The website for young adult author Kate Larkindale. A place for her musings on writing, publishing and a day job in the arts sector.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Altered perceptions
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Lovin' The Language
4. She marches me through the mall. She doesn’t seem to care I’m stumbling and tripping over small children, packages and other things that slide into my path. When Mom gets focused on something, it’s impossible to get her to see anything on either side of her beam. I trip along beside her and pray not to kill a toddler.
5. As the week drags on, I grow desperate. When he’s there, the chill coming from him is so intense, I can feel it in my room. I picture the icy waves of hatred creeping under his door, sneaking across the living-room to trickle under my door. At night I have to wrap extra blankets around myself to ward off the cold. Even then I find myself shivering.
YoYou will let me know what you think, won't you?
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Lifetime writer?
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Let it rock!
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Diving in
Sunday, June 19, 2011
And now for something completely different...
Something you probably didn't know about me, is that I used to be a chef. I still love to cook, even though I no longer make my living at it. There is something very satisfying about preparing food for people. Less satisfying is preparing food for children who turn their noses up at anything they don't recognize and say "I don't like that" without trying it, but....
Friday, June 17, 2011
Heads up!
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Contest winners!
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Born this way?
Monday, June 13, 2011
100 Followers + contest
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Romantic scene...
“Get out of those wet things.” He gestures at my clothes. “You’ll die of pneumonia. Or double pneumonia as my grandma always used to say.”
I don’t argue. I peel off my wet sweatshirt and rub the towel across my skin, trying to force the circulation back into it. My butt and thighs are numb, but I can’t take my jeans off. Not here. I just wrap the quilt around me and curl up on the couch again, still shivering.
Izzy ducks back into the room, zipping her jacket and pulling a woolen cap over her blond hair. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Where…” I can’t manage anything more.
“I’m going to your place,” she says. “I’ll make sure Lucy’s okay.”
Relief crashes over me. “Thanks.” I let my eyes close for a second. I wait until I hear the door click closed before opening them again.
Jake’s looking at me, standing by the couch, his eyes weary-looking. His hair is mashed against his head on one side, and his boxers sit low on his hips, hanging unevenly around his legs. He bends over, and before I know what’s happening, he’s knotted his hands behind my head, drawing me toward him. His lips meet mine, pressing my mouth against his. I pull him closer. I’m kissing him. Finally kissing him. And he’s kissing me! His lips are soft and full, warm, tasting a little like cinnamon candy.
It’s either a second or forever before I pull away. He steps back, and when I find the courage to look up, he’s leaning against the windowsill, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. What just happened? Am I dreaming?
“Have you any idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that?” Jake’s voice is shaking.
I must be dreaming. This can’t be real. Did he just say what I think he did?
“Me too.” I get up, letting the quilt drop from my shoulders. I stand before him, realizing he’s trembling too. I bend and kiss him again, gentle this time, testing the waters, seeing if this might possibly be real. His tongue touches mine, and something like electricity pulses through me, weakening my legs so I have to brace myself on the wall to keep standing.
This time he’s the one to pull away. For a long moment we just stare into each other’s eyes. I’ve never noticed the flecks of gold and brown in his before.
“So… If you’re…um… Why did…?” Words fail me. My heart’s pounding loud enough to deafen me and my lips ache to be pressed to his again.
“Why’d I freak out that day in the locker room?” Jake gives a wry grin.
I nod. How the hell did he know what I was thinking? The guy’s a genius. “Yeah.”
He sighs and moves away from the window. “I’m a dick. I told you that. I freaked out. I’d been trying so hard not to like you, man. When you came at me like that, it scared the hell outta me. So I ran. And then I tried to find out if you meant it, remember? At that motel? After the meet?”
“I remember.” I nod again, stare down at my feet, too scared to look at him.
“I asked you, man. I pretty much came out and asked. And you blew me off.”
“I was scared too.” Admitting it is incredible. It’s like I’ve lost ten pounds in an instant. “I mean, you ran off on me the first sign of anything like that. What was I supposed to think?”
We move toward each other, lips meeting once more. I can taste last night’s booze on him in a bitter undertone.
“You’re wet,” he murmurs, jumping as my leg comes into contact with his. “And freezing. Why don’t you take those off?” His hands make their way under the towel and fumble with the top of my jeans. They’re warm against my cold skin. I’ve dreamed of this moment so many times, but I never imagined this heat. I moan as he tugs my pants down to my ankles and I step out of them. The towel rises in front of me as if by magic. Jake’s fingers brush against me and I clutch at his shoulders.
It’s at this moment my exhausted muscles resign and I crumple to the floor.
Please, don't be afraid to tell me what you think!
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Why I Write YA
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
First Chapters
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Tag!
Tag!
Do you think you're hot?
Well, not just at the moment. It's winter here, and we don't have central heating. So I'm not hot. Also, I'm in my robe, having just gotten out of bed, and nothing says 'hot' like bed hair and a rather dirty, worn blue robe.
Upload a picture or wallpaper that you're using at the moment.
My wallpaper is a revolving series of pictures of my kids. I love it because I never know which picture is going to pop up next, and when I'm at work, it's nice to see their faces, Especially on those long days where I drop them off at school and creche first thing in the morning, and don't see them again until the next mornings. Here's one of my faves...
The song(s) you listened to recently.
What were you thinking as you were doing this?
Do you have nicknames? What are they?
Tag 8 blogger friends...
Ok. Trying to find new ones this time around. I seem to always spotlight the same people.
1. Tamara Hart Heiner
2. Cherie Smith
3. Kurt Chambers
4. Christine Murray
5. Annie McMahon
6. Rebecca Bradley
7. Sarah
8. T F Walsh
Who's listed as No. 1?
Tamara. She's the moderator of the first critique group I joined, and the first of my writing friends to get published. You should all read her book, Perilous.
Say something about No. 5
Annie is in my YA critique group and is a constant cheerleader for everyone in it.
How did you get to know No. 3?
Kurt is a stalwart of the YA critique group and one of the chattiest people in the forum. At Christmas I had the privilege of having a Skype conversation with him and Annie.
How about No. 4.
Leave a message for No. 6
I just met you recently through your blog, so hello! I hope to get to know you better.
Leave a lovey dovey message for No. 2.
I'm so enjoying reading Haven again. It's so much more complete and polished than it was last time I read it. It's almost like reading a whole new book!
Do No. 7 and No. 8 have any similarities?
Well, they're both aspiring writers, but then, most of the people I know online are writers. Does that count?