Today is the day! Sketches of My Soul launches today.
I'm excited for you to meet Tegan and Andrew. This story took me awhile to write and I had many eyes on the story to help me. I want to thank Harmony Kent for working with me on the first set of edits. Also, thanks to Mary at Ascend Editing who did an in-depth evaluation. Her knowledge is invaluable.
Here is an excerpt from the story:
Sketches of My Soul
I reached the mailbox at the end of my driveway and sifted through the mail. Maybe I’d find a notice that I’d won a trip to another country, like Italy. I’d meet a hot Italian boy with a love of culture and music … stay there and study art … The sound of spraying water pulled me out of my thoughts of Italian boys. My jaw dropped at the sight next door. Holy hotness! A shirtless guy that looked a little older than me, sprayed suds off a black jeep in my sixty-eight-year-old neighbor’s driveway. His muscles on full display. A tattoo flexed on his bicep with the flick of the hose. His dark hair curled at the ends and dipped into his face. Where did he come from and why was he at Mrs. White’s house? I swiped a palm over my mouth to make sure I didn’t have drool dripping down my chin.
Just then Mrs. White zoomed up to check her mail on a hot-pink scooter with helmet to match. The sight of her sparked a grin. “Hi, Mrs. White. I like your new wheels.”
“Hello, Tegan. She’s pretty, ain’t she?” Mrs. White rubbed her hand over the scooter. Bits of her white hair peeked out from under her helmet. Dark circles framed her emerald eyes.
“Yes, she sure is.” I nodded. Mrs. White was like a grandma to me. I didn’t have grandparents growing up, and she’d taken me in like one of her own. She said that she saw a lot of herself in me. My eyes slipped from her to the shirtless wonder washing his jeep in her driveway. Mrs. White’s eyes followed mine and she let out a squeal, causing me to jump and fling my mail. “Do you remember Drewy? He decided to pay his grandma a visit. About time.” She waved a hand in the air and called out, “Drewy come over here and say hello to Tegan.”
I dropped down to gather my scattered mail. Drewy. A fuzzy image a curly brown haired boy formed in my mind. We used to play together when we were little. He and his mom spent a lot of time at Mrs. White’s. One day, they up and moved to Michigan. I hadn’t seen him since. It never crossed my mind that it could be him next door. I rose and nearly tossed the mail all over again. Drewy McHottie was Andy!