Excerpt from Through the Cane Fields

As the rain started to pour, one of the servants left the room to close the front door. I could still hear it tapping on the clay tiles and running down the sides of the house. I ate in silence and pondered the significance of all this. Mother eyed me and I smiled and sat up straight. As soon as I could, I asked permission to leave the table and walked upstairs, listing to the sounds of the rain crashing on the roof. I found solace in my little room and I sat by the window for a long time, watching as the lightning strikes illuminated the sky before disappearing and leaving everything darker than it was before.

Excerpt from Behind the Closet Door

He watched the rain in

the halo of the motel street light. Mist was rising off the pavement; the whole place looked spooky, abandoned. There were only a couple of other cars in the lot. He took a long pull on his cigarette and watched the smoke curl out into the night and then disappear. He tossed the butt out into the rain and watched as it bobbed in a puddle of slick, oily water. He braced himself against the cold and thought about going inside but didn’t feel like talking to Loretta if she was awake. There was something inside of him, an itch he couldn’t scratch. It was more than just a longing for adventure or a new place; he’d tried that before. Plenty of places just like Caitland, some better, some worse. There was something in him that wanted to come out and play, something that had been submerged in the dark for too long. He was waiting for something to come along and unleash it, whatever it was and scratch that itch. In the meantime he supposed that Caitland was just as good a place as any, and Loretta was a decent woman. She was kind; she took care of people. She was a giver and he was taker, a perfect match. He’d hang on a little while longer.

My new book, Behind the Closet Door is now available from Amazon, Barnes&Noble and Smashwords. It's winter... Not the best time for me to try and promote anything but hey, it's good to curl up with a book, right? So why not curl up with mine? It's sunny which is kind of important to my state of mind. I can handle most anything when the sun is shining. It's the only thing I have in common with my main character, Henry Peterson which is a good thing. Read the book and you'll see why. Here's an excerpt.

An idea formed in his mind, something about that last piece of the puzzle. He thought he knew how to make the fog lift, the skies brighten again. When he reached his apartment, the rain was coming down harder than ever. He doubted that anyone would hear Michelle, even if she was screaming like a banshee up there. He was already sopping wet, so he took his time pulling out the insulation board and all of the bags. He blipped the car alarm and made his way back to his apartment. As he opened the door, he heard a loud tapping followed by a clawing sound. “Henry, open the door, its dark in here! The light is off, turn the light on. Open the goddamn door!” Henry put down his purchases; he went into the bedroom to change into some dry clothes. “Henry, I can hear you out there, talk to me please.” He noticed a kind of desperation in her voice that hadn’t been there before. He looked at his watch; it had only been a couple of hours. It couldn't be all that bad, he thought. He undressed, piled up his wet clothes on the floor and went into the bathroom. It was dark and smelled vaguely of mold. Michelle had always jokingly called it his dungeon. He turned on the hot water and stepped into the shower. The steam rose up around him and comforted him. He felt raw after the day’s events. He had scratches on his hands and face…and they stung as the wet spray hit him. He stood there for a while, letting the warmth of the water seep into him. After he dried off, he put on a pair of sweatpants and an old sweatshirt. He felt better. It was quiet. Michelle wasn't making any noise at all. He knew he was going to have to say something to her eventually. He wasn't ready yet, though.

Behind the Closet Door

The book is finally out and I'm feeling relieved. It didn't take long for me to jump right back into it though. I'm polishing up the sequel right now. It was freezing last night and everything is dusted with a light coating of snow this morning. We took our minion, Bodie (the mini-schnauzer)on a walk and even he seemed cold. He does this 'snowplow' thing with his nose which is cute. So, I'm posting a picture of the back cover of the new book since I already posted a pic of the front cover the other day. You can get my books at Amazon, Barnes&Noble or from my publisher, wingsepress.com Cheers, Shari

Behind the Closet Door

I have a new book coming out tomorrow! A great way to start the new year. Here's a brief bio about me for anyone interested: I live in Virginia with my husband Roger and my dog Bodie. I enjoy making jewelry, painting and floral arranging. I have traveled in South Africa for over twenty years. I have been writing seriously for several years now. I have a published historical fiction novel called Through the Cane Fields. I am currently writing a sequel to Behind the Closet Door. So, here is a short blurb about the book: Henry Peterson is having a bad week. Trouble at work and the ceaseless rain are starting to get to him. When Henry is jilted by his girlfriend, Michelle, on the night of their anniversary, he overreacts in a way he never dreamed. Her sister Marilyn has always suspected that Henry is not the perfect boyfriend. His excuses are plausible but his manner becomes more erratic. He finds himself doing things he never imagined to keep the girl of his dreams from slipping away from him. Henry’s problems are just beginning when Officer Rex Roland appears at his door. Rex isn’t your ordinary cop. Henry’s descent into darkness helps him recognize a kindred soul. Desperate to keep his twisted reality a secret, he will stop at nothing to keep Michelle right where he wants her. But even Henry can’t predict how deep the descent will be.

I see that I have not posted a blog since 2010. Shameful. A lot has happened since 2010. for Starters, I had my first novel published this spring. That was an amazing experience.

It has been classified as Historical fiction but I think it works as literary fiction as well. Here is a short blurb about the book. Through The Cane Fields is the story of two young sisters living a life of privilege in Apartheid era South Africa. Delia Hallowell is content with her care free, luxurious life until she meets a boy named Thomas. As the son of the cook, Thomas is separated by the divide of class and race. As their friendship grows over time, so does the realization that they cannot be together. We see how both sisters try to navigate their world. Susan is self absorbed and grasping and Delia is kindhearted and intelligent with a thirst for knowledge and a keen desire to be educated and to make something of her life. They both face trials and tribulations as their world changes around them. Delia must make a choice between her true feelings and her family’s expectations. I hope you'll check it out.

Breakfast Sisters

My little sister is five. I was lucky that my Dad found someone great and got remarried and now I have a sister, something I have always wanted. I’ve known her since she was a day old and ever since, she has been my shadow.

When she was a year, I started to babysit her. I got blocks and Leggos and stuffed animals for her and she loved them all. Not having any children of my own, I have enjoyed watching her grow.

Her little personality started to develop early but really started to shine around the age of two. She was already starting to exhibit that strong independent streak that runs through our family but now that she is older, I can see how much tougher she is, than I was at her age. She knows what she wants and knows how to make things happen. She doesn’t throw tantrums or fits but looks at me with her very serious little face and basically gives me a speech on why things should be her way. I imagine she will probably be a lawyer one day, complete with briefcase and sensible shoes.

She is also extremely self conscious about how other people see her. She is a beautiful thing. Lovely doe brown eyes and sandy hair but she doesn’t like to stand out. When I took her to the local pool, she wanted to know why all the other children had water wings instead of the antiquated floatie that she had to wear. I told her that she would have to ask her Mom and she shrugged her shoulders and accepted it.

The next time, she was determined to swim without it. I must say, I did notice a lot of little kids diving in the water and swimming like fish. Her mom and Rog were with us, and there were several life guards at the pool so we watched her practice trying to stay afloat. She would get mad if I tried to help her and even when she got a mouthful of water, she waved away any help. Her independence is so unnerving that I tend to be a bit strict with her. When it’s just the two of us, it’s like fort Knox. I don’t want to be responsible for anything happening and so I am often treated to repeated eye rolling from her when I remind her that she has to hold my hand when we walk near the road. Still, she loves coming to my house. It’s filled with all kinds of cool things and she loves our dog Bodie and loves playing hide and seek in all the rooms and best of all, loves to bounce on our huge bed with all the pillows.

Often, when her mom comes to pick her up she will get angry and say, “Come back later, Mom!” She will sulk and complain about all the things we didn’t get to do. Then the negotiations take place, and usually a little bit of ice cream will do the trick.

One of her favorite things to do, aside from dressing like a princess, is to eat breakfast with me. I rarely see her in the morning, so when I do, it’s a treat. We fix all the things she likes and we sit at the kitchen table, her legs swinging wildly underneath. She eats her English muffin with peanut butter and jam and talks about all the things we are going to do when she is older.

She told me that when she is twenty, she is going to buy a house next to mine so we will be neighbors. That melts my heart and I hope that she won’t resent the fact that we will all be old when she is twenty. That’s the downside of having older parents but the upside, is more attention. It does make me feel melancholy at times though, to think that Dad might not be around when she gets married and has children of her own, but you never know.

One day while eating breakfast, she looked at me and said “We are breakfast sisters.”

I said, “That sounds like a restaurant.”

“Yeah,” she said. “We could sell breakfast stuff.”

“Like pancakes and waffles,” I said.

“Yeah, and English muffins with peanut butter and jam.”

She smiled at this thought and said, “Yes, when I grow up, we can have a restaurant called Breakfast Sisters.”

What a lovely thought. I’ll still be in my fifties then, so who knows? I laughed and said, “Breakfast Sisters, it is. We will make a fortune.”

“Yeah and everyone will want to come in there and eat breakfast with their sisters.”

“Yes, they will.” I said.

So, maybe I don’t have all the answers, I might not know the ABC’s of parenting or being the best sister, but I do know one thing. Never crush their dreams, let them think they can do anything and also, enjoy those moments while you can. They are precious, mercurial things and I am so happy that my little Sister and I can have breakfast together, and talk about restaurants, and ‘My Pretty Ponies’ and ‘Thomas the Tank Engine’ and being neighbors and all the good things in the world now, and all the good things yet to come.

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