Portrait de joelle-cherie

About the author
joelle-cherie
Novel: THE DUCT TAPE PIRATES and IN THE SHADOWS and TO CHERISH
55,246 words so far   Winner!

About joelle-cherie

Location: Carthage, MO

Home Region:
United States :: Missouri :: Elsewhere

Age:15

Favorite novels: The Gilded Age Mysteries, The Clare Fergusson/Russ Van Alstyne Mysteries

Favorite writers: Julia Spencer-Fleming, P.B. Ryan, Victoria Thompson, Dee Henderson

Favorite music: Whatever I'm in the mood for

Non-noveling interests: Reading, Ballet, Crochet, Sewing, speaking French (I'm learning), learning American Sign Language (I'm teaching myself), driving with my dad (because putting me in the driver's seat scares the crap out of him)

Joined date: octobre 2, 2007

Years done NaNoWriMo:
'06

Years won NaNoWriMo:
'06

NaNoWriMo posts: 78

NaNoWriMo buddies: 33

 


THE DUCT TAPE PIRATES and IN THE SHADOWS and TO CHERISH
an excerpt

The Duct Tape Pirates-
We were a team. We were a divided team. We had barely gotten past the state competition with our dignity intact, but we had also only been competing against one other team. In the competition that we were in, we went to State. From State we went to the World Finals. We thought that we had improved, if only because we had a better script. However, I found that you never really know your team, until you travel with them. Believe me, sixteen hours on a bus will show you the truth about a person…
To start off on this adventure, one must know the team from the beginning:
Brandt- Every team has to have a major butthead, right?
Lassiter- He was just along for the ride.
Brennan- He was dedicated to the team, and us winning, until we got to Michigan.
Michel- The girly-man of the team...
Renee- What a talker.
Anne-lise- Even though she was a big part of the team, she was not there when we needed her.
Mrs. Dawn- Say hello to our head coach.
Joelle- Guess who is telling you the story. I'm serious, just guess.

In the Shadows-
The man slammed her back against the red brick wall.
“I’m going to like this,” he growled in a menacing voice, leaning close.

She punched him in the gut at the same moment that someone grabbed the big man by the back of the neck and hauled him back. The two men started fighting as she sank to the ground, trembling at what could have happened. She closed her eyes as the sounds of grunts and wheezing reached her ears. Her breathing was ragged and she was fighting to regain control over it, over her shaking, over everything that was raging inside her body. But mainly, she was fighting the fear.
Out of the dark that surrounded her and her closed eyes, she heard a voice.
“You’re safe now; it’s okay,” a man’s familiar deep voice assured her as she felt a warm scraped hand on her own. “Don’t worry, he can’t hurt you.”
She opened her eyes and took his hand, letting the man help her up. Silently, she prayed, thanking God that he had sent someone to save her from what could have been a brutal attack.
“Let’s get you home; you’re more beat up than I thought you were at first. Did he hurt anymore than I can see?” the voice was as comforting as the face. He let her lean on him for comfort. He helped her steadily walk to the train station.
“You mean things like my pride?” she asked sarcastically.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean,” he answered.
“Well, to start out, my pride and dignity were severely damaged, but they’ll heal, in time.”
“Good. Here, sit down on the seat,” the man guided her to a cushioned bench on the train. “Take a nap. I’ll get you home.”

To Cherish-
When we were young, we felt immortal. Invincible and permanently high. That has been the way that teenagers have thought of themselves since the beginning of time. Teenagers will go on believing that until the end of time also. But, what happens when something happens that tells you that you are not invincible, that you are not immortal, that you can die? Something happened, and we thought that we were mortal for about a week. The sadness grew into anger or we just forgot. Everything changed, yet everything stayed the same. You ask what happened. I’ll tell you. This may have happened years ago, but, you must promise me that you will listen, that you will take in what I am saying and remember it. Remember the story. Remember these girls.

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