Title: More Anger Chronicles: Freshman Year

Series: The Anger Chronicles, Book Two

Author: Jessie Preisendorfer

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 07/07/2026

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 306

Genre: Contemporary YA, contemporary, YA, bisexual, lesbian, literature/genre fiction, high school, coming out, coming of age, first time, rabbi/Jewish rituals, humorous, therapist, physical violence, anger issues/management, alcohol, strong language, family drama, theater

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Description

Shay, sarcastic and queer, is settling in with her fifth foster family in four years. The Morgensterns—Rabbi Miriam, husband Ravid, nine-year-old twins Nathan and Eli, and a big black cat—welcoming and patient, slowly adjust to life with Shay. The challenges are frequent when Shay’s always-below-the-surface anger bubbles up. Against her better judgment, she finds herself becoming more attached to them.

Conflict starts on day one of high school when Shay’s first serious girlfriend ghosts her. Things get more complicated when Shay volunteers for the school theater production and develops a crush on the girl in charge of the stage crew. Can Shay help it when she then crushes on one of the boy actors? Shay tries to navigate it all, but eventually, her anger issues cause her to make a bad decision that hurts a friend deeply.

Further complicating things, Shay’s father, released from prison the previous year, announces he wants to pursue custody. Of course, this throws Shay’s life with the Morgensterns into turmoil. Will he take her away from her friends and foster family? What’s the point of getting attached to everyone when everything can be lost?

Excerpt

More Anger Chronicles: Freshman Year
Jessie Preisendorfer © 2026
All Rights Reserved

I got a black eye on my first day of ninth grade. It mostly wasn’t my fault. You should know that I showed up at school that morning a little cranky, which may have contributed to getting the black eye. I was cranky because Toya had been acting weird for at least a week. All summer, we had been dating, “hanging out” (kissing), and texting constantly when we weren’t together. Awesome.

Then, about a week before school started, I didn’t get as many texts from her, and she even ignored one or two of my texts, which kicked off my anger. I didn’t want to be angry because of Toya. I really liked her. Like, really, really.

Making everything worse, she bailed on going to the movies with me the night before the start of school. She told me some shit about her dad changing the dates for her staying at his house, but she still could have gone to the movies. I mean, we were starting high school the next day, which was kind of a big deal. I thought we were in this whole first-day-of-high-school thing together. When she texted me to cancel our date, I got super angry and sent her a long voice-to-text rant that was way too long and way too angry. She didn’t respond. At all. So, I finally texted Whatever and turned off my phone.

I woke up early, and Spock, my foster family’s big black cat who sleeps with me, came up to head bonk my chin to say “good morning.” I rubbed his ears and turned on my phone. Toya had responded Whatever to my Whatever. Ugh. I guessed we were in a fight. On the first day of high school. Terrific. Also, my friend Wanda had texted around midnight to see if I wanted to come over for breakfast before school, but since I hadn’t responded—BECAUSE MY PHONE WAS OFF BECAUSE OF TOYA—I didn’t tell Wanda Yes. I was starting high school alone.

Before school, my morning was filled with my foster brothers, nine-year-old twins, bouncing off the walls with excitement. Going into fourth grade apparently made them grown men because they both asked for coffee at breakfast. Their mom, Mrs. Morgenstern (Mrs. M to me), poured them each some milk in a coffee mug.

“Your coffee, Mr. Morgenstern,” she said to Eli and, “Here’s yours, Mr. Morgenstern,” to Nathan.

Raising my orange juice glass to Nathan, I said, “Cheers, old chap,” and then, “Old bean,” to Eli and raised my glass to him. We all clinked drinks because we were proper gentlemen.

“Cheers, bean,” Eli said to Nathan, and they both slipped out of their chairs as Mr. Morgenstern came into the kitchen. Together, at top volume, they told their dad the story of the morning—that they’d had coffee and were chaps and beans.

He raised his eyebrows. “Certain people are excited about today, I see.” He asked me, “Are you excited to start high school?”

“No. Toya is being weird. I don’t know where any of my classes are, and I’m starting all over again. Again.” I remembered last year when I had three first days of school because of transferring midyear three times. It sucked to do that in a regular year, but in eighth grade, it was a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.

Mrs. M said, “At least it’s only you ninth graders in school this week. None of you knows where anything is. You won’t be the only one starting from scratch.”

She had a point.

She continued, “Sorry about Toya. Maybe she’s worried about school.”

She did not have a point there. Toya was not worried about school. She was practically a genius—all honors classes and gifted track stuff. Something else was definitely the problem—probably something about me. Her “whatever” text cut through me every time I thought about it, and I thought about it a lot.

“Yeah, probably. I’ll see her today.”

Mr. M said, “Let’s celebrate tonight. Shay, you like kale salads, right?”

The twins swiveled their heads at us.

“Love them,” I said. “Kale’s my favorite.”

The twins were horrified.

I winked at them, and they started bouncing around again, cheering, “Pizza! Pizza!”

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Meet the Author

Jessie has been performing comedy in her spare time for over twenty-five years, which definitely comes in handy during the day in her job as a high school teacher. She grew up in the Poconos, in a house in the woods on a lake, with very little parental oversight. It was even more dangerous than it sounds, but it was the ’70s. Jessie is a lifelong writer, and with her first novel, she is eager to contribute to the queer YA subgenre. Jessie lives outside Philadelphia with her wife, two cats, and fantasies of days spent volunteering at goat rescues after she retires. Find Jessie on Facebook.