Sample Sunday - NEW RELEASE

Action/Crime/Thriller


SYNOPSIS

When no one comes to save you...you have to save yourself

Maia Duncan learned "Stranger Danger" and the perils of the internet when she was just 12 years old.  Unfortunately after her captivity and forced participation into the sex trade, it was a lesson she learned too late.

But after six long years when her next assignment was to groom other young girls in the sex trade, Maia knew she had to escape...or die trying.

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EXCERPT

Maia’s heart pounded in her chest as she was being lead to the minivan.  As always, they were taken out in the cover of night, rarely seeing the sunlight or enjoying the fresh air on a spring day.  Her life had become that of a vampire, waiting for the sun to set then sneaking around town like a thief in the night.  It had been so long since Maia had seen daylight, she was certain she’d go blind from its brilliance.

Maia stood in the line behind the other girls as they waited to climb into the minivan.  She shivered from the chill in the air, though she was sure most of the chill she felt was from the trepidation she felt about what she had planned for tonight.  If she isn’t careful and is caught in her scheme, she knew her life would be forfeit.  And though she wasn’t ready to die without giving her idea for freedom a chance, she couldn’t help but feel the cold hands of fear grip her soul.

When the last girl climbed into the awaiting minivan, Maia began to climb in behind her.  As she lifted her leg to ascend the step, she was yanked back violently by the hair.  “You follow me, girl,” Drago said between clenched teeth.

“Ow.  What are you doing?” Maia cried out as she was being pulled towards the docks, her body was being half-dragged as she fought to keep up the pace set by the brute escorting her towards the darkened area.

“Shut up!  I’m gonna to give you a glimpse into your future,” Drago let out a short bark of laughter.  “Whatever you have planned, this should put a stop to it.”

Maia’s heels pounded on the wooden board as she trotted to keep up with Drago before he pulled a chunk of her hair from her head.  Her breath came out in short pants as the fear began to mount inside her.  No matter what, Drago was a cruel and violent man and whatever he had planned for her was not going to be pleasant.  In all the years she’s known him, he’d managed to put a fear inside her that would only be outdone by the next deed.

Drago continued to drag Maia through a confusing maze of buildings and alleys.  The skittering sounds of rats in the darkness was enough to make Maia want to yell out, but her fear of what was to come outweighed her immediate danger of being eaten alive by rodents.  She was sure what Drago had in store for her would make a rat pit seem like a vacation in paradise.

Drago stopped in front of a building that was known to house the new cargo when they arrived.  Maia could hear the wails and whimpers of the people inside as they were trying to come to terms with their new lot in life.  It was a piteous sound she had grown accustomed to hearing.  Not too long ago it was a sound she had made…but now she learned how to remain silent and take life as it came.  All the years of crying and pleading and the unanswered prayers weren’t enough to bring about the solace she craved.  In the end, she only had the strength of compliance in her heart and body to keep her alive.

Maia looked up at the three-story building.  The windows were covered by boards and appeared unused and abandoned.  But that was just a cover.  It was how all of the buildings on this pier looked.  They were all owned and operated by the same man…Paolo Freitas.  But inside, there were people…women, children, boys, girls…all used for the same purpose.  To make more money for Paolo.

“Go inside!” Drago ordered and shoved Maia so forcefully she nearly fell to her knees.

Maia blinked a few times as she walked into the dimly lit building.  The scurrying sounds of rats seemed more profound in this enclosed quarters.  She pressed down on her lips tightly as she attempted to prevent herself from crying out in distress.  Her steps slowed as her feet touched something on the ground in front of her, but Drago didn’t seem to care and gave her another shove forward.

“Move it!” he barked out.

The anger in his voice made her feet pick up the pace.  To where, she didn’t know.  She only did what she was told.  Afraid to go forward…afraid to stop.  The wailing sounds of young children on the other side of the doors made her wish she could do something…anything to help, but at the moment, she was not in a position to help herself.  For all she knew, she was walking her last mile to her execution.

Funny, she imagined herself fighting ‘til her last breath, yet here she was walking to an unknown destination for an unknown purpose, like a sheep being lead to slaughter.  If it came down to her life, would she fight or would she pray and ask God to accept her wretched soul into Heaven?  Do I deserve to go to Heaven?  Would hell be similar or worse than the last six years of my life?

“Here.  Open the door,” Drago’s voice growled behind her.

Maia didn’t question him.  She reached for the knob and turned.  The room was smaller than the one she shared with Becca and China.  It was bare except for a pallet that was made in the corner of the room by the clothes on their backs.  One little girl lay sleeping on it as the other three girls…approximately 13 to 15 years in age, remained huddled on the other side of the room.

The room was lit by a single, low watt bulb in the center of the ceiling and the shadows that were cast off the walls appeared like demons waiting to collect the souls of the damned.

“Choose,” Drago said.

It was a single word command, but it spoke volumes to Maia.  Choose.  “I…I can’t,” Maia’s voice squeaked, showing her fear and her weakness.  She resented her voice for betraying her, but she was frightened.  Not for herself, but for the others.  “What are you going to do?”

This time she looked at Drago.  For the first time she saw the feral expression on his face.  It was a look of a man gone mad.  Maia realized Drago loved what he did, instilling fear in the heart of a defenseless person.  In his pathetic life, this made him strong and bold.  But he was a coward and a bully.  He was pure evil.

Drago pulled the gun he had concealed in his jacket and pointed it to the girl who stood as they entered the room.  One bullet to the head and she slumped on the ground.  The other girls screamed and cowered in the corner, but to no avail.  They too will meet the same fate.

“Choose!” Drago demanded.  This time he pointed his gun at the sleeping form on the pallet.  Maia was certain she was no older than 5 or 6…the same age as China when she had come to these shores.

“No!  Please, don’t.  I’ll choose,” Maia pleaded.

Drago pulled the gun back and waited for Maia to make a choice.  “Well, I don’t have all night.”

“I…I choose the child, the one who’s sleeping.”  She squeezed her eyes shut as she knew what this meant.  Drago was going to execute the other girls right in front of her, leaving her to forever remember their lives were in her hands and she failed them.  She did not want to watch…she couldn’t.

“Ah…so you have a soft spot, huh?” Drago teased.  He aimed his gun at the girls cowering in the corner and pointed his barrel at one.  “Come!”

The young girl was clearly traumatized and her knees shook as she made her way over to Drago.  She looked imploringly at Maia, but Maia turned her eyes, ashamed of what she’d done and afraid of what she’d see in the other girl’s expression.

The gun went off with another loud bang that echoed through the small room and reverberated straight through Maia’s heart.  But she didn’t look.  She had seen enough dead girls in her lifetime and she did not want to see another.  Still, she knew she would forever dream about this night.  Much like she did the other nights that haunted her dreams.

Another shot rang out…another thud landed on the floor where the doomed girl stood.  Maia let out a small yelp of surprise at the noise.  She knew it was coming, but it still made her startle with helplessness for being unable to stop it.  It was the sound of a life being taken.  For the second time in her life, Maia felt the blood of another person’s life on her hands.

The blast of shots ringing out in the silence woke the sleeping child.  She sat up and wiped her eyes and began to wail as she found herself in a strange place with strange people and death surrounding her.  Maia was sure she wasn’t old enough to understand what was happening, but she knew she was frightened.  Who wouldn’t be?  It was all Maia could do not to wet her own pants at the moment.

Maia rushed to the startled child and scooped her up in her arms.  She tried to quiet her down, but her attempts only made matters worse.  “Shh…don’t cry.  It’s going to be alright,” Maia said in a soft, motherly tone.  She knew the tiny, little girl didn’t understand her words, but she hoped she was familiar with her tone.  The tone of a mother’s love.

Drago took two long strides over to Maia and the crying child and placed the muzzle of his gun to her small head.  The gesture brought out an instinct in Maia she didn’t know she possessed.  Maia twisted her body in such a way she was protecting the child with her own body, but the gun was now pointing at her.  But she didn’t care.  If he killed her right now, she would not be here to witness him kill this poor, innocent child.  She would never be able to live with herself if he did.  In her heart, she knew she would fight until he was forced to kill her, too.

Drago looked at Maia for a long moment, his jaw clenching in a rhythm that showed his discontent.  His finger itched to pull the trigger.  Maia could sense his taste for blood as he bit down on his tongue to resist the overwhelming urge to shoot.  His eyes grew dark and empty, hatred marred his ugly features.  Then he did the unthinkable…he pulled the gun back and put it back in his holster beneath his jacket and shoved Maia and her sobbing bundle forward and out of the room.

MORE BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR

The Gift of Joy - Contemporary Romance

Second Chances - Contemporary Romance/Suspense

The Nation's Daughter - Crime/Legal/Thriller

#Sample Sunday - INTO THIN AIR

COMING SOON TO AN eBOOK STORE NEAR YOU!

Unedited Version

Prologue

 This was Maia Duncan’s favorite time of day.  This was the short thirty minutes she had to herself to be whomever she chose…a pretend world that seemed to be the only safe place a twelve year old girl with low self-esteem could dream up and finally become an equal with her over confident counterparts.  The anonymity of the internet.

Although her parents constantly lavished her with compliments of her blossoming beauty, Maia did not delude herself into believing she had striking, good looks nor did she wish for them. But she did pray one day her unappealing overbite and pimply face would grow into the swan her mother promised she would become someday.

Prtygrl14:  “What are you doing?”

Shygrl12:  “Nothin’ ‘bout 2 start my homework. What ‘bout you?”

Prtygrl14:  “Nuttin’ much. I’m tryin on sum nu clothes 4 an audition.”

This revelation brought a twinge of envy to Maia’s heart.  Not that she wasn’t happy for her friend, but she couldn’t help but feel jealous of someone with the confidence and spirit as Pamela, her new friend she’s come to know as Pretty Girl 14.

Shygrl12:  “What kinda audition? Ooh, don’t tell me you get 2 model on a runway, I’d just die with envy.”

Prtygrl14:  “LMAO! I wish! No, but I do get 2 model some pretty cool bathing suits & clothes. Some I get 2 keep.”

After Maia’s parent’s divorce she could only dream of new clothes.  Her father wasn’t as generous with the child support, so Maia had to wear hand-me-downs from family members or church member’s children who no longer had a use for their old clothes.  Just the thought of having a new outfit was enough to make Maia drool.  A coy smile played on her lips as she got lost in the notion for a brief moment.

Prtygrl14:  “Hey ya still there?”

Shygrl12:  “Yea, just dreaming about some nu clothes. U’re so lucky.”

Prtygrl14:  “I’m not lucky, it’s easy. All u hav 2 do is take a few pics & they pay u. It only takes a couple hrs for ea photo shoot. U shud try it.”

Maia looked at her reflection in the computer screen.  She was not pleased with what looked back at her.  In her mind, she was not the budding flower that would blossom into the beautiful rose her mother would promise each day.  What she saw was a dark mop of hair that could not be tamed, pimples that covered her cheeks and forehead that resembled a crater catastrophe and features that were too harsh to be considered feminine…thanks to her father’s dominating features.

Maia let out a piteous sigh.

Shygrl12:  “I’ll leave the modeling 2 u. I’m not born w/looks…brains maybe LMBO”

Prtygrl14:  “U don’t give urself enuf credit. There’s nuttin a lil makeup can’t fix. Trust me, I kno.”

Shygrl12:  “Only beautiful ppl say things like that. Girls like me kno better. I need more than makeup to fix all of my problems.”

Prtygrl14:  “Do u have a webcam?”

Shygrl12:  “No. My mom says I’m not old enuf 2 b responsible w/that kinda technology. I think it’s bcuz she’s 2 cheap.”

Prtygrl14:  “If u were a model u cud make ur own money & buy ur own things. That’s what I did. I have all the cool gadgets now…my mom said we were poor, but I think she was just being cheap 2.”

Shygrl12:  “I kno what u mean. They just don’t understand what teenagers need to b cool these days. They nvr had internet or needed a cell phone. I wish I did have my own money so I cud buy myself all of the nice things other kids have.”

Prtygrl14:  “Well, the guy that takes my pics is pretty cool. Mayb he will let u take a few pics and pay u. Ur mother won’t have 2 kno. It’s not like she’ll b browsing thru teen magazines Haha!”

Maia could feel the yearning at the pit of her belly, but with that came all of the warning bells and whistles her mother planted in her head to make her afraid to do something as daring as defy her when it came to internet safety.  Still, her mother didn’t know what it was like to be a teenager in this time...how other kids teased her for not having the latest or nicest things.

Besides, she and Pamela had been chatting for over a month and she was nice.  She was another teenager just like herself, with a mother who didn’t understand what it was like to be teased for being poor.  Yet, Pamela had done something about it.  Something Maia wished she was brave enough to do herself.

Again, Maia got caught up in her daydream about new clothes and shoes and maybe a few new gadgets…like a cell phone or a webcam so she and Pamela could see each other and talk instead of typing all the time.  That would be so freaking awesome, Maia thought to herself.

Shygrl12:  “Wudn’t he need a parent’s sig 2 take pics?”

Prtygrl14:  “No! I take pics all the time. My mom nvr knows where I get my money. I tell her I save up my allowance.  LMAO…she’s so lame.”

Shygrl12:  “I don’t get allowance.”

Prtygrl14:  “Oh, ur mom is cheap! U need 2 think seriously about going 2 one of the auditions. U’d b surprised how easy it is.”

Maia could hear her mother’s keys jingling as she attempted to unlock the front door.  Over the last month, Maia’s keen sense of hearing increased ever since their outburst about Maia’s constant preoccupation with chatting on the internet.  Besides, she was not supposed to even think about getting on the computer until all of her homework was done and she hadn’t even started yet.

Shygrl12:  “My mom’s here…gotta go!”

Prtygrl14:  “Ok, but think about it.  Talk 2moro.”

The screen went black.

Maia raced to the bed and dumped her books out of her backpack and began reading a random book just as her mother walked into her room.  Maia hated that her mother didn’t respect her privacy and would just walk in without knocking.  But that was another argument Maia lost, with the threat of her mother taking the door off the hinges if she ever found the door locked.

It seemed more and more she and her mother were at odds about one thing or another.  One day it’s her internet time…another it’s her privacy.  No matter what Maia seemed to want to do, her mother always found fault.  Nothing she did seemed to be good enough for her mother.  She didn’t even allow Maia to talk about boys…even her favorite boy band was off limits in her mother’s house.

But living with her father was out of the question.  With the contentious divorce between her parents, Maia was lucky if she saw him once a month or during the holidays.  He did everything he could to avoid his ex-wife and Maia was beginning to understand why.  Ever since her mother didn’t have her father around to nag, Maia seemed to be her new target.  There was nothing she could do or say to satisfy her mother and everything became a big fight.  There wasn’t a day Maia didn’t wish she was 18 so she could finally move out and be on her own and make her own decisions.

Brenda Duncan walked into Maia’s room and looked around as if to spy a boy hiding in the corner of the room.  She always had that suspicious appearance ever since she had to entrust Maia to come home alone and become another latch-key kid in a single parent home.  To her mother, it was akin to being an outcast in society…a step away from teen pregnancy, drugs and alcohol…and in no particular order.

As her mother did her surreptitious perusal, Maia continued to pretend she was engrossed in her studies.  But what she was really doing was thinking about how suffocating and untrusting her mother had become since the divorce.

“How was school?” Brenda finally asked when everything was met with her satisfaction. 

Maia could see the physical relief her mother displayed that Maia did not defy her by having anyone in the house when she wasn’t home and she was not on the internet.  “It was okay.”  Maia never looked up from her book.  Lately it was safer to keep her responses to her mother short and sweet.  It seemed the only way to prevent an argument.

“Doing your homework I see,” Brenda remarked, attempting small talk.

But Maia was not buying it.  She was not going to let her mother bait her into conversation.  Before long, she’ll be in a heated discussion about her worthless father or how Maia was not doing well enough in school and her grades were dropping…anything to start a fight to vent her own ineptness.

“Yeah,” was all Maia said in response.

Brenda stared at Maia for a long moment but didn’t say anything else.  Maia knew she wanted to say something, but she didn’t.  Whatever she wanted to say, she kept it to herself and walked out of the room to leave Maia to her own thoughts.  Thoughts about how nice it would be to finally have some of the things in life the other kids in her school had.  How nice it would be not to be talked about because she didn’t have something as simple as a cell phone, even kids younger than she had one.  It was embarrassing, but that was the least of the things that made her feel ashamed of her circumstances.

 ********

Maia played around with her food on her plate as Pamela’s words bounced around in her head.  She almost smiled at the moment she came to the realization she had already decided that she was going to do it.  But her mother’s stern scrutiny prevented her smile from appearing on her face.  Instead Maia remained a blank slate, stoic and unexpressive…a trait she learned from watching her father over the years.

“What are you thinking about?” Brenda finally asked.

Maia knew she would not be able to fool her mother for long, but she knew she wasn’t going to confess the truth either.  So she had thought of a lie earlier she knew her mother would fall for.  Like Pamela had said earlier…mothers are lame.

“I have a friend in school who’s going to give me some of her clothes,” Maia lied.

Brenda had her pride, but it was long hidden by the necessity of survival.  There was a time when she’d reject the charity of another, but after the divorce it was a bitter pill to have to not only ask for, but accept the assistance from strangers.  Maia knew it killed her, but she liked having the same things as other kids her age.  Just because her parents were no longer together didn’t mean she should suffer.

Brenda’s face was suspicious, but she didn’t voice it.  She only asked, “Why would she offer to give you her clothes?”

Maia shrugged as if that simple gesture explained all of her mother’s unanswered questions.

“I’ve never heard you talk about Pamela before.  Is she a new friend?” Brenda asked.

Maia had forgotten how Brenda was when it came to knowing everyone she knew.  Maia had to think quickly if she wanted to avoid another blow-up with her mother and get caught up in her lie.  “She’s new.  She’s only been at the school for a month.”

“Maybe I’ll get to meet this new friend,” Brenda said.  It was the tone she used when she didn’t completely believe what Maia was saying, but came up short of calling her a liar.

“Sure, maybe you’ll see her when you drop me off.  Sometimes she waits for me…but sometimes she’s late so you might not get a chance to meet her,” Maia lied again.

“That’ll be nice.  I like knowing all of the people you know.  Is she nice?” Brenda asked.  It was her subtle way of asking if she talked about boys or sex or anything she didn’t deem appropriate for Maia.

“Yeah.  You’ll like her.  She’s smart and beautiful.  She’s a model,” Maia said before she could stop herself.  She had gotten so caught up in her own lie; she had carried it too far.  Now she was adding more information for her mother question her about.  She wanted to bite her deceitful tongue from her mouth.

“A model, huh?  What type of model?” Brenda asked.

“Um..I don’t know.  Just a model.  She gets clothes from some of her photo shoots and some of them she said she’ll give to me,” Maia said.

Brenda’s lips pressed into a thin line, a gesture she used to prevent the words she felt from spewing from her mouth.  Maia had seen this expression a million times when her mother didn’t want to fight, but the words were just on the tip of her tongue to throw an innocent conversation into a downward spiral which lead to yelling, crying and hurt feelings.

“Maia, please tell me this isn’t one of your friends you’ve met on the internet,” she finally said it.  It was too serious to keep to herself.

Maia let out an audible sigh and dropped her fork in her plate with a loud clank.  “You never trust me.  You always want to find something to fight about.  Now I see why daddy left!”

Brenda leapt from her chair in a shot, her first instinct to slap Maia across the face, but thought better of it…counted to ten and sat back down.  She was not going to be goaded into a fight by a 12 year old when this was serious.  Maia had no idea the predators who stalked young, naïve little girls like herself.  It was her job as her mother to educate and protect her.

“Maia you’re only 12 years old, you have no idea the evil that’s out there in the world waiting for someone like you to prey on,” Brenda said calmly.  “I don’t say these things to fight, I say it because I love you and I want you to be protected and safe.”

“Well, you can’t save me from everything.  When are you going to let me learn things on my own and make my own mistakes?  You’re not always going to be there for me…then what?  You need to trust me to take care of myself and let me grow up,” Maia made an impassioned plea.

Maia loved her mother, but she was feeling smothered by her mother’s love.  All she wanted was to have a chance to do some of the things regular kids did.  What was so wrong with going to the movies once in a while?  What was so terrible talking about boys with her friends?  It wasn’t like she was going to leave with a stranger or have unprotected sex and get pregnant.  She was smarter than that.  Still, she resented the fact that her mother didn’t trust her enough to let her make some of the decisions for herself.  She was growing up, but her mother was treating her like she was still a baby.

“Maia, I know you think that I’m not letting you grow up, but it’s not that.  I don’t want anything to happen to you.  I want you to be safe,” Brenda said.

A lone tear rolled down Maia’s cheek.  She swiped at it with disgust.  She hated to fight with her mother, but she also hated that her mother treated her like a child.  She was growing up and her mother was going to have to get used to it.  “I’m tired of you treating me like a baby.  You don’t let me do anything.  You even try to pick my friends for me.  Give me some credit to pick my own friends.”

Brenda was silenced for the first time in her life.  She had nothing she could say.  Maia was right, but her maternal instincts kept telling her she was doing the right thing, but she remembered being 12 and her and her mother had a similar fight…how she resented her mother for not allowing her the freedom to make decisions on her own.  As a result, it prompted Brenda to rebel at an early age…another fear she held, but refused to face at the moment.

“Alright, I’ll back off a little.  But if I see where you’re not making the right decision or choice in friends, I’m going to reassert my authority…no bones about it,” Brenda said, but conceded that Maia should be allowed to select her own friends.  She could always intervene if needed.

This time Maia did smile.  It was a hard fought, but genuine smile.  The one day Maia decided she would defy her mother, she decides to concede to her demand for more freedom.  Maia should have felt horrible for breaking her mother’s trust by what she was planning, but she was too excited to think about the ramifications.  Anyway, if her mother never found out what would it hurt?

Brenda smiled back at her daughter, finally feeling as though they had reached an agreement…praying she was not going to live to regret this day.  It was a break through, of sorts.  It was a day that was bound to come, but Brenda admittedly was not ready for it to be now.  Secretly she wished she had a few more years before Maia would assert her need for freedom and independence.

********

“Hey!  Don’t forget your backpack,” Brenda yelled through the passenger side window when Maia jumped from the car and ran towards the school.

Maia trotted back and grabbed her backpack from her mother.  She could hardly contain the grin that took over her face since the night before.  After she went to her room last night, she chatted with Pamela for a few minutes…long enough to tell her she was ready to go to the photo shoot with her.  She prayed she would not be embarrassed for being so lacking in the looks department, but somehow Pamela made her feel like she could accomplish anything with a little blush and lipstick.

Deep down, Maia knew this day was going to change her life forever.  And though those warning bells and whistles her mother planted in her head tried to take up residence in her psyche, she ignored it and pushed it to the back of her mind.  She was not going to let this opportunity go by.  Who knows, one day she may become a famous model and have a very interesting story to tell about how it all began…with the friend on the internet.

With that thought Maia let out a short giggle.

“You seem to be in a good mood this morning,” Brenda said.  “I’m glad our little talk last night makes you happy.”

Maia smiled at her mother.  Yeah, mothers are lame, she thought.  If only her mother knew what she was really thinking about she’d be grounded until she was 100.

“I’m glad we had our talk.  You can trust me to take care of myself,” Maia said before she turned to run towards the school and meet up with Pamela in the back of the school as planned.

“Maia!  Don’t forget to come straight home from school.  Your father will be there to pick you up for the weekend,” Brenda yelled to her daughter’s retreating back.

Maia turned and waved to her mother as she drove away and out of sight.

Maia ran to the back of the school to meet Prtygrl14 to start her new life...

This was also the day Maia vanished into thin air...

Copyright © 2010 Valerie Maarten

Sample Sunday featuring Valerie Maarten

THE GIFT OF JOY - EXCERPT

The premise of the story is about a girl who made a wish that has changed her life forever.  Instead of asking for something selfless and noble, like the protection of her mother from a cruel father, she asked for the protection and friendship of a boy who didn't know she existed.

The set-up: Joy is on her way to the mall to pick out the toys for the children of the Battered Women and Children's shelter she runs.  On this fateful day, Gabe finally speaks to her, conjuring all of the painful memories of her childhood and forcing her to relive the selfish wish that caused her to lose her mother.

Joy’s hands trembled as she drove to the mall.  She was still shaken by the fact that, after all these years, Gabe had finally spoken to her.  Well, Joy was no longer that naïve, hurt little girl that cried for days and weeks because a rude little boy refused to acknowledge her in the mall when she was six years old.  She was a woman grown now.  She no longer needed the friendship or protection from that boy she remembered with the warm eyes and gentle, soothing touch to protect her from bullies.  Now she was the protector…of sorts.

There were countless children and women that depended on her.  And she would not let them down.  Which was why she was at the mall.  Although she did not accept…or  receive… Christmas gifts, that did not prevent her from wanting to give.  After all, she could still remember well enough the enjoyment of receiving something special.  She just didn’t believe anymore that your deepest wishes could come true.  But, that did not stop her from pretending that they did…at least with the children in the shelter she ran for battered women and children.

So what if Santa Claus didn’t really exist?  The small children that depended on her would learn that lesson, soon enough.  Until then, she would do everything in her power to ensure that they had a happy and joyous season.

The cheerful sound of holiday music greeted her as she entered the mall.  A tidal wave of memories swept through her, making her shiver inside.  For an instant she was teleported back to a time when she did believe.  Oh, how she wanted to believe that her deepest wish would come true. 

But she had been selfish then.  In a brief moment of self-centeredness, she had only thought of herself…of her own happiness, her own needs and wants.  Not for a moment did she think of anyone else’s happiness or comfort.  My deepest wish could have made a difference.  But what did she wish for?  For the boy across the street, that made her feel safe and happy, to like and protect her.  To want to be her friend.

And three days later, on Christmas day, she had lost the one person she loved most in this world.  I could have saved her.  I should have wished for my mother’s happiness.  Instead, her father killed her mother in a violent rage then was executed for the crime, leaving Joy orphaned and alone.  And Gabe was not there to protect you, she thought to herself.

Joy pushed her way through the crowd of people, shoving her way to the toy store.  The atmosphere in the mall was warm and pleasant, but it was not enough to penetrate through her armor of indifference and cynicism.  She would just pick out the toys that the children put on their wish-list to Santa then be on her way home.  There was no need to browse and linger.  She just wanted to complete her task and be done with it.

The shrill of a little girl having a tantrum got her attention.  She looked over to the North Pole where Santa and Mrs. Claus were stationed to receive their guests.  The little girl had on her best Christmas ensemble, complete with muffs and shiny black shoes, but she was not in the mood to be placed upon Santa’s lap.  She looked terrified, Joy thought.  As well you should be.  He will only fill your head with impossible hopes and dreams only to learn one day that it was a pipedream.  All lies.

Joy watched as her father scooped her into his arms to try to alleviate her fears, soothing away her tears and promising her sweets if she would just let the nice lady…pointing to Mrs. Claus, with the pleasant smile on her face…take a picture for Grandma and Grandpa.  The scene would have made Joy laugh any other time, but now…now she wanted to cry along with the terrified little princess.  Don’t do it.  You will only end up with a broken heart and shattered dreams. 

A subconscious frown played upon Joy’s, otherwise beautiful features, as she witnessed the father gently rock his inconsolable daughter in his arms, shushing her cries.  The realization that, in that moment, what she wanted most in the world was a family of her own to love and the protection of someone that loved her.  The notion was enough to send her reeling back in surprise.

After a little while of coaxing and bribing, the father had managed to convince his daughter that she would be safe with the strange looking man with the snow white hair and the jovial, booming laughter.  She sniffed a couple of times and agreed to do ask her father wished.  Her eyes never left her father’s face, knowing that as long as he was there and she could see him…she was safe.  Safe. That’s what Joy should have wished for.  To feel safe.

She turned to walk away from the touching scene, heading to the toy store to purchase the presents for the children then looked back at Santa Claus one last time. 

He had been watching her…a broad smile playing on his lips.  His cheeks were rosy red and there was a twinkle in his eye.  An honest to God, real twinkle.  He winked at her, his eyes shining brightly before he turned to the camera so Mrs. Claus could snap his photo with his reluctant charge. 

Copyright © 2010 Valerie Maarten

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HAPPY READING...

Sample Sunday featuring McCarty Griffin

Thriller/Suspense Author

Smashwords

Excerpt:

Set up: Pammy has had enough of Bobby, her abusive drunk of a husband. One lovely spring day, she decides to kill him, despite the fact that they will soon be divorced and he will, at least in the eyes of the law, be out of her life for good. Indulging in homicidal daydreams for years has led her to devise her own perfect and completely bizarre plan.

She was beaten down so thoroughly by the fifth year that any thought of college, friends or even just a minimum wage job were faded dreams with no real substance. She felt as if this had always been her existence, haunting the house more than living in it. She dreaded the sound of his tires crunching in the gravel outside the house, forced to walk on eggshells when he was home, never knowing when his blue eyes would suddenly darken, his face go red, and then those fists strike out before she even knew what she had done to anger him.

She eventually gave up trying to figure that out and simply concluded that her very existence enraged him. Just the expression on her face, or the tone of her voice, or even her timid silences seemed to gall him. Once, she mustered the courage to ask him why he stayed married to her if he hated her so much.

He laughed that jackass bray she had come to despise, and said "Hey, my mama's gettin' old and slowed down with the rheumatism. I need someone to cook and clean for me." His eyes raked her up and down, and sneered, "You sure as hell ain't good for nothin' else."

She flinched visibly, and content that he had sliced down to the bone, he turned and strutted out the door, headed for the bar in town to carouse with his work buddies.

If she'd had a weapon close to hand at that moment, she would have killed him right there in the kitchen without a thought for the consequences, before he ever made it out the door. I'm a person, she thought brokenly. I'm a person and I matter. The tears came then and she crouched on the kitchen floor rocking back and forth, sobbing until her eyes and sinuses swelled nearly shut.

Later that night, lying beside him listening to his wet snores, she imagined slipping quietly from bed with her pillow in hand. She pictured herself silently and oh-so-carefully straddling his unconscious body and quickly pressing the pillow down over that hateful red face before he could wake, pushing down with the entire weight of her thin body until he breathed no more.

The compulsion was so strong, she felt her legs actually give the tiniest twitch as if in an effort to stand and complete the task. She quickly suppressed her limbs into immobility, although not from any slightest concern for Bobby's well-being. Not hardly, as her own mama had been wont to say with her lovely southern drawl. Rather, she had all but come to believe his constant assertions that she was a stupid woman, and figured she was certain to be caught if she ever tried such a foolish thing.

Unless you plan it out, Pammy.

The dispassionate voice spoke softly, but distinctly from deep within, as if it came from an entirely separate entity. Horrified by the side path her mind had taken, she shoved the notion away from her. She couldn't kill anyone, least of all her husband. She wasn't that kind of person. She wasn't a monster, even if he was. She couldn't, wouldn't let him drag her down to his level. She repeated these thoughts to herself over and over again until they had become a soothing mantra which eventually lulled her into an uneasy slumber.

The next morning, while trudging through her morning routine of making Bobby his coffee, frying him up a quick breakfast and packing his lunch, and before putting a load of his dirty clothes in to wash, she determinedly kept her mind on exactly what she was doing at that moment, never giving her thoughts a chance to go there. For a while, a very little while, it worked, but, she could admit to herself now, the idea never completely faded from her consciousness. It merely slunk reluctantly off to a dark corner of her mind, its tail humbly dragging, but its black eyes still glittering with malicious life.

With increasing frequency, her thoughts seemed naturally to drift into the gloom of that far corner, until lying awake while her husband slept, envisioning all the methods she might use to free herself from him, became a nightly ritual.

The fantasy inexorably evolved over the years, growing more elaborate with the passage of time. Not until the day he tried to bully her out of her share of their tax return did she cross that mental line she had drawn so long ago. Had he turned and left before he moved in just that mere half-inch closer, maybe that Other Pammy, enraged and vengeful and unafraid, would never have awakened.

"Really, Bobby," she said aloud, her eyes distant and icy calm, "you brought this on yourself."  

Review by: Jennifer Shaw on Mar. 08, 2011 :

"I'm gonna fix you, Bobby Hilts! Just you see if I don't." (pg.15)

This particular line from Half-Inch sets you up for the enthralling pages you will become immersed in. Pammy is a woman on the edge; she may just take a leap that many wouldn’t dare to even attempt. I found myself glued to every word and thought Pammy had or felt as if this was a true life situation. In fact, is feels as though the plot was pulled from a nightly news broadcast. As a lover of horror and crime dramas, this is right up my alley and I would love, yes, love to see this amazing short story become a full length novel. In 67 pages, I was truly amazed at the quality, depth, and extreme emotion it contained. If you haven’t had a chance to read this fabulous story, you should.

Tags

blood, murder, revenge, west virginia, kill

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Smashwords

Excerpt:

 Set up: Christy McCauley has returned to West Virginia at last, but her homecoming quickly turns into a surreal nightmare. In the deep hollows and woods of rural Augusta County, something unspeakable is slaughtering people in the dark of night. Authorities don't know if its human or animal, or how to stop it. Christy and her friends only know they must hunt it and destroy it, before it kills again.

Christy started awake. She winced at her stiff neck and attempted to stretch. Graeme had fallen to one side, resting the full weight of his left side on her body. Trying not to wake him, she shifted her right leg, which had gone numb from her awkward sleeping position.

She wondered what the time was. The moon, tinting the night sky a milky yellow-blue, had glided from the horizon to the sky above their heads. The Blazer’s cab was too dark to see her watch, but to switch on the interior light, she would have to shift Graeme. She tried gently sliding from beneath him to avoid waking him, but he immediately opened his eyes.  

“What time is it?” Groaning, he struggled to an upright position. “Oh, my aching back.”

“Wait a minute. I can’t see my watch.” She switched on the interior light, squinting against the sudden glare. “Eleven. We’ve only slept a few hours.”

She felt disappointed more time hadn’t passed. Morning was still hours away. She began to drowse off again in the truck’s warm cab, despite the dome light’s glare. Graeme’s eyes seemed to be drooping closed again, too. Her head had begun to nod forward onto her chest, when he suddenly stiffened and grabbed her by the forearm. He dug his fingers in painfully and she instantly awoke. 

“Turn off the light!” he breathed. 

“What? Why? What’s wrong?”

“Just do it! I think I heard something.”

Alarmed, but not sure why, she nevertheless quickly switched off the light and scanned the area outside the truck. They sat listening apprehensively as the muffled night sounds from the surrounding woods gradually ebbed into an eerie, heavy silence.

Then, she heard something off to the right, creeping stealthily through the brush. As she listened, she became aware that something was working its way closer to them, while remaining concealed behind the trees. The sound of its movement seemed too big for a deer. Maybe it was several deer? Or a bear? Or whatever had killed those teens by the lake? her panicked brain shouted.

Her heart pounding, she reached for the keys in the ignition and the Blazer roared to life. Throwing the vehicle into reverse, she floored the gas pedal and switched on the headlights, which revealed the thing in the road. 

Graeme screamed.  “Christy, drive! Oh, fuck, what is it?”

Framed against the trees, the creature stood at least seven feet tall, with eyes that burned redly at them from deeply furrowed sockets. The shaggy arm it threw up to shield its eyes was tipped with impossibly long, curved claws. Momentarily blinded by the high beams, it let loose a full-throated, enraged bellow. Dagger-like teeth shone in the headlights as it threw back its massive head and shrieked at the retreating Blazer. 

Review by: Crescent Suns e-Books on Mar. 03, 2011 :

McCarty Griffin proves with Monster Story that she not only understands what monsters are all about, but that she can take her knowledge and turn it into the best werewolf story ever placed on the market. Move over Lon Chaney. Take a hike you Twilight wannabes. McCarty Griffin is the new alpha in the werewolf pack and she has the story to prove it.  For a more in-depth review on this book visit: http://crescentsunspublishing.blogspot.com/2011/02/monster-lives-among-us.html

Tags

blood, death, werewolf, monster, west virginia, full moon, hunt and kill

To learn more about the Author, you can visit her at:  http://www.McCartyGriffinBooksOnline.com

SAMPLE SUNDAY featuring Liz Borino

EXPECTATIONS by Liz Borino

Blurb: EXPECTATIONS depicts the struggle between what we desire for ourselves and our familial obligations. The struggle is personified by Chris and Matt Taylor, identical twins, who are trying to win their overbearing father’s approval and acquire their trust funds. Love, money, and desire collide as Matt and Chris decide what’s really important to them.

Chapter 1
“Ok, guys, that’s it. We’re all moved in!”  Matt said after putting the last of the dishes away in the cabinet of their newly acquired Village loft in New York City.

“This is historic, the first time we’re not sharing a room, Matt.” Chris regarded his twin brother with a smile. “Come here, Aiden. Let’s take our first roommate picture.”

“We took plenty of pictures when we lived in our suite in the dorm.” Aiden said, with a sigh. He really didn’t have time for this crap, but the look on Chris’s face convinced him to smile. The enthusiasm that guy mustered for any kind of new experience was to be admired.

“Yeah, but this is our place! I mean if we don’t pay the bills they won’t get paid!” Chris said.

“Trust me, Chris, there’s nothing exciting about paying bills. I’ve been doing it since I was 17.” Aiden told him after getting a bottle of water from the fridge. “Ok, I’m out.” He grabbed his duffle bag.

“What the fuck, man? We just got in! Sit down and have a beer with us.” Matt called but Aiden was halfway out the door.

“Can’t, dude, got class.”  Aiden called back.

“Aiden, newsflash! We graduated, twice!” Chris said with a laugh, but Aiden just waved him off.

Aiden knew they graduated. He also knew he could be living alone. He’d been building his business since he started at NYU seven years ago and it’s become quite successful. But his friends didn’t need to know that. As a matter of fact, because Aiden had his business under his birth name, Desmond Cain, there was no reason for his roommates to ever find out what he did. He took a deep breath as he opened the door to his dance studio. He turned on all the lights and smiled at the mirrored wall with a bronze bar attached to it. Checking his watch, he smiled at t the realization that he had perfect timing. His students wouldn’t be coming for another 15 minutes, which gave him plenty of time to get changed and warm up.

Aiden took off his jeans and replaced them with shorts over the standard leggings, after tying his hair in a ponytail. Then, set the CD player up and played the first track. No lyrics, but the violin and piano flowed through his body as he stretched his legs and his torso. He always began sessions with yoga. The movements aided in eliminating outside distractions, allowing for the dance to overtake his body. For Aiden the art of dance was something that was better than anything else in his life. For a brief time he could become one with the music, no other feeling was as freeing.

Aiden smiled when his students began to file in. Very few things made him happier than his enthusiastic class. When the room was filled he turned and beamed. “Good evening, everyone.
Shall we begin?”

************

“So, what do you think he does?” Chris asked Matt as they got back from the grocery store.

“Huh?”

“Aiden, what do you think he does? We’ve known him 7 years and he never told us.”

“If he wanted us to know he’d tell us. I’m sure it’s legal and he pays his part of the rent, so honestly I don’t care.” Matt answered distractedly. He was currently caring more about what he would be drinking between now and dinner then what his third roommate did for a living. There had to alcohol in here somewhere. He thought.

“Aren’t you curious, dude?” Chris persisted.

“No, I’m pretty good at minding my own business. Seriously, Chris, let him alone.” Matt shook his head. They were both just under 6 feet with light brown hair, blue eyes and sported a muscular build. Though they were identical, once you got to know them it wasn’t difficult to tell them apart. Matt was much more practical where his brother had an artistic flair about him.
Though different, they were best friends. Freshman year at NYU they came from California to experience something different for a few years.

Neither one had any intention of staying past earning their Bachelor’s Degrees, but they fell in love with the city. So, after completing grad school they decided to stay and get a loft with their friend, Aiden. At first, Matt was planning on going home to work in his father’s marketing company when he graduated, but the truth was he didn’t like being away from Chris for long periods of time. It just felt like there was a part of them missing without the other.

Chris walked quietly upstairs to his room and started decorating with photographs he took at various concerts and through his travels. His favorite was a snapshot of the setting sun over the ocean in Australia he was able to capture the waves crashing which created the illusion of shooting the reds and oranges throughout the sky.

“That’s incredible, Chris.” Aiden said from his doorway causing him to jump. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, you’re fine.” Chris said surveying Aiden who seemed perfectly relaxed, but excited at the same time. His green eyes blazed with a secret.

Aiden looked from Chris to the picture taking in the beauty of ricocheting colors.

“You’ve never been, right?” Chris asked.

“Never got that far. We didn’t have the money to really travel when I was growing up.” Aiden answered, then suddenly stopped and looked away. He rarely talked about anything that happened before he came to college at 17.

“You must miss it.” Chris said quietly.

Aiden shook his head and answered just as quietly. “We all make our choices in life. I always knew I wanted to come here as soon as I could. So I did. You really can’t expect to have it all.” There was no regret, or longing, in his voice just acceptance. Aiden had made a choice, a choice to pursue dance and live where no one knew him. His father had told him that if he left the farm he would never be allowed back. So, at 16 he applied for citizenship and got his GED. By 17, a time when his friends were starting their senior year of high school, he was moving into the dorms at NYU on a full scholarship and renting his dance studio, which he bought a year later. “You hungry?”

“Sure, let’s get some pizza in Little Italy.” Chris said. Aiden always did this whenever the subject turned to the past. Though Aiden was easily the best friend Chris made at college there always seemed to be something about him he couldn’t figure out.

The three of them went to Little Italy to split a pizza, at the place they went 3 months ago when they decided to get their loft together. “I gotta say I’m going to miss organized sports at school.” Matt said as he chugged a beer and motioned for another.

“Join a city team. There’re tons of them.” Aiden remarked off-handedly, for the first time noticing how much Matt drank. He was far from drunk, but Aiden didn’t remember him consuming this much alcohol in school. He tried not to make his concern known, but the thoughts of overconsumption made his pulse race.

After a few moments, Matt asked, “Anyone wanna go out? I feel like picking up a woman or two.”

“Don’t you work tomorrow?” Chris asked his brother, which Aiden was happy about since it saved him from doing it.

“Who are you, Dad? I’ve never been late and want to take full advantage of having my own room ASAP.” Matt looked at the check and put down $10 for his share of the bill. “So, anyone coming?”

“I’m good. I think I’d rather just lay low tonight.” Chris said and they looked at Aiden.

“No, Matt, you have fun. Call one of the guys from the office if you need a wingman.” Aiden said, although no one actually expected him to accept the invitation.

“I don’t need a wingman, dude!” Matt laughed. “Don’t wait up.” He said as he left the restaurant.

Aiden and Chris walked in silence back to the loft, or rather, they walked in as much silence as was ever offered in New York City. Aiden enjoyed not talking and just taking in the sights and the sounds of the bustling street. They passed a man and a woman kissing on the street and Chris broke the silence. “So, no girlfriend, right?”

“Nope, no girlfriend.” Aiden confirmed without looking at Chris, wishing they could go back to the silence, but realizing that wouldn’t happen.

“Ever?”

“Sure, just not right now.” Aiden glanced over at him. “No one for you either, right?” He asked deciding to play along.

“I’m not big on commitment, especially after Ally.” Chris dated Ally for most of undergrad, but they broke up when she moved to Chicago.

“You’re planning letting one woman ruin you for life?”

“No, I’m just not giving my heart up that easily anymore. Not that you’re one to talk or anything.” Chris said as he stopped and faced his friend.

Aiden looked into Washington Square Park for a long moment. Night was falling late, which was to be expected in May. It was close to 8:00 and there was still some light streaming through. “You know how you’re not big on commitment? Well, I’m not big on complications. Girlfriends, they tend to bring a lot of that.” They ask too many questions, Aiden said silently. He could only hope that Chris would pick up on this desire for privacy. Chris and Matt were always pretty good at not pushing subjects, but Aiden got the impression Chris wanted to dig deeper. Chris took out his camera and pointed it into the trees. At first, Aiden couldn’t imagine what he was trying to capture. Until Chris showed him the leaves ignited with color and dancing across the screen. “You find beauty everywhere, don’t you?”

“I try, but let’s be real here, leaves aren’t nearly as beautiful as human connection.”

Aiden looked at his friend and inwardly groaned. “What are you getting at?”

“I feel like you’re hiding something.”

“I am.” He confirmed. “You don’t need to know everything.”

Though common sense told him to drop it, Chris pressed on. “What are you so afraid of?”

“We all have our secrets. I’m not afraid of anything.” Aiden said as he walked away.

“What’s the point of secrets?” Chris asked catching up as Aiden sped up toward their loft.

“The point of secrets is to not give people a fucking reason to reject you. Not everyone’s life is tied up nicely with a trust fund to fall back on.” Aiden exploded as he ran into the loft and up to his room, slamming his door. As hot tears rolled down his face, he chided himself for losing control. No excuse for that. Aiden laid alone with his thoughts, barely tuned out by the music playing through his headphones.

Chris lay on his bed across the hall from Aiden wondering what he had to hide. Everyone had their secrets. He had secrets of his own. As for Aiden, he had a beauty a photograph could not contain. The realization shook his own reality. He knew receiving his trust fund was dependent on marrying and having a son. His feelings for Aiden would not help him accomplish that.

************

Matt was a mere 10 city blocks away at Black, a new night club, but he could’ve been across the country for the lack of parallel between his activities and his roommates’. While they were at home engaging in self exploration regarding their feelings, he was trying his damndest not to feel anything at all. He gazed around the crowded scene. Blondes, brunettes, red heads…he liked red heads. Really, after three or four drinks he liked them all.  The stronger the drinks, the less picky he became.

Maybe, he would be a little pickier if he weren’t alone, but he was alone tonight because Chris wanted to lay low. Matt thought downing a beer, feeling as bitter as it tasted. No, I’m not angry at him. I just can’t ‘lay low’ without my head going into overdrive and that’s dangerous. So, he drank faster. Drinking was an acceptable solution to the horror of the office. Quitting was not. A trust fund of fifty million dollars, if he did exactly what he was supposed to do. Worth it, right?

He looked over at the blonde to his right, obvious dye job. Must not have gotten enough attention as a brunette. He, not so discreetly, looked her over again, calculating how much it would cost him to get an invite back to her place. Everyone was here for the same game. I’m not any different than the next guy. Matt reasoned with himself as he checked his wallet.
Condoms? Check. Cash? Also check. Maybe his night wouldn’t be so lonely after all.

Semi-blonde girl smiled and sat next to him. “Hi, I’m Mandy.”

“Matt.” He responded, returning her smile. “Drink?” Not being sober, he decided to limit his words.

“At my apartment, we have better selection and prices. Why don’t we just cut to the chase and go there?”

Matt looked up and blinked in surprise.

“What? We’re all here for the same reason and I’m sure you have an important day job, if not a wife and kids.” He watched her get up and tug on his sleeve “You coming, or not?”

Matt wasn’t sure he enjoyed her taking the lead, but he found himself following her all the same. She was getting prettier the longer he looked at her, or his gin and tonic was setting in.

“So, Matt, tell me, what is your day job?”

At the question, Matt bent down and started throwing up into what he hoped was a bush and not some homeless guy’s box. Mandy didn’t stick around. He didn’t blame her.

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