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Saturday, July 10, 2010

Matchy Match Contest

Here's the deal.  Match the title to the excerpt.  For bonus/brownie points, see if you can match the author too!  I threw a paragraph of mine in there for fun, though I'm cringing because it's beyond rough.  I figured if YOU were all brave enough then I should be too, right?  If someone gets it all right, I'll come up with a prize but I don't know how big or fun it'll be yet. 

Put your guesses into the comments...I don't think that's cheating since no one will know whether your guesses are right or not.

(1) A Day Too Soon
(2) Absolution
(3) Aura
(4) Behind Closed Eyes
(5) Dragonfly Story
(6) Getting to Peloria
(7) The Other Prince
(8) Serpent in the Snow
(9) Snapshot
(10)Thicker Than Water

Z - Theresa Milstein
Y - Vicki Rocho
X - Jen Daiker
W - Lenny Lee
V - Sydney Thompson
U - Janet Johnson
T - Angela Felsted
S - Mary McDonald
R - Dawn Ius
Q - Wendy Ramer

Heath believed I'd made the blond man up, that he was a product of too much daydreaming. He had some pretty convincing arguments to go along with his theory too. I swallowed hard, maybe he was right. Maybe the blond man wasn't real. But when the man's round blue eyes locked onto mine, real or not, I wanted to run. My heart pounded like a frantic bird beating its wings against my ribs cage.

When they woke up from napping in front of the warm fireplace and turned around, they were surprised to see a young boy sitting in the red rocking chair. He looked to be about eleven or twelve years old. He had curly, short black hair, dark brown eyes and tan coloured skin. He was wearing blue jeans and a black and red plaid, long sleeved, flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up a few turns. He wore heavy red, wool socks and in front of his stretched out feet sat a pair of well-worn black hiking boots. He was reading a Superman comic book and sipping a cup of steaming, hot chocolate. Ollie was perched behind him, sleeping on the back of the rocking chair. There was a small raccoon curled up, sleeping and snoring, near his feet. Gunther was lying down resting on a straw mat near the door. A white cat was sleeping on the window sill next to a pretty purple flower. Fletch thought to himself how lucky he and his friend were to be here. It was warm and cozy and everyone was friendly.

Like the idea of being alone in a crowded movie theater, or concert, or stadium, I love that I can be just one person who is part of so many. I've always felt comfortable being on my own in crowded places for this very reason – the belief that I am part of the universe, of a bigger picture, of a massive human experience. I exist, yet I don't. I secretly observe the idiosyncrasies of human nature. The cigarette smoker who curls the corner of his upper lip as the bottom lip pushes out a plume of smoke that floats with the breeze into the eyes of his neighbor. The disgruntled neighbor who brushes away the cloud with a stiff hand gesture, while sipping his beer and simultaneously swiping his tongue across his lips to clear away the foam. The young barman who snubs the haughty cigarette smoker and his aggravated beer-drinking friend with a minute chin thrust as he clears away the abandoned wine glasses at a nearby table. None of them sees me because, to them, I am invisible. But I am here feeling drawn in by their mundane habits, such a significant part of being human. And when I feel human, I feel alive.

As Bob and Charming led their horses back, Bob couldn't help but compare himself to his brother: Charming's wavy-golden locks to the dull brown stuff on his own head. His brother's muscular build to his pot-belly and flabby arms. The six-inch height difference. Bob wondered if they really were brothers.

Beaded necklaces are a girl's best friend. At least that's what I tell myself until my sixteenth birthday rolls around where I'll get my very own diamond necklace for the first time. It's been a family tradition for years.

"Royalty gets the best my dear Stella" my grandmother once shared with me. Don't go thinking I'm a princess, because I'm nowhere close, it's something my grandmother desperately wishes for, she just hasn't realized that it isn't in her blood.

"Your first set of diamonds won't be your last either dear, especially after you marry Prince Kensington" there's the kicker, the plan. Regardless it would not be the end of diamonds because throughout the years you are given them at certain ages; however my grandmother would prefer I just marry the highest of royalty, the prince himself. Problem you ask? Yeah he isn't gorgeous like one would think; the typical handsome prince with chiseled features is not the immature boy that stands in front of court every day I attend.

The volley of shots ceased. Damien could feel their confusion; feel their doubt. What if they had mistaken his position after all? What if he had moved without them seeing? Although his ears were still ringing, he could imagine his opponents creeping along the walls and over obstacles. Slowly, they were approaching, hoping to find a corpse instead of a pissed off redhead with three more clips. Damien rose to a half crouch on his tiptoes and walked backwards until he reached a beam. Slipping behind it, he rested his gun against his shoulder and strained to hear movement.

He clamped his mouth shut, his jaw muscles twitching and looked down at the fingers of his left hand poking out of the sling. He picked at the bandage circling his palm, marshaling his thoughts. Drawing a deep shaky breath, he stared blankly at the opposite wall for a few seconds before finally speaking, his voice barely above a whisper, "It's not that I wanted to die. I thought I was going to die anyway and I just didn't want to die--" He broke off; that wasn't quite right. Feeling his face burn, he dropped his gaze, his eyes roaming the hills and valleys of the bedspread covering his lap. "I didn't want to be found…like…like that."

Ferragamo shuffled his shoulders in an attempt to squirm out from under the dirt. Rain rushed to fill the new valleys and crevices. The mud cracked, thin lines webbing from neck to pelvis. Nico watched the struggle, knowing it was futile. And then saw the precise moment of realization, the second Ferragamo understood that a thick blanket of mud pinned him into the ground with no opportunity – no hope – for escape. His face paled, eyes grew wide and alert. A soft gurgle echoed from his throat.

"You have freaky eyes." Those were the first words spoken to me on my first day of kindergarten by a chubby boy who should've been more concerned about his diet than my appearance. I did what any sensible five-year-old would do and pushed him to the ground. He, of course, wailed to the teacher, as all bullies do when they've been bested. I was immediately reprimanded and put in a "time-out" chair to "think about" what I'd done. Honestly, all it did was give me to time to consider whether or not my eyes were indeed, "freaky".

I gnawed on my lower lip as I peeked through the vinyl mini blinds into the parking lot below . I thought I'd heard a car door, but the freshly painted asphalt was still deserted. Jackson should have been home two hours ago. He'd been working late the last few months, but he always called. I paced the few feet between the dining room table and our black leather sofa as I dialed his cell. It went straight to voice mail. Again. My stomach tightened uncomfortably. Something was wrong. He never turned his phone off. Never. Where could he be?


Mary McDonald said...

Oh wow, this was hard! I only have one right. lol


I can't even begin to attach writers to excerpts.

Julie Musil said...

Ok, this will require serious thought. I'll come back with my serious hat on.

Theresa Milstein said...

I'm with Mary.


Lenny said...

wow miss vicki this is soooo hard. heres my guesses. bet i got one right. mine! ha ha


...hugs from lenny

Sharon K. Mayhew said...


Yeah...I'm not even close...Great exerpts!!!!!!!! I adore "I."

Vicki Rocho said...

Let's make this a little more far I count SEVEN correct answers above, BUT I'm not going to say whether I counted duplications as one or two.

Janet Johnson said...

Okay, totally guessing here:

Stephen Tremp said...

Hmm ... I had a little too much wine tonight. So I'll do what I did in high school, guess, and somehow pass:


Stephen Tremp

Stephanie Thornton said...

Oh my gosh! This is so cool and so hard! I can't wait to see the answers!

Julie Dao said...

Oh no, I am going to be terrible at this. I'll have to ponder it a bit more and come back! :)

L. Diane Wolfe said...

Dear Lord, I couldn't even begin to guess!!!

Anonymous said...


This is a question for the webmaster/admin here at

Can I use some of the information from your blog post right above if I provide a link back to this site?


Vicki Rocho said...


Send an email to MissVSpeaks(at)gmail(dot)com and let me know what you were wanting to use.