Hey Folks First off, thanks for all of the nice emails about the last story (Leave Her to Heaven). Even the people who thought the story was outside of their comfort zone found something nice to say. This one is more down to earth and firmly rooted in the real world. The only thing controversial about this one is the title. I originally wanted to call it Be...
"The separation between past, present and future is only an illusion, though a convincing one..." - Albert Einstein. Feet tucked in close, she sighed, picked up the newspaper and looked over the front page, settled on a story and started reading. From time to time she picked up her coffee, took a sip, a little grin crossing her face here, the shadow of a...
The following week seemed to drag by for Jordan. He trained his replacement, Mike, for 10 hours a day, then went home each night to pack his small condo. He lived a fairly Spartan existence, and everything would fit into a pile of boxes in his living room, except for his bed, dresser, television and a futon that doubled as his sofa and guest bed. He figu...
Thank you for reading my serial novel, 'Tom & Sue & John & Debbie.' If you haven't read Chapters 1-23, please do so before reading this chapter otherwise you'll be missing out on all the details of the story as it was told to me. It's Monday on State's campus after the big football game against the Irish, and after a two week absence, it's time for Donna t...
Robert Jabez put his computer on the empty seat next to him and stepped into the aisle of the tour bus carrying him and his fellow musicians north toward Buffalo and the Canadian border. He glanced at the bus they were trailing and started back for the rest room, ignoring the whist game going on across the way between the director of music, Dr. Paul Sella, a...
Hi folks, This one is partially true and partially fiction. The guy who wrecked his Mustang and went into a depression about it is absolutely true. I met him at this year's dream cruise. Coming to Mustang Alley and seeing all of the ponies was part of his therapy. I did let him know that I'd be taking a lot of liberties with his story. But there were some th...
Author's Note: This very short novel is a result of a writing challenge called NaNoWriMo or National Novel Writing Month. The challenge is to write a 50,000 word novel during the month of November. It is currently a hot topic on the Author's Hangout, if you'd like to learn more. Please remember that the point of this challenge was word count and not quality....
The room was heaving with bodies, some famous, but mainly music exec types and those looking to land themselves a contract or a rock star for the night. I was glad. All my hard work had paid off. I hated event organising and I'd really expected when I took this job 18 months ago, that the work would be more of the hands on personal assistant kind the job spe...
Prologue. Late Summer 1943 – Suffolk, England. Katie opened the front door and froze. A grim faced postman stood on the doorstep with an ominous looking telegram in his hand. He silently handed it to her, and Katie shut the door before he had a chance to offer her his sympathy. She had been expecting this, she had not heard from Stephen for many months, sh...
Melancholy Jeannie was a fine, young thing strutting her long smooth legs in a tiny, tight jeans cutoff. That bright red painted mouth of hers pouted upset. Behind the deeply black makeup of her eyes was deep despair. Her black high heels tick-tocked on the wooden porch. Caged like a pretty bird, the expanse of muddy fields and partially plowed over wheat st...