Linda Winfree

Available Today: UNCOVERED

2009-07-07T12:14:00.002-05:00

http://new.mybookstoreandmore.com/shop/product.da/uncovered

Contest Winner

2009-07-06T20:15:00.000-05:00

Just had Monster #2 pull a winner for my 24-Hour "What Happened" Contest . . . and the winner is . . .

Rhonda Wolf!

Rhonda, drop me an email at linda_winfree at yahoo.com and tell me what format you'd like Uncovered in and I'll get it to you ASAP.

Thanks to everyone who entered and I hope to see you all tomorrow for the release of Uncovered.

One-Day Contest: UNCOVERED

2009-07-06T09:26:00.001-05:00

Want to win a copy of UNCOVERED (or the choice of my backlist in ebook)?

Then here's how to enter.

Read the chapter one excerpt at http://www.samhainpublishing.com/coming/uncovered . Send me your best, wildest guess at what you think is the answer to "What happened?"

Email your guess with "What Happened" Contest in the subject line to linda_winfree at yahoo.com before 9:00 PM EST on Monday, July 6. I'll announce the winner here at the Cafe then.

July TTD

2009-07-05T23:08:00.002-05:00

More list than month, I'm afraid.

School:

1) Reread articles/chapters from graduate work
2) Revise management plan
3) Revise units, write new units, break down to daily level
4) Clean out file cabinets
5) Make new 9th/11th notebooks for the year
6) One Act plan

Writing:

1) Paranormal (20K -- eek!)
2) Make headway on something

Home:

1) Help Monsters organize their closets
2) Clean out my closet, make Goodwill run
3) Landscaping. Lots and lots of landscaping . . .

Throw in all the grand jury stuff, too.

What's July look like for you?

UNCOVERED is, well, COVERED.

2009-06-11T08:40:00.002-05:00

It's Official

2009-05-10T20:16:00.003-05:00

My senior babies are gone . . . I'm going to miss them sooooo much!

I Realize . . .

2009-05-06T21:45:00.002-05:00

. . . I must be the world's most boring blogger. The most interesting thing I'm involved in at the moment, I can't talk about. School is school -- I'm stressing the EOCT next week like I never have before. I'm already making plans for next year, which will surprise no one who actually knows me. Monster #2 and I are both jonesing for a beach trip, but have agreed that once we actually have the pool installed, that might work as a substitute.

There are only twelve more days of school!

Stuff

2009-05-05T21:38:00.003-05:00

There are frogs everywhere! Little hoppy mini-frogs. A miniature plague. I'm hoping they grow up to eat mosquitos.

School is sooo close to being over. I'm ready. Next week is EOCT testing -- I'm not confident about it at all.

Turned in assignment one for my last grad course. Connie is laughing at me because now my portfolio has shown up to bite me.

No writing tonight. Grand jury committee meeting, then . . . oh, yeah. I read the new Lorelei James novella.

What's new with you?

Miscellaneous Ramblings

2009-05-03T19:08:00.002-05:00

Print galleys on Fall Into Me finally done -- this is why I am NOT a procrastinator.

Only 15 more days of school. I am soooo thankful. I need summer.

Still in a reading slump. Of course, I've been reading my own work the last week, so that might be why. I don't want to read much of anything. Except Better Homes & Gardens and Southern Living.

Starting week one of my final master's level course. Scheduled to graduate in June or July. Still haven't made a decision about post-master's work. The idea of being further in student loan debt when Monster #1 is going to college in a few years scares me.

What are you up to on this Sunday evening?

Popping In

2009-05-02T20:51:00.002-05:00

Working on print galleys for Fall Into Me.

Booksigning for Memories of Us went relatively well -- my mother and sisters always come to hang out and I did sell several copies as well as copies from my backlist. One lady bought my entire backlist -- that was really cool.

Need to be working on Gone as well as my anthology novella. See print galley note above. ;-)

Came home with three books today. Had the hardest time picking them out. Leigh and I talked about both of us being in a reading slump. Not sure what's going on with me, but nothing seems to appeal. Maybe once school is out . . .

Congrats!

2009-05-01T20:30:00.001-05:00

Dr. Partridge, I presume?

Finally!

2009-05-01T20:03:00.002-05:00

Monday was a teacher in-service day. Some of those, I get tons accomplished. Some of those, not so much. Monday was so-so, as I did get plans ready for the week and all junior poetry folders checked off. I did spend an hour simply gabbing with Connie and Wayne and Joey (who eloped over spring break!).

So Connie, the big tease, leans back in her chair and says, "I read this book on the way back from Disney . . ."

She grins and I just knew. I knew. She'd finally read Fall Into Me, which has been loaded on her Sony reader since she bought one just to torture me. I pounced. "What did you think?"

Wayne and Joey are clueless, of course, but Connie grins and says, "I loved it."

High praise, I'm telling you. Connie reads a lot and her praise is sparing. As she told me, she's read all my books except Memories of Us, Hearts Awakened and Facing It, but FIM was the first one to stay with her after it was over. She loved Troy Lee, loved his background, etc. and she liked that Angel was an independent woman.

I've been dying for Connie to read this book because I wanted to ask her what she thought of the resolution. So for the past six weeks or so, she's kept me waiting while she worked on her doctoral portfolio. (BTW, I'm not even allowed to mention said portfolio in her presence -- she is NOT making me want to work on my doctorate!)

At that point, we proceeded to confuse Joey and Wayne even further as we talked about the ending, her opinion of it, the options I had, the Georgia law that could have been my easy way out but which would have been all wrong for the characters, reader feedback I've received, etc. I'm pretty sure Joey and Wayne were happy when we finally shut up (we continued the conversation over lunch, at least until we got into the unique ways Connie solves power struggles . . . I'm going to steal her life for a book one day.).

Finally being able to discuss the book with her was worth it, though, because I can always count on totally honest feedback and a depth of discussion with her. I can talk and even argue with her and it's okay, because at the end of it all, we're still friends (although we're still arguing her reader response to What Mattered Most two years later . . .).

I wonder what would happen if I texted her the word "porfolio" . . .? :-D

Sunday Morning Check-In

2009-04-11T18:35:00.002-05:00

I am sooo ready for summer. Only about a month and a half! I would say I'm ready for spring break, but someone has jury duty that week.

What I need to accomplish this week:

1) Make senior board speeches run smoothly (Tues, Wed., Thurs.)
2) Stay on top of junior poetry anthology checkpoints
3) Teach poetry to freshmen
4) Somehow get derailed Canterbury Tales unit back on track (thanks, bad weather!).
5) Grade revised junior research papers
6) Write week 7 and week 8 essays for EDUC 6657 (I'm trying to finish early)
7) Get to proposal point with Gone
8) Maybe begin working on laying out Layla's story . . .???

What's on your plate for the week?

Samhain Cafe Chat Tonight

2009-04-11T18:35:00.001-05:00

Book Chat: Linda Winfree's Hearts of the South

Date: Saturday April 11, 2009
Time:8:00 pm - 9:00 pm

Come hang out with Linda and chat about the books in her Hearts of the South series. Get behind-the-scenes info, ask questions about your favorite book and characters, or be introduced to the world of fictional Chandler County, Georgia. Hope to see you there!

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/samhaincafe

Because Jenn Asked

2009-04-11T13:15:00.003-05:00

I know, I know. I'm over here on a very spotty basis, but there's been a computer virus, bad weather, and some personal stuff I had to deal with. I'm trying to get life (and thus blogging) back to normal.

Thanks to everyone who dropped by to offer congratulations and comments on the debut of Facing It. (It's hit the top ten at My Bookstore and More! Whoo!)

Jenn asked in the comments what was up next . . . the answer is Uncovered, now in final line edits and set for a summer 2009 release. Here's the blurb:

After nearly twenty years, her career in possible ruins, homicide detective Madeline Holton returns to her hometown for a temporary stint working with the local sheriff's department. Everywhere she turns, the demons of her teen years lie in wait, rising once more in the form of a cold case she must solve . And when it comes to a handsome farmer who’s making good on her family’s former land, she can’t seem to keep her foot out of her mouth—or her hands off him.

Agricultural businessman Ash Hardison won't lie to himself—despite Madeline's obvious issues, he's more drawn to her than any woman he's ever known. He's already laid the ghosts of his past to rest, and he's determined to help Madeline purge hers. Whether she likes it or not.

Because he knows it’s the only way they have a chance to forge a future together.

Here's an edits-in-process excerpt:

“I’m going to see if Cait’s ready to go.” Tick jerked a thumb toward the back door.
Once it closed behind him, Ash slanted a sideways glance at Stanton. “He’s wound pretty tight.”
Stanton huffed a humorless laugh. “No kidding. I thought having Madeline here, taking some of the pressure off him would help. Guess I was wrong.”
“He’ll be fine. He always is.” Ash rested both hands on the counter’s edge and let his gaze travel to the window once more. On the deck, Tick leaned down to lift the baby from Caitlin’s arms and waved Autry to stay seated. Madeline darted another of those secretive looks at him. Ash frowned. Something was…off…there, something he didn’t get.
Was that attraction or dislike that kept her so focused on Tick?
“I hope so. I need him back on his game.” Stanton came to stand beside him. Madeline unfolded from her chair, and as Caitlin and Tick came in the back door, her voice carried in with them.
“I think I’m going to head out as well.” That indefinable strain tightened her words. “Thanks for dinner.”
“You don’t have to go yet.” Autry followed her sister into the room. “It feels like you just got here.”
“It’s been a long day.” Irony laced Madeline’s voice. Tick looked up from placing the baby in his carrier. Palpable tension vibrated between them before he dropped his gaze.
He hefted the infant seat. “Cait? You ready?”
At her nod, they exited in a small flurry of thank-you’s and good-night’s. Autry turned to Madeline. “I wish you’d stay a little longer.”
She shrugged into her jacket. “I have an early day tomorrow.”
“I’ll walk out with you.” Ash pulled his keys from his pocket and leaned down to kiss Autry’s cheek. “Dinner was awesome.”
Madeline eyed him, wariness coloring her features. “You don’t have to.”
He put on an easy grin. “You’re not the only one with an early day ahead of you.”
Outside, a hint of cool air kissed the unseasonable warmth. His truck waited beside her compact sedan and the gravel walk crunched under their feet as they walked toward the vehicles. She glanced back once at the house, a strange hurt flickering over her features before she straightened her shoulders to a near-impossible angle. Unhappiness hung around her like a pall, a loneliness that stopped him from cutting his losses, especially after everything Tick had said, and walking straight to his driver’s side door.
He leaned against the truck’s hood while she unlocked her car. “What do you like to do during your free time?”
With the door partially open, she froze and confusion glinted in her hazel gaze before disappearing beneath shuttered contempt. “You don’t give up, do you?”
“What are you so afraid of?” He spread his elbows to a more comfortable position.
She slammed the door and came to stand before him. Outrage rolled off her in waves. “I’m not afraid of anything. I’ve told you I’m not interested and you won’t back off. End of story.”
Bravado. Lots of ballsy bravado that still didn’t quite cover the soul-deep isolation that shrouded her and called to him. Pushing wouldn’t work with her, though. “If that’s the way you want it.”
“It is.” Her chin lifted to a challenging angle, daring him to dispute her statement.
“Good night, then.” He inclined his head and stepped away from the truck. She backed up, stumbling a bit in her haste. He didn’t reach to steady her, but let her regain her footing alone. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Madeline.”
She snorted. “Sure it was.”
He lifted a hand and strode around to the driver’s side. The old Ford rumbled to life, reliable as ever, and while the cold-natured engine warmed, he patted the gas pedal a couple of times. His wrist draped over the wheel, he watched in the rearview as Madeline reversed hard and flew down the drive. He shook his head and reached for the gearshift.
Confident and breezy, then prickly and wary. Obsessed? Lonely and afraid of connecting.
Like he could walk away from that puzzle without a second thought.

**

For excerpts and info on Facing It, available now, visit http://www.samhainpublishing.com/romance/facing-it

Only a Few More Hours . . .

2009-04-06T21:41:00.001-05:00

Until Facing It releases!

There are worse things than facing your greatest fear.

Facing It by Linda Winfree
A Hearts of the South story.

Tired of living a nightmare, Ruthie Chason takes her courage and her children in hand to flee her husband’s brutality. Yet she’s no fool. She knows he’ll come after her once he discovers she possesses criminal evidence that will put him away for good—and seal her deadly fate if he ever catches up with her.

Sheriff’s Deputy Chris Parker offers emotional refuge, a safe place to begin to reclaim her life…if she can let herself trust the strong, quiet cop that far.

Chris surprises himself when he agrees to act as guardian for Ruthie and her children. He does it as a favor, then finds something about her calm strength soothes his battered soul. Now if only he can silence the demons from his past that make him cautious of falling too fast for any woman.

Their need explodes into a heart-stopping night of passion that exposes their deepest vulnerabilities. But just as they begin to explore how healing love can be, violence tracks them down. And backs them into a desperate corner…

http://www.samhainpublishing.com/coming/facing-it

Things I'm Currently Holding Against Connie

2009-03-22T20:58:00.002-05:00

1) The RED Sony PRS-505.

2) The Mexican food.

3) The shoe shopping.

4) The pedicure.

I could probably add to this. You know, stuff like that the seniors are all math nerds and love Calculus better than the Canterbury Tales.

But you know I lurves you, Connie-gurl.

And I'll forgive you the Sony reader since the first book you bought was Troy Lee's.

The pedicure, though? Still holding onto that one.

Day 19

2009-03-20T05:57:00.003-05:00

*Note: Now that life has stopped trying to eat me whole, I'll begin posting real content soon. Thanks for sticking with me, y'all.

**

“Don’t worry about us, Lorna.” Ruthie pinned on her brightest smile. “We’ll be fine.”
The housekeeper looked doubtful. “But Mr. Chason—”
“Will be out of town until Friday.” If her luck would only hold. Lord, please let him stay gone until then. No “surprise” early returns. “I assure you, I can handle the house while you see to your mother. Please, Lorna, go take care of her.”
Lorna twisted her neat white apron in both hands, the wrinkles by her mouth deepening. “If you’re sure…”
Ruthie smiled so widely her face hurt. “Positive.”
An answering expression bloomed on Lorna’s weary face. “Oh, thank you, Mrs. Chason. I did so want to be with her, but I know Mr. Chason doesn’t like for you to be alone.”
She bestowed a fierce hug on Ruthie, who returned the embrace despite her surprise. When was the last time anyone other than the children had touched her with affection? What she endured from Stephen didn’t count.
Ruthie pulled away, blinking back a rush of silly tears. Crying wasn’t her style, hadn’t been for a very long time now. All crying did was give her a puffy face and burning eyes. It didn’t change a darn thing.
She gave Lorna tiny push toward the back door. “Tell your mother I asked about her.”
After another round of reassurances and goodbyes, she locked the door and rested against it. She couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity. With her legs shaking beneath her, she slipped from the kitchen with its to-die-for granite countertops and professional stainless appliances she was never allowed to use. Late-afternoon sunlight shone through the tall windows of the foyer and splashed on the Italian tile floor. She hurried up the stairs, holding on to the banister, questions and doubts beating in her head.
What if he came home? What if he caught her? What if he didn’t? What if she managed to get away?
The latter was the only one that mattered, the one that spurred her on. This might be her only chance and she meant to take it.
She found the children in the spotless playroom where she’d left them. As always, they were too quiet, John Robert on the window seat with his nose buried in a book, Camille dancing a pair of dolls through the dollhouse, Ainsley curled into the rocker with her stuffed bunny on her lap and her thumb in her mouth. Studying them from the doorway, Ruthie longed for the noise and laughter of her childhood home, for that warmth and joy for her children.
Three more reasons to escape while she could.
She walked to the center of the room and sat cross-legged on the rug. John Robert glanced at her over his book; Camille didn’t look around. Ruthie reached up and pulled Ainsley onto her lap, rubbing her chin against the soft dark hair. “How would you like to go on an adventure?”
Camille dropped the dolls and stared, lips parted, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. John Robert closed his book. “Is Daddy coming?”
Ruthie sucked in a breath. “No. This is a mommy and kids adventure.”
Ainsley hugged her rabbit. “Will there be pirates?”
“Maybe.” Ruthie kissed her youngest daughter’s cheek. “But we need to leave today. Are you ready?”
“Can I take Bun-bun?” Ainsley clutched the lovey harder.
“Yes, and John Robert can take his book and Camille can pick something to take along. But we must hurry.”
She took Ainsley with her to the master suite, aware John Robert trailed her, his small face set in worried lines. “Don’t we need to pack, Mama?”
“I have what we need here.” Standing on her shoe shelf, she tugged the small tote from its hiding place. “I thought we might pick up new clothes along the way.” She needed the house to look as normal as possible, for there to be as few clues as possible to her destination once Stephen returned. “John Robert, we will need Ainsley’s go-bag. Can you get that for me? You can add some juice and snacks, if you like. I’ll be right back.”
He nodded, his eyes still troubled, and her breath caught. Already, he looked so much like her brothers, nothing like Stephen. Please, please, let it not be too late to get him away from his father’s influence. She didn’t want her firstborn, the joy of her heart, to grow up like her husband. She didn’t think she could bear it.
She deposited Ainsley in the playroom again and slipped down the backstairs into Stephen’s office. For once, his absolute arrogant faith in her obedience was going to come back to bite him. She slid open the unlocked credenza and removed the three leather-bound ledgers there. With them securely tucked into the tote, she gathered the girls and went in search of John Robert.
He sat at the island in the kitchen, the plaid monogrammed bag they’d termed Ainsley’s “go-bag” since her infancy, in front of him. Ruthie smiled softly and forced a note of gaiety into her voice. “Ready?”
She secured them in their booster seats, lifted the garage door via remote and backed down the drive. The neighborhood was deserted and she sent another grateful prayer heavenward. Just to be safe, she took a circuitous route downtown and left the luxury SUV in a high-rise parking garage. Carrying the stylish tote and Ainsley’s bag, she should appear as if she were merely going shopping, children in tow, if and when anyone looked for them on the garage security cameras. With the children gathered around her, she took the back exit and walked two blocks over to a second long-term storage garage.
There, she settled the children in the aging minivan. She cranked it, thankful when it started on the first try. With her fingers wrapped around the steering wheel in a painful grip, she looked over her shoulder at the children. “Okay, first stage of the adventure. We’ll stop in Atlanta for something to eat.”
Once Charleston faded behind her, she relaxed her death grip on the wheel. She’d done it. There was no going back now. Exhilaration mixed with a banked sense of dread.
She drove straight through, making only brief stops for food and restroom breaks, at shabby locations not likely to have the latest security camera systems, taking care to pay using small bills. Ainsley was asleep by the time they reached Jonesboro. Camille dozed around Macon. By Cordele, John Robert had finally nodded off.
Ruthie drove and didn’t relax until she saw the sign for Chandler County. With the ease of familiarity, she navigated the back roads. There’d been changes since the last time she’d been here, just before John Robert’s birth seven years before, but not so many that the intimacy of home didn’t bring tears to her eyes. This time, she didn’t blink them away. They slid silently down her face.
She made a right onto a gravel turnoff. The long drive opened up to a large yard and an old frame farmhouse glowing white under the moon and a bluish mercury light. A sweet sigh of relief escaped her. She’d be safe here. Her children would be safe. The house, too, had changed—a large sundeck now gracing the area next to the back porch, new plants joining the ancient azaleas and oak hydrangeas her grandmother had lovingly tended.
Ruthie stopped the van behind a dusty white Chevrolet Z-71. A Volvo sedan sat next to it. She glanced over her shoulder. The children slept quietly, peacefully. Not wanting to disturb them, she slipped from the driver’s seat, her lower back and legs protesting the hours spent behind the wheel. Leaving the interior light on so they wouldn’t wake in the dark in an unfamiliar location, she hurried up the brick walkway, another change. When she’d been a child here, visiting her grandparents, a packed clay path had led to the back porch.
This late at night, the house was mostly dark, but squares of soft golden light spilled from the keeping-room windows. Nerves twisted in her stomach. It had been so long since they’d really talked. She didn’t know him anymore, not really. What if he wasn’t happy to see her, willing to help her? What would she do then?
She squared her shoulders. If that turned out to be the case, then she’d find a way to do this herself. Taking the first step necessitated that she not fail. The stakes were too high.
At the back door, she rang the doorbell and waited. Behind her, crickets and frogs sang in the dark night and beneath their song she could hear the distant whisper of the river. Oh, she’d missed this, missed the softness of these Georgia nights and the pure safety of this place.
Long minutes passed and she was preparing to push the bell again when a dark silhouette appeared at the door, backlit by the interior lights. The door swung inward.
“Ruthie?” Shock colored Tick’s deep, drowsy drawl.
She blinked away more of the silly tears. His black hair sleep-mussed, clad in navy pajama pants, he held the door open with one hand, his other behind his back, securing his handgun there, she was sure.
Suddenly blinking didn’t work anymore and the tears rushed free as she threw herself against his chest. “Oh Lord, Tick, I’m so glad to see you. I couldn’t go to Mama’s, didn’t want to risk that, because I’m sure he’ll look there first…”
She felt him falter once before he closed his arms around her, and sure enough, the weight of a gun in his left hand rested against her. “Ruthie, my God, what are you doing here? Are you all right?”
With an effort, she tried to pull herself together. He was married now, a father, although she hadn’t even attended his wedding, hadn’t seen the little boy named for him. He pulled back and used his free hand to brush the damp hair from her face. “Honey, talk to me. Come inside—”
“I c-can’t.” Her voice cracked and she caught his start of surprise. Oh, heaven above, he was going to think she was crazy. Maybe she was now. Maybe Stephen had driven her insane and she simply didn’t know it. A half-hysterical giggle escaped her and she clamped her lips closed, took a deep breath. She waved over her shoulder. “The children…I can’t leave them in the van.”
“Of course not.” He darted a quick look beyond her and spun to place the sleek semi-automatic in a kitchen drawer. “Come on, I’ll help you get them inside. Have you eaten?”
She nodded. “In Atlanta, then a snack in Perry.”
Thankfully, he didn’t ask any further questions but followed her to the van and gathered John Robert into an easy hold while she lifted Camille. Her son, cradled by the uncle he didn’t know, never stirred. Inside, Tick stopped in the kitchen with an uncertain expression.
“Do you think they’ll wake up?” he whispered. She shook her head and he nodded. “Let’s put them in the guest room upstairs and we can put your little one in the nursery with Lee.”
“I’m sorry I woke you,” she murmured, trailing him up the staircase, cataloging the changes in the house. Their grandmother’s outdated decorating was gone and the home now bore the distinct stamp of Tick’s strong personality, probably tempered somewhat by his wife’s tastes as well. The sister-in-law who was merely a face in a photograph, a signature on a Christmas card.
“You didn’t. I was up with Lee, had just put him back to bed when you rang.” He nudged open the first door on the right off the landing. He grinned over his shoulder as he settled John Robert beneath the covers on the double bed. “My night to get up.”
She slipped Camille beneath the sheets on the other side. Stephen had never gotten up with their children. That had always been her job, taking care of them, keeping them quiet.
“Tuck them in.” Tick brushed his knuckles over her cheek, his dark eyes concerned. “I’ll get the little one.”
She did, tucking the sheet and thin coverlet around them, kissing them, sending up silent prayers for them. She left the small lamp burning on the dresser and eased into the hall, just as Tick topped the stairs with Ainsley cradled to his chest. He tilted his head toward the room opposite and Ruthie opened the door.
It was definitely a boy’s room, with deep blue walls and wide white trim. A pine crib with white bedding stood against one wall, and a twin bed shared the space, outfitted in a quilt embroidered with an array of boats. As she flipped the quilt back for Tick to settle Ainsley down, she glimpsed a dark-haired baby snoozing in the crib, his arms laid out by his head, his lips pursed.
After she’d repeated her bedtime ritual over her daughter, Tick laid a hand on her back and ushered her toward the door. “Come on.”
Her stomach knotted all over again.
In the hallway at the bottom of the stairs, he gestured toward the kitchen. “Want something? I can make some coffee or there’s milk or juice—”
“Coffee would be great.”
The few minutes it took him to secure his gun and start the coffee brewing gave her a chance to pull herself and her thoughts together. She leaned against the kitchen island, a new addition to the keeping room area, and glanced around. The green linoleum was gone, replaced by shining hardwood. A rustic pine table graced the dining area and in the living room, a red couch and comfortable leather chairs provided a conversation area. Pine tables held baskets for magazines and books. Photos covered the walls in neat arrangements. A play yard and infant swing sat near the living area and another basket held baby toys.
She cupped her elbows and rubbed at her arms. “It looks like you. The house, I mean.”
A grin lit his face but didn’t dispel the seriousness of his chocolate gaze. “That’s what Cait says.”
At the mention of his wife, she darted a look at him. “She won’t mind, will she, us being here?”
“No, of course not.” His eyebrows winged upward. He poured coffee into two mugs and slid one across to her. “Black, right?”
She nodded and lifted the warm cup. He indicated the living room. “Come on. Let’s get comfortable and you can tell me what’s going on.”
Oh, she couldn’t wait. Clutching her mug, she took one chair and he waited for her to sit before he sank into the other. Silence dragged between them and she sipped at her coffee, the rich liquid doing little to settle her nerves. She laughed, a short, humorless sound. “God, Tick, I don’t know where to start.”
“The beginning?”
At this gentle prompting, she laughed again. “Do you have all night?”
“I have however long you need.”
She pressed her fingers against her brow. “I’ve made such a mess of things. Stephen…I thought he was a great catch, a good man, and he’s not. He’s…”
How to tell her brother she’d married a crook and a monster?
“Ruthie?” Tick covered her knee, his touch strong and warm. “Does he hurt you?”
“Not physically.” She lifted her head. “That’s not his thing. He…controls me. Where I go, who I see, what I do. And the children too. I don’t want that for them, Tick, I don’t. I want them to have what I had, what we had…” Her voice broke and she swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “Verbally, he’s vicious when he’s angry, when things don’t go the way he likes. I’ve been planning to leave for a while, but I needed a plan and an opportunity, and I wasn’t sure where to go, what to do… I’m sorry for showing up like this, dumping this all on you—”
“No, don’t be sorry.” His voice hardened. “Don’t you dare be sorry, Ruthie. Holy hell, I should be apologizing to you, for not—”
“Don’t.” She knew what he was thinking. “It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault but mine. And Stephen’s, for being the absolute monster he is. But I need your help now, Tick.”
“Anything.”
“Don’t say that yet. You don’t know what I want.” She looked at her brother, who’d been awarded the FBI award upon his graduation from Quantico. He was all about integrity and what she was going to ask would test that.
“Ruthie, just ask, honey. I’ll do whatever I can.”
She took a deep breath. “I want you to help me disappear.”

http://www.samhainpublishing.com/coming/facing-it

Day 22 and Counting . . .

2009-03-16T17:47:00.001-05:00

A nondescript blue Jeep Cherokee sat in the driveway under the just-rising sun. As she and Tick stepped onto the porch, a tall man clad in jeans and a T-shirt unfolded himself from the driver’s seat. His face set in serious lines, he moved up the walkway, his stride one of proud bearing and easy authority. Close to Tick’s side, Ruthie studied him—muscular arms and shoulders, trim waist above long legs, square jaw shadowed by a couple days’ growth of stubble, short brown hair, a tan highlighting ice-blue eyes.
That cool gaze flicked over her as he mounted the steps and took Tick’s outstretched hand in a brisk shake. “Tick.”
“Hey, Chris, thanks for coming. I really appreciate it.” His palm warm at her back, Tick drew her forward. “This is my sister, Ruthie Chason. Ruthie, Chris Parker.”

http://www.samhainpublishing.com/coming/facing-it

23 Days . . .

2009-03-15T10:00:00.001-05:00

“Chris.” Relief vibrated in Tick Calvert’s deep voice. “Glad I caught you before you left. I need a huge favor.”
Why wasn’t Chris surprised? Visions of his vacation spiraling down the tubes danced through his mind. He rested his forehead on the doorjamb. “Yeah?”
“Do this for me and I’ll make it worth your while—equal to full pay this week and I’ll schedule you another week off whenever you want.”
“Who am I covering?” He slumped into a chair and reached for a pad and pen to jot down the shift times. Hell, he should have ignored the damn phone. He would have been out of the driveway by now, headed for his version of paradise.
Tick cleared his throat. “I don’t need you to work.”
Suspicion tickled Chris’s spine. “What do you want then?”

***

Are you ready?

http://www.samhainpublishing.com/coming/facing-it

Cover Art Goodness: FACING IT

2009-03-08T13:05:00.000-05:00

Chris and Ruthie's book, due out in April.

Now Bree can mosey over here and go "Eeeeee!"

Y'all, I'm Such a Nerd

2009-02-17T07:00:00.003-05:00

I really am. I have confirmation from my students. (I'm also a nag, but that's another story . . .)

Anyway, I am a nerd. I love to read, I love to learn new stuff, I get excited about knowing things and I want to share. I'm guiltiest when it comes to stuff I'm learning with my grad degree, and my colleagues are too kind to tell me to shut up when I get going at the lunch table about some new strategy I'm learning. But I can hear the mental, "Oh, Lord, here she goes again."

So I'm showing my seniors a series of documentaries on the history of Britain. Some of it is really interesting (to me, at least -- to them, I'm not so sure). I'd mentioned to them this morning that we were skipping the section on conquests, as when the DH and I were previewing the films, he turned to me and said, "You can't show them this. They'd be out, fifteen minutes, tops."

One of them looked at me, horrified. "You made your husband watch this?!"

Well, yeah. He's a history nerd. He's in the living room now, tuned into the History Channel.

So yeah, I'm a nerd. I'm all excited about going to the charter school conference next week because I know I'll be learning new stuff and that means I'll have more stuff to torture people with at the lunch table.

But y'all will tell me if I become an obnoxious nerd, right?

I'm Here!

2009-02-17T07:00:00.002-05:00

Long story, but our DSL has been down forever. It's finally fixed, although I can't say the same for the landline. I'm seriously thinking of just not having a landline, as we don't use it anyway.

Anyway, this is a quick drive-by, as I need to get dressed for school. I have cover art for Chris and pics of the house to show you, though.

Back soon. Missed y'all!

Fall Into Me, Available Today!

2009-01-06T06:45:00.001-05:00

She’s finally falling for the right man…at the worst possible time.

Fall Into Me
A part of the Hearts of the South series.

After two back-to-back romantic disappointments, bar owner Angel Henderson isn’t looking for love. In the past month, she’s been passed over twice by men she’d pinned her hopes on, both times in favor of a younger woman. She’s ready to swear off men for life. The only problem? A certain younger man determined to prove he can be her right man.

Sheriff’s deputy Troy Lee Farr is tired of being the department screw-up. The harder he tries to prove himself, the worse it gets. The only thing that’s gone right recently is getting a second chance with Angel. Except she’d rather jam on the brakes than rush into a new relationship. Now he has to work hard to prove his worth as a romantic prospect.

Troy Lee is a patient man, and it isn’t long before Angel is falling into him as hard as he’s fallen for her. Just as Angel begins to think of him as more than a fun date, her past—and Troy Lee’s dangerous reality—threatens the tentative happiness they’ve found in one another.
Reminding them both that security is tenuous…and unconditional love is the biggest challenge of all.

Warning: Cops who talk like cops, explicit older woman-younger man lovin’, and two-boxes-of-tissues emotion.

***

Outside, the sultry promise of the sunny day had dipped into a damp chill and she was glad to have his warm presence at her back, blocking the slight breeze, while she locked the door.
Guitar case in hand, he strolled across the parking lot at her side to where his Jeep waited next to her Mustang. He tossed the case into the passenger seat and she eyed the Wrangler’s bikini top. “You’re going to freeze.”
He cast a quick glance at it. “Nah. It’ll be nice to cool off after being under the lights.”
She fiddled with her keys, turning them between her fingers. “Well, good night then. Thank you for walking me out.”
“You’re welcome.” His gaze lingered on her face. With a lazy movement, he rested a hand on the roof of her car, bringing his long body into her personal space and filling her with breathless intensity.
She should speak, should laugh, should do something. Instead, all she could do was stare into those lash-fringed baby blues and imagine all the wicked possibilities suddenly trembling between them.
He lifted his other hand and sifted the fingers through her hair at her temple, rubbing a couple of strands together. One corner of his mouth hitched up. “About that kissing thing.”
Oh, this was so not like her…hadn’t she always been a take-charge kind of girl? And here she was, her back pressed against the driver’s side door, keys clenched in one hand, watching those beautiful eyes draw closer as he took the initiative and leaned in.
She closed her eyes before his mouth touched hers. Oh please, don’t let it be any good. It would be so much easier to walk, to let him go if—
Warm lips, a hint of lime and Corona. Pliable flesh, a bit of pressure, a suggestion of persuasive seduction, her bottom lip sucked lightly between his. Breathless, giddy desire plunging through her, swirling in an achy spin lower in her belly, pulsing to life between her thighs.
He lifted his mouth, caressed the corner of hers, then sought her lips once more. She rested her hands against his chest, over his thudding heart, and offered her mouth up to him, allowing his tongue to tease her lips apart.
Oh, this was good, playful strokes, a light tangle of tongues and lips. He moved closer, hard thighs brushing but not pressing to her own, both hands braced now on the car roof, his body holding her prisoner and providing shelter all at the same time.

More info: http://www.samhainpublishing.com/authors/linda-winfree

Fall Into Me!

2009-01-05T06:44:00.002-05:00

Releases TOMORROW!

http://www.samhainpublishing.com/coming/fall-into-me

Um...

2009-01-03T12:01:00.001-05:00

I'm under deadline on revisions. Today. I'm still polishing transitions and layering. I've been working, I swear -- I even have photos of me at the computer at five 'til midnight on New Year's Eve (just too swamped to upload them here right now...later, I promise).

Today is Monster #1's b-day. He's FOURTEEN. How can my baby be fourteen?!

Trying to finish revisions before the tree guy comes. Last time, I had to go rescue him three times because the motor kept cutting out on his truck and he couldn't get down from up in the air. Hopefully today, he won't need rescuing.

Tree-guy-not-damsel-in-distress. Now there's a new trope for you.

Hope you're having a good day!

Where to Find Me Today

2009-01-02T14:27:00.001-05:00

1) At my computer, revising madly.

2) In the laundry room, washing mounds of clothes

3) At Greta's blog (go comment -- you could win a book): http://idonotwanttowaitiwantthebooknow.wordpress.com/

4) At the Samhain blog: http://www.samhainpublishing.com/blog

Happy birthday to my brother Lionel!

The Best Review Line EVER

2009-01-01T11:23:00.000-05:00

Fall Into Me is a Recommended Read over at Fallen Angel Reviews. Here is my favorite line from the review:

"To my delight Troy Lee proves to be a whole lot more than sweet. This guy could talk the panties off a nun without her noticing and poor Angel had no hope of escaping his seduction..."

I love it. Just love it.

You can read the entire review here: http://www.fallenangelreviews.com/2008/December/RachelC-FallIntoMe.htm

Thanks to Rachel for making my New Year with a lovely review. Fall Into Me releases in ebook next Tuesday, January 6. You can find an excerpt HERE.

Elisabeth's Debut!

2008-12-30T10:37:00.003-05:00

The lovely and talented Elisabeth Naughton has her debut release today.

Here's the cover and blurb for Stolen Fury:

Oh, is he handsome. And charming. And sexy as all get out. Dr. Lisa Maxwell isn’t the type to go home with a guy she barely knows. But, hey, this is Italy and the red-blooded Rafe Sullivan seems much more enticing than cataloging a bunch of dusty artifacts.

After being fully seduced, Lisa wakes to an empty bed and, worse yet, an empty safe. She’s staked her career as an archaeologist on collecting the three Furies, a priceless set of ancient Greek reliefs. Now the one she had is gone. But Lisa won’t just get mad. She’ll get even.

She tracks Rafe to Florida, and finds the sparks between them blaze hotter than the Miami sun. He may still have her relic, but he’ll never find all three without her. And they’re not the only ones on the hunt. To beat the other treasure seekers, they’ll have to partner up—because suddenly Lisa and Rafe are in a race just to stay alive.

Pop over to Elisabeth's blog, find out where she's blogging today and congratulate her!

Samhain Best of 2008 Survey

2008-12-19T20:08:00.000-05:00

Family Photos -- The parental units. You will notice I look very much like my daddy. He looks like my Grandma W., I think.

According to editor Angela James, "At the request of a reader, Samhain has agreed to post the top ten bestseller list at the end of the year (probably the first couple weeks of January). In an effort to make it a fun promotion, we’d like to do a couple of other reader-driven “best of” lists. This is the readers’ chance to pick their favorites and get them on a top ten list."

Have a favorite Samhain title or cover? Go here: http://www.surveymonkey.com/s.aspx?sm=cx0Pt6VHI_2fJ4m5lSThk8Qg_3d_3d and fill out the quick, easy-peasy form.

Augh!

2008-12-16T23:09:00.001-05:00

Family Portraits -- Me and the sibling units. I'm second from the left.

One word: revisions. They're killing me. The bad part? I haven't actually started them yet. I have my editor's notes and I'm thinking through what I have to do. I'm in that weird place where I know what needs to be added, but finding the place to put the added material without messing up the flow or breaking the tension is the hard part.

It's all Ash's fault anyway. He has to be all mature and settled and not-having-a-deep-conflict.

I will figure this out. I will.

Yet Another "Go Check It Out . . ."

2008-12-14T22:22:00.002-05:00

And trust me -- when this book comes out, you want a copy!

Go Check Out . . .

2008-12-09T07:01:00.000-05:00

Jambrea's debut!

Forever Guy
by Jambrea Jo Jones

Samantha has a crush on Jack. Now that he’s back in town, she needs to convince him he’s her forever guy.

Literally running into Jack yesterday at the bank had to be a sign of the fates shining on her. Her dreams of him still visited her on lonely nights; the fluttering started in her chest, and her heart jumped as his eyes flashed in recognition, a slow grin creeping across his face. To see and speak to him after so long brought back the memories of the last time he walked away from her. Jack had left her no air to breathe and had broken her heart, not once looking back to see the girl she had been crying for him to come back.
Picking up the pieces took time, but to his credit, she never told him how she felt before he joined the military. She needed to grow up, and as Jack left for the Marine Corps, she felt it too soon for her to express her feelings for him. She needed to make sure her emotions weren’t mere puppy love. Sam had no intention of making the same mistake twice. This time, she wouldn’t let him leave because they belonged together in the forever kind of way.
Sam shook off the memories and raced to get ready for her evening. Tonight, her dreams would come true.

Part of the One Touch One, Glance Anthology on sale December 9, 2208
http://www.freyasbower.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=19&products_id=149

Five Stars: FALL INTO ME

2008-12-07T18:11:00.001-05:00

“Fall Into Me is a feast for the senses…drama, heartache, love, romance, passion and so much more…a five star masterpiece.” – Kimberly Spinney, ecataromance

http://sensual.ecataromance.com/index.php?p=1200

She’s finally falling for the right man…at the worst possible time.

Fall Into Me -- coming January 6
A part of the Hearts of the South series.

After two back-to-back romantic disappointments, bar owner Angel Henderson isn’t looking for love. In the past month, she’s been passed over twice by men she’d pinned her hopes on, both times in favor of a younger woman. She’s ready to swear off men for life. The only problem? A certain younger man determined to prove he can be her right man.
Sheriff’s deputy Troy Lee Farr is tired of being the department screw-up. The harder he tries to prove himself, the worse it gets. The only thing that’s gone right recently is getting a second chance with Angel. Except she’d rather jam on the brakes than rush into a new relationship. Now he has to work hard to prove his worth as a romantic prospect.
Troy Lee is a patient man, and it isn’t long before Angel is falling into him as hard as he’s fallen for her. Just as Angel begins to think of him as more than a fun date, her past—and Troy’s dangerous reality—threatens the tentative happiness they’ve found in one another.
Reminding them both that security is tenuous…and unconditional love is the biggest challenge of all.

Warning: Cops who talk like cops, explicit older woman-younger man lovin’, and two-boxes-of-tissues emotion.

For an excerpt, visit http://www.samhainpublishing.com/coming/fall-into-me

I'm Alive, I Promise!

2008-12-02T06:54:00.002-05:00

Life (and house renovations and research papers and teaching and editing . . .) have hijacked me lately.

I won't leave you this lonely this long again (like you missed me. Heh.).

Hey, it's only a little more than a month until Fall Into Me releases. Contest details and maybe some free read info to come!

A New Release Date

2008-11-17T22:02:00.000-05:00

For Fall Into Me. Now you'll be able to get your Troy Lee-fix three weeks earlier, on January 6 instead of January 27.

Details to come on pre-release contests, fun stuff, and a weekly free read.

The Central Song: Chris & Ruthie

2008-11-16T22:17:00.002-05:00

Working on edits for Facing It and I end up looping the soundtrack while I work.

This is the central song for Chris & Ruthie:

The lyrics are so perfect for their relationship (snipping):

You could've bowed out gracefully
But you didn't
You knew enough to know
To leave well enough alone
But you wouldn't
I drive myself crazy
Tryin' to stay out of my own way
The messes that I make
But my secrets are so safe
The only one who gets me
Yeah, you get me
It's amazing to me

Icome around all broken down and
Crowded out
And you're comfort
Sometimes the place I go
Is so deep and dark and desperate

Sometimes I swear, I don't know if
I'm comin' or goin'
But you always say something
Without even knowin'
That I'm hangin' on to your words
With all of my might and it's alright
Yeah, I'm all right for one more night

Every day you save my life

Sunday Not-Check-In

2008-11-16T17:16:00.002-05:00

I have no new words. I have many, many pages of Chris's book edited, but many, many more to go, too.

I also have nine more essays to grade tonight and there are still eight senior research papers sitting untouched here.

And . . . I think my habitual neglect of my oral health in favor of my children's (read: they go to the dentist on a regular basis; I don't because even with insurance I can only afford so much $$$ to go into Dr. W's pocket) is about to bite me (no pun intended). Why can't this stuff happen at a convenient time?!

The Hard Stuff

2008-11-15T21:21:00.004-05:00

Remember Mork and Mindy, how when they finally had a child, he was in his fifties or so? I think the idea was he would actually get younger as he got older.

Let me explain why it doesn't really work that way: because as difficult as taking care of a baby or toddler can be, as sleep-deprived or patience-tested you get, it's nothing to the challenges involved in the tween and teen years.

Monster #1 has been on a teen tear this week, which I'm not going to share here. But I will tell you about Monster #2's heartbreak.

Both Monsters are involved in 4-H, and this year was #2's first foray into DPA (District Project Achievement). At the county level, he won first place in his area, which meant he got to present his project and compete at the district level, which was today. He's worked incredibly hard to prepare and was very excited about competing. His visual aids were good, his speech was good, he was prepared, his confidence was up. He did well in competition.

His competitors did well also. I told the DH as we were leaving for lunch, before the awards ceremony, that I wasn't sure if he'd place. We'd talked to him about it over the past few days, and I thought we were good.

Well . . .

He didn't place, and we weren't good. The kids were seated on the gym floor and the adults were in the stands. Once it hit him that he didn't place, my baby, my heart, was sitting with his head bowed and even from a distance, I could tell he was crying quietly.

In my writing career, I've been rejected more times than I really want to count (it's over a hundred, okay?). I've had harsh rejections and harsher reviews. In my teaching career, I've had parents bash me, students make some really harsh comments about my teaching while I was teaching, and suffered through one really wickedly bad job interview. I can handle getting knocked down. I simply get back up.

Watching my Monster struggle with getting knocked down when he'd worked hard, tried his best and (in his head) failed? I'd take a hundred more rejections to spare him that. At the same time, while I was watching him (and tearing up as well because I couldn't do anything to comfort him), I knew what I was seeing was one of those darned hated-yet-valuable life lessons: sometimes we try our best and don't make the cut. Then we have a choice: keep trying or give up. Monster #2's already making plans for next year, so he just might be his mama's son. I realize, too, that this is the first of several knock-downs I'll have to watch him experience as he grows older. I'm glad to see he can pick himself up and dust himself off and get back in the game*.

One bright spot: After I wiped my own eyes, I looked down to find Monster #1, who was serving his first day as a teen leader with our county 4-H group, kneeling beside his brother, arm around his shoulder and offering support and comfort. So even the sometimes-so-moody-I-want-to-kill-him Monster has potential.

I think I'll keep them, even if we are embarking on some of the really hard stuff.

A Tidbit

2008-11-13T20:41:00.000-05:00

The diner wasn’t difficult to find and wasn’t far from the department, either. Within walking distance. Frowning, Madeline parked in the alley beside the historic brick building. Why hadn’t Calvert sent her on foot?
She found the answer inside as the bubbly fresh-out-of-high-school cashier loaded take-out plate after take-out plate in two large cardboard boxes. An unwilling spurt of humor tugged at Madeline’s lips. At least Calvert hadn’t been a big enough ass to send her after this on foot.
Or maybe it simply hadn’t occurred to him.
She juggled one of the awkward boxes into her arms and glared at the second. “I’ll be back for that one.”
Trying to keep her hands from slipping off, she shoved the door open with one hip and stepped onto the sidewalk. The damn carton was heavier than it looked, and it was further to the car than she’d like. Plus, she’d locked the unit. Her keys were in her pocket; she’d have to set the box down to dig them out.
“Hey, let me help you with that.” A smooth drawl filled her ears seconds before strong hands lifted the box easily from her precarious hold.
“Thanks.” She rubbed her tingling palms down her hips before tugging the keys from her pocket. She looked up at her rescuer. He was tall, his body tight with the muscles that came from good old-fashioned hard work, the box balanced easily on one hip. Sunlight glinted off sandy-blond hair, lightened here and there by long hours outside. A denim jacket covered an untucked T-shirt worn over faded blue jeans, a hole worn in one pocket, and scuffed work boots.
Standard farmer attire.
Too bad she’d sworn off farmboys long ago. This one was cute, with a great smile and the prettiest pale green eyes she’d ever seen, glowing in a tanned face, thin lines spreading out beneath long lashes.
He was checking her out, too, his sea-colored gaze roaming from her hair, to her face, over her body and back up to her eyes. He grinned, white teeth flashing against his golden skin. “You’re new here.”
New? Madeline swallowed a laugh. If he only knew. She wasn’t going to explain her convoluted past to a man she’d probably never see again, though. She pointed toward the police car. “I’m parked over here.”
He settled the box on the stainless steel back seat and straightened. “Is that all?”
She wavered for a half second. “Actually, there’s one more, if you don’t mind…”
“I don’t.” The great smile lit his face again. “Or I wouldn’t have asked.” He tucked his hands in his pockets as they walked back to the diner. “Good thing I decided to call in a lunch order today, huh?”
She reached for the door and held it. “What do you mean?”
“Might have missed meeting you.”
A laugh bubbled in her throat, and she smothered it. The last thing she wanted was a man in her life, and if she was in the market for one, it would be the kind she’d always dated: smooth, polished, interested in sex and no strings.
Not the farmer-type she’d grown up with.
Not even one with a killer body and drop-dead eyes.
He hefted the second box with the same ease and economy of movement. Outside at the car, he tilted his chin toward it. “So you’re with the sheriff’s department.”
“Temporarily.”
He tucked his thumbs in his back pockets, the line of his body relaxed. “Maybe I’ll see you around then.”
Not likely, but she smiled anyway. “Maybe.”
He nodded. “You have a good day, now.”Slipping behind the wheel, she watched him amble toward the diner. My, my, he had a nice ass, and the old jeans highlighted it to perfection. Shaking off the purely feminine musings, she shifted into gear and drove back to the station. Any pleasant feelings engendered by the interlude with the good-looking farmer sputtered out as soon as she returned to the sheriff’s department.

Sshh!

2008-11-13T19:48:00.000-05:00

I have a secret.

Sigh

2008-11-12T22:29:00.002-05:00

This is why I feel like I'm treading water in the classroom many days lately. The following is a quote from a New York Magazine article {emphasis is mine}:

"But the suggestion that gets the biggest laugh in the office is from Stier’s 12-year-old son, who says, 'So maybe you have to turn all the books into movies so nobody has to waste their time.'"

Read some Leu on the new principles of literacy, couple it with a view of reading like the above, and you'd see why I worry.

Why Everyone I Know . . .

2008-11-12T19:33:00.003-05:00

. . . and buy gifts for is getting a book for Christmas:

http://editorialass.blogspot.com/2008/11/crash-flow-or-what-went-wrong-in.html

I will also buy them from Leigh at The Bookstore. Will it cost a little more? Sure. But I like to keep my dollars local if I can.

And Now . . .

2008-11-10T22:46:00.001-05:00

You will notice yet another poll, one dealing with a holiday read in the works.

Just Another Manic Monday

2008-11-10T21:55:00.000-05:00

My siblings and me with my parents at my mom's 65th birthday party. I love how the Christmas lights on the tree make my brother look like he has devil horns. My sisters will, of course, get the wonderfulness of that image, considering he has Daddy's bald head.

I'm caught up on grading! Whoo! Well, at least until I get 35+ portfolio proof essays from the juniors tomorrow, plus freshman rough drafts of the same assignment. And on Wednesday? Fifteen senior project research papers, each in the ten-page range. Big junior essays on the American Dream in Modern and Post-Modern American Literature due Friday. Midterm is a week from tomorrow, so I have to stay on top of this.

Did I mention my edits on Facing It are due in ten days?

On a lighter note, I've posted a poll. My 20th high school reunion is on the 28th and I'm trying to decide if I want to go or not. I thought I'd give you the option to weigh in on my decision.

Oh, shoot! I just remembered after our "how we should be evaluated" chat today, I promised the juniors a rubric tomorrow. Have I typed said rubric? Um, no. Well, guess what I'm off to do . . .?

Sunday Check-In

2008-11-09T21:40:00.002-05:00

Wow, I didn't mean to go a whole week without posting. It's been a crazy week. I keep thinking things will slow down, but somehow they don't. The good news is that it's only two weeks or so until Thanksgiving break. I need that (and we usually get paid early -- I really need that).

I've not made major progress this week, unless you count the twelve pages I wrote for grad school, but I have my first round of edits on Facing It to work on now (I'm 11 pages into 266) plus Fall Into Me is through final line edits. Whoo!

Normally, I don't share a lot about my works in progress, for a variety of reasons. However, at Esther's request, I had planned to talk some about each project this week, but never got around to it. So I'll share some tidbits with the word count meters tonight, okay?

Unseen

Not much progress this week on the book involving a St. Augustine homicide detective and a team of paranormal investigators, including a psychic kindergarten teacher whose life is turned upside down by the dark force providing her otherworldly information. (Hey, Carol told me to try writing something different to jumpstart my brain!)

1,001 / 90,000
(1.1%)

Gone

Um, not as much progress as I'd have liked. This is a Chandler County (i.e., Hearts of the South) book, but the protagonist is an outsider who's recently joined the sheriff's department. The former GBI agent delves into a missing-persons case while his marriage deteriorates around him.

2,242 / 90,000
(2.5%)

The Marriage Arrangment (although I'm thinking of retitling it Deeper Into You or With Each Breath)

This is Vince's book (Do I hear Bree going Eeeee?), the story of the business-arrangement-like marraige he makes with an old friend, only to find himself falling into love and out of control.

538 / 60,000
(0.9%)

Normally, I don't post WIP excerpts, but here's a brief, rough-draft, very unedited taste of Vince and his heroine:

“Marry me.”
Vince Falconetti set his orange juice aside, slanted the laptop away and granted Markie Ransome his undivided attention. “Pardon?”
Sunlight glinting off her blonde curls, she leaned back in the chair cater-corner to his and peeled the wrapper away from her poppy seed muffin. A touch of whimsy colored her smile. “You should marry me.”
He stretched out his legs, adopting a lounging posture, and let his gaze trail over her. He liked having her at his breakfast table, liked her easy friendship and teasing sense of humor. Relaxing, waiting for the punch line, he rested his elbow on the arm of his chair and rubbed his forefinger over his mouth. “And why is that?”
“Because we’re perfect for one another.” She broke off a morsel of muffin and popped it in her mouth. “And face it, Vince, you’re not getting any younger.”
“Thanks a lot.” He laughed and reached for his juice. His gaze strayed to the laptop screen. Even with the dive the market had taken the previous day, Falcon Security was up four points and—
“I’m serious.”
He stared, points and juice and everything else mundane forgotten. “You think we should get married.”
“I do. No pun intended.” She gazed at him, her pure blue eyes serene and steady.
Frowning, he allowed several moments to pass. He opened his mouth, closed it again, shook his head. “Explain.”
She didn’t react to his curt command with flustered dismay, not that he’d expected her to. With a lithe stretch, she set her muffin atop her plate and straightened. She eyed him with an earnest expression. “Your grandfather wants to see you settled. You said yourself, after Lee was born, you wouldn’t mind having a child. I already serve your hostess role. You need a wife who doesn’t need your money, and I don’t. I need a husband who won’t be threatened by my dedication to my business, and you won’t. We’re friends, and we enjoy each other’s company. Why shouldn’t we get married?”
He watched her, struck more by what she’d left unsaid than the reasons she’d trotted out. As arguments went, it wasn’t bad. Wonder if she’d worked out that whole “having a child” bit and what that actually entailed? An image flashed in his mind, her tall, slender body beneath his, fingers pressing into his back, the two of them joined in the most intimate of embraces. He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not interested in artificial insemination.”
Her shapely brows lifted, a slightly mocking light entering her eyes. “Neither am I.”
He tilted his head. “So you’re proposing a marriage in all aspects of the word?”
“Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“I won’t lose myself in you.” Her voice hardened for a moment, then the chilly stoniness of the words slipped away under another winsome smile. “I was thinking friends, with marital benefits and a wedding ring. I want a child, Vince, but I’m not interested in settling for just any man. I want someone who values what I do, but won’t expect me to subjugate my life to his, to become his arm candy when he feels like it.”Like her mother. The unspoken words trembled between them, but he heard them nonetheless.
**

I will make every attempt to be around more this week. Maybe things will settle down a little around here! (Although, somehow, I doubt it.)

Sunday Check-In

2008-11-02T22:53:00.002-05:00

H-ey! I'm no longer at zero on all three of my WIPs!

Here's Gone:

1,600 / 90,000
(1.8%)

And Unseen:

1,001 / 90,000
(1.1%)

Okay, so 1% or so on each book isn't fabulous, but it's better than zero. The goal is 500 words per day per book (or 1K total per day). We'll see where I am next week . . .

Jekyll Island, Day 2

2008-10-30T20:13:00.000-05:00

Scenes from Jekyll Island -- Freakishly huge waves rolling ashore. (I have other photos, but they have both my Monster #2 and other people's monsters in them -- I don't post the Monsters' pics on the Internet.)

One thing about being on this trip -- you were busy from the time you got up until the time your head hit the pillow. That's actually really good: it's hard for kids to get into trouble if they're occupied (although some still managed).

We began day 2 with dock study, where the kids learned about barnacles and different types of motion sea animals use. Then, we went to the marina so they could use the nets off the dock and try to catch/identify small sea creatures.

After fish dissection (um, ick, although I've done it before) and lunch, we went out for marsh study. Would you believe that there are one million hermit crabs per acre in the marshes around Jekyll Island? They actually eat the detritus (dark, dark mud), which is 95% decaying plant material. The kids got to taste sea pickles and we walked through the different levels of the marsh. Our guide had them play Migratory Bird Hopscotch, which drove home the impact we have when we develop marshlands.

On the way back from the marsh, we had the infamous van incident with the windshield.

Afternoon classes included beach study (it was windy and therefore cold!). I love the sand and ocean, so I was happy, even if I was freezing. We learned a lot about how sand builds up on the island and the importance of grasses in keeping protective dunes intact.

We played ocean bingo after supper and then I thought we were going to the beach for a night walk. Oh, no. We went in the forest! I was kinda/sorta okay with that, even though I don't have the best night vision. The kids played bat and moth to show how bats use sound to locate their food and we cracked wintergreen LifeSavers to watch them spark. I was okay with the walking without a flashlight, right up until I figured out that the path I could suddenly see in the moonlight was rectangular and very, very narrow.

Not to mention a bridge over water. Did I mention it was a footbride with no rails?

We crossed two of those things in the dark! I was terrified someone's kid (namely mine) was going to end up in the water in the dark. I got ragged unmercifully by the chaperones for being a worrier.

Overall, the night walk was interesting -- one of those things that's better once it's over.

I'm off to work on Chris's book. Will be back tomorrow with the abbreviated day three . . .

HOLD ON TO ME Now in Print!

2008-10-28T05:42:00.002-05:00

Book Signing Event – Tuesday, October 28, 2008, 5:00 PM to 7:00 PM
The Bookstore, 29 W. Broad Street, Camilla, Georgia – (229)336-3852

Please join us for an evening of fun and festivities as Linda Winfree, bestselling author of Southern romantic suspense, mingles with readers and celebrates the release of her latest novel, Hold On to Me.

Linda’s previous releases will be available as well; complimentary gift-wrapping provided. Come meet the author and do a little early Christmas shopping!

**

“…a thrilling journey through danger and suspense.” – Sheryl, Sensual Ecataromance

She keeps a secret buried in the past. He wants the truth—now. But an unknown killer could destroy their future.

Hold On to Me by Linda Winfree
Book Three in the Hearts of the South series.

For FBI profiler Caitlin Falconetti, immersing herself in her job is the only way to quell the memories of a vicious, near-fatal attack and what it cost her, including the only man she ever loved. Better to let him think she simply rejected him, rather than reveal a painful secret that she's certain would have destroyed his feelings for her.

Investigator Lamar “Tick” Calvert is determined to clean out the corruption-riddled sheriff’s department in his hometown. While he understands Caitlin's drive to excel at her job, that doesn’t mean he's happy about the prospect of working with his former lover, the one woman he tried and failed to hold onto.

A rash of unsolved murders, including a politician's daughter, brings them together to find the murderer before another woman dies. Daily contact re-ignites the lingering attraction between them, but Caitlin won't risk opening herself and revealing her secret. She plans to complete the killer's profile, make an arrest and get out of town for good.

Tick plans to solve this case, too, but now that Caitlin's back in his life, he also plans to finally dig up the truth about why she left him.

But there's an added complication—the killer isn't done, and Caitlin could be the next target.

Praise for Hold On to Me

“…a welcome addition to Ms. Winfree's HEARTS OF THE SOUTH series...as engaging and gritty as its predecessors and has a depth that is undeniable…Tick' s ability to forgive and his innate sexiness are hard to resist and when Caitlin finally surrenders the sex is explosive and caring in one brilliantly written love story.” – Jenn, Romance Junkies

“Tick is everything you’d want in a wounded hero…Spectacular, handsome, just the right amount of Alpha male…Caitlin is a pro and she’s out to prove it, but she can’t quite shut the door firmly and permanently on Tick…If you like romantic suspense with as much romance as suspense…it’s more than well worth your time and money.” – Shara, My Book Cravings

Unable to Attend? Find More Info At These Links:

Linda’s Author Page at Samhain Publishing: http://samhainpublishing.com/authors/linda-winfree

Hold On to Me at Amazon

Hold On to Me at Barnes & Noble

Interview with Guest Author Jeff Rivera

2008-10-27T05:41:00.004-05:00

"Once homeless and living in his car, award-winning novelist Jeff Rivera writes passionate stories of those often forgotten and neglected by society. He believes even in the eyes of a gang member, even beneath the soiled clothes of a bag lady or behind the tears of a lonely kid in the back of the class, there lies a common thread that links us all, the universal human story. He has made it his personal mission to help change the way the world thinks in a positive way through his stories. Mr. Rivera currently lives in Miami, Florida. Adopted by his Filipino stepfather when he was seven years old, his ethnic background is Black American and Native American." -- www.JeffRivera.com

Forever My Lady is a lot like an Officer and a Gentleman in some ways. Was that on purpose?
I didn't set out to make it like An Officer and a Gentleman but I can see the similarities. I think if you're a big fan of that story you'll like Forever My Lady. It does have a similar story in terms of a rough and tough guy who learns to become a better man through boot camp for the love of his life.

How long have you been writing?
I've been writing since I was 6 years old. But I had never written a novel before I wrote Forever My Lady. I did though think it would be really cool when I was little to have a book one day to have my book in the library. Now it's happening and for a someone who grow up a poor black kid in Hillsboro, Oregon I just want to pinch myself sometimes.

You used some interesting techniques to move the plot forward with a lot of twists. Why?
I wrote the type of story I'd like to read. I can't stand books where you know exactly what's going to happen. I fought against then when writing Forever My Lady.

How did you make sure each of the letters sounded so different as if they came from two different characters?
I actually wrote the letters first, then I wrote the rest of the novels. So for example I wrote Dio's letters first -- all of them from beginning to the end then I wrote Jennifer's responses to the letters and adapted where necessary.

Forever My Lady can be found where?
Bookstores everywhere (don't forget to support your indie bookstores too), Amazon.com or check out my website: www.JeffRivera.com

***
Thanks, Jeff, for stopping by to talk with us about Forever My Lady! Readers, don't forget if you comment on this post, you have a chance to win a copy of Forever My Lady.

Coming Tomorrow -- Interview with Jeff Rivera

2008-10-26T19:07:00.003-05:00

Check back tomorrow for an intriguing interview with guest author Jeff Rivera, who'll share with us about his exciting new release, Forever My Lady.

Come by Monday and read more about Jeff and his latest release. Comment and you may win a copy!

Jekyll Island, Day 1

2008-10-26T12:31:00.000-05:00

Scenes from Jekyll Island -- the beach on a very windy, very chilly day with winds from the northeast. The swells and waves were huge, which is very unusual for this area. Normally, the Atlantic here is lake-smooth.

We arrived Wednesday around 12:30. Ate lunch in the cafeteria -- the food was pretty good and it was nice not to have to cook for the days we were there.

After lunch, Milton took us to the slough. We learned about dunes and swales and sloughs and dissolved oxygen. The first slough we visited was in a park, and Monster #2 saw deer tracks (hunting is outlawed on the island and there are tons of deer). We trekked through the woods to slough number two. Here, the chaperones' job was to watch the alligators, which wasn't reassuring since one alligator wasn't visible. Monster #2 proceeds to slip and almost fall face first into the slimy duckweed-covered part of the slough.

Later, the kids painted T-shirts with rubbery, scale fish models. We created canvases for each homeroom. I so want to do that, for the living room maybe?

As soon as we arrived at the 4-H center, my cell phone stopped working. Everybody but me had cell coverage. That meant no email, no texting, no calls. Talk about being forced not to worry, meddle, etc. On some levels, that was really nice because it forced me to focus solely on what was going on around me, not four hours away.

Coming up next -- day two, with the dock study, fish dissection, marsh trip, ocean study, and the night walk.

We're Back!

2008-10-24T16:56:00.003-05:00

Scenes from Jekyll Island -- the bridge between the causeway and the island. (FYI -- I didn't take this photo. I lifted it from Flicker).

I did, however, take these two photos:

Inside the van.

Outside the van.

I think this had to be our most exciting yet most frightening experience on the entire trip. We'd visited the marsh area around the causeway (this was fascinating -- more to come in the next few days) and were headed back to the 4-H center. As we topped the bridge (see first photo), I heard this large "bang" and shattering glass. I turned from the child I was talking to (there were nine children, two chaperones, our guide and me on the van) to see the shattered windshield. At first, I thought something had flown off the roadway and hit the windshield (like a "gator" from a blownout tire). Then I realized our guide couldn't see -- something was blocking the windshield.

Remember, we're atop the bridge. I spun to the children, who are all frightened and big-eyed at this time and said, "Y'all, put your heads down." I was afraid the shattered safety glass would hit someone's eye (we've already had one eye injury in the Winfree household -- didn't want to go through that again!).

Want to know the difference between fifth graders and high schoolers? The fifth graders immediately put their heads down and stayed there. The high schoolers would still be asking, "Why do we have to put our heads down? We don't want to...whine, whine, whine, ad nauseum."

Our intrepid guide (I was already impressed with her skills at the marsh; this closed the deal for me) calmly rolls down the window, sticks her head out, and drives us to safety off the bridge. Kudos to Elise!

Once stopped, we get the kids out and inspect the van. The hood latch had come undone (it was corroded and the winds were incredible that day) and the hood had flown up, slamming into the windshield and shattering it. Luckily, other than a few scratches on Elise and Chad, one of our chaperones, no one was hurt.

I, for one, am glad to be home. I'll share more pics and stories over the next few days.

What have y'all been up to in my absence?

Look!

2008-10-21T16:27:00.001-05:00

I'm desperately trying to get packed for Monster #2's three-day field trip. Yes, I'm going. Don't know what I was thinking . . .

Today is the parental units' 46th wedding anniversary.

And . . .

Red Rock Pass #1

Keith Winston is tired of fighting. The war between werewolves and wizards rages on in Europe, but he's come home to Red Rock, Montana in hopes of finding a bit of peace. Instead he finds more strife as he struggles against the pack's dictates that he resume his place as the alpha's right hand man.

When he rescues a new wolf on the run, he knows his instant attraction to her could cause trouble. What he doesn't expect is to find himself embroiled in another battle that goes against all his instincts--and his heart.

Abigail Adler learned about the existence of werewolves only when she became one. With her life threatened by a corrupt alpha, she flees to the only sanctuary she knows: Red Rock. While she's grateful for the pack's protection, she chafes under its unbreakable rules of conduct--except when it comes to submitting to the passion Keith stirs in her.

Then her tormentor kidnaps her sister in an attempt to lure her out of hiding. To save her, Abby and Keith must be willing to do the very thing that could get them all killed--break all of the rules.

Read an Excerpt Online for Free

Cover Art Goodness: FALL INTO ME

2008-10-18T10:41:00.001-05:00

She’s finally falling for the right man…at the worst possible time.

After two back-to-back romantic disappointments, bar owner Angel Henderson isn’t looking for love. In the past month, she’s been passed over twice by men she’d pinned her hopes on, both times in favor of a younger woman. She’s ready to swear off men for life. The only problem? A certain younger man determined to prove he can be her right man.

Sheriff’s deputy Troy Lee Farr is tired of being the department screw-up. The harder he tries to prove himself, the worse it gets. The only thing that’s gone right recently is getting a second chance with Angel. Except she’d rather jam on the brakes than rush into a new relationship. Now he has to work hard to prove his worth as a romantic prospect.

Troy Lee is a patient man, and it isn’t long before Angel is falling into him as hard as he’s fallen for her. Just as Angel begins to think of him as more than a fun date, her past—and Troy’s dangerous reality—threatens the tentative happiness they’ve found in one another.

Reminding them both that security is tenuous…and unconditional love is the biggest challenge of all.

Warning: Cops who talk like cops, explicit older woman-younger man lovin’, and two-boxes-of-tissues emotion.

Releasing January 27, 2009 from Samhain Publishing.

***

Note to Rhiann -- I'm pretty sure I mailed it when I sent out the last batch. Will dig through postal reciepts. May just send another copy, just in case. If both turn up then, you can give one away. ;-)

So I Came Home From Work Today . . .

2008-10-07T15:57:00.002-05:00

And there was a box on my front porch. So I took it inside. Here it is on my bed:

I decided to open the box. Here it is with the flaps open:

I wonder what's inside? Hmmm. Oh! It's Tick and Caitlin! Glee commences.

Look how pretty it is. I refrained from pulling a Maya Banks and licking the cover . . . barely. (I may have kissed it once or twice).

See? Glee.

I am so excited, I can't stand it. I think I'll go run around the yard now.

Monday Musings

2008-10-06T19:28:00.000-05:00

Scenes from Winfree's life: LaRoix, le kitteh. Originally, when Monster #2 brought her home from the flea market (don't ask), she thought "she" was a "he" and the name was Leroy. By the time we realized said skittish kitten was a girl, she was already named Leroy. So a French bastardization and her name is now LaRoix. She is the best cat ever!

The rough draft of my review of literature is turned in and approved by my professor with very few comments! Whoo!

Now, I'm working on updating grades, then I need to focus on revisions on Chris's book. I have preliminary cover art for Fall Into Me, Troy Lee's book, and it's incredibly beautiful. I can't wait until it's official so I can share it.

Fall Break is this weekend, and I'm very glad. I'm so tired, and I need this break.

How's everyone's week going?

Hmmm . . .

2008-10-05T09:09:00.001-05:00

Can I just be an ostrich and put my head in the sand?

The Good, The Bad and the Down-Right-Ugly

2008-10-01T22:38:00.001-05:00

Scenes from St. Augustine -- Graffiti from a window front at St. George Street. I snapped it for the allusion. I'm planning to make a big copy for my classroom as the seniors are beginning 1984.

I am fortunate enough to have a career I love. I can't imagine not teaching, even on the days when I'm tired and frustrated and grumbling aloud about finding something else to do with my degree. Today was one of those weird blends of what I love and hate about what I do for a living.

The bad. Oh, and it was bad. For about six weeks, I've been teaching the concepts of what makes up Post-Modern literature to my American Lit classes. In Georgia, American Lit is the only required English for all high school students and it has a high-stakes test attached to it. The standard relating to literary time periods, their context, etc. is hugely important and shows up on the EOCT and the graduation test. So when I'm teaching those concepts, it's crucial that kids get them. For some reason, this standard is hard for them to master.

So, for six weeks, I've been teaching my heart out. I could see them beginning to get the ideas. I had kids who were coming in for extra help on their Post-Modern paper (part of their culminating activity). I had them write rough drafts and peer critique and all the stuff that usually leads to successful essays. I had 99% of them turn in a paper, on time. I was thrilled.

Then I started grading.

By the tenth paper (about one-third through the kids), I knew we were in trouble. The knowledge was there. Not perfect, but there. The application of knowledge was there -- again, not perfect, but there. But they were failing. I went back to the rubric, checked it against the unit, against the standards. No faultiness in the rubric.

Finally, after I was braindead from grading (and ready to cry because I'd promised these kids that I'd set them up for success and give them what they needed to succeed and they were failing), it occurred to me that the problem lay in the fact that the rubric assessed multiple standards. Yes, they had the literary period context standard. They were missing points on the writing/grammar and the providing-sufficient evidence standards. Lightbulb! I can work with that.

However, that still left me with the task of returning papers with failing grades on them to a group of kids who'd been working really, really hard. And I was going to say, "Hey, you worked hard, but it wasn't good enough. Sorry, better luck next time."? Uh, no. Not in my world.

So they have papers. They were devastated and that was probably the most uncomfortable class period I've ever had. I have no problem laying down a failing grade where the kid has blown off the work or just slacked or whatever. But this killed me, because I felt like the failure (and in some ways I was). We're in that classroom together, and when they don't do well, that means we've not done well.

In the end, we came to an agreement. If the grade was less than an "A," they are required to revise and resubmit. I'm going to do targeted instruction and small group conferencing with them. Then I'll regrade. Hopefully, the results will be . . .

The Good. I *heart* my students. Some days, I want to smack them, but I do adore them (and unfortunately for me, a certain group of fifteen know that a little too well and will attempt shamelessly to turn it to their advantage). Anyway, this afternoon, two juniors came in to see if I'd graded their essays yet (I still had ten or so from one class to go). There were seniors milling around. The conversation went a little like this:

Junior 1, rolling his eyes playfully: I have to go home and read this boring book you're making us read.

Me: Boring? It's Gatsby, only the best American novel ever--

Junior 1: No, that would be To Kill a Mockingbird.

Me: No comparison--

Senior 1: Y'all are reading Gatsby. I love that book.

Senior 2: You have to get to the end, but it's worth it. The movie is pretty good, but it doesn't stand up to the book.

(I'm looking between them, wondering if they're being sarcastic, then picking up my jaw when I realize they're sincere.)

Can you say English teacher's dream?!

Anyway, it's midnight, I'm tired and I still have a ton of stuff to do this week. I'm pondering how I can have the seniors turn my classroom into a representation of the Orwellian society in 1984 . . .

Five Reasons F. Scott Fitzgerald Is a Genius

2008-09-29T21:06:00.002-05:00

1. "There was music from my neighbor's house through the summer nights. In his blue gardens and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars" (43).

2) "Her face was sad and lovely with bright things in it, bright eyes and a bright passionate mouth--but there was an excitment in her voice that men who had cared for her found difficult to forget: a singing compulsion, a whispered 'Listen,' a promise that she had done gay, exciting things a while since and that there were gay, exciting things hovering in the next hour" (14).

3) "--but no one swooned backward on Gatsby and no French bob touched Gatsby's shoulder and no singing quartets were formed iwth Gatsby's head for one link" (55).

4) "The modesty of the demand shook me. He had waited five years and bought a mansion where he dispensed starlight to casual moths so that he could 'come over' some afternoon to a stranger's garden" (83).

5) The whole darn book. Read it. More than once.

Top 100 Banned Books, 2000-2007

2008-09-29T00:00:00.000-05:00

Banned Books Week, September 27 - October 4, 2008

From ala.org, here is the list of Top 100 Banned/Challenged Books in 2000-2007. How many have you read?

My results:

1 Harry Potter J.K. Rowling -- No (but Monster #1 has)
2 Alice series Phyllis Reynolds Naylor -- Some
3 The Chocolate War Robert Cormier -- Yes
4 Of Mice and Men John Steinbeck -- Yes
5 I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings Maya Angelou -- Yes
6 Scary Stories Alvin Schwartz -- No
7 Fallen Angels Walter Dean Myers -- Yes (and Monster #1 is currently reading it)
8 It’s Perfectly Normal Robie Harris -- No
9 And Tango Makes Three Justin Richardson/Peter Parnell -- No
10 Captain Underpants Dav Pilkey -- Yes (Why the heck is Capt. Underpants challenged?!)
11 The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn Mark Twain -- Yes
12 The Bluest Eye Toni Morrison -- Yes
13 Forever Judy Blume -- Yes (one of my students is reading it; her mom bought it for her)
14 The Color Purple Alice Walker -- Yes
15 The Perks of Being A Wallflower Stephen Chbosky -- No
16 Killing Mr. Griffin Lois Duncan -- Yes. Loved it.
17 Go Ask Alice Anonymous -- Yes
18 King and King Linda de Haan -- No
19 Catcher in the Rye J.D. Salinger -- Only if 3 chapters count. I hated it and DNF.
20 Bridge to Terabithia Katherine Paterson -- Yes
21 The Giver Lois Lowry -- Yes
22 We All Fall Down Robert Cormier -- Yes
23 To Kill A Mockingbird Harper Lee` -- Yes. I'm teaching it next month.
24 Beloved Toni Morrison -- Yes
25 The Face on the Milk Carton Caroline Cooney -- Yes (another what-the-heck title)
26 Snow Falling on Cedars David Guterson -- No
27 My Brother Sam Is Dead James Lincoln Collier -- Yes
28 In the Night Kitchen Maurice Sendak -- No
29 His Dark Materials series Philip Pullman -- No
30 Gossip Girl series Cecily von Ziegesar -- No
31 What My Mother Doesn’t Know Sonya Sones -- No
32 Angus, Thongs, and Full Frontal Snogging Louise Rennison -- No (but I'm so picking it up, just because of the title)
33 It’s So Amazing Robie Harris -- No
34 Arming America Michael Bellasiles -- No (but it sounds cool)
35 Kaffir Boy Mark Mathabane -- No
36 Blubber Judy Blume -- Yes
37 Brave New World Aldous Huxley -- Yes
38 Athletic Shorts Chris Crutcher -- No
39 Bless Me, Ultima Rudolfo Anaya -- No
40 Life is Funny E.R. Frank -- No
41 Daughters of Eve Lois Duncan -- Yes
42 Crazy Lady Jane Leslie Conly -- No
43 The Great Gilly Hopkins Katherine Paterson -- Yes
44 You Hear Me Betsy Franco -- No
45 Slaughterhouse Five Kurt Vonnegut -- Yes
46 Whale Talk Chris Crutcher -- No
47 The Adventures of Super Diaper Baby Dav Pilkey -- No
48 The Facts Speak for Themselves Brock Cole -- No
49 The Terrorist Caroline Cooney -- Yes
50 Mick Harte Was Here Barbara Park -- No
51 Summer of My German Soldier Bette Green -- Yes
52 The Upstairs Room Johanna Reiss -- No (although I think I may own a copy)
53 When Dad Killed Mom Julius Lester -- No
54 Blood and Chocolate Annette Curtis Klause -- No
55 The Fighting Ground Avi -- Yes
56 The Things They Carried Tim O'Brien -- Yes
57 Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry Mildred Taylor -- Yes
58 Fat Kid Rules the World K.L. Going -- No
59 The Earth, My Butt, and Other Big, Round Things Carolyn Mackler -- No
60 A Time To Kill John Grisham -- Yes
61 Rainbow Boys Alex Sanchez -- No
62 Olive’s Ocean Kevin Henkes -- No
63 One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest Ken Kesey -- No
64 A Day No Pigs Would Die Robert Newton Peck -- Yes (What? Who challenged this?!)
65 Speak Laurie Halse Anderson -- Yes
66 Always Running Luis Rodriguez -- No
67 Black Boy Richard Wright -- Yes
68 Julie of the Wolves Jean Craighead George -- Yes
69 Deal With It! Esther Drill -- No
70 Detour for Emmy Marilyn Reynolds -- No
71 Draw Me A Star Eric Carle -- No
72 Fahrenheit 451 Ray Bradbury -- Yes (Um, ironic much that this book is on the list?)
73 Harris and Me Gary Paulsen -- No
74 Junie B. Jones series Barbara Park -- Yes
75 So Far From the Bamboo Grove Yoko Watkins -- No
76 Song of Solomon Toni Morrison -- Yes
77 Staying Fat for Sarah Byrnes Chris Crutcher -- No
78 What’s Happening to My Body Book Lynda Madaras -- No
79 The Boy Who Lost His Face Louis Sachar -- No
80 The Lovely Bones Alice Sebold -- Yes
81 Anastasia Again! Lois Lowry -- Yes
82 Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret Judy Blume -- Yes
83 Bumps In the Night Harry Allard -- No
84 Goosebumps series R.L. Stine -- Yes (Monster #2 glommed them)
85 Shade’s Children Garth Nix -- No
86 Cut Patricia McCormick -- No
87 Grendel John Gardner -- Yes
88 The House of Spirits Isabel Allende -- No
89 I Saw Esau Iona Opte -- No
90 Ironman Chris Crutcher -- No
91 The Stupids series Harry Allard -- No
92 Taming the Star Runner S.E. Hinton -- Yes
93 Then Again, Maybe I Won’t Judy Blume -- Yes
94 Tiger Eyes Judy Blume -- Yes
95 Like Water for Chocolate Laura Esquivel -- No
96 Nathan’s Run John Gilstrap -- No
97 Pinkerton, Behave! Steven Kellog -- No
98 Freaky Friday Mary Rodgers -- Yes
99 Halloween ABC Eve Merriam -- No
100 Heather Has Two Mommies Leslea Newman -- No

Get Hooked . . .

2008-09-28T14:51:00.001-05:00

For more info, click HERE.

Holding Patterns

2008-09-28T10:43:00.003-05:00

Scenes from St. Augustine -- Pretty tame white peacock at the Fountain of Youth. Yes, the displays are a little dated and a tad hokey, but the planetarium is awesome and the grounds (14 acres of them) are beautiful. It's shady and a great place to spend a hot afternoon in the Oldest City.

I know I've been very cryptic lately about being at a crossroads and not knowing where to go. I'm struggling with what I want to do once my masters is finished in June -- do I want to teach at a different school? Do I want to apply for a different position, one that would take me out of the classroom?

I once made a huge, three-year-long career mistake, and I'm terrified of making another one. Sometimes I think I let that fear of change and the fear of making mistakes hold me back from what I'm supposed to do. Then I think that . . . well, I think a lot of things, none of which are making much sense. Lately my head has been this big hamster wheel that goes nowhere. I even started making charts of pros and cons, and still I'm nowhere near being out of the holding pattern (yes, I know -- I'm mixing metaphors everywhere. I told you my brain was on the fritz!). Why, you ask, am I even worrying about this in September? Because if I want to apply at other schools or for other positions, my resume has to go out in January. I'm trying to figure out if my niggling sense of dissatisfaction means I need something different or if . . . I don't know.

See? Nowhere near an answer. I guess I can just get used to this holding pattern for a few more weeks, until my brain decides it wants to work on making decisions.

What are you up to this lovely September Sunday morning?

Total Randomness

2008-09-27T21:20:00.006-05:00

Scenes from St. Augustine -- A view at dusk of the cemetary next to the visitor's center.

My cousin is getting married. My sister emailed to say he was sending invitations but didn't want gifts. This might be a good thing, because as said beloved sister pointed out, what does one buy a millionaire?

Do you know how weird it is to contemplate being related to a millionaire?

I'm still working on revising Chris's book. Said revisions are due next week. I'm trying to wrap them up, honest I am.

I've been whining to Joan for the last twenty minutes or so about being at a crossroads of sort and not knowing where to go or what to do. I can empathize with my friend Pam, who was working on her first doctoral paper today, in which she had to explore her personal goals and how they intersect with her educational goals. "Personal goals?" she said. "I don't have any!"

She does, of course. She just didn't see them until we'd talked them out. I'm kind of hoping my current situation is the same -- that the answers or goals are there and that I simply don't see them yet.

Any suggestions for how to puzzle out hazy goals or plans? I'm open to them!

Grumbly -- and Not in a Winnie-the-Pooh Way Either

2008-09-24T19:22:00.001-05:00

Hero: Chris Parker. Book: Facing It. Pages left to revise: More than I want to admit to.

I'm very grumbly today. I'm pretty sure Connie is tired of listening to me. I don't even know why I'm grumbly. I just am. I know I'm all grumbly and grouchy when little things that normally don't bother me try to push me over the edge (like kids who don't understand BE QUIET at the beginning of standardized testing situations!).

On the positive side, several juniors came in for extra help with their Post-Modern papers after school the last couple of days. This is a challenging unit, and I can see major progress with their learning. That makes me happy.

But I'm still grumbly.

I've been trying to pre-read the Orwell article my seniors are reading tomorrow, but the office is the family-gathering spot and Monster #2 is in here reading aloud Rifles for Watie, and it's impossible to concentrate on Orwell's rules for the English language while he's reading. So I'm making a chapter two quiz for The Great Gatsby.

Did I mention I'll be teaching 1984, The Great Gatsby and either To Kill a Mockingbird or Lord of the Flies simultaneously? That means 50-60 pages of re-reading nightly because I have to read what the kids are assigned, plus my graduate reading (I'm working on my literature review for my Educational Research class) and my editing and revising.

Yes, I'm still grumbly.

I wonder if I watch Ghost Hunters if that will improve my mood?

Monday Musings: Movies, Kids & Writing

2008-09-22T19:04:00.003-05:00

Scenes from Winfree's hometown -- the school where my mom (and Paula Deen) attended elementary school. Also coincidentally part of the campus where I now teach. It was constructed in the 1930's.

Over the weekend, I previewed the 1963 film version of Lord of the Flies so I could show it to my seniors this week. I'd heard it was a great adaptation; however, I was greatly disappointed by it. Usually, I prefer the book to any movie, and this was no exception. Although parts of the film were well done, there was so much on the page that didn't translate to the screen, and I ended up feeling cheated. The ending, especially, disappointed -- the ending dialogue was cut and so all of the subtext of Golding's denouement, with its skillful point of view shift and cutting irony, was lost. The kids will still love having a movie day, but I'm interested to hear their take on the film versus the book.

Next up in Brit Lit? 1984. I'm excited! I love teaching it, although it is a major challenge for me.

The juniors are reading The Great Gatsby in American Lit and wrapping up their Post-Modern projects this week.

Freshmen? They've just come off The Quest, which they didn't do so well with. I hate that because generally if students don't do well with it, I end up playing prison guard instead of teacher . . . and if I wanted to be a prison guard, I'd go apply for that job. Anyway, they are continuing to work on their short story unit. I'm ready to move to the second unit, which continues to explore the short story and its elements, but includes a creative-writing component.

On the writing front, I recieved an email that Truth and Consequences was chosen for Samhain's Kindle giveaway in October. More details to follow.

I'm still working on revisions to Facing It, Chris and Ruthie's book. I'm also thinking through the plotting for a new WIP, a contemporary romance. Here's one of the photos I picked up for my hero, Vince Falconetti:

I'm off to do some school plotting. Hope you had a great Monday!

Sunday Check-In

2008-09-21T19:01:00.001-05:00

Scenes from Winfree's hometown -- This used to be my parents' grocery store. They opened it when I was in kindergarten and retired when Monster #2 as a year old. I have lots of great memories of this place, like playing with the buggies (shopping carts for those of you outside the South) and even spending Saturdays working the cash register as a teenager. One of my really good friends from high school, Vann, was the bag boy then. He was killed in a car accident his freshman year of college; I still miss him.

Not much going on here. I'm working on revisions on Chris's book. We spent a lot of time this weekend working in the yard, and it looks so much better -- not so much like a jungle anymore. Educational Research is going better than I anticipated, so that's good. I have a new man in my life, too -- my new grandnephew who put in his appearance yesterday. From all accounts, mother and baby are doing well.

Anything new with you?

It's FRIDAY!

2008-09-19T05:53:00.000-05:00

Scenes from Winfree's Hometown -- A side view of the grandparents' home. Some of my favorite childhood memories -- like spending the night and sleeping on a lawn chair -- revolve around this home.

Is there anything more to say than . . . "It's FRIDAY!"? I'm tired. I need to sleep in tomorrow. We have major yardwork to do this weekend, but I'm looking forward to some downtime, too.

What are your weekend plans?

Football Players Meet Romance Novels.

2008-09-15T16:21:00.000-05:00

Scenes from My Hometown -- the walkway to my grandparents' home. It has fallen into disrepair, but my parents are planning renovations.

So what happens with macho high school football players* meet romance novels? Hilarity ensues.

My juniors are working on Post-Modernism projects in which they read any novel by any American author which falls into the Post-Modernist time period. So a few days ago, when they brought in their books, I kinda/sorta did a doubletake when I saw the purple cover of one football player's book. He held up the relatively thin paperback, with its orange-ish cover art of a secret agent and the words "Harlequin Intrigue" emblazoned across the top, and said, "I got it from my stepmom. It's okay, right?"

"Um, yeah." I glanced at the book again. "Are you sure you're going to read that?"

"Yeah! I read the back and it sounds kinda good."

I shrugged and went on to log other kids' books -- lots of Stephenie Myer and Twilight**, Sachar and Holes, Tayari Jones and Leaving Atlanta***, even one Winfree and What Mattered Most. The kids spent several days getting immersed in their books. Then, last Thursday, Mr. Football player (I'll call him Robert) looks up from his tome with a horrified expression. "Ms. Winfree! This is a romance novel!"

"Um, yeah, Robert. It is. I thought you knew that."

"No! Why didn't you tell me?!"

By this time, his football buddies are laughing and generally having a great time at his expense. I pin the most vocal (and one of the smartest) kid on the front row (let's call him Ray) with a stare. "You have a problem with romance novels?"

"No, ma'am." He gestures toward Robert's book. "It's just . . ."

"Yes?"

"Nevermind."

I thought so.

Anyway, two or three days pass. Robert is still reading his Harlequin Intrigue. His football buddies are still giving him a fit. I might, maybe, just perhaps have gotten frustrated with his tendency to talk excessively during class and said, instead of threatening him with up-downs at football practice, "Hush and read your romance novel."

So today, it's reading time. All is quiet. Robert snickers. He becomes intently engrossed in his book. He looks up. "Hey, Ms. Winfree, this is a great book."

Now, why do I just know at that point what kind of scene he's discovered?

He goes back to reading. A few minutes later, I am pulled from conferencing with a student about her book by the sounds of a small scuffle. Robert and Ray are tussling over the book, Ray leaning over dangerously in his desk to read whatever page Robert is on. I sigh, excuse myself, go separate the boys, who by now are giggling like seven-year-old girls at a slumber party.

The bell rings a little later and I notice that yet a third football player (we can refer to him as Tom) now has the book and is engrossed. He looks up. "Hey, do we have anymore of these books?"

Well, they're reading . . . that's a good thing, right?
--------

*Names have been changed.

**In my classroom, this series of books is moving beyond what was a girls-only audience. The girls have talked it up so much, the boys are picking them up.

***If you have not read this book, go buy a copy. It's a must-read.

Sunday Check-In

2008-09-14T10:33:00.000-05:00

Scenes from St. Augustine -- The Atlantic Ocean, off Vilano Beach

I was going to post football pics, but left my camera in the car and was too lazy to go back for it. Our boys played so well last night. I'm really proud of them. We actually scored! Final score, 16 to 6.

My first paper for Educational Research is turned in. I have edits due tonight, grades due tomorrow. After today, I need to work on new units and revisions for Chris's book (due the end of September).

I haven't been as active on here the past few days, and y'all I'm sorry, but my life has little of interest going on right now. Hearts Awakened is still holding on at number ten on the bestsellers list, which is nice, but I'm pretty sure you're tired of hearing me yak about that. I'm trying to update my website but have a ways to go on that. I'm at a crossroads writing-wise as I try to figure out what project I need to tackle next.

Other than that, I got nothing. What are you up to?

My Brain Is a Morass

2008-09-09T17:39:00.000-05:00

Scenes from Winfree's Classroom: The rejection wall. Those are my rejection letters and current rejection count, overlaid with pithy motivational statements. It's meant to be motivational.

Today? Today I do not have the clue to motivation, teacherly or writerly. I went for a run and my brain is all over this weird crossroads place I seem to be at in multiple areas, but it did little to straighten out the mess.

I'm hoping it's just an off day. I thought about writing out what all was in my head, but it doesn't even make sense completely to me and as I said, I'm not close to figuring out directions, etc.

Snagged a cool British poem that sparked a censorship furor via Smart Bitches. I'm using it and the author's reply poem with my seniors Thursday. It's perfect for Lord of the Flies.

Taking my grumpy, contemplative self off to fix hot dogs for the family. Hey, at least we're eating together as a family.

Characterization

2008-09-08T17:48:00.000-05:00

Since I was showing you character photos yesterday, I thought I'd share photos of the characterization evidence my 9th graders gathered about me by playing detective in my room. They could look in my desk, around the room, anywhere they wanted except my purse.

Here's the class debriefing:

These kids are smart. All that from five minutes of browsing? Let's see what they got right . . .

Well, they're doing pretty well. I can't stand Jazz Pepsi -- those cans in the class fridge belong to the Monsters. And I'm not a Republican. The Republican cap that led them to believe so was left behind last year by a kid doing his research project on politics. So what else did they get right . . .?

They're doing well. It's not so much that I like stuffed animals but that my DH is really good at those claw machines and I hate to discard his gifts. I do like some classic literature, but I think they overlooked all the current commercial fiction on my bookshelves, too. One more column . . .

The bananas one is funny. Someone gave me a box of bananas and I've been handing them out for days to get rid of them. You notice they called me beautiful, right? Listen, kids, flattery isn't getting you out of anything.

Overall, they did really, really well. I like this exercise. It gets them moving yet provides a purpose and is a nice segue into looking for characterization in the literature they read.

Pictorial Inspiration

2008-09-07T14:32:00.000-05:00

So I have to have pictures for reference when I write. I look for photos that match what's in my head. Now, usually, once I'm beyond the first chapter or so, I can put the photos away. Anyhoo, I was organzing and deleting files on my computer, thought I'd share the photos I'd pulled for the Men of Chandler County.

Tick (2 shots)

Troy Lee:

Chris:

Mark:

See, this is soooo much more fun that figuring out a problem for my Ed Research course.

Sunday Morning Stuff

2008-09-07T09:27:00.001-05:00

Scenes from St. Augustine -- A view of the Matanzas Bay from atop the Castillo de San Marco.

What's going on this morning . . .

Mrs. Giggles does not love the Cookie. But that's okay. I've been doing this long enough to get that what works for one reader (or editor or agent) does not work for another. I think I'm going to post the 69 review on my rejection wall in my classroom. My kids would love that idea.
However, others do love the Cookie. I have have two recommended read reviews, an A+ at the Good, the Bad and the Unread, and I've gotten some really nice reader feedback. And it's still holding the #1 spot at MBAM.
More laundry.
I have to choose my topic for my Educational Research class. I'm afraid, very afraid. What if I pick a topic I can't find enough literature on? I don't have to turn my topic in until later in the week. I think I'm going to read ahead in the course material then do some preliminary library searching to make sure there's info out there on whatever I choose to do.
I need to plan for next week. I have finally figured out the key to accomplishing things with my ninth graders -- group work. They don't do well with straight instruction time, so I'm trying to work as much as possible into a minilesson followed by practice model for them.
Edits. I have about 65 pages to go on Troy Lee's book. I should get 20 pages or so done today.
Continue fiddling with the website. I'm trying to clean it up, update and add new content. I am s-l-o-w with the whole web thing. But I'm working on it.

What's up with you this morning?

Hey, Look!

2008-09-06T09:08:00.001-05:00

From My Bookstore and More this morning:

Best Sellers:
1. Hearts Awakened by Linda Winfree
2. The Boys Back Home by Sierra Dafoe
3. Fated by Lauren Dane
4. Her Master's Pleasure by Kassie Burns
5. Bound by the Past by Mackenzie McKade
6. Behind the Mask by Tawny Taylor
7. What's a Ghoul to Do? by Mardi Ballou
8. Sweet Dreams by Dana Marie Bell
9. Dante's Inferno by Evie Byrne
10. Jaci's Experiment by Bianca D'Arc

Did I Mention I'm a Cult Member?

2008-09-05T18:25:00.002-05:00

Scenes From St. Augustine -- The Ghostly Experience walking tour. No, there aren't really dead hamsters buried under the brick street. But yes, the Augustin Inn was haunted . . . until they had it exorcised. That's the DH in the green shirt and the white baseball cap.

Yes, I belong to a a cult, a teacher cult that worships reading guru Kelly Gallagher. It all started a couple of years ago when I went to a workshop on reading strategies for at-risk learners. The materials included two of Gallagher's books and I fell in love. So I've been pushing Wayne (hey, Wayne -- you need a blog and a website. You also need to finish that darn book, but that's a different story!) to read Deeper Reading. He's had it, he just hasn't read it. So at the beginning of the year, he finally gave in to the yummy-teacher-goodness that is Kelly Gallagher's Deeper Reading and now Michelle (the 8th grade LA teacher) and I have sucked him into the Gallagher cult.

Bwa-ha-ha-ha!

Want to know how bad it is? Wednesday morning, I walk by the two having a conversation. Michelle stops me to ask my take on essay-length with middle schoolers. I mention using powerwriting as a teaching technique and Wayne says, "Is that Gallagher?" No, but that starts a whole 'nother Gallagher-worshipfest as we talk about how we're using his techniques and how they're working in our rooms.

Yes, we are sad people.

But if you teach language arts in grades 4-12, you need the Gallagher goodness. Seriously.

(And Anonymous, when you pop by -- all of our ELA teachers in grades 4-12 need a copy of Gallagher's Deeper Reading of their own. We should do staff development with those strategies.)

**

Misc. Notes:

1) Hearts Awakened is garnering lovely reviews and is at #2 on the MBAM top ten list!

2) I'm fiddling with my website. If you pop over there and things are wonky, that's why.

3) Monster #1 is at a middle school dance. Considering how much effort he put into his appearance, I do believe scamming on middle school girls was on his agenda. He was horrified when I mentioned possibly chaperoning said dance. I am an evil mom.

Excerpt: HEARTS AWAKENED

2008-09-04T20:50:00.002-05:00

It’s not the past that wounds us…it’s the ghosts we hold onto.

Hearts Awakened by Linda Winfree
Book Six of the Hearts of the South series

A lifetime ago Mark Cook’s pregnant wife vanished, taking everything and leaving an empty, aching hole in his life. Since then, as penance for his failure as a husband and father, he’s refused to allow himself to live. Refused to lay his sleeping heart on the line for any woman.

Enter Tori Calvert, his best friend’s baby sister. Suddenly, against his will—and against his better judgment—that same damaged heart seems determined to reawaken. And Mark’s not sure he can withstand the pain.

When she was a teenager, a vicious attack ripped away Tori’s very essence as a woman. Finally she feels ready to focus her existence on something other than her job as a rape crisis counselor. And to step outside the shelter of her loving, protective family. She trusts Mark more than any man, yet fear holds her back.

Fear that even the healing light of love may not be enough to banish the shadows of the past.

**

With the bathroom light offering slight illumination, Tori lay awake and stared at the ceiling. Outside her window, car doors slammed and disembodied voices moved along the sidewalk. Another car cruised through the parking lot, a spotlight flashing briefly against the heavy drapes. In the room on her east side, the television droned.
She hadn’t heard Mark’s door or his moving around in his room. Restless, she flopped over in the bed. The blanket pulled at her belly button ring and she winced, rubbing the spot. Above her, a deep voice rumbled, followed by a roll of male laughter.
The red numerals on the clock radio glowed. After one in the morning. Where was he?
Like she had to ask. The idea caused a painful clench in her chest and she rubbed at her gritty eyes. Pushing the covers aside, she padded to the window and perched on the ledge to peek between the drapes. Nothing moved in the parking lot. No vehicles traveled on the street.
A figure stood silhouetted on the sidewalk facing the bay. A familiar male build, arms at his sides, head slightly bent. The ache in her chest increased and she clutched the edge of the drape. Everything in the line of his body spoke of intense pain and misery.
Go to him.
“I can’t,” she whispered. He didn’t want her comfort or help. What he wanted was easy, anonymous sex. He was right—he wanted the one thing she couldn’t offer him.
As she watched, he lifted his head and turned toward the motel. She froze, not wanting him to see her watching. Soft footsteps shuffled on the walkway. His door opened and closed, and she breathed a slow sigh of relief. At least he’d come back alone. He hadn’t brought the other woman, whoever she was, with him.
The other woman. Tori shook her head. For there to be another woman, a relationship had to exist, and it definitely didn’t.
His television clicked on and the volume dropped quickly. She leaned against the wall, eyes closed. He was on the other side of that partition, getting ready for bed.
“Stop thinking about that. He’s back, and he’s alone. You can go to bed now. He obviously is.”
She slid from her perch on the window ledge. She’d grab a glass of water and go back to bed, try to get some sleep.
As she passed the second bed, her right foot caught the corner of the platform, under the bedspread. Pain exploded in her toes. She yelped, bent over with the force of the agony moving up her leg in waves.
Clutching her injured toes, she hopped on one foot and bit back a moan. Lord, that hurt.
“Tori?” Mark knocked on the connecting door, his voice sharp with concern. “Are you all right?”
She couldn’t speak, tears blurring her vision, her energy focused on breathing and fighting off the burning pain.
Blood leaked between her fingers. Biting her lip, she dropped on the end of the bed, rocking back and forth.
“Tori?” If anything, his voice was sharper, a note of alarm creeping in around the edges. “Tori, I’m coming in.”
Whatever. He could walk to Timbuktu if he wanted. All she wanted was for the throbbing in her entire foot to stop.
“What’s wrong?” He knelt in front of her, his hands running over her. Checking for injuries. She recognized that much. “Tori, what happened?”
His voice wavered. She shook her head, still clutching her foot. “My toes.”
The sharp gray gaze dropped to her foot and he swore. He cradled her heel in his palm. “Let me see.”
“Hit them on the bed.” She forced her fingers to let go. Blood dripped on the carpet.
He lifted her foot. “Oh, honey.”
One strong finger probed at the side of her toe and she sucked in a breath. “Ouch!”
“I’m going to get a towel and some ice. Hang on a sec.”
Gently, he set her foot down and rose to return to his room. In seconds, he was back, carrying two towels and his ice bucket.
“Here.” He lifted her foot again, wrapped one towel underneath and placed the second, filled with ice, along the top of her toes. She flinched. “I know,” he said, his voice soothing. His fingers moved over her ankle in a comforting caress. “It’ll feel better in a sec.”
Under the numbing cold, the pain receded slightly and she stared at him. Barefoot and resting on his haunches, he still wore his khakis, but he’d shed his polo shirt. A fine layer of dark hair covered his chest and formed an arrow down the line of his stomach. A small tattoo lurked between his pecs, an infinity swirl angled to the left, over his heart. He rested her foot against his thigh, muscles rippling beneath her heel. Her breath stopped, but this time it had nothing to do with pain. Her fingers tingled. What would it feel like if she traced the tattoo, ran her hands over his chest? Were those muscles as hard as the ones in his arms?
“Wiggle your toes for me.” She did, her gaze on his hands touching her. Deft and gentle, his fingers moved over her foot and shivers trickled through her, almost making her forget the burning pulsing. “I don’t think anything’s broken. You have a cut, but it’s not very deep. We can clean it up and put a bandage on it.”
“Thanks.” Warmth traveled out from his touch, an odd contrast to the numbing cold at her toes. He glanced up at her and all the warmth died. Deep pink lipstick smudged the corner of his mouth. Leaning forward, she swiped it away with her thumb. “Did she make you forget?”
He froze, staring at her. Slowly, he shook his head. “No. I mean, I didn’t…” A hard swallow moved his throat. “I couldn’t.”
A trickle of icy water dripped down the side of her foot. Tori moistened dry lips. “Why not?”“Because it didn’t feel right. Because it’s not working anymore. She probably could have made me forget Jenny for a little while…” Another swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “But she couldn’t make me forget you.”

http://www.samhainpublishing.com/romance/hearts-awakened

Do You Have Your Cookie Yet?

2008-09-01T23:03:00.000-05:00

Hearts Awakened releases today!

Hearts Awakened is a Recommended Read at Fallen Angel Reviews!

"Ms. Winfree’s skill at putting emotion into words is nothing short of genius, she had me laughing, crying, cheering and just a little hot... she had the mix of want and fear that Tori experiences perfect. Anyone that reads Hearts Awakened will not walk away unaffected and I can guarantee you’ll fall in love with Ms. Winfree’s work." -- Rachel C., Fallen Angel Reviews

For an excerpt and more information, click HERE.

AWOL

2008-08-19T21:05:00.003-05:00

School is kicking my tushy. Six classes and four preps. My brain is tired.

Give me a few days to get into the swing of things again and I'll be back on a more regular basis.

**

Edited to Add: Hearts Awakened releases in two weeks! I can't wait!

Sunday Check-In

2008-08-10T09:59:00.001-05:00

Scenes from St. Augustine -- One of the many bed and breakfast inns in the historic district. but with those palms and that upstairs balcony, doesn't this look like a great place to stay?

My updated TTD for school:

1) Powerpoints for first day (I dreamed last night I'd forgotten to do this)

2) Compile updated senior project packets

3) Turn in my professional development paperwork for the leadership seminar I'm taking in September

4) Find a room mother

5) Seating charts

6) Write second units for the year to round out the first nine weeks and update my gradebook pages to be printed

7) Write rubrics/test plans for 9th and 11th grades

8) Write journal prompts and create exit slips

Tomorrow night is Open House. Wednesday is the first day of school.

On the writing front, I need to finish my blurb form for Fall Into Me. I'm stuck on the section on comparative titles. I also have not yet started a new book.

I need to update my portfolio for grad school (we're required to do so at the end of each class). The only part I really dislike is writing the rationale statements that we are required to submit.

Today's the Day

2008-08-05T07:14:00.001-05:00

Scenes from St. Augustine -- More homes on San Marco facing the bay front. I love the one with wood shakes on the right.

Well, that's it. Summer is basically over. I'm prepared-prepared -- room is ready, units are written, etc. Mentally? Not so much. However, I did finish up everything for EDUC 6672 yesterday (except for inserting items in my portfolio), so I have a break from grad school until early September. That will be nice, as the first few weeks of a new school year are always crazy.

Today I have nothing on my agenda. That's right -- nothing. (Although I'm pretty sure I'll end up doing, well, something).

What's your idea of a do-nothing day?

TBR Piles

2008-08-01T07:40:00.001-05:00

Scenes from St. Augustine -- One of the buildings from the historic village living museum. It's on St. George Street and I snapped this during our Ghostly Experience walking tour.

Mary has two hundred books in her TBR* pile.

{clunk}

Two. Hundred.

Wow.

First, I should probably admit I don't even have a TBR pile. Well, Monster #2 has a TBR pile, on the corner of my desk, and it has three books in it. I think the reason I don't possess a TBR pile is that I buy a book and I read it. Then it usually gets passed on to someone else or placed on the bookcase in my classroom (I have a small house -- there's not a lot of room for extra book storage). I have a couple of baskets in my office that hold the professional books I'm currently using or reading, but in the last couple of years, I've found myself buying more and more ebooks, simply because I don't have to find tangible space for them.

So now I'm trying to envision the space two hundred books would take up. That's . . . wow.

Am I the only one without a huge TBR pile? And if you have a big one, where do you keep it all?

-----

*To Be Read

Summer Is Almost Over . . .

2008-07-31T07:54:00.002-05:00

Scenes from St. Augustine -- A really great house across from the Tolomato (sp?) cemetery, the night of our Ghostly Experience walking tour. I was drawn to the blue on the shutters and trim.

Oh, I have soooooo much to do before I go back to work next week. I need to . . .

1) Finish writing unit plans.
2) Make calendars for August & September for three classes.
3) Write letters to my homeroom kids.
4) Write parent letter and create postcards to go in said letters.
5) Get my hair cut.
6) Monster haircuts
7) Monster #2 checkup before school
8) Finish setting up my classroom
9) Call out technician to fix my dryer!

I'm probably forgetting some things. Anything interesting on your back-to-school TTD?

Stuff and Nonsense

2008-07-28T22:55:00.001-05:00

Scenes from St. Augustine -- More bay front buildings. I love the architecture -- all the second-floor balconies.

I don't really have a lot to talk about. I spent the day viewing two weeks' worth of graduate class videos and discussion posts. I'm working ahead. :-) Then I wrote a new opening unit for my 9th Lit/Comp class.

It looks like I might have a break between this grad course and the next one -- about a month, if I'm right. (If I'm not, that's okay too). The break would be nice, as the first month of school kicks my butt on a yearly basis. I always think I'm all prepared, and then I realize . . . I'm not.

On another note, the house is more organized and relatively clean. I'm hoping that this weekend, we'll be installing the patio doors and that will clear the way for painting in the living room. Oh, joy. I love the freshly painted look. The actual painting, not so much. But we're almost finished! Yay!

And on that note . . . I'm going to bed.

You Tell Me . . .

2008-07-27T22:08:00.000-05:00

Scenes from Renovation -- the DH nailing new panels into the kitchen. My poor house!

Okay, this is the pic that got me into major trouble. See, on the other side of the wall where the DH is nailing? Yeah. That's where the electrical box is. He hit the nail, I snapped the pic, the flash went off, the DH screamed (I was going to write "yelled," but really he screamed like a girl.).

Obviously, my camera flash mimics the electrical flash of someone nailing into an electrical box . . .

I keep trying to convince the man that with enough time and perspective, this will be our favorite too-funny-for-words renovation story. He doesn't agree, as he's the one who believed he'd just been electrocuted since his wife lacks common sense and foresight from time to time.

Just a hint for the future -- if someone's nailing around your electrical box, don't take their picture.

So you tell me -- funny? Or not funny?

More Pre-Pre-Planning

2008-07-25T08:56:00.002-05:00

Scenes from St. Augustine -- This building fronts San Marco and faces the bay. It houses several shops and the A1A Aleworks. I've heard the food there is really good, although that's another restaurant in the area we haven't tried.

I pulled a sample framework from the GPS website for American Lit, but I think I'm going to teach it the way I normally do. The framework I found is chronological with the genres mixed (the traditional way to teach a survey course). It feels spotty to me, though, to hit a novel here, a short story there, etc.

A friend of mine from another high school introduced me to the concept of frontloading a survey course a few years ago. I tried it, liked it, then turned the fiction semester around so we start at the contemporary period and work backward. Last year was the first time I'd done that and it seemed to work well.

So here's my yearlong plan for 11th American Lit:

First semester: Fiction

1) Contemporary (or Post-Modern) period (short stories by Anne Tyler and John Updike)
2) Modernism: The Great Gatsby
3) Realism: The Awakening
4) Naturalism: Crane
5) Romanticism: The Scarlet Letter

Second Semester: Drama, Non-fiction, poetry

1) The Crucible
2) Colonial & Revolutionary period letters, journals, etc.
3) Transcendentalism: Thoreau & Emerson
4) Poetry: all 400 years of it

The second semseter also contains a 12-week personal research project.

I have to start making calendars for August & September soon. And set up my classroom. And . . .

Pre-Pre-Planning

2008-07-24T09:20:00.002-05:00

Scenes from St. Augustine -- One of the side streets during our Ghostly Experience walking tour. You can just see the guide, in period dress, beyond the blonde woman. The White Lion restaurant is to the left (I've always wanted to eat there). A wine bar was to our left and the drunk guys on the porch starting making ghost noises and following us. That was funny (and meant I had yet another drunk story to share from our trip). BTW, that's my DH to the right in the green shirt and white ballcap.

I've been doing school planning. Here are the outlines for my two ninth grade classes:

9th Lit/Comp

1st Semester: Fiction
The Short Story: Last Rung on the Ladder, The Scarlet Ibis, etc.
Novel Studies: TKAM, at least one more (A Day No Pigs Would Die or . . . something)

2nd Semester: Drama, Nonfiction, Poetry
Romeo & Juliet
Need one or two high-interest nonfiction books
Poetry study/anthology

9th Writers Workshop

1st Semester:
Skills for High School Success (Multimedia presentations, technical writing)
Literary response & analysis

2nd Semester:
Research: the I-search, unless I come up with something different for research since it seems to have migrated to the 8th grade, anyway an introduction to hefty research project
Poetry anthology to correspond with 9th Lit *or* writing a webquest

Here's my new assessment idea. One thing I do know I'm going to expect of my ninth (and eleventh) graders is the maintenance of an outcome-driven portfolio, which they will use at the end of each semester to lead a parent-teacher-student conference (I think this will be my semester exam the first semester). I've been sketching out my outcomes. Each portfolio should contain artifacts that are evidence of:

1) an engaged leaner
2) an improving writer
3) an active reader
4) a student working toward high school success
5) an active thinker

with the totality of the portfolio showing that the student is making progress on the standards and adapting the habits of mind. Portfolios can be multimedia. Following the parent conference, parents are asked to write a reflective piece on the student's portfolio/presentation. This will mean actively teaching kids how to be reflective, how to use the vocabulary of reflection.

I think I'm going to go back to my old way of teaching vocabulary, which is to integrate two words daily with my DOL. This way, they are still exposed to 360 new words per year. I am horrible about not grading vocab homework. Although, I hate to not use the vocab book. I may think of a way to integrate it (the book) differently, as part of an oral or journal activity.

Lightbulb!

2008-07-23T17:36:00.002-05:00

Scenes from St. Augustine -- More houses along the bay front. The white on in the middle, with the balconies, this is a villa-style B&B and there's a martini bar downstairs with outdoor seating. This is so the kind of place I'd love to hang out with Mary and Connie and people watch.

My friend Pam is a middle school media specialist. We used to teach middle school English together (the principal hated us -- we could get into trouble by breathing). A couple of weeks ago, we went for coffee and swung by the school. It was weird being there, but good to be with her. Anyway, she went into her office to get some things and one of those items was a bright yellow folder. She called it her "bright ideas" folder. When she has a neat idea, she jots it down and it goes in that file.

Oh, my heavens. Why didn't I think of that?! I'm constantly jotting ideas for my classroom and lessons and things while reading for my grad courses or talking with fellow teachers or students, then I lose the sticky notes.

Hello! I need a bright ideas folder.

Isn't that a, well, a bright idea?

Morning

2008-07-22T07:49:00.003-05:00

Scenes from St. Augustine -- The Oldest House. It's a museum now and supposedly haunted (the ghost throws Skittles). The Monsters were quite disappointed that they didn't get ghostly Skittles.

I'm having trouble getting motivated this morning. Had my day all planned out -- finish cleaning Monster #1's room, laundry, maybe clean the bathroom. DH wants me to find paperwork. Does he have any idea what's involved in that right now?! Augh!

Over at Samhain, Sharon Cullen's new release Deception is out today. It's neat to see this book release as I critiqued it during an early incarnation. (She was writing it while I was writing His Ordinarly Life, so it's really interesting to have her book coming out the week before HOL appears in print.)

Okay. I have to go search for paperwork. If I don't come back, y'all know what happened.

Tori & Mark . . .

2008-07-21T17:21:00.001-05:00

. . . have cover art!

I love it. Anne Cain is a cover goddess!

My Brain is Shortcircuiting

2008-07-20T19:12:00.002-05:00

Scenes from St. Augustine -- Two of the great houses on San Marco, facing the bay front. I'd love to live in that neighborhood.

My brain is doing weird things. Carol says it's stress. I think I'm just odd. I spent an entire day battling the "I've done nothing with my life, have nothing to show for it" depression, which really isn't me. I spent another few hours obsessing about something that is entirely out of my control. Then last night I had this weird movie-like dream about a possessed house, a dream which featured two of my characters. I never dream about my characters. It was strange and left me all scared, sad and disturbed because their relationship was destroyed by this possessed house and there was nothing I could do about it.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I see the parallels.

Does your brain do weird things when you're under stress? Or is it just me?

Looking Ahead

2008-07-19T09:34:00.000-05:00

Scenes from St. Augustine -- One of the cute houses I like in the historic district. Look, it's Cody, our droll carriage-ride guide! And part of Monster #1's hair -- you'll notice it is uncombed. He drives me insane with that.

Next week is going to be horribly busy for me. I'm working in the house -- not construction, but cleaning and organization. We have too much stuff and everything is in the wrong place. However, we've got to be better organized before school starts, or the Monsters and I will never survive.

I'd hoped the renovation stuff would be complete before school started, but it's not going to happen. We're much closer, but no banana. Maybe by Labor Day or fall break (October). Yeah, that would be good.

Fall Into Me is essentially finished. I have some clean-up, fill-in work to do, but I have until August 6, so I'm good on time. I'm still thinking through what to work on next. I probably won't start anything until after the beginning of August. My brain is tired, and I need to be focused on school prep right now.

Oh, yeah, I have to go work in my classroom next week, too. Where did summer go?!

Have a Great Weekend!

2008-07-18T09:48:00.001-05:00

I'm painting and laying floor.

Tick and Cookie are loose in the Samhain Cafe. You can win print copies of His Ordinary Life if you go hang out and chat.

A Post About Nothing

2008-07-16T10:14:00.000-05:00

Images from St. Augustine -- A white peacock from the Fountain of Youth. The attraction itself is a little hokey (although the planetarium is so worth it), but the fourteen acres of grounds are fabulous. I have a whole series of photos of Monster #2 getting up close and personal with this peacock. The fun part was the squirrels. There are coin-operated peanut dispensers near the gift shop. When you turn the crank, the squirrels come running. Tons of squirrels. Like a squirrel pack! And they will eat out of your hand. The Monsters thought that was fabulous.

I got nothing. Absolutely nothing of interest to talk about today. Author copies of His Ordinary Life showed up yesterday, which was kind of neat. The tub is sitting in the bathroom and we only scratched the new flooring a teensy bit (I refuse to stress over that. It's a house, not a showroom. It won't be perfect forever.). I painted the bedroom ceiling and refinished the headboard. Today, I have to paint the bedroom walls.

I was going to talk about the different sides of quitting, but I'm not coherent enough for it to make sense, so we'll save that for another day.

Keeping Track

2008-07-14T06:51:00.000-05:00

Scenes from St. Augustine -- I should be able to tell you the name of this house, but I can't. It's on the side street which runs off of San Marco and down between the oldest drug store and the new parking garage. I snapped it because I love the feel of it, with the Spanish-style second floor balcony and the dormers and that painted stucco.

I am within about 2K of finishing Fall Into Me. Now, if I could just sit down and go straight through those scenes. But nooooooo. It's not happening like that. That would be too easy.

Mary (MJ) can't believe I posted a countdown to school. I actually need that ticking clock to keep me focused on what needs to happen in July. That would be . . .

1) Clean out Monster #1's closet.

2) Clean out Monster #2's closet.

3) Get my classroom ready (I always do this before preplanning. Preplanning is for, well, planning.)

4) Clear book closet in mobile unit for Connie. (I am so excited about sharing a unit with her!)

5) Write year, semester and unit plans for Brit Lit, Amer. Lit, 9th Writers Workshop, 9th Lit

6) Make August calendars for above classes.

7) Turn in Fall Into Me to Anne the Editor Goddess.

Then there's the renovation TTD list for this week:

1) Paint bedroom ceiling

2) Repair wall under bedroom window (Monster #2 put his knee through my dry wall trying to look out the window)

3) Paint bedroom walls

4) Paint dresser and headboard

5) Prime bedroom floor

6) Install bedroom flooring

7) Stage furniture.

Do you make TTD lists? Or are you a play-by-ear kinda person?

Yes, I'm Talking About the R Word

2008-07-11T09:27:00.000-05:00

Scenes from St. Augustine -- Another shot of the town square. Look how cool and shady it is . . .

Believe it or not, it's been five years this summer since I returned to writing after taking a sabbatical for about a year. Steph has blogged about how she misses the good ol' days of our early blogging, when it was new and fresh and we didn't know who was watching us. Scariest moment of my blogging life? Having an agent show up to comment that I really shouldn't talk about rejections on my blog. They didn't like to see that. Best moment? Having Deidre Knight show up to comment on one of my posts. That was cool.

But the truth is, rejection is hard. It's demoralizing. It's frustrating.

As an admitted control freak, I've learned that one of the hardest facets of being a writer for me is the letting go involved in submitting. However, the letting go is crucial. I can write a great book. I can put it out there. And that's where my control of the situation stops.

In the past five years, my outlook on submitting and rejection has changed. Early on, I took each rejection letter to heart. Doing so chipped away at me. I let it beat me down. However, over time and through some non-writing circumstances, I changed and that, to paraphrase Frost, has made all the difference. The rejections still sting. Sometimes they make me crazy.

But.

My new attitude is this -- I can write a great book. I can submit it when it's requested. And I can let it go. At the time it goes in the mail, I've done everything I can do. At that point, it's a fifty-fifty shot and the outcome depends on the person on the receiving end. She (or he) will either like it or not. If I get a rejection, I can roll with that. That means pick it up, write something new, start all over again.

Recently I was cleaning out the office so we could complete the renovations in that room. In my old desk was the folder full of rejection letters. I considered throwing them out. I ended up carting them to school. Why? They're going on my wall as a montage, with a headline on them that will say something like "you don't lose until you quit." I think. I'm still thinking through that part. If you have suggestions, I'm open!

Thirteen Things to Relish About Summer

2008-07-10T09:34:00.002-05:00

Scenes from St. Augustine -- The town square. And yes, that lush St. Augustine grass feels just as fabulous on bare feet as it looks.

Thirteen things I love about summer:

1) Not having a schedule

2) Staying up late to write

3) Sleeping late

4) Hanging out with the Monsters

5) Going to the lake (which we haven't done this year)

6) The smell of freshly cut grass

7) The way the freshly cut grass smells after a rain

8) Going for ice cream. Just because.

9) The pool (which is green and nasty right now. We're having an impossible time maintaining it this year)

10) Hanging out with my friends (another thing I haven't done much of this summer, since we're all too dang busy)

11) Grilling out.

12) The beach

13) Coffee on the front porch

What are your favorite things about summer?

Book Pimping: Vanessa Jaye's New Release

2008-07-08T12:36:00.002-05:00

I've known Vanessa a looooong time (since all the way back on the eharl boards) and I love her. Anyway . . .

Is available! Go check it out!

I Can See the Finish Line!

2008-07-08T09:09:00.000-05:00

Scenes from St. Augustine -- Flagler College. Is that a gorgeous building or what?

I'm in the last chapter or so of Fall Into Me! Whoo!

Only endings are the hardest parts of anything for me to write. And once it's finished, that means I'm on page one again . . .

Checkpoints

2008-07-03T09:13:00.002-05:00

Scenes from St. Augustine -- The Oldest Drug Store. It has a poltergeist, supposedly the angry spirit of Indian Chief Tolomato (sp?). I know this because we sat in the dark in there one night while we listened to ghost legends. There's a headstone belonging to the chief in the store. Monster #1 knocked on it. I'm like, kid, didn't you see Poltergeist?!

I'm less than 10K from finishing FALL INTO ME (the new title for Troy Lee's book). If I turn it in early, I'm seriously tempted to take a week, maybe two, off from writing. Tempted, but then my brain is thinking . . . you could get a great start on the fall project in two weeks. But I don't want to burn out, either, and I've been writing fast this summer.

I'm officially half way into my graduate degree. I only have five more classes and I will be finished! Well, then there's three years of doctoral work. I think I get a break between this current class and the next one. That would be nice.

What about you? If you write, do you schedule yourself time off or is it all-writing, all-the-time?