Change is a wonderful thing.

A friend called me an author the other day.  It sounded strange, foreign. In my head, I've always thought of myself as a teacher. I guess my life as a teacher is in my past because I now have four books published and in print. I have contracted with my publisher (tell-talepublishing.com) for three more.

I spent twenty years as an English teacher, and another ten years as a high school counselor. Truth be known, even as a counselor, I still felt like a teacher. I liked that feeling.

Three months after retiring, I got an idea for a story. I started writing it without any idea that it might turn into a whole book. I had no expectation that it would ever be published. Mira is that first book. That first story that I wanted to tell.

Within a year, I had a three-book series done. The only ones who read it, the only ones who even knew I was writing it, were my two sisters. They loved it and talked me into submitting it to publishers. Finding a publisher is not an easy task, but that's a story for another day.

I guess I am an author. I tweet, post on Facebook, and blog. I do book signings. I visit bookstores. Mainly, I keep writing. No longer the teacher that I always loved being, but a little part of my heart is still in the classroom

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Change is a wonderful thing, but sometimes it just creeps up on you and takes you by surprise.

Abandoned Excerpt

Holly has no idea vampires are real. But she finds out.

Excerpt from Abandoned, Book I of In the Night, by Ellen Fritz

I peeked out the door, sneaked down the hall, and stopped against the side of the steps to make sure I didn’t see or hear anyone near.  As soon as I thought the place was empty and I took one step toward the bar, I heard footsteps and voices coming down the stairs.  I ducked further back by the door to the tunnel as quickly as I could to keep from being seen.

Three couples strolled into the big room.  Two holding hands, one with their arms around each other.  They sat as couples on the big couches and continued to talk quietly.  I mentally slapped myself.  There was no way could I get back down that hallway without them all seeing me.  Stupid, stupid!  I should have just stayed where I was.

The talking stopped, and I wasn’t sure they were still there until I peeked across one of the lower steps.  They were all making out!  Could I sneak away?  I didn’t think so.  If even one of them looked up, I’d be seen.

I waited a few minutes and peeked again.  I was a little uncomfortable about how far this might go.  There were a lot of things that might happen that I didn’t want to see.

One lady had her mouth all over her guy’s neck and his head was back obviously enjoying whatever she was doing.  I was a little surprised that he was doing nothing, though.  His arms were perfectly still on the couch at his sides like he could have been asleep.  Strange.

As I watched for any chance to dash down the hall back to Parker’s room, the woman pulled back her head and stretched her lips over her teeth like a snarling dog.  I had a good view since she was pretty much facing my general direction.  I should have ducked down to hide again, but she wasn’t looking at anything but his neck and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

Two of her teeth looked long and sharp.  Just as I was thinking they looked like fangs, she quickly plunged her face back to his neck.  He jerked, shivered a little, then went still again with a groan.  Did she bite him?

Her face stayed at his neck, as I heard the same groans from the other two couples.  The two guys had their faces buried in the women’s necks.  The women had their heads back against the couch and seemed out of it just like the man.

I couldn’t stop watching even though none of them moved.  They just held those positions for several minutes.  Then the first woman I’d watched lifted her head slowly from the man’s neck.  Her mouth was still open.  I saw those pointy teeth with blood all over them.

I was paralyzed as I watched her lick the blood from her lips and teeth.  Inches from her face, the man had two bloody puncture marks on his neck.  She grinned like she felt wonderful.

God, I’d seen that look on Mom’s face when she’d had about three beers and was feeling their effects.  Then the woman leaned her head down again, and began to lick those wounds like a cat cleaning its fur.  When she moved away, there was no sign of any marks on his neck.

She looked around at the other couples and I ducked down, crawled along the floor to the corner in front of the door under the stairs, and sat there holding my knees up against my chest.

Somewhere in my mind I was conscious of hearing them talking again.  A woman’s voice offered to pour wine.  There was quiet laughter.  There was pleasant-sounding conversation.

I couldn’t move.  I couldn’t think.  My brain was somehow empty and full at the same time.  Empty of any thoughts that might get me out of there.  Full of one word being screamed over and over again inside my head.  Vampires!