Thursday, August 12, 2010

Chapter One
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The rope in my hand resembled a noose. "Sorry, pal, it was all I could find."
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The stray doggy with the dewdrop eyes had found me earlier today as I jogged along the shores of Otter Bay while trying to shake off a tough weekend. I slipped the makeshift leash around his skinny neck. It was almost evening and our trot through the woods on the way to my sister's house for Sunday supper would serve as my halfhearted attempt to find this dog's owner.
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Hopefully, they're long gone, because until this pup's arrival, I hadn't realized just how hollow my house with its reclaimed wood flooring and single occupant had begun to sound.
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It wasn't supposed to be this way. By my age--and my mother's calculations--I should be living quite comfortably as a wife and mother and keeper of a house surrounded by a white picket fence. "Men aren't attracted to tomboys, Callie," my mother always said, clutching her heart and peering into the sky. She'd always been dramatic like that. Probably a leftover from her days in musical theater, an aspiration she eventually gave up to raise children.
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Click Here to read the entire first chapter of A Shore Thing by Julie Carobini. And be sure to stop by The Borrowed Book on Friday for your chance to win a copy of Julie's book!

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