Marta Salas hated flying, even in the luxurious surroundings of a private jet. She gripped the armrests, bracing herself as the wheels left the runway. It was a short flight, she told herself, no more than a couple of hours from Denver to Las Vegas. Maybe it was because she was brought up on an island, she loved the sea, or perhaps it was the knowledge that...
My name is Estella Barnes. A six-foot-two, blonde-haired and green-eyed, chubby and big-bottomed, somewhat tomboyish Irishwoman living in the city of Chicago, Illinois. I'm an intern from the University of Illinois working for the Opal Winston Show. Yes, the Opal Winston Show. I can't tell you how excited I was to work for the show. I've always loved Opal Wi...
"I've made my ruling. Mr. Warner. Mrs. Warner. Counsel?" Five people in the courtroom stood. My lawyer, Adam Brillstein and his assistant, Lauryn Tourney, myself, my soon-to-be-ex-husband, Bryant and his dim-watt bulb lawyer, Arthur Acrisos. Lauryn gave my shoulders a quick, gentle squeeze and Adam shot her a stern look. She had evidently forgotten his admo...
This is my submission for the Valentine's Day 2019 contest. A great big thank you to Selene for her encouragement and for offering to beta-read this story for me, as well as for having been so kind and thoughtful in her correspondence about my earlier work. To each and every reader who has reached out to me or may do so in the future, I am deeply grateful....
Out of all the social functions I attended each year my favorite by far was Caroline Carson's annual summer kickoff party, held every June at her twelve room plantation home on the river. Caroline's parties were legendary in savannah's social circles; she picked the guests personally for each party. And sent each one handwritten invitations that were deliver...
Being a rich Georgian socialite, I didn't have the need to work like the common people of the world. I found myself spending most of my days attending various events like gallery openings and mid-afternoon tea parties, which made my life extremely dull. One Saturday afternoon my bore of a husband suggested that I go to one of his new business partner's hous...
My name is Danica Haverhill. A six-foot-one, chubby and big-bottomed yet still very good-looking Irishwoman living in the city of Brockton, Massachusetts. A lot of people think of me as an uptight bitch with too much time and money on her hands. Maybe they're right. Whatever. I don't let it get to me because I've been called worse in my day. Much worse, actu...
CHAPTER 1 - IT'S MY JOB Soul crushing. That's what this was. Emily finally figured out the right word for it. That's what her job was. Soul crushing. She worked in the drab and bland cubicle number thirty-six on the boring floor twenty two of the blank glass office building. In fact the only thing exciting about her job was that she got to ride on an elevat...
-12- "Please raise your tray tables and seat-backs as we prepare the cabin for landing," the voice intoned from above my head. The swamplands of Louisiana were below us as I scanned the ground underneath us as our plane banked for final approach. An interesting three and a half weeks since Alice left to return home after her meeting. We talked every night;...
We buried Brennan on a typical July afternoon, hot and restless. Heavy, dark clouds hung overhead and the smell of rain was sharp and sweet. Mr. Kennedy, Patrick and my father dug Brennan's grave beside his father, mother and younger sister, spilling dark soil across the verdant grass. Father Landon stood at the head of the grave and read from his ancient bi...