Tag Archives: fiction

Story Time, Paused for Now

Hey all! Thank you so much for reading the first two pages of my debut novel. I have been having a hard week, and I think I should wait to post the rest after it has gone through another round of edits. When that happens, next month! I’ll throw the whole thing up here behind a cut, and you can check it out if you would like.

Now, I have a request. I need beta readers. I already have one that I know of (I’m looking at you Ms. Cedar), but I would like to have at least two more. If you don’t know what a beta-reader is, I’ll explain it to you. It is someone who reads a text with a critical eye for plot discrepancies, atrocious grammar, and boring ideas. Wikipedia has a better description, as my brain is a little dead from all the glorious spring time pollen. Please forgive me.

If you are interested in reading the first, second, or third book, leave a comment, or email me. I would love to get some feedback from people who aren’t my lovely husband. (He has to root for me.)

Thank you all for understanding. If anyone wants to read the rest of the chapter, send me a message with an email address, and I’ll send it your way.

Thanks for reading, please share. 

Story Time-Ch1-Pg2

Thank you all for reading yesterday. Here is the second page of my debut novel, Ruby and the Killer Amp. I hope you enjoy and share! As always, comments are appreciated.

The hall on the second floor was especially creaky. I didn’t want to wake up any of my housemates, so I eased open my door and tiptoed to the bathroom. I shared the upstairs with the twins (named because of looks and habits, not biology), Eva and Evan; Blake had the ground floor room; and Corey had run of the basement. We got along alright and managed to pay the rent on time. So far, it had been a great housing situation. I had lived in worse places.

I was careful to avoid the squeaky spot in front of Eva’s room. I knew she’d been out later than me last night, and would kill me if I woke her up early. It would almost be worth it to see the look on her face, she was extra cute when she first woke up. Finally, I got to the bathroom and closed the door after myself.

Our bathroom was cool and clean, it was the soothing balm I needed for my pounding headache. I was glad that the twins were neat-freaks like me. Blake’s room would make frat boys on a bender proud. I turned the water on as hot as I could stand it, and sighed as I stepped into the steaming shower. There was nothing like showering in a nice clean tub, even if it was an old claw foot and the curtain occasionally got a little friendly.

After I got out of the shower, I finished my bathroom routine. It was quick and easy: face lotion, deodorant, the morning floss and toothbrush, then I wrapped a towel around me and repeated the careful walk back to my room. I stood in front of the closet and wondered what to wear for work. Not that it mattered. I wore almost the same outfit every day. Inevitably, I chose some variation of jeans, t-shirt, and hoodie. If I was feeling glamorous, I would throw on an argyle sweater. Today felt like an all-black day and that suited me just fine, though I did throw on my favorite robot socks just for kicks.

I checked my appearance in the mirror; the dark clothing looked good against my pale skin. The light coming in from the window showed the ruddy-brown highlights in my elbow length, wavy, black hair. My face was thinner than I liked, and I kept threatening to get a nose job. My mom always said I should be proud of my Irish and Slavic heritage, and for the most part I was. I felt like my best facial feature was my eyes. They were big, with arched brows, a pretty hazel-brown, and rimmed in thick black lashes. Aside from my little beer belly, I was thin without looking scrawny. I wouldn’t mind being taller than my five foot three, but that’s why the gods invented boots. One last look over in the mirror, and I decided I was good for the day.

Story Time-Ch1-Pg1

I have been reading about the Events in Boston today, and am worn out. My heart goes out to the families involved. Stay safe and hug your loved ones. My guys will be getting extra snuggles tonight. Since I can’t imagine coming up with a coherent Grammar lesson, I thought I would try something different and post the first page of Ruby and the Killer Amp. If you all like it, I’ll post a page a day until the chapter is done. I’m wondering what people will think, and if there will be any interest. Any feedback would be great. And here we go. FYI, all text belongs to me.

Chapter 1-Ruby and the Killer Amp

As soon as I woke up, I knew that my day had started wrong. I woke before it was fully light outside; my insomnia had kicked in again. I rolled over and looked at the alarm clock.

Oh man, is that really the time? I thought.

My vision was slightly blurry, and I could feel the hangover starting from the night before. I had consumed too many PBRs and cheap whisky shots. I would have to give Sven hell for not cutting me off. Not that he was my keeper or anything, but wow. I felt terrible.

It was early, not even six am. What had woken me up? I wondered.

It was probably nothing more than house sounds. I had been living in this house for six months now, and I still wasn’t used to its creaks and groans. It was a beautiful, old, craftsman style house, but it was noisy. I was betting that my housemates would still be sleeping. None of us worked until after ten, we all liked it that way. Eva and Corey were both on the closing shift at the coffee shop; and I worked with Blake and Evan at Slate’s Guitars, we didn’t have to be in until eleven thirty. That is, when I made it in on time.

“Ugg . . . need coffee.” I said aloud.

Even though I was running on three or so hours of sleep, I knew I wouldn’t be able to go back to bed. Sleeplessness was a curse I had learned to live with. I might as well get up and enjoy the morning. A shower would be the first order of business. Maybe that would clear some of the cobwebs from my head. Then some toast, my stomach was a little wobbly. Suddenly, the urge to get out of bed overwhelmed me. I had never been good at staying still, and that problem seemed worse late at night and early in the morning. I hated waking up early.

I stretched and heaved off my covers. I took one last lingering look at my bed, wishing I could fall back to sleep. At least my room was nice and tidy. The early morning light caught the clean lines of my bookcases and poorly matched, but well taken care of, bed set. I looked out my window; amazingly, there were no clouds in the sky. Sunshine was a rare occurrence for Portland in November. I loved how the light shined through the bare trees and bounced off the frost still clinging to the shadows. The view was making the morning a little more bearable.