Excerpt from High Street Gang/Locket

Elizabeth was still on the computer when I walked up to her with a white jewelry box.

“Get lost," she said.

"But I thought you might like to see what I found."

She looked up. "You found a necklace? Let me see it. Let me see it.”

I took off the lid and wiggled my finger.

Elizabeth screamed so loud I thought the neighbors would call 911.

"Mmm. Road kill," I said, licking the blood off my finger.

"You pig! You pig! You're so gross!" She ran to the bathroom and I could hear her throwing up.

My plan worked perfectly. Elizabeth really thought that it was someone's finger I had found along the road. But it was just my finger smothered in ketchup. I had cut holes in the bottom of the jewelry box and cotton liner, poked my finger through the holes and rested it on the cotton liner.

"What's wrong, Elizabeth?" Mom yelled, running up the basement steps.

Uh-oh. Time to bolt.

"It's Mags. She found a finger on the road and has it in a jewelry box. There's blood all over it."

"Margaret Mary," Mom called.

I came downstairs all cleaned up.

"What's this about a finger in a box?"

"Don’t know what she’s talking about. I think Lizzy's reading too many horror novels.”

Elizabeth glared at me. "I saw it. It was in a necklace box."

I looked at Mom, shrugged my shoulders and shook my head.

"Maybe Mags is right," Mom said. "Maybe you are reading too many horror novels. I’m not sure what’s up with you two, but it’s over. Dinner’s ready.”

I followed Elizabeth to the table.

"I'll get you back," she whispered. "You never know what can happen in a cemetery at night."

"Yeah," I said. "There are lots of dead fingers there, Lizzy. Maybe a few of them will grab you."

Excerpt from High Street Gang/Haunted Barn

My friends took off for the food stand and I started doodling on the score pad. That's when my sister, Elizabeth, showed up.

"What's up, punk," she said, pulling the tablet out of my hand.

"Get lost.”

"When did you learn shorthand?"

"I didn't."

"Well, this is shorthand. I should know. I taught myself from one of Mom’s old text books just for fun.”

"Well, if it's shorthand, what does it say, smarty?"

"You'll find Anna in West Side Nursing Home. Hurry. Time is running out.”

"That scribble says all that?"

I grabbed the tablet to look at it. Still looked like scribble to me.

"Who's Anna?" she asked.

"I don't know."

“Then why’d you write it?”

“I didn’t. Well, at least I didn’t know that I did.”

"You’re really weird. And I suppose you’re going to tell me that you also didn’t know you wrote West Side Nursing Home. Where’s that, anyway? Never heard of it."

"Me, neither."

"Then why'd you write it?"

"I told you I didn't write it. I mean I didn't know that I did. I was just doodling."

"How can you write in shorthand and not even know it? Give me a break, dweeb."

From "High Street Gang and Locket of Doom"

Excerpt from middle-grade novel

"But I’m scared,” A.J. said. “I don't mind walking through the cemetery when it’s light outside, but at midnight? Walking on top of all those dead people when it's dark gives me the creeps."

I wasn't crazy about the idea either. I mean, standing in the middle of a cemetery at midnight isn't my idea of fun. But I, Margaret Mary O'Malley, never back down from a dare. A.J.'s older brother, Tom, had dared our group, the High Street Gang, to walk through the cemetery at midnight.

"What’s there to be afraid of? Everyone’s dead. It’s not like they’re going to claw their way out of their coffins and grab you and pull you into their grave and we’ll never see you again. Besides, we can't chicken out. We'll never hear the end of it. And I really want to see if the statue cries."

"What statue?"

"The one in the middle of the cemetery. You know the one. The lady. It's the only statue in the entire cemetery. It cries."