Reqeust Worthy

Seeing as how I am just going to be sitting around waiting for a while on my current project, I decided I should be productive. I mentioned in my first post how this novel is technically the second one I've written, the first one I wrote with no intention of getting it published. I simple wrote it for me, because I wanted to write a book that I knew I would enjoy. I happily shared that novel with only a select few people. One of those people *cough* Jeff *cough* keeps reminding me that he really liked the first book I wrote too.

So, I've decided to give it a little love and attention. I've had quite a few people ask to read my stuff lately, and since I don't really want to make any changes to my most recent work until I hear back from some of the places I sent it out to, I decided to share a little of that first novel in hopes of making it better.

I've learned that alot of the literary agents require you to send not only your query letter, but the first chapter, or first couple chapters along with your submission. That means, that first chapter needs to be good, and it needs to make them want to request the rest of the manuscript. Keeping that in mind- this is the first chapter of the first book I ever tried to write.

How can I make it better?

Return to Frog Hollow

Chapter One: The New Girl in No Where

Emmie immersed her toes in the thick, over grown grass of her new front yard, wiggling them deeper toward the scolding ground. The temperature gauge in her rusted Ford Explorer read a mocking one hundred and one despite sitting in the supposedly cool shade of the looming mountains. In mutiny, she’d dug out her bikini from the tightly packed U-haul that still held more than half its original contents, and she refused to wear anything more until the job was finished, or the electric company decided to give in to her pleas of desperation and turn on the air conditioner a couple days early.

Resigning to her fate of becoming the first human chi kabob, she turned up the gallon jug of sweet tea she’d bought at the road side market that morning, and reveled in the ice cold sting it sent to her stomach. To say she hadn’t been prepared for the cross country move would be the understatement of the century at this point, but there was no turning back now. She’d successfully hauled in seven boxes, all amply labeled kitchen, before she realized that maybe she should have sought out reinforcements.

The thought brought an ill feeling to her gut. Emmie had a slew of friends back in Sacramento, even some that were nice enough to help her pack, and call to make sure she hadn’t broke down in Death Valley, or got caught in that round of tornados terrorizing the plains. However, she didn’t have anyone she would call family, or that she could count on to show up in the middle of no where in the Appalachia mountains and help haul a bed frame up a flight of stairs.

She sat the jug of tea on the front step, and stared back at the Victorian monstrosity that was now her home. Sure, she’d seen pictures of it in the paperwork the lawyer sent her, but they hadn’t done it justice. A photo could never capture the life this house projected from its chipped bricks, and the ivy clad chimney, to the crescent moon carved in the rustic front door. Emmie felt as if she’d been transported through time, back to the period when it was built, a clandestine sanctuary, tucked away from the rest of the world. When she’d pulled in the driveway that morning, she was instantly mesmerized by its majestic beauty. As the fog lifted through the carved valley, she’d pondered its secrets, hoping that maybe now, in this place that held such mystery of its own, that she could finally track down her own demons.

Heaving a sigh, she straightened her shoulders ready to face the daunting task in front of her and she didn't just mean the boxes. Her long mess of blonde hair was damp, and her brow was sprinkled with perspiration. She knew the decision she would have to make if she ever wanted to unpack everything, and even though she was already nervously biting the inside of her jaw, there just wasn’t anyway around it. This was her new start, the beginning of a new era, or at least, that was the pep talk she’d given herself when she decided to accept the offer supplied to her by the lawyer governing her mother’s will. If she was really going to do this, seek out the mystery to her very existence, then it was time she stopped pretending she was just another sun-kissed California girl.

She, Emmerson Katherine Daniels, was something more, and even though she didn’t understand it yet, she ventured even to think she was special. It was a difficult thought to swallow, especially after growing up in foster care, where she felt like they might as well have stamped “exceptionally ordinary” across her forehead. This opportunity, it was a sign, she assured herself for the thousandth time. She was meant to come back here, to finally find closure on all the unanswered questions, and even though it saddened her that it was brought on by the death of the mother she never knew, it was finally something.

It was a beginning.

Emotion built inside of her, even though she promised herself she was finished with the tears, and it clutched the air tight in her throat. She'd spent two weeks, alone in a car as she caravanned her way from the west coast to the unruly, eastern mountains, to cry it out of her system. Now it was time to move forward, to find out why she’d been abandoned, but apparently not forgotten about, and more importantly, to figure out why she didn’t actually need anyone to help her unload that steel framed bed from the U-haul.

Having mustered her courage, or maybe driven a little insane by the heat and her jaded heart, Emmie narrowed her eyes, and with a quick flick of her wrist, watched the bed frame gingerly elevate from the ground and move toward her in mid air. The satisfaction was over whelming. The lack of guilt and complete absence of fear was all empowering.

She may have never been wanted in her lifetime, but she was more certain than ever that it didn’t mean she wasn’t special.

With a renewed determination, she brushed off her hands after she watched the frame come to a gentle rest on the porch. She trotted back toward the trailer, a smile twitching at the corner of her lips. She took the black band wrapped around her wrist and twirled her long hair into a bun on top of her head as she developed her new plan of attack. This time she stepped back, grinning as two heavy boxes rose in the air, and drifted out the back of the U-Haul on their own accord. As she turned around, her attention wavered. She caught sight of movement on the empty porch, and it was enough to send the boxes crashing to the ground with the distinct clammer of breaking glass.

She didn’t flinch, or even cringe at the knowledge of the destruction of her favorite wine glasses, because she couldn’t manage the movement with her body frozen in its shocked position. Her eyes darted across the porch in the direction of the flash only to find a giant cat, blue as a cloudless day, staring at her a top the porch railing. She held her hand over her heart, her breath coming out in choppy jolts. “You scared me,” she hissed at the cat, but it had already started prancing along the railing. It’s back legs were exceptionally longer than the front, which caused it’s bobbed tail to bounce as it wound its way down the steps, where it happily wrapped itself around her ankles, to purr contently.

Her annoyance vanished as quickly as it came, because she knew that reaction too well not to sympathize. The cat was lonely too. She bent down, and held her hand out to allow the cat to stretch up and run the fluffy fur of its spine across her palm. She wondered then if maybe this cat had belonged to her mother. There wasn’t a collar, but this house, nestled almost eight miles down a dirt road, in the deepest valley of what felt like a forgotten place, wasn’t exactly easy to find. In fact, this house was the only one she’d seen since turning off the main road.

“Is this your home?” She asked as the cat nuzzled itself against her. Even if the cat could tell her no, she knew she would offer him a place to stay anyway. She’d never had a pet back in Sacramento, the city was too busy, and her life in college a little too hectic. However, now she would have plenty of time on her hands, at least until she found a job, and there was definitely plenty of space. The cat purred against her hand again, as if knowing she was making a decision about it. “You can stay,” she chuckled, looking down her nose with a stern expression. “Just don’t scare me like that again, alright?”

The cat happily weaved between her legs as she stood up, and she silently hoped it would stay. The company would be nice. She’d always felt alone in life, but here, seclusion would be too easy. Maybe she would just forget her lifetime search for answers, and become a crazy cat lady. At least now she had options.

Laughing at herself, she eased away from her new friend. He took the opportunity to find a spot on the top step to watch as she inspected the boxes, which now she was sure held some form of broken items inside them. She really hoped it wasn’t the wine glasses. She wiped the sweat forming on her brow, and readjusted her bathing suit top, deciding she’d worry about the state of her belongings when air conditioning was involved.

By the time the sun started to set that afternoon, the trailer was completely empty. Emmie pushed the doors of the U-Haul shut with a loud booming sound, which caused the cat to awake from its nap by the front door and scurry across the porch before coming to a halt under a wooden bench at the end. It peeked cautiously out at her and she laughed as she locked the doors. “That’s what you get,” she explained with a light-hearted chuckle, “for sleeping while I worked all day.”

He ignored her, stretching out his lopsided legs and yawning. Emmie climbed the porch to look through the front door at the mounds of boxes and furniture, admitting half heartedly that the work had only just begun. Everything was officially inside the house, but it would take days or in her particular case of procrastination, weeks, to unpack everything. Her stomach took that opportune moment to point out that it had been neglected long enough as it roared impatiently. She easily agreed, knowing that the dry cheerio breakfast, and half jug of sweet tea couldn’t be expected to last forever.

She dug through the bags in the back of her SUV, gathering all the necessities she’d bought that morning- a couple bottles of water, a flash light, candles, a cooler, ice, a battery powered fan and of course, junk food. By the time she’d carried it all upstairs she felt like she’d just jumped head first into a pool of boiling water. She quickly added some sheets to the mattress that lay in the middle of the bedroom floor, and propped her fan in the nearest window. After filling the cooler with drinks and ice, she changed into a tank top and shorts and plopped down on the mattress with a heavy thud.

She made short work of the two bags of chips, candy bar and trail mix before downing a bottle of water. With a full stomach, she fell over onto the mattress. As soon as she looked up at the peeling ceiling, her mind went into overdrive, compiling a list of tasks that needed to be accomplished the following day. Even with her muscles aching, she considered getting up to clean, or check out an old cabinet she spotted in the kitchen. However, none of those things could really compare to just laying spread eagle, breathing in the sweet air of freedom. She leaned her head back against the pillow, forcing herself to enjoy the quietness. Only the sound of distant chirps and bellows from bullfrogs reached her ears and it was comforting. The sirens, horns and rumble of the city night seemed like distant memories to her now. If only that worked for all the memories she wanted to keep locked deep in the back of her subconscious.

The weight of the long journey started to bear down on her as she felt the need to close her eyes. The sun had longed set, leaving only the dim light from the burning candles to pierce through the surrounding darkness. She dug deeper into the mattress, completely satisfied to call it an early night. She knew tomorrow would bring a whole new set of challenges, along with a new day of radiating heat. She thought maybe if she went to sleep right now, there was a slight chance she might wake up early and get some unpacking done before the mid-day heat wave. The thought was enough to convince her, and her eyes closed without instruction.

Except she wasn’t alone, and this time, it wasn’t the cat.