Sample Summer Gifts

[Here are the first few pages of a romance novel in progress. We also work in other genres, including serious fiction, mystery, children's fiction, science fiction, and horror.]

The early summer sun streamed down on Carrville, washing the little town and the high mountains to the north in a warm and lucid light. As Angeline O'Malley strolled down Main Street she felt the sunlight combing through her long auburn hair, and if she could have stood outside herself she would have seen the rays glancing off in flashes of burnt red and deep gold.

It was a beautiful morning, and Angie could not help thinking of how many times that same mountain sun had shone down on her during her high school years. It might be trite, but still it was true - those really had been the days.And the summers had always been the best. Visions raced through her mind of cool mornings exploring Renegade Hill with her best friend Beth, of hot summer afternoons floating down the river on an inner tube, and of lazy days spent stopping by the town library to pick out a few choice books, then home to lose herself in a good story.

Nearing her destination, Angie's pace quickened, her light green summer dress clinging to long, slender legs as she approached the little shop with the sign above the door that said simply, "Beth's Gifts." Outside the shop she paused for a moment, appreciating the attractive window display, its centerpiece a small, exquisite mirror. Sinuous veins of jade ran through the dark, intricately carved wooden frame of the mirror, and as Angie caught her partial reflection within its glass, the large eyes that gazed out at her seemed formed of that same precious jade. Deep green and shaded by long, curving lashes, the eyes were set above a small, straight nose. "A regal nose," Beth had always said, a nose fit for a queen. Or perhaps a princess, Angie thought, for she could almost believe that the person gazing out at her was not a grown woman at all, but that same teenaged girl from years ago, come back to a quiet mountain town to live once more through golden summer days.

A loud blast from some passing vehicle cut into her reverie and gave Angie a start. She turned to see a huge motorhome inching along the street, its driver leaning out his window with an exasperated look, as if he were about to shake his fist at the elderly lady slowly crossing in front of him. And close behind the motorhome crept another, and then another, a whole line of them stretching down the street, each driver wearing that same tired, impatient expression.

No, Angie thought, this wasn't the same sleepy Colorado town she had spent her adolescence in. During her seven year absence, the little hamlet tucked away in the mountains had turned into a first degree tourist trap, a big X on the maps of thousands of vacationers threading their ways along the interstate from east and west to spend their week or two of hard-earned holiday at the big lake with its campgrounds 10 miles outside of town.

And she was no longer the carefree high school girl who had once felt so much a part of the little town. In fact, was she really so different from the people in their big motorhomes? She turned back to the window and saw her reflection again, full lips turned up in the barest hint of a wry smile. After all, wasn't she just another vacationer? Just one more overworked city dweller come to the mountains to clear her mind of city smog?

But she was different, she insisted to herself. Those others hadn't spent every minute of a 1,000-mile drive captivated by the idea that they were going home. And they hadn't suddenly felt like an outsider upon arrival, seeing that home had turned into a barely recognizable boom town.

Abruptly Angie became aware of the friendly, animated face that had appeared on the other side of the window - it was Beth, motioning for her to come in.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Angie said, though she doubted that Beth could hear her.

At least Beth hadn't changed, and when Angie had arrived at Beth's house the previous evening after her long drive from Chicago it had been a true delight to see her dearest friend once again. Jake, Beth's husband of six months, had also made her feel welcome. Though Angie had been unable to get the time off from her job as a hospital public relations spokesperson to attend the wedding, and had never met Jake before, it had taken only a few minutes to feel she had known him for years. He seemed to be the perfect husband for Beth - thoughtful, quiet, and yet with a wonderful sense of humor. They had all talked until past midnight until the exhaustion had finally set in and Angie had retired to the warmly decorated guestroom that Beth had prepared for her - so muc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmuc6 ±›P:Í¨XÔ¬fV3j«µŒÚÕm@êÆ uc6:±›PXÍ¨fÔ¬jV3«µÕŒÚÆm@ê6 ucP:±›XÍ¨¬fÔ3jVµ«ÕŒÚêÆm@c6 u›P:±¨XÍ¬fÔV3jµ«ÚÕŒ@êÆmucF Èð ßö“dáúŠŠ6^ƒÈ$T J‹SmºŒ¸ù'cOÇÈðíéÒ0¬ÏšÎkHAGÛuc0Èxç1æ£8-¦«·uðë×‰½—¯:IšJt3›ãÕ´Hª9ãBÈÎÝ:¢öˆËUèDª;HMÒÔf)0¥Èé3#}£Îù‹¨Þ9¿ª—ÊF2ÜŠ)TyÈtarìÁè±imÍÎùÝÁ‘uEøÉ‡€:™)Fm<ýS¤céÁCùx% ÅÕ©iÿÞ†æ–Ÿ8F„%:.aÚÂêc¶lZ¡išh‹z¤¹”åoä[F7u·±)roïÀò8%}êÅþ•Æ»XÚäÚÖC;Aœ%YZ2¶a9ãØ¦¤;*IÅœµµ¥Å0ú”Ô0FOÈ'{W±)ò<èÂKå5,ÏÄåhòû“È½Æ^œ4CÔ~(<™Žå8æ/]µ6ôÅÆŒwàéŠŸ¼ZÑw(G˜›}8eíÆò`uwçŸšh‹ë!¢æ§âEuTÐÎ}V]eßa5`¨˜¶çw+KÂÆÿíé…gGæ–˜Ì4[MÔ$T>iÕaã/¨£8-‹Çö6µö“« µÃQÌYšTF,ØÁê2ø~æg§Z›‘wî÷Ù…´Ð&tFÖ…b8nùÇò8ZIå·Òëz£µË„ kHŸ×xF2‡:;2äÚ¸ùx7J•¬Bðë‘i¼ŠŸ…1Z˜,@,Ópï:âÚçcq@•ñ:¾¿‘Ž»ÏÎCÙ9F