Winter Solstice Offerings (an ELIXIR BOUND short story) by Katie L. Carroll

This takes place before the events of ELIXIR BOUND. Siblings Katora, Kylene, and Bhar Kase are performing their annual celebration of the Winter Solstice.

“Do you have the acorns and your offering for the sacrifice?” Bhar asked with an impish grin and a glint in his blue eyes.

“Sacrifice?” Katora raised her right eyebrow and thumped her younger brother on the shoulder. “You know the Great Mother doesn’t approve of sacrifices. I do have all but one of the offerings, and Kylene should be getting it right now.”

Bhar laughed as he ran deeper into the trees of Faway Forest. Katora shook her head in annoyance and wondered if Bhar would ever be serious about anything. She shifted her backpack and followed his indelicate footsteps. The trees were completely bare, their fallen leaves crunchy under her boots.

She stopped in a small clearing. Bhar stood in the center, a series of stacked rocks interspersed at regular intervals around him. She dropped her pack outside the rocks and sat inside the circle, legs crossed.

Katora had been coming to this place on the Winter Solstice for as long as she could remember. Her two older sisters used to participate in the ceremony, but they had recently moved out of the family home. They now held their own traditions. This was the first year they wouldn’t be there, and Katora wasn’t sure she wanted to be there either. Maybe she was getting too old for such traditions.

Still, Katora would honor the Great Mother with Bhar and her younger sister, Kylene. As Katora thought of her, Kylene loped into the clearing, cheeks rosy and long blond hair wild. Quick puffs of breath escaped her mouth in the crisp air.

“I’ve got it.” From her pocket, Kylene pulled a small nut ending in woody cap. “It wasn't easy, but I found a late hold-out from a young oak.”

Katora help up her hand, and Kylene tossed the acorn. Katora caught it easily and set it on the ground next to three others, each one collected during a different season. A hearty vine with withered essenberries also lay on the cold dirt. As Kylene sat, her gray cloak, the same color as the cloud covered sky, fanned out behind her and touched Katora’s cloak at the corner.

“Let’s begin.” Katora rubbed her chapped hands together, souvenirs from years of farming. “Bhar, you did bring the trowel, didn’t you?”

Bhar produced the tool from his pants pocket. “Of course. Do you even have to ask?”

She grinned and glanced at Kylene, who failed to hide a smile. They both knew Bhar needed to be asked. He took his place next to his sisters. Behind him, his cloak touched each of theirs and completed the circle.

“Please present your items,” Katora said, tapping her offering of the vine.

A playing card—the queen of hearts—appeared in Bhar’s hand, seemingly from nowhere. With a flick of the wrist, he tossed it among the acorn, the withered offerings from past seasons, and the essenberry vine. Kylene kissed a worn leather-bound book and gently placed it on the ground. The three siblings grasped hands and closed their eyes.

Katora chanted, “Mother Nature, we gather and return the fruit of the seasons. Take these and our personal offerings from our hearts to yours. As the cold of winter takes hold, offer in return safe passage to spring.”

A moment of silence passed before Bhar forced the shovel into the hard dirt and began to dig a small hole. Except for the scrape of the trowel, he worked in complete silence, the forest quiet as it fell into the sleep of winter. Katora and Kylene deposited the offerings into the hole. All three scooped the soil back over the hole and patted it down.

They grasped hands again, fingernails caked with dirt, and hummed. Katora’s alto was slightly out of tune, but Kylene’s soprano rang in perfect pitch. Bhar’s solid bass completed the trio. Their melody pierced the silent forest and rose to the top of the trees and beyond. A gust of wind swirled through the clearing, lifting their cloaks in the air behind them.

Katora’s eyes widened as Kylene’s hand gripped hers tight. Bhar turned his face to the sky. Katora felt her hair fly about her face as she watched Kylene’s locks do the same. Still, they kept humming. When their tune finally ended, the wind abruptly stopped.

A long sigh escaped Katora, deflating the pressure in her chest. Nothing like that had ever happened during the ceremony.

“What was that?” Kylene asked in a whisper.

“A coincidence,” Bhar said with no trace of his playful smile.

Katora pounded her fist on the ground. “That was no coincidence. I’ve always been a bit skeptical that the Great Mother paid any attention to our little ceremony. But now…I believe she does.”

“Yes.” Kylene nodded her head repeatedly. “I always believed she did, but this is a nice confirmation of our faith.”

Bhar blew into his hands. “I’m cold. Let’s go home and heat up some milk and chocolate.”

Kylene’s brow wrinkled as she said, “It is cold. And we must be home before dark.”

“I’ll catch up with you two.” Katora gathered up the pack and waited as her siblings left the clearing.

Kylene's soft teasing of Bhar about his offering could be heard through the trees. “What is Mother Nature going to do with a playing card?”

“More than she’s going to do with a book,” Bhar said. “Definitely more than she’ll do with an essenberry vine. Katora’s offering was the worst.” Kylene laughed at the joke as their voices faded away.

Even with no one there to hear her, Katora was compelled to defend her choice. Every essenberry vine on Kase Farm was a gift from Mother Nature. The vines provided a means of wealth, and therefore survival, for the family. She said a silent prayer to the Great Mother, thanking her for all that she did to take care of them.

Just as she stepped back into the trees, Katora spotted a small bluebird perched high up on a leafless branch. Its beady eyes stared down at her. The bird opened its beak wide and let out one sharp chirp.

“You coming?” Bhar’s shout echoed through the forest.

She glanced back up at the oak tree, but the bird had vanished. As she jogged to catch up, Katora felt Mother Nature’s presence. It wasn’t only in the physical bounty of the forest, but also deep inside Katora’s own heart. She breathed deep and the winter air felt fresh instead of cold.

***

Want to read more about the Kase siblings and their adventures in Faway Forest? Check out Katie's YA fantasy ELIXIR BOUND.

Katie L. Carroll is a mother, writer, editor, and speaker. She began writing at a very sad time in her life after her 16-year-old sister, Kylene, unexpectedly passed away. Since then writing has taken her to many wonderful places, real and imagined. She wrote her YA fantasy ELIXIR BOUND so Kylene could live on in the pages of a book. Katie is also the author of the picture app THE BEDTIME KNIGHT and a contributor to THE GREAT CT CAPER, a serialized mystery for young readers. She lives not too far from the beach in a small Connecticut city with her husband and sons. For more about Katie, visit her website at www.katielcarroll.com.

The Casting Couch on #LQR

This is the day we usually put a #LQR author in the spotlight, but we've already subjected all of our authors to the magnifying glass so now we're going to have some fun by getting to know their books a little better. We asked our authors if they were to don the cap of casting agent for one of their books, who would they sign to play the top roles?

First up Dianne Hartsock says of her psychological thriller, Alex (available on Amazon)

Anton Yelchin as Alex because he did such a great job as Odd Thomas.

Emma Watson as Jane because Jane needs a strong woman to do her justice.

Sean Bean as Jack Gibson because he can do evil so well.

---

Next is Stuart West. He's casting his murder mystery Secret Society of Like Minded Individuals

Let's see...as my conflicted serial killer with a heart of gold anti-hero, Leon Garber, I would definitely cast Donald Trump. Yeah...that feels right. I want to see his hair perform like I know it can. As Cody Spangler, the hot-headed, troubled, hipster serial killer antagonist, I see Sean Penn. Just with lots and lots of Botox, blurry filters and youthful make-up. 

I'll give you all a moment to stop laughing...

---

Now, we have Crystal Collier who is too picky to settle for specific actors/actresses, but will give us some eye candy to introduce us to characters from her young adult fantasy, Moonless

Alexia is a determined young woman, a bit against the grain (especially for her era) who challenges the dark and fears that the man of her dreams is more of a nightmare.

Kiren carries the weight of the world and is never far ahead or behind the shadowy wraiths known as the Soulless.

Bellezza has no qualms with killing or initiating a war to get what she wants, and she especially enjoys head games.

---

Katie Carroll is tempting us with the cast for her young adult fantasy, Elixir Bound

It would be awesome to have real live sisters Dakota and Elle Fanning play fictional sisters Katora and Kylene Kase, respectively. They have just the look I imagined for the Kase sisters, right down to the younger sister being taller than the older one!

---

If contemporary romance is more your style, Meg Gray offers her ideal cast for her holiday romance Something To Remember.

I would cast Olivia Wilde as Ava because she'd completely nail the big-city attitude of the character. As my leading man Lane, I would cast Chris Pine, because I can only imagine how good he'd look in flannel. And finally as Mama Hart, I cast Meredith Baxter because she's one of my favorite actresses when it comes to holiday specials.

---

What do you say #LQR readers? Any of your favorite actors in the mix? What are some of your favorite books that you'd like to see made into movies?

Thanks for the Smoke by Katie L. Carroll

Chuck was down to one or two cigarettes a day and about to give up on the whole damn idea of trying to quit. It was hardest first thing in the morning and in the evening after dinner. There was just nothing to keep his hands occupied during those times. Emma, his niece, gave him the idea that kept him on track.

He had tried to quit cold turkey a couple of weeks before Emma’s fifth birthday. It had been going okay. Sure he had been grumpy most of the day, and he'd been drinking beer with dinner every night, but he hadn’t been smoking. Then he went to his sister’s house for Emma’s party where his brother-in-law produced a bunch of stogies.

Chuck thought, “Why not? It’s not a cigarette.”

So when the guys went out to the front yard to smoke, Chuck joined them. Boy was that a big mistake. After he inhaled his first unsatisfying puff, all he could think about was the taste of a cigarette on his lips.

He began to wonder why he had quit in the first place. Sure there was the whole lung cancer and emphysema aspect, but it sure as hell wasn’t helping his attitude or his physique. He had already gained ten pounds. Chuck was wondering if he still had a pack of cigarettes in the glove compartment of his truck when his niece ran up to him.

“Uncle Charlie, will you come and blow bubbles with me?” she asked.

As he sat there with the sticky solution running down his arm and the taste of soap in his mouth, Chuck felt better than he had in weeks…maybe years. On his way home that night, he stopped at a toy store and bought out its entire stock of bubbles. They were great for when he was at home in his apartment. He would sit out on his front steps and just blow bubbles, watching them float. Some popped right away and others went so high up he never saw them burst. They were a harmless vice, except they didn’t work in every situation.

Like tonight when he was out with his buddy Dave. They went to a bar downtown. He was okay for a while, drinking a couple of beers and watching the baseball game on the big screen. Then he spotted a cute woman smoking by herself on the outdoor patio. That had been another reason why he had decided to quit: that law banning smoking indoors in public places, forcing those with the habit outside. He didn’t like feeling like an outcast. Being part of a group was one thing that had attracted him to smoking in the first place when it seemed like everyone he knew smoked. But not anymore.

He pointed the woman out to Dave.

“You should go ask her for a cigarette,” Dave said.

“But I’m trying to quit.”

Dave punched him on the arm and called him a not-so-nice word for the female anatomy, enough motivation for him to walk out to the patio.

“Can I bum a cigarette off you?” he asked.

“Sure,” the woman said, eyeing him. “I was just starting to think that I was the only smoker in this place.”

She looked to be in her mid thirties, at least five years younger than Chuck, but she wasn’t wearing a ring. He figured he’d give it a shot.

“I’m trying to quit,” he admitted.

“My friends are all trying to quit, too,” she said. “None of them could stand being out here with me.”

She pulled a box of slim cigarettes out of her purse. Chuck cringed at having to waste a smoke on one of those—they were barely even worth the breath used to inhale them—but it was a sacrifice he was hoping would pay off. He managed to accept the cigarette without grimacing, but he thought he saw a glint in the woman’s eye when she lit it for him.

“I’m Chuck Testa,” he said after his first drag.

“I’m Linda, Linda Blake,” she said.

He held his free hand out to shake hers and she obliged. They talked while they smoked. He found out that she ran a daycare center. He told her he customized cars for a living. His uncle owned the business, but he was hoping to buy in as an owner soon. He mentioned Emma and the bubbles, his face burning hot from embarrassment, but Linda ate it up.

“That’s adorable!” she exclaimed. Then she took the last puff of her cigarette and snuffed it out in the ashtray.

Chuck squished out the rest of his. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Sure.”

He held the door for her and followed her into the bar. Dave gave Chuck a sideways smile when he saw Linda. Chuck steered her to the opposite side of the bar. Linda gave a little wave to a table with three women at it, her friend he supposed. She surprised him by ordering a beer.

“Make that two,” he said to the bartender.

He turned to Linda. “A woman that drinks beer and smokes slims. I’m confused.”

“I grew up with three brothers,” she said. “I got to liking the taste of beer, so I decided to smoke something a little more feminine to make up for it.”

They talked for over an hour. It was easy talking to her. She like that he worked with his hands for a living. She called it “real blue-collar work.” Then one of her friends came over.

“Linda,” she said. “We’re ready to go.”

“Oh, hey Sheri,” Linda said. “This is Chuck. Chuck, this is Sheri.”

“Great,” Sheri said, ignoring the hand he held out to her. “Are you ready?”

“I guess,” Linda answered.

She pulled her phone from her purse and asked Chuck for his number. Shortly after he recited it, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

“That’s from me, so you have my number.” She produced another slim and handed it to him. “One last one on me. Then that’s it, right?”

Chuck nodded. “Bubbles are better anyway.”

She giggled. “Yeah. Hey, thanks for the beer.”

“No problem.” He held up the phone. “Thanks for this. And for the smoke.” He watched her walk out before going back to sit with Dave for the end of the game.

On his way home, Chuck lit up the slim. It tasted terrible, but he sucked on it gratefully, thinking of Linda’s lips the whole time. It was the last cigarette he ever smoked, but it was not the last time he saw Linda.

***

Katie L. Carroll is a mother, writer, editor, and speaker. She began writing at a very sad time in her life after her 16-year-old sister, Kylene, unexpectedly passed away. Since then writing has taken her to many wonderful places, real and imagined. She wrote her YA fantasy ELIXIR BOUND so Kylene could live on in the pages of a book. Katie is also the author of the picture app THE BEDTIME KNIGHT and a contributor to THE GREAT CT CAPER, a serialized mystery for young readers. She lives not too far from the beach in a small Connecticut city with her husband and sons. For more about Katie, visit her website at www.katielcarroll.com.

Guardian Angel by Katie L. Carroll

The strange whooshing sound would have woken Serafina if she had been asleep. But she never slept well when her parents were out for the night. At the age of 16, she was far too old to be scared of the dark, but that didn’t keep her from leaving the TV on in her room all night long, door closed tight against the world.

At first Sera thought the sound was from the TV, which droned on in the background while she read in bed. She had avoided the psychological thriller on her nightstand in favor of a romance novel because she was in the mood for something light, or so she told herself.

She muted the TV and titled her ear toward the bedroom door. “Whoosh…whoosh.  Whoosh…whoosh.” It was muted and slow, like it was coming from outside.

I wish Addie had been able to stay over tonight, Sera thought as she played with the silver cross around her neck.

Instead her best friend had ditched her for a date. Understandable—Sera would have done the same if the roles had been reversed—but she could have used the company.

Underarms damp with sweat, she threw off the covers and slipped out of bed, her bare feet sticking loudly with each step on the laminate floor. The door opened in silence, and Sera barely breathed. She clutched the molding and peeked down the hall.

“Whoosh, whoosh. Whoosh, whoosh.” It was louder than before, and coming at a more rapid pace.

Down the other end of the small ranch house, light spilled from the kitchen doorway. Sera’s heart thumped in her chest; she hadn’t left on any lights aside from the one in her room.

Maybe my parents are home early, she wondered…she hoped.

But then she would have heard the groan of the old garage door. Surely they would have come to check on her by now. Or at least the sound of them having a nightcap would be floating down the hallway instead of the “whoosh, whoosh” that continued to grow louder and faster.

An unearthly breeze blew back her hair and tickled the tiny hairs on her arm, raising goose bumps all over her body. Oddly, the cross felt hot against her cold skin.

She should call 911, but she had left her phone charging in the kitchen. Car headlights reflected off the Yankees poster on her wall. She stood perfectly still until the lights disappeared. It was probably just a neighbor. Lucky for her, the poster reminded her of the souvenir bat she had gotten at the last game she had gone to.

Sera’s sweaty hands fumbled around her closet for the bat. Her foot bumped into something hard, and the bat clattered to the floor. Her body tensed, but the sound from the kitchen was much louder than any noise she was making.

“Whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh.”

She peeked down the hallway again to find the light blazing and a stormy wind sweeping through the house. A streak of anger bolstered her as she gripped the bat tight in her hands.

How dare someone break into her house? she thought and made the snap decision to confront the intruder, damned be the consequences.

Disregarding any pretense at being quiet or stealthy, Sera marched down the hall. Her heart rate wasn’t the only thing that increased with each step as the sound was now coming at an alarming pace. Hair blew all around her face in a crazy swirl.

Sera brought the bat over her head and charged into the kitchen.

“Whooshwhoosh whooshwhoosh.”

The light exploded in her eyes, forcing them closed. The whooshing sound rang out so loud it reverberated through her teeth and bones. Sera fell to the ground and threw the bat into the light, but it was lost to the brightness.

“Whooshwhooshwhooshwhoosh.”

A shadow broke through the light. It moved up and down with the noise, and seemed be the source of the light.

Sera groped around the floor, looking for anything that might help her. The cross burned the skin just above her chest. Ripping the chain from her neck, she flung the necklace at the figure.

“Whooshwhoo—”

The kitchen turned dark and silent. The brief stint of bravery gone, Sera remained on the floor, stunned by the sudden change. Her chest heaved up and down and began to calm. A cheesy sitcom laugh-track broke her out of the stupor.

She stood and as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she spied a woman on the ground a few feet away. Sera stepped into the kitchen. Moonlight from the back slider illuminated the woman’s features. They were so beautiful an ache rose in Sera’s chest as she stared.

Pale, almost see-through wings framed the woman’s figure—no, not a woman. An angel.

The shattering of glass ripped Sera’s gaze from the stunning face. A man careened through the broken glass, grabbed Sera, and held a knife to her throat. The angel vanished and Sera was left alone with the intruder.

***

Katie L. Carroll is a mother, writer, editor, and speaker. She began writing at a very sad time in her life after her 16-year-old sister, Kylene, unexpectedly passed away. Since then writing has taken her to many wonderful places, real and imagined. She wrote her YA fantasy ELIXIR BOUND so Kylene could live on in the pages of a book. Katie is also the author of the picture app THE BEDTIME KNIGHT and a contributor to THE GREAT CT CAPER, a serialized mystery for young readers. She lives not too far from the beach in a small Connecticut city with her husband and sons. For more about Katie, visit her website at www.katielcarroll.com.

Tales from the Field: Mac’s Ultimate Prank by Katie L. Carroll

Central High women’s soccer team: schooling the boys’ team on the field since 2012. Now it’s time to school them off the field.

I mute the music and kill the lights on my mom’s SUV, packed full of my teammates, as we approach our rival school, Valley High. The speedometer hovers below 20 mph. A block away from the school, I park behind a beat-up sedan, also packed full of soccer players.

Malcolm, the captain of the boys’ team (yes, I said boys, not men…because no high school guy is actually a man), leans against his car, his dreadlocks peeking out from under a black winter hat. We’re all dressed in black to blend in with the October night. Megan and I slip out of the SUV to talk strategy with him.

“Mac. Megan,” he whispers in greeting, his breath puffing in the cold air. We’re not close enough to the school to be heard by anyone there, but we’re not taking any chances of talking loudly and disturbing the neighborhood. “You ladies ready for this?”

“We were born ready,” I say before Megan can answer. She’s our captain and the boss on the soccer field, but I’m in charge tonight.

The thing is every year the Central High women’s soccer team has a better record than the boys’ team. And it goes without saying (though I’m going to say it) that we look a helluva lot better out on the field than they do.

But there is one thing the boys’ team is better at than us: they always pull the best Dog Day Eve prank. So this year (my senior—and final—year), I’m determined to one up them by stealing Benji the Bulldog, Valley’s mascot. And I’ve come up with a brilliant plan.

It’s a brilliant because there’s little fear of retaliation. Our mascot is also a dog (a husky), but unlike Valley’s bulldog, our husky isn’t real. The dog is a costume worn by the gym teacher. (It used to be worn by a student until two years ago when there was an unfortunate incident with a bare bottom underneath said costume. Both hilarious and gross!)

From my pocket, I pull out a drawing of the school and a flashlight. I point to the bus drop-off circle. “This is where we park. It’s easy in/easy out. They keep Benji in the janitor’s office until the night janitor takes him home around ten p.m. I’ve got dog treats to keep him quiet.” I add as an afterthought, “For the dog, not the janitor.”

Malcolm stifles a laugh. “How many are going in?”

“Four of us. Me, Megan, you, and whoever you want to take.”

“Jimmy’s my wingman.”

I make a snap decision. “Okay. The four of us will take your car up to the circle. Everyone else can wait here.” My mom will kill me if I get dog hair (or worse) all over her SUV.

Malcolm ducks his head into window and in true clown-car fashion an impossible number of boys file out of the tiny sedan. I tell them they’re not going to fit in my car and they can wait outside.

While Malcolm chats up Addison (who we all call Hunter) in my front seat, I flip my car keys to Denise (my best friend), who is squished into the very back with Sadie and Paloma. “You’re in charge until I get back. No boys allowed inside.”

She ducks low and makes her way to the front. “Got it.”

I let Malcolm drive up to the school (only because it’s a stick and I don’t know how to drive one) and we park at the end of the drop-off circle for a quick getaway.

I’m about to get out, when from the backseat Megan locks my shoulder in a death-grip. “Wait, MacKenzie. You never told me how we’re supposed to get in. It’s after hours, way after hours. All the doors are locked. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner.”

Before she can spiral further into panic (any sense of unpreparedness makes Megan slightly crazy), I pry her hand away. “I’ve got it under control. My cousin’s boyfriend goes to Valley. He spilled a bunch of chemicals in the photo lab and convinced the teacher to leave a window open to air it out.”

Next to Megan, Jimmy lets out a long whistle, clearly impressed by my prank skills. He has no idea how long I’ve been planning this.

“Let’s do this,” I say, and then we’re out of the car and creeping around the school to the photo lab’s, which is in fact cracked open (I barely refrain from shouting with joy that my boyfriend’s cousin has come through for me).

Between the hushed whispers and the squeak of the window being pushed farther open, we’re making way more noise than we should. I make another executive decision.

“Only two of us go in. The other two wait outside and stand watch.” I didn’t want the boys involved at all (so they can’t try and steal all the credit for the prank), but no one on my team could take Benji overnight and Malcolm agreed to do it.

“Me,” Megan says. “I’ll go with Mac.”

“No way,” Malcolm argues. “It should be me. I’m the one housing the dog tonight.”

Before a real argument breaks out and blows up my whole plan, I shush them. “Malcolm comes. Megan and Jimmy wait outside.” Maybe I should have been captain of the team (not really, too much responsibility).

Amazingly we sneak down several hallways to the janitor’s office and find it empty except for Benji. I slip a couple of dog treats to him and open the dog crate. I swear he smiles (though bulldogs always kind of look like they’re grinning) and attempts a leap with his stubby legs. But he’s quiet.

Malcolm grabs him around the middle and we take off in a jog back to the photo lab. That’s when all hell breaks loose! As Malcolm is passing Benji through the open window Jimmy, the dog starts barking, and barking, and barking. Benji squiggles in Jimmy’s arms, and Jimmy swears, loudly.

We sprint toward the car, but by the time we reach the front of the school, lights are turning on inside. Jimmy practically throws the still-barking Benji into the car and we all pile in. Malcolm guns it out of the driveway.

Megan screams, “Slow down! We’ll get caught. We’ve gotta look inconspicuous.”

Malcolm decelerates the car to a normal speed. I stuff the last remaining treats into Benji’s mouth, and he finally calms down.

A squad car rushes past, no lights or sirens (but definitely in a hurry). Malcolm puts his blinker on to turn down the street where we left everyone else, but I direct him to head to the mall. I’ve resigned myself to letting all those boys into my mom’s SUV and text Denise to meet us there. (No way am I staying so close to Valley High with the contraband.)

At the mall, the guys and Benji head off with Malcolm and I start the long process of taking all my teammates home. My hands are still shaking with adrenaline as I take the wheel.

Megan recounts what happened and the atmosphere in the car is giddy with the excitement that we pulled of such a great prank. Swallowing back the lump of nerves in my throat, I join the celebration by blasting loud, brain-cell killing music. 

At home, I crash hard and wake up late. All day I can’t shake the butterflies wrecking havoc on my system. I tell myself that I’m just excited about the final phase of the prank tonight at half-time of the football game.

I pick up Denise and Megan and we head to our school for the football game (the football players never come to our games so we make of point of not attending theirs, but we have a special reason for attending tonight).

We sit with a bunch of our teammates and players from the boys’ team. Megan has forbidden anyone from talking about what we did last night. Those of us who were part of the prank keep shooting glances at each other. The high-fiving and giggling are rampant. Malcolm gives me a nod and heads out of the stands. It's almost time!

The half-time whistle blows and the anticipation in our section of the stands is palpable. Before the cheerleaders can take the field for their annual mid-game exhibition, a tennis ball is thrown at the 50-yard line (I bribed a freshman to do this without knowing why she was doing it). Benji (strategically released by Malcolm from the cover of the trees on the far end of the field), dressed in Central’s red and white colors, trots to the ball.

A cry of fury breaks out in the Valley stands as they realize the dog is their mascot. Our fans whoop and holler with glee. One of Valley’s cheerleading coaches scoops up Benji and stands in the middle of the field as if waiting for instructions on what to do. I think my sides are going to split I’m laughing so hard.

I bask in the triumph of a well-executed prank for one full minute before a heavy hand falls on my shoulder. All those butterflies that have been hanging in my stomach threaten to come out of my mouth.

I look up to find the vice principle staring down at me, her mouth closed in a harsh line of anger. Her other hand is pressed firmly to Megan’s shoulder. Megan sends daggers my way (she might be angrier than the vice principle). The boys’ soccer coach is already escorting Jimmy down the stands.

“You two need to come with me,” the vice principle says.

Best prank of all-time: accomplished. Punishment for my crimes: to be determined (but all signs point to something severe). Maybe I should have left the pranking up to the boys’ team this year.

***

Check out the other Tales From the Field here! 

Katie L. Carroll is a mother, writer, editor, speaker, and soccer player. She began writing at a very sad time in her life after her 16-year-old sister, Kylene, unexpectedly passed away. Since then writing has taken her to many wonderful places, real and imagined. She wrote her YA fantasy ELIXIR BOUND so Kylene could live on in the pages of a book. Katie is also the author of the picture app THE BEDTIME KNIGHT and a contributor to THE GREAT CT CAPER, a serialized mystery for young readers. She lives not too far from the beach in a small Connecticut city with her husband and sons. For more about Katie, visit her website at www.katielcarroll.com.

Tales from the Field: Paloma’s Night Out by Katie L. Carroll

Two rival schools plus two dog mascots equals one crazy prank night.

“Paloma!” My name echoes off the lockers and down the nearly empty hallway. My teammate Sadie catches up to me and hooks her arm into mine. “You in for Dog Day Eve?”

“Huh?” I say. English may be my second language, but I’m pretty sure Sadie isn’t speaking it right now, or maybe she’s referring to some American holiday I don’t know about.

“Dog Day Eve,” she repeats, not making any more sense than the first time she said it. “The night before the football game against Valley High.”

“We don’t have a game tomorrow.” Moving to a new country the summer before sophomore year has left my social calendar very light, so I memorized the game and practice schedules after I made the varsity team at Central High School. We’ve already played our rivals, Valley High, and aren’t scheduled to play them again.

“Not futbol,” she corrects me, “American football.”

I suppose I’ll never get used to calling the sport I play soccer and a sport in which the foot is hardly used football.

“Yes, of course, football.” I’m careful to adjust my pronunciation of the last word. “Why does that involve a dog?” The term “pigskin” gave me some confusion the first time I watched a football game until someone told me it referred to the ball, so perhaps there is some kind of dog term in the game as well.

She giggles and arm-in-arm pulls me down the hallway toward her locker.

“It doesn’t. Well, it might this year.” A mischievous grin lights up her face as she looks sideways at me. “The day of the Central/Valley game is called Dog Day. You know, because we’re the huskies and they’re the bulldogs,” she explains because clearly I don’t know. “It’s a tradition the night before the big football game to pull a prank on Valley, and they always pull one on us.”

We stop at her locker and she quickly spins the dial and opens it. School has been out for hours, but after practice I had to come back to my locker for a book. I guess Sadie forgot something, too.

“So this year Megan and Malcolm,” she looks over at me and adds, “he’s the captain of the guys’ team, the soccer team, not football.” I’m from Spain, not stupid, but given my earlier confusion, I forgive her for over-explaining in this case. “Anyway, they decided we’re going to pull the best prank ever on Valley High.”

My eyes widen. “What are you going to do?” That doesn't sound anything like what my friends and I would do for fun back home.

For a moment, I’m lost in a memory from about a month before we moved. I was riding the metro with my friends to the stadium to watch FC Barcelona play. We were munching on strawberry-flavored candy and laughing—I remember lots of laughing, but not much about the match.

“We,” Sadie interrupts my thoughts. Her locker is shut and a black jacket is draped across her arm. “You’re coming, right?”

“I don’t know.” I’m eager for a night out that doesn’t involve a long dinner with my parents. I don’t think my father will give me a ride anywhere tonight, and my mother doesn’t have a license—she didn’t need one when we lived in Barcelona.

“Mac’s got room in her car. We’ll come and get you. Be ready by seven.”

Pranking sounds fun but possibly dangerous, and certainly not an activity my father would approve of. “I’m not sure my parents will let me.”

“Tell them it’s a team thing. Trust me, this is going to be epic. You don’t want to miss it.” I nod hesitantly. She checks her phone. “I gotta run.” Heading down the hallway, she yells over her shoulder, “Make sure to wear black!”

A couple of hours later, I’m in the living room with my parents, all of us anxiously awaiting the arrival of my teammates. My mom sits on the edge of the couch, and my dad stands at the big front window, staring out into the night.

I’m clad in black jeans and my FC Barcelona jersey. To avoid raising my parents’ suspicions, I keep my black hooded sweatshirt on my lap, ready to be zipped over the bright shirt once I leave. On my feet are my indoor soccer shoes, which I hate to wear outside, but they’re the only black shoes I own besides my boots—cleats here in America.

My mother glances at the clock. “They’re late.” It’s 7:05 p.m., but being even a minute late is rude according to her.

“They’ll be here.” I hope.

It’s silent except for the tick-tock of the antique clock my mom brought on her carry-on, not trusting anyone else to transport the family heirloom and relic from pre World War II. The honk of a horn sounds outside.

I hop out of my seat and stand beside my dad to look out the window. A black SUV sits at the curb, and I recognize it as Mac’s mom’s car. “That’s them,” I say to him.

“They’re not coming to the door,” he says like he can’t believe it. “I don’t like this, Paloma.”

Of all my friends back in Spain, I had the strictest parents, but they’ve lightened up slightly since moving me across the world.

“They don’t do that here. Please,” I beg, “just let me go. They’re my teammates. You know them.”

He looks to my mother, who waves her hand and says, “Let her go. I suppose we’ll have to get used to this.”

“You may go,” he relents. “But don’t forget your toque de queda.”

“I won’t forget my curfew,” I say. “Ten o’ clock.”

I run out the front door before he changes his mind. The SUV is packed. Mac, of course, is driving, and Addison Hunter, who has a broken ankle, is in the front passenger seat. Megan and our goalie Olivia take up the middle seats. I squeeze into the very back with Sadie and Denise, a fellow defender for the team.

My parents’ stern figures are silhouetted in the window as Mac squeals away from the house. I swallow and quickly buckle my seatbelt. She turns up the music, a night-club type base rumbling through the car.

“Where are we going?” I yell to Sadie.

She bounces her head to the music, a crazy grin on her face. “Valley High!” She pumps a fist in the air.

“Why?” I ask.

Megan turns in her seat. “We’re kidnapping Benji the Bulldog!”

Mac drives onto the entrance ramp and guns it up to the highway. Back pressed against the leather seat, a chill of excitement shoots through me. Like Sadie said, Dog Day Eve is going to be epic!

***

Don't miss all of Central High women's Tales From the Field here! 

Katie L. Carroll is a mother, writer, editor, and soccer player. She began writing at a very sad time in her life after her 16-year-old sister, Kylene, unexpectedly passed away. Since then writing has taken her to many wonderful places, real and imagined. She wrote her YA fantasy ELIXIR BOUND so Kylene could live on in the pages of a book. Katie is also the author of the picture app THE BEDTIME KNIGHT and a contributor to THE GREAT CT CAPER, a serialized mystery for young readers. She lives not too far from the beach in a small Connecticut city with her husband and sons. For more about Katie, visit her website at www.katielcarroll.com.

Tales From the Field: Olivia's Redemption by Katie L. Carroll

(See part 1 of this story “Olivia’s Camp Fail” here.)

To free yourself from guilt you must forgive yourself.

The game is about to start. The strategizing, the pep talks, the warm-ups are done. My stomach is a pit of tingling nerves, the good kind, the ones that keep my reflexes sharp. I let out a long exhale, my breath smoking in the cool evening air. Our undefeated season is on the line tonight.

My ten teammates line up in front of me, their white home uniforms bright under the lights. I clap my goalie gloves together and stare down our gold-clad rivals, the Valley High women’s soccer team.

Time to get in the zone.

For some inexplicable reason, I glance into the stands, the side where the Valley fans sit. It takes me right out of the game. Marco. He’s here. I knew he would be, but seeing him is worse than I imagined. The tingling, game-ready nerves turn to anxious, stomach-twisting ones.

Marco, of course surrounded by his entourage of teammates from the Valley High boys’ team, stands down by the fence separating the field from the stands. He faces the crowd, his back to me, thank God. I don’t think I could handle seeing his chipped-tooth smile right now. He’s wearing the blues of the Italian National Team, not the Valley High black and gold. Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe our kiss at camp this summer actually meant something to him.

Then I remember him cheering on his schoolmate as she sprinted to the ball, my hesitation, the ball bouncing off her foot and over the goal line. The shame of losing the camp championship for my team, all because of some stupid boy, creeps up my face in a blush.

Megan, the team captain, hisses, “Olivia, you ready?” The referee is waving her hand, trying to get my attention.

Can’t think about Marco right now. The game is about to start!

I wave to let the referee know I’m ready. She signals to the other goalie, who quickly shakes a gloved hand. Everyone is anxious to start the game. I better get my head on straight.

My team came ready to play and quickly takes possession of the ball. Watching them pass and dribble around the other team and listening to the roar of the crowd as Brooke puts a shot on goal that the goalie has to stretch all the way out to save grounds me in the game.

I’m back in the zone.

We take control of the tempo of the game, but the score is 0-0 as the minutes tick closer to the end of the first half. I have yet to be tested when the ball arcs over our defensive line. A Valley forward, the Valley forward who scored the winning goal at camp, darts to the ball. I charge to the top of the 18-yard box and beat her to it.

I boot the ball over the half-line and the referee lets out two short blasts on the whistle to signal the end of the first half.

Like a magnet to metal my gaze zooms toward Marco. He’s staring right at me. The field lights are behind him, so his face is slightly shadowed and unreadable. Though he does lift his hand above the chain-link fence and offers a little wave.

To me? I glance around to see all my teammates are already on the sidelines. I’m the only one still dumbly standing on the field. So, yeah, the tiny wave must be for me.

I shake my head and sprint to the bench before Megan can yell at me again. I yell at myself instead. Head in the game, Olivia!

My teammates greet me with pats on the shoulder and it pops my bubble of distraction.

Sadie, a big grin on her face, shakes my shoulders. “Great grab.” Then so only I can hear, she whispers, “Did you see him?”

I bite the inside of my lower lip and shake my head. I can’t talk about it, not even with her. I’m already struggling to keep the lump in my throat from choking me, and I would totally die of embarrassment if I cried on the soccer field.

Sadie senses my struggle and elbows me in the side. “There’s no crying in soccer, right?”

I nod and suck down some water, listening to Megan’s half-time ramblings. It’s part pep talk, part critique of all the thing we did wrong in the first half, and full-on passionate. No one matches her level of intensity, but we all huddle in and there’s a gleam in each one of my teammate’s eyes.

“No ties today,” Megan says. “We win this one.”

We put our hands in and on three we yell, “Win!”

I jog out to my place in goal, thankful that the switch of sides means Marco and his friends are down the other end where I can’t make out their features.

Valley High comes out strong. They pass the ball past the midfield and get a shot off, but it sails high over the crossbar. “Field goal!” I hear from our side of the crowd, probably someone from our guys’ team mocking the bad shot. It brings a smile of confidence to my face.

Megan shouts at Denise, one of our defenders, for letting her player take the shot. I catch Denise’s gaze and shake my hands to let her know it was no big deal. Even if it had been on goal, no way would I have let a shot from that far go in.

After that we get back into the rhythm of our game. Valley sends a few more shots my way, but nothing I can’t handle. On a goal kick, I send the ball up to Brooke on offense. She passes it back to Haley at midfield, who kicks the ball past Valley’s defense. Tight pressure from Brooke forces the defender to kick the ball out, giving us a corner kick.

Haley curves a beauty of a kick in toward the goal. Mac, the tallest player on our team, charges in and heads the ball. Goal!

“Ten minutes left!” Megan yells to all of us.

Valley’s in panic mode now, frantically kicking the ball around, which allows us to regain possession. We pass it around, the minutes ticking off the clock. Mac dribbles the ball into our offensive corner and plays around with it there, burning more time.

The shrill of three sharp blasts on the whistle ends the game without Valley ever getting the ball back.

Megan jumps up and down, shouting, “We won! We won! We won!”

The team surrounds her, everyone hugging and congratulating Mac for scoring the game winner. Haley gets her share of the accolades for the assist. We won, and I didn’t screw up, but I can’t seem to enjoy the moment. I stand to the side, a haze settling over me. I force a smile and half-heartedly celebrate with the team, doing my best not to show my indifference.

What is wrong with me? Will I ever be free of the guilt from losing my team the camp championship?

As the fans disperse, my teammates and I take off our cleats and shin guards and throw on warmer clothes. A cold, autumn drizzle begins to fall. It fits my sullen mood. Sadie stands over me as I pack up my things.

“You need a ride?” she asks. “My dad’s waiting in the car.”

“Nah.” I shrug. “My mom let me take the van.” It’s a hideous old minivan, but I don’t care so long as it’s something I can drive by myself. I need the alone time right now.

Sadie doesn’t leave. “You okay?”

I look up and try to smile but my lip quivers. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Marco’s an idiot,” she says, which makes me laugh. “No one cares who wins the summer camp championship. And we won this time when it really counts.” She hesitates, like she has something important to tell me, but only says, “See you tomorrow at practice.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” I say quietly, but she’s already disappeared into the darkness beyond the lights. The rain has forced everyone to make a quick exit. The stands are empty and I’m the only one left on the field.

I spot my lucky water bottle where I left it by the goal. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I jog over to retrieve it. I’m staring out over the field, unsuccessfully trying to be excited about beating our rivals and keeping our unbeaten streak alive, when a husky voice from behind startles me.

“Good game.” I don’t have to turn around to know it’s Marco. The scent of his cologne reaches me before he does. His shoes squeak on the turf as she walks around the goal to stand in front of me. His hair is especially slick-looking. I squint, the light bouncing off the tiny mist droplets shrouding the field. I can barely breathe with him this close.

Undeterred by my silence, he goes on. “You’re team played well. That was a nice goal on the corner kick.”

I turn to leave, utter, “I have to go.”

He grabs my hand, says, “Wait. Please.” It’s the please that catches me, holds me in place, just like last time. Cocky Marco using manners always catches me by surprise.

“What?” I demand, all attitude. Burn me once, shame on you. Burn me twice, shame on me.

“I never got a chance to explain,” he says, which is true. He tried to talk to me that last day of camp, but my teammates protected me, wouldn’t let him get close. “I got caught up in the moment.”

“It’s fine.” My brief moment of bravery is gone, the lump in my throat back. Our kiss was more than getting caught up in a moment for me, but clearly it’s time for me to move on, for real this time. “We shouldn’t have kissed. It was silly.”

“No.” He smiles, never self-conscious of his chipped tooth…or anything really. “I didn’t mean our kiss. The cheering. I got caught up cheering for the team. I didn’t mean to make you miss the save.”

“Oh.” I don’t know what else to say. Not until I hear him say it, do I realize that all these months since camp, I’ve been hoping it was somehow a misunderstanding. That our night together was special and meaningful.

He nervously rubs the back of his head, and I think maybe I was wrong to think he couldn’t be self-conscious. “Do you want to go out sometime?”

My heart is in my throat, competing with the lump for space. “Like on a date?”

“Yeah. Maybe to a movie…or something.” His normally oversized ego is a deflated balloon as he waits for me to answer.

I take in the scene around me. The field and stands are empty now, but I’m picturing them full and loud as we win the state championship. I need the freedom, the space, to be focused on this one goal. I can’t afford any distractions right now.

“Sure,” I say. “But not until the season is over.”

The balloon is back at full capacity; even a sort-of yes can’t touch his ego. “Great. Can I have your number?”

“No.” His smile falters. “But you can give me yours.” I program his number into my phone.

Before he leaves, he takes my hand. “I’m expecting a call as soon as you win that championship.”

I just shake my head and laugh as he runs off, presumably to brag to his buddies about our future date. As I start up the old minivan engine, I feel more focused than I’ve felt all season. Camp is in the past, and I’m looking forward to play-offs and a run at the championship. And after that, who knows…I think I will call Marco and go on a date. What do I have to lose?

***

Don't miss all of Central High women's Tales From the Field here! 

Katie L. Carroll is a mother, writer, editor, and soccer player. She began writing at a very sad time in her life after her 16-year-old sister, Kylene, unexpectedly passed away. Since then writing has taken her to many wonderful places, real and imagined. She wrote her YA fantasy ELIXIR BOUND so Kylene could live on in the pages of a book. Katie is also the author of the picture app THE BEDTIME KNIGHT and a contributor to THE GREAT CT CAPER, a serialized mystery for young readers. She lives not too far from the beach in a small Connecticut city with her husband and sons. For more about Katie, visit her website at www.katielcarroll.com.

Spotlight on Katie L. Carroll

Today we are spending a little extra time getting to know Lightning Quick Reads author, Katie L. Carroll.

Thanks for hanging out with us today, Katie. Can you tell our readers a little about you, please? 

Katie: I’m a mom first, author second, and then a million other things after that (including but not limited to reader, editor, soccer player, blogger, and tea lover). Most of my days are spent in sweatpants or pajamas, hanging out with my two boys (ages 1 and almost 4) and sneaking in some work when I can. Some things I’ve done that are more exciting than that are vacationed in Tahiti twice (once during a tsunami!), run a marathon in Alaska, and walked the streets of London perusing bookshops. I live not far from the beach in the same small Connecticut city I grew up in.

If you had to pick only one moment that spurred you to write professionally, what moment is the most defining or inciting?

Katie: That’s an easy but tough question. Easy because I know exactly what spurred me into writing professionally; tough because it’s an emotional story to tell. (How much time do you have?) In short, my little sister Kylene very unexpectedly passed away at the age of 16. I was 19 and in college studying to be a physical therapist. The loss forced me to reevaluate what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was write books. Later I realized I wanted to write books for young people. The dedication page of my first published book ELIXIR BOUND reads, “To Kylene. In life you were a sister, friend, and confidant. In death you are a sister, friend, confidant, and muse.”

Wow, Katie. That is very emotional. Thank you for sharing such a personal story with us. Does the majority of your work focus around or within a single theme? If so, what is it?

Katie: Not really. I like to think of myself as more of a renaissance writer than someone who focuses on one area. I work on the story that is burning to get out of me, the one I can’t stop thinking about, no matter what themes or topics or genres it fits into.

What are you currently working on?

Katie: I’m currently working on a very dark YA thriller tentatively called BLACK BUTTERFLY. I just finished a first draft and have a few more scenes to write and some stuff to fix before I send it out to beta readers for feedback. Thematically it deals with whether or not people can really change when given a second chance. I won’t say more than that for now…

What is one of your favorite authorial moments from your career so far?

Katie: My nephew and sister threw me a surprise party the day my first book released. It was small and at my parents’ house, but there was a cake and flowers and a framed book cover. It took a very long time from when I first started writing after my sister died to when I had a book published, so it was really nice to be recognized by the people I love for my accomplishment.

That’s so sweet! Share with us a five year and ten year goal for your writing career.

Katie: I’m constantly working on being a more efficient writer, so my goal is to write quicker, and always to get better at writing. I’d like to find an agent to help me place my work and hopefully be published by a larger house than the ones I’ve already published with. I guess that’s a five-year goal. So much has changed in publishing since I started pursuing publication a little over ten years ago, it’s hard to think that far ahead. I guess I just hope I’m still writing and publishing books (in whatever formats exist) in ten years.

Do you write what you read? Watch? What are your favorite television shows and movies?

Katie: I absolutely write what I read. Aside from writing the type of books I love to read, I think it’s important to know what’s already out there, not to compare your books necessarily, but to see what different directions you can go as a writer and also to push yourself to a new level by being inspired by other works. As for favorite television shows, right now I’m into Big Brother, Suits, Madam Secretary, and Pretty Little Liars (though I kind of have a love/hate relationship with that last one). Favorite movies are lots of Disney ones, The Shawshank Redemption, The Dark Knight, and Bring It On.

If you had one week away from any and all responsibility what would you want to spend your time doing?

Katie: I would totally sit on a tropical beach with a fun, fruity drink reading a book.

Anything else you’d like to add?

Katie: I can kiss my elbow, which I once read makes me a princess!

Lol! A princess, huh? It’s impressive either way. Where can readers find you online?

Katie: You can find me online at my website http://www.katielcarroll.com/, twitter https://twitter.com/KatieLCarroll (@KatieLCarroll), tumblr https://twitter.com/KatieLCarroll, Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6467018.Katie_L_Carroll, and my Amazon Author Page http://www.amazon.com/Katie-L.-Carroll/e/B0094IXK0Q.

Thanks for joining us, Katie and we appreciate your contributions to Lightning Quick Reads!