Writings

Writings
Miscellaneous Writings and Musings

Maelstrom

Maelstrom
A genie and her rock band

(Novel and Short Stories)

Steal Tomorrow

Steal Tomorrow
Murder, Mystery, First Love, and the End of the World

(Novel and Short Stories)

My Books and Stories

My Books and Stories
Where to Buy, Read, Download

Crime Stoppers

Trey pressed his face against the bars. Nobody had lived here for years, but the owners had left furniture, crystal, and who knew what else behind. He intended to use this information to his advantage. Trey never worried about breaking into places. His babyish face and innocent smile always got him out of a tight spot if cunning failed.

He clambered over the fence and headed across the lawn. Suddenly he heard the baying of dogs. He turned and ran, two Rottweilers in close pursuit. This place wasn’t abandoned after all, and charm wouldn’t get him out of this one!












This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by J Hardy Carroll.

Objet d'Art

It couldn’t be done, they said. No one could create such a grand object on such enormous scale using only hand tools and some rusty scrap iron.

“What’s the point?” they asked. Why spend so much effort on an object of curiosity when one could spend one’s time more productively?

Aaron deflected the naysayers with a vigorous shake of his head and disappeared into his workshop. After weeks of effort, late one night he finally moved his great work into position. Taut with expectation, he waited for daylight and the stunned faces of the townsfolk.

They had always underestimated him.



















This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Jennifer Pendergast.

Family Dynamics

She had been on her feet all day cleaning and cooking, chasing after the children and trying to get them relocated into a single bedroom. Their two uncles were coming and since one worked for Greenpeace and the other was a climate change denier, there was no way they could bunk together.

With a languid sigh, she settled into the window seat and waited for their arrival, only to be startled by a high-pitched shriek.

“It’s snowing! Mom, it never snows in July!”

Donna gave an impish grin. “Too true.” This was going to be a very entertaining family visit.


This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Sarah Potter.

A Tragic End

Ah, Doreen! Once a glamorous model stepping out in the latest styles, she was now a decaying wreck. Instead of bright lights and swank restaurants, she spent her time in a muddy field, swilling beer and chain-smoking, gazing at the empty sky.

Was she remembering happier days? Did she miss the fragrant swish of a perfumed dress and the posh elegance of an exclusive club? Did her fans and boyfriends ever come to mind, or were these embers of a life enough for her? Frightening to think that this was all that remained. She used to be such a doll!



This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Liz Young.

Introvert's Dilemma

Bob was an introvert, through and through, but he was blessed (or perhaps cursed) with the kind of charisma and good looks that drew all to him. No asymmetrical features or flab marred his Adonis-like body, and although he preferred to be alone, he could smile and charm with the best of them.

Beset at all sides by men and women clamoring for his presence, he fled the city, taking only a plain, bare chair. For days he drove through the countryside. Where could he find the solitude he craved?
















Now if only the damn birds would leave him alone!

This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Ted Strutz.

Parade

It was scandalous. Grandpa was ninety-six years old, blind in one eye, half-deaf, and so fat it was debatable whether he could get his rotund self behind the wheel. But he had insisted until the family gave up.
And who knew? He had restored the jalopy in his youth and knew it the way a mother knew her own child. Maybe instinct would see him through.
Then a voice from the back seat.
“How much farther? Hand me another beer. I’m parched!”
Sharon sighed. Grandpa and his car were going to be the most memorable entry in this year’s parade.
This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Al Forbes.

Protege

She hurried down the tunnel-like hallway, oblivious to the clean lines of its modern design. A particular memory nagged.

“Your work has a certain neophyte appeal,” he had told her, “But it’s nothing special.”

He had wanted her to keep studying with him, but she knew better. He just wanted her money and her body. The old misogynist didn’t believe a woman could be a serious artist.

Well, she showed him. A few more steps and she would be in the gallery surrounded by her paintings and the fans who had come from all over the city to meet her.



This was written with words from Three Word Wednesday and photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers. Photo by Dale Rogerson.