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My life as a Mule proof cover

Almost pau (i.e. finished) with “My Life as a Mule”

Dear Friends,

Yes, I’m almost pau (finished) with my first work of fiction, My Life as a Mule.

I’m awaiting the third proof, and once I’m able to give it a quick look-see and hold it in my hands, I’ll hopefully be clicking “publish” in CreateSpace.com.

Meanwhile, how’s about a sample chapter?

Enjoy!

Sj

p.s. Kaua‘i friends, keep your eyes open for a press release in The Garden Island. : )

Excerpt from My Life as a Mule by Sj Hylton LeHoven, Illustrated by Jocelyne Champagne Shiner

Why Am I Kissing Him?

“Why am I kissing him?” Molly wondered. She was enjoying the playful romp in spite of herself. “I don’t even like him,” she mused as she felt his tongue reach further into her mouth. “And what will Betsy think?” she thought guiltily. “She’s been such a good friend for so long. How can I do this to her?”

Finding strength in the midst of her remorse, Molly pulled away.

“What’s wrong Molly?” asked Tommy, an adorable Horse Stallion.

“The cutest ever,” thought Molly. “And Betsy’s boyfriend. Not yours,” she told herself with force. And yet, she couldn’t bear the thought of him not liking her.

“Nothing, Tommy,” said Molly simply. “Nothing at all. You’re a great kisser. It’s just, it’s just…”

“What can I possibly say to get out of this mess?” she wondered.

“It’s just that I’ve got to be going. I promised my mom I’d be back in time to put out the garbage,” she lied.

“Lame!” she silently shouted to herself, “Lame! Molly, couldn’t you have thought of something else?”

“Oh, well, okay,” said Tommy, obviously disappointed. “Mules,” he thought. “They’re a moody bunch. You just can’t ever tell what they’re thinking. Mom was right, best to stick with my own kind.”

Just a few days before when learning who her son was dating, his mother had exploded. “Whatever are you thinking? A Rabbit for a girl friend? Nothing can come of it. Nothing!”

“We could adopt, Mom,” he’d replied, thinking of social studies class. “The teacher was telling us the other day about all the poor animals abandoned after floods and fires, and…”

“You are not adopting bunnies. Or dogs. Or…” she had said in a shrill voice, rising to a crescendo, “Cats! No son of mine, who I’ve poured my heart and soul and good upbringing into is going to marry outside of his species. No siree, Bob,” she had shouted with such force that Tommy had practically buckled to his knees.

“Mom, I’m Tommy. Not Bob,” he had meekly replied.

“Tommy, Bobby, whichever son of mine you are, you are not. Do you hear me? You are not marrying outside of our species,” she had said with such finality that Tommy hadn’t dared make a peep. Or a neigh. He’d been literally struck speechless.

“But Molly,” he thought now, coming out of his reverie, “well, she’s the same species, right? Why not give it another go?”

“Tommy!” yelled Molly, pushing him away after his sudden advance. “I’ve really got to go,” she called as she quickly trotted away. “See ya!”

“What was I thinking?” she thought as she dashed towards home. Bumping into trees. Dropping her books. Molly was a mess.

“Molly!” she suddenly shouted. “Get a hold of yourself!” So, she did. She stopped and took a deep breath. And then another. By the third, she was beginning to calm down.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Betsy,” she cried. “What was I thinking?”

“You weren’t,” the little voice inside her said.

“No, I guess I wasn’t. It was just, well, it was just, he gave me that look, and I couldn’t help myself.”

For as long as Molly could remember, she couldn’t stand not being noticed.

“When did it start?” she wondered as she slowly drifted along a forest trail that ran behind her neighborhood. “In grade school? With Miss Granger? No,” she said, shaking her head. “Definitely not. I tried my best not to be noticed.”

Completely oblivious of a flock of birds swarming the maple trees, she continued to review her personal database of memories, stopping at Sunday School. “No,” she thought. “That doesn’t seem right.”

And then it hit her. “It’s only when I’m around boys! It’s like a switch goes off. And I just have to have them see me. Notice me.”

It didn’t need to be grand. A simple smile would do. But somehow, some way, Molly needed to be noticed. Acknowledged.

“Wow,” she thought. “I’ve been like this my whole life. Or,” she mused, “as long as I can remember. But Betsy? How could I do this to her?”

Walking in circles, Molly was worrying herself sick. And then, as easy as pie, the solution came to her. “I’m just going to act like it never happened. Ignore it, and it’ll go away.”

And that’s what she did. For the next few weeks, she simply avoided Tommy. He came this way. She went that way. He entered the lunch room. She left by another door. “I don’t have to explain myself,” she thought. “Deal with it in any way.” And it would have been perfect, except for when Betsy began to complain. “He won’t even talk to me,” she told Molly. “I don’t know what happened. One minute we were talking about where we wanted to go eat before the dance, and the next, he’s acting like I don’t even exist.”

“I’m so sorry,” Molly told her friend. Of course, she didn’t say what she was really sorry for. That would have caused all kinds of problems that she wasn’t ready to face.

“But why did he dump her?” Molly wondered. “That makes no sense. It only happened those two times.”

Not sure what to do and feeling more remorse than she thought possible, Molly decided to crack open her piggy bank. “It won’t make what happened go away,” she thought. “But it can’t hurt.”

“Wow! Thanks, Molly!” cried Betsy after enjoying a big bite of her hot fudge sundae. “Ice cream’s my favorite. And ice skating too! Wow! You’re the best friend ever!”

Update June 25, 2018: My Life as a Mule is now available at Amazon. Click on the title for the link to purchase your own copy. : )