggling with underlying feelings of abandonment by a father he's never known.

“You knew but didn’t tell me?” Adam huffed. “How could you do that?”

Mr. King didn’t respond, but the circles under his eyes spoke of his exhaustion and his eyes told of a great sadness. Adam ignored them.

“Why would you leave and not tell me how it works?” He stomped to the kitchen table and fanned the book’s pages. “Must be nice someone cared enough about you to give you a heads-up, so you never wrote in it.”

The accusation shot out like an invisible blow. Mr. King flinched but remained silent.

“Fine! Don’t talk.” Adam slammed the book shut. “Just sit there, drink your coffee, and let your stupid orchids keep you company!” He marched to the door.   

“Adam . . . ” The weak plea traveled across the room. “I did not know how to explain the book to you. It was willed to me when I was just a boy.” 

Adam turned but only enough to see that his neighbor was still speaking to his cup. 

“Would you have believed me had I said something?”

Adam’s jaw clenched. He probably wouldn’t have believed the book was a portal. He would have thought the old man had gone senile. But that didn’t matter. Mr. King had stirred up feelings so painful, it was just easier to be angry.

“I don’t know if I would’ve believed you,” Adam snarled and grabbed the doorknob. “But we’ll never know because you didn’t care enough to stick around and try.”

Drop the Needle: ANGER #3

TITLE: Windcaller
GENRE: Adult Fantasy

Tlanis, a member of the lowly clayshaper caste, has been falsely accusely of theft. naShola, a noble woman with many secrets, has tried and failed to prevent his arrest.

They were calming discussing responsibilities and culpabilities while Tlanis crouched in the dirt, his face caked with blood. naShola wanted to scream, to crack the earth beneath them, to call down lightning and burn them all to ash. She clenched her jaw until she felt the bones might break.

“As for you, clayshaper,” enSureth declared, striding toward Tlanis, “your fate shall be kinder, perhaps, than you deserve. No unnecessary torment. The hanging will be at noon. A quick death. Then we shall put this all behind us.”

Tlanis met naShola’s gaze. Blood dripped from a shallow gash in his forehead. There was a bruise around his eye. But his mouth was a steady, fearless line.

She could barely keep standing. “Why did you do it?” she whispered.

He didn’t even blink. “I didn’t.”

naShola’s frown deepened. “What do you mean?”

“Come, my girl,” enSureth said, taking naShola’s arm firmly. 

naShola struggled as he pulled her away from Tlanis. “Wait. Let me go; I want to know --”

“Take him to the platform,” enSureth called to the guards. His grip grew tighter against naShola’s writhings. “I shall be there momentarily.”

“Let me go!” naShola had given up all pretense. She didn’t care what it meant for her prestige or place among the nobles; she didn’t care that enSureth was the prince who owned nearly a quarter of the Plateau. She elbowed him in the stomach, kicked his shins, clawed his arms. He let out a holler of pain and finally released her.

Drop the Needle: ANGER #2

TITLE: The Bug Collector's Bucket List
GENRE: YA Contemporary

K.J. and Becka,18 y/o cousins, have grown up hating one another thanks to a long-time dispute between their mothers. After their grandpa dies, he asks them to fullfill his bucket list (to get their inheritance). Things have come to a head at Yellowstone.

 

My reaction is automatic. I shove her away, forcing her to stumble several steps backward.

   Her eyes widen in surprise and then quickly narrow. “You. . .” She doesn’t finish the insult but shoves me back with an amazing amount of force for someone her size. 

    “Hey!” I yell. Anger flashes through me. I’m suddenly back in the sixth grade, having it out with Charlie McDonald, the bully of bus number nine. I push Becka back with everything I’ve got. This time, she squeals as she loses her balance and teeters close to the edge. But with cat-like reflexes, she manages to duck down and recover her balance. As she squares up at me, the look on her face is murderous. Okay, maybe I went a bit too far that time. I open my mouth to apologize, but before I can say a word, she draws a fist back and throws a punch which lands just below my left eye. 

    Specks of light cloud my vision, and the world around me spins. Now I’m worried I’ll be the one to fall into the acid water. “Son of a. . .”

    “Girls!” Johan yells, and he’s suddenly between us. He places a steadying hand on my shoulder. “Stop it.”

    I hold the injured side of my face while Becka looks half-mortified, half-triumphant. The rest of our group stands there, gawking at us like we’re circus freaks. No one says a word. Guess they didn’t see that coming. 

    But shit, neither did I. 

 

 

 

Drop the Needle: ANGER #1

TITLE: Kites in the Storm
GENRE: YA Fantasy

Context- Dev's brother has just been consumed by his gods. Dev hid in a corner while they did it, afraid, ignoring his brother's cries for help. Now he's angry and ashamed. The gods prey on fear, so his anger is the only thing keeping them away.

He kicked and screamed into the void, anger burning through his veins. He wanted to destroy something, hurt someone. But there was no one in the cell besides himself.

So be it.

Dev began banging his head against the door, punching its cold, hard metal with fists bunched up tight. Screaming in frustration, he kicked at the walls, again, and again, with as much force as he could, until he felt slick, sticky blood between his toes.

But the rage was dimming now. Its flame was leaving him, and without it was only darkness. He tried to grab hold of the anger, slamming his fists half-heartedly against the wall, but it slipped his grasp, and after a long, dreadful moment, it winked out.

Awareness flooded into his body, and with it, overwhelming fear.

No. Not this.

He had to fill the emptiness with something, something to stave away the darkness, to keep the fear at bay. For in the fear they waited, beckoning, and in the fear waited a truth that could not possibly be true. He couldn't let it be true. In the darkness waited madness.

But the anger was nowhere to be found. It had all leaked out of him, leaving him cold and clammy and shivering.

What else?

Dev became aware of a dull throbbing in his left foot, where his big toe was. He knelt down in the darkness, probing at the toe with eager fingers.

Critique Round: Drop the Needle

It's time to drop the needle and read excerpts from anywhere in your (completed or WIP) novel!

For those of you who are new to this term: "Drop the Needle" was an inhumane way for college music professors to test us to see if we knew the piece and composer. It's much harder to identify something you don't know well if you don't start at the beginning!

We're going to make things easier for our readers, though, by including a brief lead-in to each scene, to help ground us in the moment.

The focus of the scene: ANGER

Anger has so many forms--explosive, slow-and-burning, vindictive, righteous, stuffed-deep-inside. Show us a scene where your character is expressing ANGER.

Here are the submission guidelines:

*To enter, please use THE SUBMISSION FORM HERE.
*THIS WILL BE A LOTTERY (because last time submissions filled up pretty quickly): The submission window will be open from NOON to 7:00 PM EDT THIS FRIDAY, after which the bot will randomly select 25 entries.
*Send a 250-word scene that displays ANGER in one or more of your characters.
*IMPORTANT: Include a 30-40 word lead-in to set the scene for us.
*Only ONE ENTRY per person per contest. If you send more than one, your subsequent entry(ies) will be rejected.
*250 words is the maximum, not the requirement. Please do not stop in the middle of a
*Posts will go live on MONDAY (May 27) for public critique.

GO HERE to submit via our web form.

Ask your questions below! (Or on Twitter. I'll see them more quickly there.)

Drop the Needle: Critique Guidelines

Okay, folks, here we go!  Let's see how well we do with sexual tension.

(There are 11 entries instead of 10 because several people ran into technical difficulties while trying to enter.  I took their entries and put them in manually, and since there were fewer than 10 entries this time, I just took everyone's.  I mean, why leave out one person? :) )

Guidelines for Critique on MSFV:

• Please leave your critique for each entry in the comment box for that entry.
• Please choose a screen name to sign your comments. The screen name DOES NOT have to be your real name; however, it needs to be an identifiable name.  ("Anonymous" is not a name.)
• Critiques should be honest but kind, helpful but sensitive.
• Critiques that attack the writer or are couched in unkind words will be deleted.*
• ENTRANTS: As your way of "giving back", please critique a minimum of 3 other entries.

*I can't possibly read every comment.  If you ever see a comment that is truly snarky, please email me.  I count on your help.

Drop the Needle #11

Title: Rewriting History
Adult Contemporary Romance

Camilla and Ellis meet again after an errant kiss and a two-year separation.

Camilla reached for her wallet to pay for a much-needed cup of tea. Only her bag wasn't there.

“S***.”

“How about you add her order to mine? I’ll take a cappuccino, please.”

Ellis Jones materialized at her elbow pushing a crisp twenty across the counter. She swallowed hard while her stomach did a little flip.

“Thank you. Again. Seems you’re destined to come to my aid.”

Ellis nodded. “Was it sprained?” He peered at her sock-covered foot. Under his gaze, each of the Hello Kitties scattered across the toe seemed to shrivel up from embarrassment. She wanted to do the same.

“Mildly.”

They moved away from the counter. Ellis slowed to match her hobbled gait.

“I’m Ellis, by the way.” His eyes were even bluer than she remembered.

“Camilla Tanner.” She watched his face carefully but the expression never changed. Something in her sank a little. He didn’t remember.

“Where are you headed?”

“I have a Public Policy presentation in a half-hour.”

A tapping overhead drew their attention. A frantic Sunny leaned over the railing tapping his wrist. ‘Hurry up,’ he mouthed.

“Team member,” Camilla added in explanation. “If I don’t hurry, there’ll be fighting over the slide fonts again.”

“Never underestimate the power of a good font.”

“Ah, but which one? Arial or Calibri?”

“No contest. I’m an economist, we scoff at Calibri.”

She swore his lips quirked. Oh, two could play this game.

“Really?" She tilted her head. "I’m more of a Baskerville girl myself.”

“Baskerville? As in hounds?” Ellis laughed, and she nearly melted. “That’s not a real font. You’re joking.”

“It is!” She grinned and tucked her hair behind her ear. “But, I am.”

Wide-eyed and smiling, he looked so boyish. And adorable. Camilla stared at the floor to hide her s***-eating grin.

Drop the Needle #10

Title: A THOUSAND YEARS TO WAIT
Young Adult Fantasy

Reina and Quinn’s group has just escaped a surprise attack as they traveled through a mountain pass. After hard riding, they have set up camp for the night. Quinn and another companion have suffered mild wounds and Reina, as Healer, is tending to Quinn. 

I continued to hold the cloth to Quinn’s face as my eyes fell upon the dark stains on his tunic.

Finally, I asked, “What happened? To what chaos did we leave you?”

Quinn did not immediately respond. Instead, he reached a warm hand up, closing it gently over mine as he pulled it down and cradled my palm in his.

“Do not ask to know the details of death, Reina,” he said, his eyes dark.

I opened my mouth to reply, but was unable to find a suitable response. Did he think me too weak to hear of death? Did he think I’d never seen it myself? It was true that most of my experiences with death were due to illness and old age, but I had seen blood, I had seen pain, and I knew what waited in the end.

“Ah, settle, Reina,” he said upon seeing the fight in my eyes. “’Twas not an insult against you.”

I did not hesitate this time. “What am I to think?”

He covered my hand with both of his, rubbing a calloused thumb lightly against my palm. “You’ve too much life within you to hear of death. I would sooner steal the song from the meadowlark than dampen your light with talk of darkness.”

Wide-eyed, I found my lungs reluctant to fill with air. “What talk is this?” I managed in a whisper.

Quinn dropped my hand.

“Antony,” he said loudly. “You’ve a wounded arm. Let Moreina tend to you.”

Drop the Needle #9

Title: Will Not Fade Away
Adult Women's Fiction

 A.J.(Audrey Jane) met Reid while on her journey cross-country to locate her missing son after a volcanic eruption. Reid is a mysterious man fighting his own past demons. A.J. is on the road of healing, while juggling widowhood and parenthood to an autistic child. They’re sharing a hotel room at this stop. Reid wakes from a nightmare. He lifted our locked hands and placed one on his chest.

Dear God.

Perhaps it was my need for soulful resuscitation and human intimacy. Perhaps it was my vulnerability. Or perhaps I liked him.

…a man who had proven himself enough to earn a ticket on our trip…a kindred spirit who had wiggled his way into my heart the slightest…an attractive man who stirred my once dusty desires off and brought them bursting to the surface…

He pulled me toward him, and I allowed it. His kiss was warm, heavy, and slow. It was g****** intoxicating and I drank it in like a parched desert cactus. The stubble on his chin brushed my face. Tender lips caressed mine in a simple, sexy, non-intrusive way. Our hands remained interlaced, one set on his cheek, one set on his heart. God, oh, how I had forgotten what desire was like. His mouth was inviting and stirred me.

He removed his hand from mine on his cheek and drew it to the base of my head, urging me closer for a deeper kiss. His touch tickled the fine hairs on the nape of my neck. He tasted like chocolate and sleep. Before it went too far, he pulled away and stared at me, only inches from my face, dark eyes swirling with sentiment, a slight smirk upon his lips. I exhaled. He held my gaze for a long could-hear-the-clock-ticking-in-my-head moment, and then he fell on his pillow, closed his eyes, and was asleep.

Drop the Needle #8

TITLE: One of the Lucky Ones
GENRE: YA Contemporary

Annie and Liz are teens getting ready for a night out, who don't quite realize they’re in a friends-to-lovers story, yet. Annie is going to wake up in the middle of the night tonight and figure it out, which will make everything a lot worse (for a while).

Liz was sitting in the living room when I came down. As I descended the stairs (slowly, because heels) she rose and just stood there, watching me. When I reached the bottom she came to meet me in the front hall, with a look in her eyes I couldn't read. Whatever it was, it affected my breathing.

She reached out a hand, but dropped it halfway. "You look amazing."

"Thank you." I couldn't tear my eyes away from her.

"Let's check us out." She opened the hall closet, exposing the full length mirror attached to the inside of the door, and we stood side by side. She shook her head. "The mirror's not wide enough." She took a step back and moved partway behind me, so her head was over my shoulder. She rested her hand on the small of my back.

I turned so I was angled in and we made a sort of "v." This meant that her next words, "You're beautiful," were breathed into my ear. I got chills all the way down my back and to my toes, and a growing warmth everywhere else. The contrast was startling and highly distracting, as was the hand gliding across my back and around my waist. I locked eyes with her reflection and felt myself lean back into her arms.

With what was left of my breath I whispered, "So are you." Whatever I might have said or thought next, if anything, was interrupted by Dad's voice.

Drop the Needle #7

TITLE: Sugar Bea
GENRE: YA Contemporary

Though my mouth gets the Sahara dry feeling again, I push past it and the fear of an Amy Shumacker moment. “Would you like to eat with me?”

She looks around the mostly empty restaurant. “Aren’t you closed?”

I stare down at my boots and then force myself to look back at her. “Yes. But I meant like on a date?”
Is that even a thing? Going on a date?

“When?” She taps the top of her cello case.

But she doesn’t seem to care one way or the other if I call it a date. “Now. How about now?”

“Where’re we going? It’s pretty late.”

“I could make you something…” I swallow. No. This isn’t really how I want our first date to go. “Wait. Can I start over? What are you doing next Sunday?”

She smiles.

Melting.

“Nothing.”

“Good. I’d like to take you on a date.”

She slides one finger over the top of the case. “There’s nothing wrong with a Sunday date, but couldn’t we do something Saturday night?”

Ugh. “Yes and no. I kinda have to work, but maybe we could go somewhere after I get off?”

Holland pushes the cello back and forth. “Well I kind of thought maybe you’d cook some of those mac and cheese balls for me.”

It’d be so much better if I could cook for her at my house. But Momma prevents that from happening. I step closer to her, catching her scent when she leans against her case.

Drop the Needle #6

TITLE: SAMURAI RACING
GENRE: YA Science Fiction

Only two days until the (flying) motorcycle race in Tokyo, a group of racers spend the evening doing karaoke. Hiroki doesn’t know that Aya is a thief and has stolen from him.

Cushioned seats lined the perimeter of the private room and a large screen displayed the song options. Minutes later Ji-ho was doing an amazing impression of a Korean singer. She handed the remote to me next, but I passed. I didn’t know any of the songs, nor did I need the added embarrassment of singing in public. Then Yumi Sasakawa sang a Disney song I vaguely knew, complete with hand motions.

Hiroki volunteered, as Waku was very occupied devouring a sushi roll. He grabbed the remote, a small smile played at the corner of his mouth. I forced myself to look away from him.

Hiroki started singing.

I tried not to look at him. I felt embarrassed for him, as if everyone would be looking at how I was taking his song choice, which was a romantic song about finding true love among the stars. His voice wasn’t great, but it was soothing and he belted out the song with an enthusiasm none of the previous singers had attempted. I kept my eyes glued on the food and tried to remember how much I looked at Li Min while she was singing so I could look at Hiroki the exact same number of times.

Finally, with a low warble he finished the song. Yumi, Li Min and Waku cheered and clapped as Hiroki took a dramatic bow. Then I glanced at him. As he stood back up our eyes met and I couldn’t breathe. He gave me a small smile before going to sit down and I realized with a start that I was in love with him.

 Wow, Aya, bad timing.

Drop the Needle #5

TITLE: Ravenseele
GENRE: YA Fantasy

Ashlynn has accepted a bounty to kill a monster. When the other mercenaries turn on her, Van, a stranger, steps in to fight at her side. Together they don’t just dispatch their attackers, but the monster as well.
Later, Ashlynn’s tutor, a talented mage shows up. Van conveniently disappears. When he reappears he questions Ashlynn about her magic and her tutor.

“The Thorn,” Ashlynn clarifies. “He’s a tutor. Nothing more.”
Van’s expression is too cheerful—disbelieving.
Ashlynn stretches her stiff arms. “The magic you saw were merely tricks. My real talent is with a blade.”
“In this particular instance, you’re being a tad modest. Those were not mere tricks.”
She smirks. “Is that a compliment?”
Van taps her steel arm. “And this?”
“Strong motivation to master those tricks.”
“A wizard did that to you.” Van crouches low to pull at something in the grass.
Ashlynn is grateful to be rid of his searching eyes. She swallows her dread. “…And a wizard prevented it from taking my life.”
When Van stands, there’s a pink flower between his fingertips. “This wizard who cursed your arm, was he by chance…known as the Alchemist? A mage obsessed with metals?”
Ashlynn’s world begins to tilt. “H-how did you guess?” How does he know a thing about mages? She wonders.
Van extends the flower. When Ashlynn reaches for it, he steps playfully backward, his smile as delicate as the breeze across Ashlynn’s skin.
She darts after it like a provoked child, but he has fooled her. It takes him just a half a step forward for them to converge like lovers joining a dance.
Ashlynn breathes in his honey-cypress scent as he tucks the flower behind her ear.
“I hate to tell you these things,” Van whispers.
Ashlynn can see nothing but rain-colored eyes and lashes made of gold.
“But the Alchemist and the Thorn were friends.”

Drop the Needle #4

TITLE: The Shoemaker's Daughter
GENRE: YA Retelling

 

Retelling of the twelve dancing princesses. The oldest princess has come to give the soldier a goblet of wine.

 

 

She pulled her fingers back to be certain his did not touch hers.

“You say you’re a Samson,” she challenged.

“You are the Delilah aren’t you?”

The abrasion of his words made her flinch.  He saw her as she had been in the library.  Yet in that moment the firmness returned.  Her eyes fixed upon the goblet.

Hesitation would cause suspicion.  Without thought, he took a gulp.   Immediately he was gagging in realization that he was killing himself.  He spit, wiping his sleeve across his mouth.  With horror, he looked at the princess.  He had spewed all over her.  Liquid dribbled down her face like tears.  He knew she was not crying although her chin trembled.  Ignoring his impulse, he stiffly offered a handkerchief.  She jerked away from him.

He couldn’t restrain himself, despite her fury.  He was beside her, grasping her shoulder and wiping her face as one would a messy toddler, gently pushing her hair back as he wiped it dry.  She didn’t struggle but stood rigid.  He traced the contours of her face with the handkerchief.  He had been intent on his task but now done, he looked at her.  He sensed her breath, the rise and fall of her shoulders, felt her warmth.  He released her.  She fell away from him, backing into the princesses who had gathered, drawn to the commotion.

Now he felt fresh humiliation.  He’d made a spectacle in front of so many.  This was not the place for emotion.  That was dangerous.

Drop the Needle #3

TITLE: The Guesser - Book One in the Hangman Series
GENRE: YA Dystopian, Romance, Adventure

Hangman hangings take place around the world. Jason is a Guesser. Maydah is a Hanger. They are old friends who have reunited after a tragedy, and now are fated for love and death. Jason attends his first high school party - for Maydah’s 17th birthday. Haley and Justin are Maydah’s friends. Can Jason handle the heat on the dance floor?

I’m standing still in a sea of moving bodies. Haley hip checks me into Maydah. It breaks her dancing reverie.

“Ow!” Maydah mocks fake pain.

Haley laughs and pulls Justin closer.

“I’m sorry, someone bumped into me,” I yell.

Thankfully the DJ mixes a change in the music.

“Of course - a slow song,” I turn to leave, but Maydah grabs my shoulder.

“Get over yourself, Jason. Just-” she takes my hands and puts them on her hips, then she wraps her arms around my neck. She smells like strawberries and beer. “There. See? Not so bad.”

She hiccups. Rests her head on my shoulder.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Divine!” she slurs. Then she whips her head back. “Dip me!”

I barely catch her before she falls. Her body fits with mine. I like the feeling of her in my arms.
She swings her head back up and I dodge it by a hair. “You’re a dancer! A good one!” she claps her eyelashes together, and leans her head back on my shoulder.

I try to move my feet to the music but I’m basically carrying Maydah’s full weight as she leans into me, so it’s a bit of a challenge. For all of me.

“Jason?” Maydah lifts her head. Her eyes are watery. The fleck is small, but there.

“Yeah?”

“Jason…I don’t-” she parts her glistening lips, then covers them with her hands but her fingers don’t stop the puke that spews through. Onto my neck and shirt.

Drop the Needle #2

TITLE: A Terrible Thing
GENRE: Adult Horror

Walter finds his best friend Ellyn at the top of her homemade rock-climbing wall. He’s afraid of heights, but he’s more afraid of staying put.


He was sweating within the first ten feet. Like he’d hit the halfway point of a marathon in the dead of summer, his clothes were positively sticky. The wind blew harder twenty feet up than it had on solid ground, though he doubted that explained why his arms and legs shook the way they did. It would have been easier if he’d been able to put any weight on his right foot, but a lot of things would have been easier had he not had a reason to hop into bed with Oliver.

Ellyn hollered down encouragements, but at thirty feet, forty feet, Walter’s head swam too much, his heart crashed too hard to give her the attention she deserved. Then a hand grabbed his. Calloused and chalky, a rush of sweet warmth swept through him, and he pulled himself up and over the wall, flopped down onto the plywood floor. She rolled him over and pulled his head into her lap. She rubbed her hands through his hair, laughing.

“God, you are so gross!”

He smiled weakly. She returned it with a grin, only she was looking at him upside down.

“Still tough to believe people pay to do that.” His heart continued to va-boom, but he expected that when he was with Ellyn McAdams. But he did not expect her to kiss him. Soft at first, but then harder, more urgent, and now he was off his back and she was on hers. She tapped him on the arm. He stopped.

“Sorry,” he said.

“Lenny’s inside.”