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Here are some of the books I'm currently working on that I hope will be published in the future.
The Cavender Code - A middle grade ghost mystery in which a boy tries to solve puzzle clues leading to a family treasure buried on a Georgia farm during the Civil War. Will he solve the puzzle and find the treasure in time to help his homeless family settle down at last? And will the "treasure" be worth anything today?
This page is under construction. Please check back, as I'll be adding more information about my other books, and more excerpts.
The Cavender Code Present
"No! No! Daddy, Rob, don't go away! Mommy, please! Don't make me stay here! I want to go with you!"Rob jerked in the camper's lumpy bunk at the sound of Ellie's sleep-slurred cries. He heard the rattling sound of the rings across the rod as Mom jerked open the curtain that separated their parents' tiny sleeping quarters from the rest of the camper.
"Hush, now," Mom said softly.
Rob could hear her kneel down beside Ellie, and heard the squeak of the bunk springs that meant she had lifted his little sister and was cradling her.
"We're all here," Mom assured her. "Rob's asleep - didn't you hear him snoring?"
Had he been snoring? Rob felt his face flush. The camper was so small, you could hear practically everything. He was sick of the lack of privacy, sick of the camper, sick of his life. If I were grown up, he told himself in the litany that had grown increasingly familiar over their long months on the road, I wouldn't make my kids live in a camper. I'd find them a house, no matter what it takes.
"And Daddy's here," Mom went on, below.
"It's okay, honey," Dad said, his voice hoarse and strained. "We're all together."
"We're at Fairhaven," Mom said, and the word had its own magic that soothed Rob as much as it calmed Ellie.
Fairhaven. . . Mom's home. He knew the stories Mom had told them about growing up in the family home in Georgia by heart. His favorites had been about the Cavender sampler because, as far back as he could remember, it had fascinated him.
The sampler had been stitched at Fairhaven by one of his mother's ancestors, in the great house that had stood on this property during the Civil War. The sampler was dated 1866 in crooked numerals. It had been stitched by a girl named Anna Louise Cavender, and it was not an ordinary sampler. Mom had explained that most samplers had an alphabet and a floral design and an uplifting saying on them. This one had an alphabet and a bunch of funny-looking flowers, all right, but instead of a saying it had four lines of peculiar symbols. Puzzling over them when he was small, Rob had wondered if he might someday visit Fairhaven. Perhaps Mom's Georgia home that had inspired Anna to stitch the sampler held the key to understanding it. And now they were at Fairhaven at last.
1865 While the water heated, Anna stared through the window. She remembered how she and her brother had slipped out through the kitchen in the middle of the night to hide the silver and stock certificates and war bonds and a few treasured Cavender heirlooms. Everything to Rob had always been a mischievous prank, no matter how important the consequences. Still, as soon as Anna had told him she was afraid that Sherman's Yankees would pass near Fairhaven in the next weeks, Rob had agreed to help. Other families in the County lost everything they had of value, but the bluecoats had taken their anger out on Rob. . . .
Anna blinked hard and stared through the window. Although it was a clear, sunny day, she couldn't quite make out the figure by the magnolia tree. It looked like a boy-but she couldn't bring him into focus. It couldn't be one of the Henry boys; there was far too much work for them at home now for one of them to be wandering off. William Parson was much shorter, and there were no other boys near her age, now that Rob was gone.
She rubbed her eyes and looked harder at the shadowy figure. He seemed quite young to be a soldier and, anyway, he wasn't wearing a uniform, just some peculiar pull-over shirt with short sleeves, like a workman. And he wore strange soft shoes, not proper boots. Could he be a beggar, come looking for food? He should have come to the kitchen door to ask properly.
Then the boy looked around and Anna saw his face for the first time. Suddenly the hazy figure came clear and she recognized the familiar black hair, although it looked far too long, and the high cheekbones.
"Rob!"
The box of tea tumbled to the floor as she cried out and flung her hands to her mouth.
Startled, the boy jerked upright. He looked around wildly for a second, then stared hard at her. Their eyes met, and she saw his widen as hers had. His mouth opened, and she could barely make out words that seemed to come from a great distance.
"Hey. . . you all right?
Then the boy disappeared.
Permanent Record - A young adult novel set in the near future, when screens (slim laptops) have replaced all books, documents, videos, and music discs, and all correspondence, essays, and other writing is adjusted to keep it in line with political correctness.. In response to previous publication of false information, all data is now stored in cyberspace, and can be easily corrected and updated - or deliberately modified, and there is no permanent record to refer back to in order to correct those modifications. When innocent people are targeted by government security enforcers, an unlikely band of teenagers work together to challenge government re-education and find a way to restore the permanent records that have been lost.
Permanent Record Raymond watched the giant school screen at the front of the classroom change from an empty indigo blue to the familiar silhouette of a small face looking up at a larger face bending down to it. One by one, large capital letters appeared above the image: T E A C H. Then each word the letters stood for swam into focus: To Enrich All Children's Hearts. Below the image, the letters L E A R N appeared. Let Educators Advance had materialized, but before the other words could become visible, the door sensors flashed red and the school screen began alternately blinking amber and red. If any screen left the room now, alarms would sound and no student would even think of going anywhere without his screen, or at least his personal skin screen shoved into a pocket.
The tech next to Marty shut up, and Marty froze in the act of sliding open his screen's keyboard to light up the window with the day's homework. The two giggling girls went silent. They glanced at each other, their expressions concerned. Tiffani gasped dramatically and widened her eyes in shock. Only the ghosts did nothing except, possibly, become more still. And Raymond knew, without understanding how, that this was what he'd been waiting for all morning since his parents' strained goodbyes, since the student enforcer at the detection portal had scanned his screen to mark him present, and grinned at whatever response appeared on the master security screen.
Before the words and image had faded on the school screen, the doors flew open hard enough to bang dully against the grey acoustic tiles that paneled the walls, and five figures raced inside. Raymond couldn't tell whether the newcomers were men or women, because each one wore a tight molded black helmet with a tinted faceguard above what looked like a black and silver jumpsuit, stiff with some sort of layers of padding. But he and every other student in the room knew what they were: SAVERS, Security And Values Enforcement Regulatory Specialists.
SAVERS used to come in a lot, when the system was hauling the bullies in for special ed (after which they'd come back as student enforcers, to bully for the school system instead of for their own pleasure). Over the last few years, though, they mostly came in to get students who had grade trouble, to take them in for special ed to get them caught up with their classmates. Mostly those students went with them without objections. Their parents had usually warned them their poor grades would lead to this, or they were relieved to go someplace where they wouldn't be the bottom of the class all the time. Sometimes the SAVERS came to remove undesirables people who shouldn't be here like illegal Latinos, or troublemakers. Those students often resisted, so the SAVERS had to be prepared for anything.
In their black-gloved hands, each of the SAVERS carried what looked like a blocky, black plastic gun: an electrolyser. And each figure was pointing the electrolyser straight at Marty Ramdon.
One of the SAVERS waved a free hand to signal the others, and they surrounded Marty's desk.
The figure who'd signaled maybe their leader? stood directly in front of Marty and spoke. "Ramón Martinez, come with us now." Even though the speaker rolled his Rs, his voice sounded strangely clipped and metallic through the helmet's headset.
Tiffani gave a little scream. Raymond heard her as if from far away, almost lost in the roar of his blood pounding in his ears. He saw the tech sitting next to Marty actually pulled his own chair farther away in horror. After the rash of salmonella outbreaks linked to illegal immigrants and the near-pandemic of Hispanic Flu, Latinos were the worst undesirables there were.
Marty's neck flushed darkly and he shook his head, stammering. "No I don't I'm Marty Ramdon, not this Ramón whoever."
None of the SAVERS lowered an electrolyser.
The students sat unmoving, though Raymond could see that Tiffani was watching the action avidly. Most of the others looked horrified, and some looked frightened, even with the SAVERS there. Raymond could feel tension vibrating in every nerve ending.
The metallic voice repeated, "Ramón Martinez, come with us now."
Marty looked from one student to another, his eyes wide and horrified. "Tell them," he cried. "I'm not this guy they want I'm Marty Ramdon." He struggled to his feet and appealed to the minder, Mr. Wilson who taught scores in the old days when it was still math out of books. "You know I'm just Marty tell them!"
But Mr. Wilson couldn't meet Marty's anguished eyes. His gaze swept over the rest of the students, then settled on one corner of the school screen. Raymond saw him swallow hard.
Time seemed to slow down for Raymond as he watched Marty back away from his desk. "I'm not who you're looking for," he insisted. "Please!"
"Ramón Martinez, stand still," the metallic voice said. "You must come with us."
Marty kept shaking his head and edging backward. He raised his hands, palms out, as if surrendering at the same time he was trying to escape. The lead SAVERS moved one finger and the team squeezed the triggers on their electrolysers. Raymond dimly heard Tiffani scream as three cartridges flew through the air. The other SAVERS were holding their shots in reserve, in case the initial volley failed to bring Marty down. They needn't have worried. All three cartridges hit Marty, two in his chest and one in his upheld right palm, all three sinking their prongs into his body and jolting him with electricity. Raymond watched in horror as Marty's face stretched wide in a silent scream. Then he was down on the floor, writhing helplessly from the force contracting his muscles.
Two of the SAVERS stepped forward and administered a final jolt that knocked Marty out completely. A third picked up his screen and slapped the keyboard back in place so the window went dark. He checked to see the skin screen was still in its side slot, then nodded quickly. The leader took a quick look around the classroom, but none of the students moved to help Marty. No one even wanted to look at him. No one wanted the SAVERS to think they had anything to do with a Latino undesirable. The SAVERS dragged Marty's limp body out of the classroom, the last figure shutting the door behind them so the flashing red and amber lights went dark.
Raymond made himself stare at the school screen as it filled with an analysis of the students' homework. His mouth felt dry and he could barely focus on the text that appeared. He wished he could just raise his hand and leave the room to get a drink of water, but it was almost a relief knowing he couldn't do that. His legs felt so rubbery that Raymond wasn't sure he could walk into the hallway without their collapsing under him.
His hand trembled as he reached for the screen on his desk and slid the catch to open its keyboard. The adrenaline had drained out of him, but his instinct to become someone else had been right, even though he didn't understand this Ramón Martinez business yet. If he hadn't acted on that instinct, he'd be the one the SAVERS had dragged away.
Anna's Sea Song - A picture book about a girl who wants to get away by herself for a little while, but whose family members need her help.
Anna's Sea Song Anna slipped out the back door
but before it swung shut
her mother called to her, "Wait!"
Anna turned back
from the salty sea scent
carried on a beckoning breeze.
"I'm baking cookies,"
her mother told her.
"Will you take them out
of the oven for me?"
Spicy ginger wafted into the kitchen
from the tray of fresh baked cookies.
Anna stopped to eat one,
then two.
.