What can I say that hasn't been said? I'll melt my brain trying to be original, so I will just be boring old me. (Well, I'm not old, but you get the point). I am a writer of young adult, supernatural fiction with so much education it's ridiculous. I'm a lover of anime, manga, science fiction, fantasy, comic books and tall men. I also like to take long walks on the beach (No, not really, I hate outside). Haha, no really, I'm not your typical gal and one of my dreams is to get a novel out there with my name on it. I've finally finished one, and I'm excited to see where I get with it.

Okay, so I am IN Florida.  My new apartment is nice.  There are some flaws, but I can overlook them.  (Just hope the neighbors don’t start shooting at each other, :D) 

My task now is plan ninja strike of getting the rest of my stuff to my new apartment, and getting furniture.  But hey, I’ve got great news.  I do have bedroom furniture now.  It looks like I will be building my office myself.  I know, yikes, but hey, I got my little pink tool kit and I’ve had a little practice at building book shelves at my old apartment.  So, they had a bit of a gangsta lean, they never fell down :). 

After the office, I’ll think on the living room.  I think I’m going to forgo having a dining area and make that little area my workout space.  I mean, I don’t cook, I don’t have anyone to entertain, and I just don’t eat at the table.  And also, I’ve got a bar, so barstools can work, too.

Anyways, I don’t have internet at my apartment yet, so I jump online when I can.  Right now, I’m in Burger King after dropping The Nicest Friend in the World off at the Ft Lauderdale Int Airport.  Geez… let’s not discuss that GPS made us get on the Florida Turnpike and how much the stinkin’ Turnpike costs.  I am taking I-95 back, thank you GPS.  You owe me 10 bucks, by the way.

Take care guys.  Maybe I’ll have a post about, I don’t know, WRITING (teehee), soon.  I have been itching to write for a few days now.  I always want to write when I can’t it seems.

Okay, so I just realized that I have the best friends ever.  They always want to help me when and if they can, and I always feel like I never do enough in return.  It is weird and nice having people offer to do things for you out of the kindess of their heart.  I just don’t know many people who would put themselves out to help you, when there’s nothing to be gained… and those few people I do know who’d do it, I’m lucky enough to call friends.

So, I’m in the middle of moving to Florida.  My job starts the June 5th, I am driving out on May 31st.  I contracted with a moving company that says, hey yeah, we’ll come get your stuff on the 30th and come between 12 pm and 4 pm.  On the 30th, time comes and goes.  I call them and they say: Oh, we don’t pick up at the end of the month.  Your pick-up date was rescheduled to the 5th, is that okay with you?

WTF????  No, it’s not okay. I will no longer be in Texas on the 5th.  I will be at work on the 5th.  I hired you guys because you said you could pick up before the 1st.  If you had said what you just did now, I would have said: Thank you for your time.  Goodbye. 

The guy I’m talking to gets an attitude and eventually we work it out to where I have to buy an expensive plane ticket to fly back in two weeks on my days off, so that I can let them into my apartment (which I was supposed to completely check out of today, but couldn’t because my stuff is still in there). 

 I say, OK… I have to catch a plane on Monday afternoon to go back to be in time for work. 

The mover says: We can only come on Monday, but we will come at 7:30 am.  

I say: that’s great.  Get the stuff out, then I can clean and check out of my apartment. 

The guys says: Great, I’ll send you e-mail confirmation.

Next day: No e-mail confirmation.  I call and play phone tag for 30 minutes, finally get someone on the phone who tells me, she’ll tell the guy to e-mail me.  Later, no e-mail.  I call to ask if I’m on the schedule even. 

Guy who answers says: Uh yeah. 

I ask: At 7:30? 

Guy: Oh… there’s no time written on here.  Do you need 7:30?  Uh, we can do 8?  Uh… what do you need us to do anyway?

I say: Cancel my entire order.  This is ridiculous.  I don’t even trust you guys to come anymore.  I’ll figure something else out.  Give me my 600 dollar deposit back. 

Guy: Well we have you here as VIP.  We were going to make sure you were first on our delivery and pick up route, but not trusting us and cancelling your order is your perogative. 


Do not use All My Sons Moving Company EVER.

Grrrrrrr….. but hey, remember I got the best friends ever, so I did end up working something out that works much better and may save me a little money… though I’d wished we’d thought of it sooner so I wouldn’t have spend money on that plane ticket back!


Anyways, going to bed.  Gotta be up at 3:45 to finish driving to Florida.  In Alabama, now!


Okay, I think this is absolutely hilarious.  I’ve been noticing the phenoma for a while.  Every afternoon when driving home, I see a bunch of young teenagers, probably about 14, piled 6 deep in a golf cart, just cruising the sidewalks.  I think, hmm… Well, I suppose when you don’t have a car cruising around in a golf cart could be cool if you’re a kid.  So, I pass them and snicker every day.

Well, on Sunday, there was a charity concert near my apartment.  I walked over to check it out and was nearly mowed down by I swear like 20 golf carts containing teenagers.  All of them decked out in their Abercrombie and Hollister with their big sunglasses, hot hair-dos and mp3 speakers going as they sing along to the music and cruised the sidewalks and parking lots surrounding the concert event.

It was like the “in” thing to show off your golf cart.  I was waiting to see one with rims, and I was just gonna go home if I saw one with a Lexus logo.  As it was, I could hardly wait to get home and laugh.

Now, I know good and well if I was 14, I would be flossing a golf cart, too, or riding in one with my friends thinking I looked cool.  But since I’m not…


Don’t ask me how many times I’ve seen it.

Okay, ask.

Twice, and might be going for time number three.  (Hey, I’m not THAT lame, I saw it with different people each time 😀 ).

But you know what, the movie is worth seeing more than once.  Thor is sexy, Captain America is hot, and Tony Stark cracks me up (though not as much as the Hulk when he rag-dolled Loki, HAHAHAHAHAAAA!)


Favorite quote from movie: “Does mother know thou wearest her drapes?”–Tony Stark.



(image borrowed from: http://www.literaturereviewhq.com/avengers-literature-review/)

And okay, I’ll admit it.  I’m a comic nerd, so I actually knew who the Avengers were BEFORE the movies, lol.  😉

Now you know this is late, because I read this book as soon as it came out.  It didn’t end on the cliffhanger City of Fallen Angels did, but wow.  I didn’t see that coming.

I don’t want to spoil the book for anyone who hasn’t read it or isn’t done with it yet, but: WHY-EE, MAGNUS, WHY-EE????


Now I can’t wait for the last one… or for the next in the Infernal Devices series.  Though, they will be the last books in the series, and I don’t know if I’m ready to say goodbye to Jace, Alec, Magnus, Simon, and Jordan yet.  And heck, I know I’m not ready to say goodbye to Jem and Will.


I know there’s gonna be a new spin-off series out with characters I’ll probably like just as much but: WHY-EE, CASSANDRA, WHY-EE???

If anyone reads these series, message me so we can talk!  I love book discussions and I want to know what you think about Magnus and Alec at the end of this last one.


Okay, I suppose I should find some work to do now….

Ok, so this happened in April, but like I said in one of my million posts for today, I have a back log of events, and if I don’t post them all today, who knows when I’ll do it. 😀

Collin County Community College Central Park Campus (yikes, and yes, that is the name of the school) had its first Open Mic alla Eboni hosted by Miss Quiet, an old Southern lady librarian who enforces library policy with an iron cane…er fist.   The library was turned into a coffee house, complete with a staging area and curtains for writers and readers to come up and perform poetry, fiction excerpts, spoken word and the phone book for increments of three minutes.  Violators who went over their allotted time got whooped with Miss Quiet’s cane. (Did she ever have fun whooping violators. :D)

There was free food and drinks (non alcoholic of course 😉 ) and lots of Southern Charm as Miss Quiet explained that though the library was having an Open Mic, it was still a library, and she could only tolerate jigga-boo racket for so long (3 minutes at a time).  She owns the record for most hits in a softball game from 1922, and still has her perfect batter form.

See Miss Quiet whoop a student below:

Y’all know that’s me, right? LOL!

😀 I went to the DFW Writers Conference in Hurst last weekend and had a pitch session with an agent.  Have I ever pitched to an agent before?  No.  Did I try to do a bunch of online research on it before hand?  YES!  Was I frustrated because everyone said to do different stuff?  HELL YEAH.


So… I went back to what one of my writing teachers taught me about doing elevator pitches and coming up with sudden headlines that drive the whole work.  I pitched and halfway through, the agent said: Stop… I love it.  Send me your entire manuscript with the synopsis.  Also, what else are you working on?  Great!  I want the synopsis for that, too.  I like what you write.

Now… that’s based on her never reading a sample of my work, so I hope she still feels the same after she reads it.  But hey!  I’m positive.  Hope it makes her laugh in the right places and hope she’s creeped out when she’s supposed to be.  Yeah, I made up a word, “creeped” lol.  I’m excited!


So… thanks JAMES PATRICK KELLY for torturing us… er… making us do elevator pitches during workshop sessions at Stonecoast.


Okay, there is a myth out there that all authors are avid journal writers.  LIE! Lol.  I never could keep up with a journal, but I am determined to keep up this blog.  I’ve got a back log of stuff to blog about, so here goes!


I got a new job in Florida!  I am going to be the librarian for the Town of Lake Park public library.  I am moving in a week.  I still haven’t packed anything, haven’t had the tires changed in my car, and I have like 5 loads of laundry to do.  I should be stressed out, but I’m not.  I think everything’s gonna work out:


I’m doing the 19.5 hour drive with my really good friend.  (She owes me for riding with her to Baltimore when she moved, hehe… oh, and I think I helped her move to New Orleans, too)


I’ve got a great new apartment.  Two bedrooms, lake view… (though I won’t actually go out to the lake because of the GATORS). I also get to decorate great new apartment (in a few months when I’m not broke anymore, lol).


I actually got movers to come get my big stuff that won’t fit in the car.  (Geez, after a week of trying to get someone on the phone, a moving company finally decided they wanted my money, lol.)


I get to “chunk the deuce” (throw up a “Peace” sign that means I’m out of here) at my old job.  (Haha, free at last!)







Haha, so I got my first rejection e-mail.  Wow, you know a few years ago I think I might have been choked up about it.  My baby was rejected, and with a form letter no less, but hey, the form letter had my name on it!  And they were so quick about it, too.  I sent it off yesterday, no joke, and got the reply today.  I was expecting to wait weeks for that first “No.”  Either the lady really hated it, or I did a major formatting “no-no.” 

Haha, anyway I think that was less nerve wracking than waiting for someone to call you back after a job interview.  Those guys can take forever to tell you “No way!”  This lady took 24 hours… that is, if she even read it.  I kinda think she didn’t because it just came back too fast.

So, now I feel accomplished.  I actually submitted my work to a complete stranger for scrutiny and I’m ready for more.  To rejection, I say: NEXT! 


**Author’s Note: And you’ve found the next chapter!  Yes, so I posted the prologue and Chapter 1 at the same time, but they are both so short I wanted to give you a bigger bite.  I hope you all like where I’m going with this, please let me know!

Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket or any of its characters.

Chapter 1

“I’m walkin’ a wire, feels like a thousand ways I could fall”—Three Doors Down.

Kyo was amazed to not be in the red-headed minority.  He marveled at all of the redheads he passed as he and Yuki trudged to baggage claim.  No one cast more than a glance at his red hair, though a few women did cast lingering looks on his face that trailed to his hips.  He flushed and ducked his head.

“I think those girls are checking you out,” Yuki said, his tone amused.

“They’re probably checking you out,” Kyo grumbled.  He glanced up at sign with a glowing picture of a suitcase and an arrow pointing toward the escalator.  “We need to go that way.”

“No, they’re not looking at me at all,” Yuki said.  “They’re looking at your butt now.  Did you choose those jeans on purpose?”

“What’s the matter with my jeans?” Kyo snapped.  He brushed at the dried grass stains on his knees.

Yuki snickered.  “Maybe they’re a little form-fitting.”
“Tohru loved these jeans,” Kyo said.

“There’s probably a reason why she loved those jeans,” Yuki said and Kyo shot a look back at his grinning cousin.  He looked like a rat that got the cheese.  “Maybe you should wave at them.”

Kyo stumbled.  Yuki caught his elbow.  “Are you okay?” Yuki asked.

Wave at them?  Why would he do that?  “Why would you say that?” Kyo was too stunned to be angry.  He glanced at the women sitting in leather waiting chairs by Gate C.  They sipped soda through straws and wiggled their fingers at Kyo.  He walked faster, head down, and reached the escalator in three large steps.

“Kyo!  I was just joking.  I’m sorry!”  He heard pounding footsteps and the clunk of shoes stepping onto the moving metal stairway behind him.

Kyo didn’t look back at Yuki, staring straight forward as the circular merry-go-rounds of baggage claim came into view.  He stepped onto the tiled floor and followed the signs above each baggage station to the one marked with his flight and gate number.  Suitcases revolved slowly, more coming through a small black curtain every few minutes.  Kyo kept his eyes on the curtain, waiting for his bag.  He turned Tohru’s cell phone back on; then slipped it into his side pocket.  He carried her phone now instead of his own, so that he could hear her voice on the voicemail message.  No calls missed.  He would have to call his grandmother to let her know that his flight had landed.  The plane was on time, and she knew his travel itinerary, so hopefully she was already there or almost there.


Kyo shut his eyes as he felt Yuki close in on him.  “I won’t do that again, all right?”

Kyo shrugged.  “It’s fine.”  It wasn’t.  His stomach twisted as he thought about the women watching him.  Women watched him a lot, and he ignored them.  Tohru always squeezed his hand and giggled in his ear that she was so lucky to be with the guy all the girls wanted.  She was exaggerating, but it had made him feel good, like Tohru was proud to be with him.  He could look at other women and assess them, some were pretty, some were beautiful, but he didn’t need anything from them.  His tiny little Rice Ball was it.

But now that she was gone, and his bed was cold, and there was a big hole in his chest where feeling should have been, when he looked at other women sometimes he felt something stir inside.  It was wrong, that stirring was only for Tohru.  His body was betraying her.  She hadn’t even been gone for six months.

I’m sorry Tohru.  I’m a terrible person.

            Yuki was in motion beside him and Kyo started, seeing his slender cousin pulling two large rolling suitcases off the revolving baggage tracks.  Kyo reached out to take his suitcase from Yuki, staring at the tags: Narita to Houston.   The bag was a light blue with one of Tohru’s pastel yellow and blue scarves knotted around the handle.  Tohru’s neat kanji in black marker over the fabric of the bag’s pocket read: Property of Kyo Sohma.

Yuki’s hand rested on his back, but he didn’t speak and Kyo was glad.  Yuki was good like that.  It was like he could read Kyo’s mind and he just knew when to be quiet.  Kyo stilled the shaking in his hands and took a deep breath.  He did a lot of that, deep breathing, to calm his nerves.  Yuki always knew to give him a few minutes when he did that.

Tohru’s phone vibrated and Kyo fished it back out of his pocket.  A spike of fear lanced through him as he recognized his grandmother’s number on the caller ID.  He’d spoken to her a lot on the phone, but talking on the phone and meeting in person was so different.

Kyo pushed the phone toward Yuki and dragged his suitcase to a bench.  He sat down hard, letting the rolling case fall between his legs.  He put his face in his hands.  Deep breaths.  Breathe.  Because he didn’t always remember to.

This wasn’t a good idea.

This was a mistake

He couldn’t do this.

I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.

            “Kyo?  Mrs. Washington says she’s parking her car in the garage, Section F, Green.  She’s here with her husband and your aunts and uncle.  I told her we’d be down in a little while.”  Yuki sat on the bench next to him.  “She sounds like she can’t wait, but she will if you need it.”

The contents of his stomach rose into Kyo’s throat and he tasted the lemon soda he’d had on the plane.  “Yuki, let’s go back home.”

“No,” Yuki said flatly.  “You said that in the car to the airport, in Narita, on the plane, and each time, I said, ‘No.’ We talked about this; you decided it’s time, so it’s time.  Kyo Sohma is not a coward.”

Kyo met Yuki’s dark purple eyes.  Breathe.  Breathe.  “You don’t know what Kyo Sohma is.” Breathe.  Breathe.

“Yes, I do.  He’s the guy who stood by his wife when she was sick, held her in his arms while she was dying, planned her wake and funeral, and continues to make her proud even when she’s not around.”

Kyo rubbed his dry eyes.  He did do that.

“He’s the guy brave enough to be teaching me how to cook.”  Yuki nudged Kyo with his elbow.  “He’s incredible, because I don’t know anyone else who could do what he’s doing right now.”

Breathe.  Breathe.  Breathe.

“I’m so scared.”

“I know,” Yuki said, “but you know what else, Mrs. Washington might be scared, too.  You’re not the only one meeting someone new today.”

“What if I’m not what she expects?” Kyo asked.

“What if she’s not what you expect?” Yuki shot back.

“I don’t know what I expect,” Kyo said softly.

“Maybe she doesn’t know either,” Yuki said.  “But you’ll never know if we don’t go outside.  Hey, we’re in America.  If we don’t like her, we’ll just have our own vacation.  Remember?  We talked about this. Do you…”  Yuki glanced at his hands for a second; then continued, “Do you want to take a pill?”

Kyo cringed.  Sedatives.  Six months had passed, and sometimes, he still needed a pill to sleep or calm down.  His insides writhed; he was probably going to throw up later, but no, he did not want a pill.  He shook his head.

“Okay,” Yuki said.  “Do you want to go to the bathroom?”

Are you going to spew?  Yuki didn’t have to ask it aloud.

“Maybe,” Kyo said.  They sat, Kyo trying to relax and Yuki practicing his pronunciation of the name “Washington.”  Kyo’s Grandmother Miki had married an American after splitting from Kyo’s grandfather.  The aunts and uncle he’d be meeting were his mother’s half siblings: Aunt Megumi, Aunt Noriko, and Uncle Eiji, who went by the nicknames: Meg, Nori and EJ.

“How does this sound Kyo, ‘Washington’,” Yuki said, exaggerating the syllables.

“You sound like a foreigner who can’t speak English,” Kyo said, letting a small grin creep onto his lips.  “Washington,” he said cleanly and Yuki glared at him; then rolled his eyes.

“You ready?”

Kyo sighed and ran his fingers over Tohru’s scarf.  You with me, Rice Ball?

His heart shuddered at the silence.


“Yeah, I guess I have to be.”

Yuki rose first, helping Kyo to his feet.  Kyo grabbed the handle of the suitcase and followed Yuki’s lead as he read the signs that would take them to the parking garage.  The silk of the scarf was soft and warm under Kyo’s fingers, like rubbing his palm over a smooth cheek.

They exited the air-conditioned airport and stepped onto a musty elevator that dropped them down toward the parking garage.  The numbers above the doors blinked as the car dipped from the 2nd floor, to the 1st, to ground level.  It chimed when it stopped, and the doors opened.

The night was hot and humid; the air tainted with the smell of car exhaust.  Kyo heard voices of people moving through the lot and the scraping of suitcases being dragged across pavement.  He moved like a robot, swinging his legs forward as Yuki walked, looking for the color green and the English letter “F”.

“Kyo?” A woman’s voice called.  He knew that voice.  His head jerked to one side, and he released the handle of his suitcase.  The bag hit the ground with a muffled thump.  Yuki turned to look at Kyo, then at the approaching woman.  Several more people were behind her, but Kyo only had eyes for her.

She sounded like… she looked like… but it couldn’t be….


-Three Doors Down.  “Ticket to Heaven.”  Away From the Sun.  Universal Records, 2002.

**Author’s Note: So what’s the verdict?  Like it?  Hate it?  Don’t care either way about it?  Any way you liked it let me know.  Please leave a comment!