Working on the sequel to Behind the Closet Door

I can't wait for spring. Winter is not my favorite time of year but it is a good time to write. I'm almost finished with the sequel to Behind the Closet Door. I'm looking forward to getting that one published. I'm also doing a lot of reading. I have become a fan of Gillian Flynn's books. I also love Hyperbole and a Half and David Sedaris and Jenny Lawson. There are just so many good writers out there. I hope where ever you are, you have a good book to curl up with. If you want to read mine, here's the Amazon link below. Cheers! http://www.amazon.com/Behind-Closet-Door-Shari-Rood-ebook/dp/B00HTBU2GA/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1391702265&sr=8-1&keywords=shari+rood

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.