Sunday Snippet: Getting Schooled

March 9, 2014

Whew. Crazy weather week of back and forth between frigid temps and snow and a lovely little warm-up that didn't last very long. LOL At least I had good television to watch.

As predicted, Arrow's episode fifteen, The Promise, proved to be seriously bad ass. I almost think they crammed too much into the hour—I would have loved to see a little more detail. I'm just not quite down with Slade being so uber-pissed at Oliver over Shado's death. Yes, I'm aware the Mirakuru IS the reason he's not particularly rational. But Ivo's manipulation seemed a little conveniently heavy-handed. Of course, Oliver's guilt doesn't help so there's that. LOL I'm also really interested to see if the rumor mill speculation about who Felicity's father is proves correct.

Bitten is still eating my brain. Seriously, the final episodes of the season should be mega-uncomfortable for the characters. And if Daniel Santos doesn't die a horrible death like he did in the books, I'm gonna lose my mind. J

Only one episode of Banshee left and I'm actively praying Rabbit gets his due. Then I'll probably have to wait for next season to see what the fallout will be from Proctor, but I can deal. Something to look forward to. J

Tonight's post is from Getting Schooled, a novella where my characters get schooled by their tween-aged campers. Fun times!

Here's the tagline:

Tamsin and Ike are resident leaders at neighboring summer camps. Tamsin works with upper crust girls and Ike has underprivileged boys. When a grant program director suggests bridging the gap, neither is very excited by the prospect, but once they meet, both get schooled in by how well the kids get along.

And a snippety peek…

Ike spun around and snarled. "Up yours."

Tamsin lifted a brow. "Really? Do you have any idea how juvenile that sounds?" Her lips twitched, but she didn't laugh.

Ike sighed. "I spend my day with twelve-year-olds. Can't help it if they rub off on me." He gathered up the folder he'd put together for the grant director.

Tamsin snorted. "I don't know any twelve-year-old who still says 'up yours'." She neatly stacked the flash drives she'd used for her presentation.

He narrowed his eyes. "Probably because you're spending a lot of time teaching them to say 'fuck you'." The insult rolled off his lips before he could stop it.

She blinked. "Wow. Harsh." She sank down onto one of the brightly painted, wooden folding chairs.

Contrite, Ike apologized. "Yeah, sorry. You seem to bring out the mean in me." A terrible excuse for being an asshole, but Tamsin's stunt with director pissed him off.

She definitely took advantage of all the privilege at her fingertips. He chose to keep things simple and opted for a dry erase board and the file. He'd donated new laptops to the camp, paid for out of his pocket, so his boys could gain some experience working with graphics and gaming programs. Her girls had more interest in the latest make-up and fashion trends than learning valuable skills and Tamsin encouraged them by staging a big end of summer soiree, complete with a runway show and 'virgin' cocktail party. What pre-teen needed to learn how to walk a catwalk and make small talk over non-alcoholic mixed drinks?

Ike has preconceived notions about Tamsin. He's going to be very surprised when Tamsin reveals where she comes from. J

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin