In Which I Humiliate Myself

Since you all seem to like me, I decided that should change.

How am I going to go about changing that? Well, I’m going to post a lot of random excerpts from books I wrote … years ago.

For this, I have to go here:

screenone

Yep. The file folder “No Longer in Use.” *lightning, thunder, scary music*

And a peak inside the file folder, as if you weren’t scared (or scarred) enough already:

screentwo

I know. Scary, right?

So, I’m going to click on a random folder and give you an excerpt from one of my works-in-progress. None of these were actually finished. So. Let the games begin.

Continue reading “In Which I Humiliate Myself”

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September 2016 Spotlight ~ IvIn Excerpt and Theme

Spotlights

Well, it’s once-again time for our monthly spotlight! Just in case you need a refresher, here’s the first spotlight post where I explained what a spotlight is, where I got the idea from, etc.

This month I’m going to be sharing a little bit of my novel, Ivy Introspective, which is hopefully coming out sometime in early 2017. I actually only have eight days until I’m either going to finish IvIn and burn my house to the ground.

Don’t you mean “or”?

What’s the difference?

Well, if you don’t say “or,” then … you’re going to burn your house to the ground either way.

Oh. Whatever. “I actually only have eight days until I’m either going to finish IvIn or burn my house to the ground.” Satisfied?

Yes.

Somebody tell me they got the kinda-sorta reference! Please? Hasn’t anyone else watched that amazing, stupid, wonderful, hilarious movie?

Continue reading “September 2016 Spotlight ~ IvIn Excerpt and Theme”

More on The Lady of the Vineyard

038

In a post last Monday, I told you that I’m going to publish The Lady of the Vineyard on September 10th of this year. Well, that’s still holds true, and today I’ll be sharing a brief excerpt plus me rambling about my novella a little … which will happen, knowing me.

First, the excerpt!


An Excerpt from Chapter Four

    “I like France,” Judy commented from behind a large box of chocolates.

“I’m glad,” Troy replied. The cab stopped in front of a small boarding house that looked tiny next to the huge, grand hotels they had passed on the way. Troy jumped out and reached back for Judy and the chocolates and Marilou.

“Where are we?” Judy inquired, examining the weathered-gray building with interest.

“This is the home of my dear friends, Monsieur and Madame Lecroix.”

“Why are we here?”

Continue reading “More on The Lady of the Vineyard”

Excerpt from Chapter Three

The Dressmaker's Secret

Good afternoon!

Today I’ve decided to post a brief excerpt from The Dressmaker’s Secret. 🙂

It’s a small portion of Chapter Three which I recently polished to further *sarcastic voice* “perfection.” 😉 I’m rather proud of it, actually, since I spent a good hour trying to improve it.

I hope you enjoy it (if you haven’t already).


 

The next evening Miss Chattoway and Nettie entered Alice and Ivy’s bedroom. Miss Christina was closing a storybook and the girls were begging for ‘just one more story.’

“I suppose there’s time,” Miss Christina considered, glancing at the small gold watch pinned to her bodice.

“Yes, there is,” Miss Chattoway firmly agreed, “But I’ll tell the last story. Would that suit?”

The girls immediately agreed.

“Christy, Nettie, would you leave us?” she asked as she pulled Ivy up onto her lap. After the two had departed, Alice curled up with her chin resting on her mother’s knee and passed the storybook to her.

“No, not these stories,” Miss Chattoway murmured. “Instead I am going to tell you a true story. Would you like that?”

Continue reading “Excerpt from Chapter Three”

Ivy Inquisitive (updates and an excerpt)

2 - Ivy Inquisitive

Well, I’ve finally started editing Ivy Inquisitive.I’ve finished the prologue and part of the chapter one (for the first time; there will be many drafts after this one).

As you can see, Makenna Pithey has updated my cover. Thanks, Makenna, it looks awesome! 🙂 I think that’s what gave me the drive to start editing … or, you know, reminded me that I actually have a book I’m supposed to be editing. 😉

Between November and now, I’ve been planning out what changes I want to make. I’ve decided to remove quite a few characters and subplots to simplify things … and now I worry about having enough material to make 50,000 words. Hmm.

What’s my greatest weakness in editing? Punctuation. Seriously. You’ll find commas scattered like legos (I have two little brothers) and semi-colons thrown in like baseballs (see last set of parenthesis) in my novels.

And here’s the promised-in-the-title excerpt. Continue reading “Ivy Inquisitive (updates and an excerpt)”

Excerpt from At Her Fingertips

At Her Fingertips

I had a sleepover with a friend and while she was here we (me, in other words) wrote an ‘excerpt’ from At Her Fingertips (The Chronicles of Alice and Ivy, Book 3). I know … I’m not supposed to be writing that one until next year. 🙂

Excerpt from “At Her Fingertips” by Kellyn Roth

“Is something wrong?” Peter asked, sitting on the bench next to her.

“It seems like everything I touch shatters,” Alice mumbled, hastily wiping her eyes with her handkerchief.

Peter rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Some days are like that.”

“Yes, but not some years!”

Peter laughed. “Some years, too! I’ve had those kind of years where nothing goes right.”

“But not ‘nothing’ for just me. ‘Nothing’ for everyone else … all the people I care about! I don’t think I’ve a friend left in the world.”

“You don’t think everyone would desert you so easily, did you?” he asked. “I don’t think family gives up on family until they’re hopeless … and you’re not hopeless. You’re not hopeless until you’re dead … and even then you’re not unless you made the wrong decision at the very last moment. What are you crying about now? Just everything or has anything specific put you over the edge?”

“The … edge?”

“An expression.”

“Americans have a lot of expressions.”

“English are good at avoiding questions without seeming to.”

“Good point. Well … I suppose all this trouble with Kirk … has been especially hard … and I’ve loved him all my life … but, in the name of all things holy, not like that!”

“Poor kid,” muttered Peter.

“What about me?” Alice asked. “How was I supposed to know that he thought I thought … I don’t think I’m to blame, do you?”

“Depends on the way you handled it. If you encouraged him, then it is all your fault, whether you knew it or not at the time. Whether you know it or not now, actually. If he came up with the idea that you were in love with him without your giving him any encouragement, then you’re faultless.”

“I suppose I’m to blame. I never made it clear that we were just friends … well, more than friends. Close as brother and sister. Still, he came up with a lot without my doing or saying anything that might make him think …!”

“Yes, that’s usually how it is in these cases. They’re not so rare. Childhood friends of the opposite sex are expected to grow up and become lovers. However, one or the other (if not both) are often opposed to this, and then the trouble starts.”

“So what should I do?”

“Erase your scribbles – or better yet throw away the paper – and start drawing from the beginning.”

Interesting, right? I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt about it in the morning … is it the wanderings of a girl’s sleep-deprived mind or a small segment of a great masterpiece? 😉 Whatever it is, I had fun writing it.

~Kellyn Roth

Sneak Peak: The Dressmaker’s Secret, Prologue

The Dressmaker's Secret

Here is a sneak peak of my book, The Dressmaker’s Secret, which will be published in early 2016.

Note: though this prologue is pretty polished, there are probably a few mistakes that will be corrected by the final draft. 🙂


Prologue

Miracles

“Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.” -Psalms 139:16.

Somewhere amongst the moors of Yorkshire, a tall, stately, but gloomy and terrifying mansion loomed up against the sky. It was Starboard, the old Chattoway estate.

Through dusty halls and up creaking staircases, there was a beautiful bedroom, a haven in a house full of morbidity. In the flickering firelight, the sky blue walls and white trim were given an orange tinge. Amongst the other pieces of furniture, the largest was a big, four poster bed with thick, dark blue curtains around it. The curtains to the right were drawn aside.

There lay a girl, looking unhealthily pale against the white sheets. Her golden hair fell limply over the pillow, her blue eyes, dull and lifeless, were shut behind closed eyelids. Her long, dark lashes touched her pale cheeks and her critically arched eyebrows seemed a deeper hue than usual against the pallor of her face.

Another girl about the same age sat next to the grate where a minuscule fire smoldered. She adjusted the shawl which hung about her shoulders and unwound the ball of yarn which led to the small blanket she was knitting energetically as she slowly rocked her chair back and forth in a slow, continual motion. As she rocked, she prayed, not knowing what else to do to aid her best friend’s situation.

There was a loud knock at the door, startling both the girls.

Nettie, the one who had been knitting, slowly rose from her seat, set aside her work, and walked to the door. She unlocked and opened it an inch, using her body to block the opening in case whoever was outside might have any ideas about coming in.

“It’s just me, Nettie,” said Mrs. Atwater, smiling. Mrs. Atwater, Nettie’s mother, was a rather large woman with graying light brown hair, happy gray eyes, and cherry-red lips capable of curling into broad, happy smiles. She wore a white apron over her light blue dress. The strings were stretched tight as they tried to surround her ample form and her chubby face was glowing from walking up the stairs and down the long, cold halls at a brisk pace. She carried a tray which held a bowl with contents emitting a tempting fragrance and a plate containing several simple – but delicious – food items.

Nettie stood aside to let the older woman in.

“You’re awake, Miss Claire?”

Miss Claire Marie Chattoway, the girl who had been sleeping, nodded. After a minute, she whispered, in a tired voice, “Yes.”

“I brought something for your dinner, Miss Claire,” Mrs. Atwater continued in a cheerful tone. “Something to tempt your appetite. It’s not good for you not to eat. You might hurt yourself.”

“I’m not hungry,” Miss Chattoway said, quietly. “Please … won’t you just leave me alone?”

Nettie gave Mrs. Atwater a worried look. She set the tray on a nearby table, took Nettie’s hand, and led the young woman into a corner of the room. There, they held a whispered consultation.

“She hasn’t eaten enough to keep a mouse satisfied since we got back,” Nettie whimpered. “I’m afraid. What if she kills herself? She just doesn’t want to live. What should I do?”

“She has hope. She’s not completely despondent,” Mrs. Atwater replied. “She’ll be fine … just give her time.”

“But it’s been nearly six months and she hasn’t even smiled!”

“Well, do you expect her to?” Mrs. Atwater asked. “She hasn’t had much to smile about, Nettie. But she has a lot of life ahead of her. Let me see … she’ll be eighteen this December.”

“Yes, right before … you know,” she said, significantly.

“Yes, I know,” Mrs. Atwater replied, smiling weakly. “Poor creature!”

“You know that if she leaves Starboard, I will go with her,” Nettie said seriously.

“Yes, of course. You’re her handmaiden and her friend and as close to her as a sister. I’d like to see anyone pry you away from her!” Mrs. Atwater laughed. “She loves you Nettie, as she loves her sister and her brother. She hasn’t had all that many people to love.”

“Of all the people in the world, why did she pick me as her special friend? Have me educated with her?” Nettie wondered with an affectionate glance at her mistress.

“Because you’re intelligent,” Mrs. Atwater replied, proudly. “Besides, you listen well. If there’s anything Miss Claire needs, it’s someone who will listen well.”

Nettie nodded.

Miss Chattoway, who had been lying listlessly back in the bed and watching the two whisper about her, suddenly sat up with a slight gasp. “Nettie!” she cried in a trembling voice.

“Claire, what is it?” Nettie asked anxiously, rushing to the bedside.

Instead of responding, Miss Chattoway leaned back against the pillows again.

“Claire, you called for me,” Nettie reminded gently.

“I know. I was startled,” Miss Chattoway said.

“And … you were startled by …?” Nettie hinted.

“Nothing, really,” Miss Chattoway muttered. “Give me your hand.”

“But I might use it later,” Nettie protested, smiling.

“Give me your hand if you wish to remain employed!”

“I don’t get paid.”

“Food and board.”

Nettie offered her hand to her friend silently and Miss Chattoway guided Nettie’s hand to her midsection.

“Do you feel that?” she whispered, almost afraid that she was imagining things.

“Yes, I do,” Nettie said, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh, Claire, it’s such a miracle, isn’t it?”

“I suppose so,” said Miss Chattoway, trying to keep her eyes from sparkling but not succeeding very well. “My baby! My baby inside me; alive and moving! I can’t believe it!” she thought, hushed from reverence.

A slow smile crept onto Nettie’s face, chasing away the shadows cast by worry from her countenance. She knew just what was going to bring light back into Miss Claire Marie Chattoway’s life.


Well? What do you think?!

~Kellyn Roth