INCOGNOLIO by Michael Sussman Bewildered but lovable author, Muldoon, is trapped in the dreamlike narrative of his own surrealistic novel. Beginning with just a title—Incognolio—he enters a bizarre fictional realm that plunges him into an identity crisis of anguishing proportions. … Continue reading
Spontaneous, fifteen-year-old Gretchen vows to help heal the nation from the recently ended Civil War. On the morning of President Lincoln’s death, Gretchen finds an amnesiac Confederate in her garden and believes this is her chance for civic goodwill.
But reconciliation is not as simple as Gretchen assumed. When her mother returns from the market with news that a Confederate murdered the president, Gretchen wonders if she caught the killer. Tensions between her aunt and mother rise as Gretchen nurses her Confederate prisoner, revealing secrets from their past that make Gretchen question everything she knows about loyalty, honor, and trust.
The Last April is an entertaining, thoughtful novella of Ohio after the Civil War, meant to encourage readers to reflect on themes of fear and hope in uncertain political times.
Read an Excerpt –
Everyone else would remember that Saturday as the day President Lincoln died. Gretchen Miller would remember it as the day the ragged man collapsed at her feet.
Gretchen was tugging at weeds and swatting at gnats when a thud made her whip around. The war was over, but Confederate supporters were everywhere. They lingered after General Lee’s surrender, and President Lincoln’s reconciliation speech, and in pro-Union Columbus.
Gretchen swung from her hunched position to lean back on her barefoot heels. Her skirts puffed out with the movement. She slapped them down, annoyed.
Sharp sunlight made it difficult to see. Gretchen thought she saw a collapsed man just yards from her hem. She adjusted her straw hat so it shaded her eyes.
The man was sprawled across the oak tree roots. Gretchen could not tell his age or condition from where she crouched. His back was to her, his dark head resting on his outstretched arm. He was not moving.
“May the angels have charge of me,” Gretchen whispered. She patted the revolver in her skirt pocket.
His leg twitched.
Gretchen’s heart leaped. That dark, matted hair gave her a turn. Maybe it was her brother Werner, returned from war at last. A hundred men from the Grove City area had answered President Lincoln’s call for soldiers. Everyone was afraid of the number that would return.
Gretchen grabbed her skirts as she scrambled to standing. She flailed her arms at the log farmhouse she called home. She could not shout, in case the man had faked his injury and was waiting for an excuse to attack.
Her aunt, Tante Klegg, stuck her head out the kitchen door. “What is it?” Tante Klegg’s heavy German accent was strident in the quiet morning. It matched the severity of her hair braided and twisted tight against her head.
Gretchen put her finger to her lips. She cupped her hands around her mouth so her whisper would carry. “There is a man.” She waved at her aunt to come outside.
Tante Klegg tiptoed across the rocks Gretchen had overturned gardening. She held her skirt layers high above her ankles.
The man remained quiet, only his twitching foot letting them know he lived. Gretchen did not know if that meant he was dangerous or that he was too injured to move.
Gretchen brushed a strand of reddish hair from her mouth as the breeze picked up. Though it was April, the humidity was heavy and stifling. The wind still carried the scent of cooling bonfires from yesterday’s elaborate celebrations.
Last night, Gretchen had danced until her feet ached and sung until her voice was hoarse. She had been ready to do anything to help her country heal. She held onto the president’s words of reconciliation that she read in the newspaper. She hoped everyone could see the Confederates as prodigal brothers and sisters. She hoped the Confederates would be humble and welcomed home.
With a stranger at her feet, Gretchen realized such things were easier said than done. She gripped the revolver hidden in her pocket and held out her other hand to stop her aunt from advancing. Holding her breath, she crept closer.
The man perhaps could have been her brother, once upon a time. His body was gaunt, worn thin by trials Gretchen suspected she would never understand. His left hand did not bear Werner’s distinctive strawberry-shaped birthmark.
This was not her brother.
Belinda Kroll is the author of Victorian fiction for kids and teens. She grew up in a home where reading was encouraged and Jeopardy! was on every weeknight. Both activities fostered her love of history. Some of her titles include Catching the Rose, Haunting Miss Trentwood, short story Haunting Miss Trentwood: The Seance, and contemporary short story Mad Maxine. She lives in Central Ohio with her husband and two step-dogs. Go Bucks!
Author Site: http://worderella.com/
“Your son’s brain function is severely abnormal. I would recommend you begin saving for his group home care as an adult.”
Any mom would be crushed by this dire pessimistic prediction, but Bonnie did not let this UCLA neuropsychologist’s edict determine her son’s fate. Combining relentless determination with research, learning and in-depth discussions with professionals, Bonnie found ways to help him progress from ‘severely abnormal’ to honor roll student.
In the Special Ed Mom Survival Guide, Bonnie leads you through the vital steps necessary to survive as a Special Ed Mom. From learning how to manage the emotional overwhelm, to figuring out how to get the school to say yes, Bonnie presents a roadmap that leads you through this confusing obstacle course. Sharing tried and true methods, Bonnie teaches you to find your own inner compass so you can gain the ability and confidence to make decisions that bring results for your child. Based on personal and professional experience, Bonnie will help you to:
- Create the Right Mindset
- Take Care of Yourself
- Take Care of Your Child
- Understand the Special Ed Process
- Take Charge of the Special Ed Process
“If only I had had a guide to help me navigate all the challenges,” Bonnie says. “Then I could have focused more on my child and less on learning how to get help.” Every Special Ed Mom needs this guide to help make the journey easier!
Read an Excerpt-
Chapter 25: Teach Your Child to Self Advocate
Working in the schools, I am amazed how often a student is not aware of the accommodations he is entitled to in his IEP or 504 plan. The teachers are aware that an IEP or 504 is in place, but often the teachers fail to implement those accommodations. I have seen situations where teachers need to be reminded many times about accommodations. Sometimes teachers even outright refuse to provide them. It is very apparent that special education students need to learn how to self-advocate so they can make sure they get the proper support that has been approved for them.
Self-advocacy is a skill that the child has to develop over time. They are never too young to start. Even in kindergarten and first grade you can help your child learn what support is needed in order to get his schoolwork done. For example, let’s say you have a child with ADHD, and he has difficulty sitting still. He needs movement breaks. If the teacher keeps saying “get in your seat, get in your seat,” he must learn to say to the teacher “I’m allowed to move around.” It doesn’t matter what age the child is, you need to teach him that he has a right to get what he needs.
Bonnie has spent the better part of 25 years as a graphic designer and artist. Always a lover of psychology and the forces that influence behavior, it was a natural transition for her to begin working to resolve her oldest son’s special education challenges. When he was six, a neuropsychologist said he was beyond help, and to plan for his group home care as an adult. Bonnie could not accept that nothing could be done, and she set on a path to find solutions to help her son. He is now an honor student and destined to live a typical life.
Having been through the special ed system as a mom, and now as a advocate and counselor, she saw the need for support for the parents who carry this challenging burden. She has helped parents who struggle with districts who refused services, and she has coached parents in finding ways help their child succeed against the odds. Bonnie knows the fear a mother feels when her child’s future is uncertain, and that is why she chose to shift her life focus into educational consulting. She has a thriving practice as an educational consultant and advocate for parents who find themselves struggling with the special education journey.
She is the author of Special Ed Mom Survival Guide: How to prevail in the special ed process while discovering life-long strategies for both you and your child. She is also the creator of Grounded for Life: 52 Exercises for Daily Grounding, and co-author of Same Journey, Different Paths: Stories of Auditory Processing Disorder. She has a masters in educational counseling and another in spiritual psychology. Her bachelors degree is in architecture. She lives in Ventura County, California with her husband, two boys and their two furry felines.
Find out more:
by David Beem
Meet Edger (Ed-jer), a twenty-six-year-old gadget retail dork destined to become the world’s first superhero!
His superpower: the ability to channel the Collective Unconscious, a psychic network connecting the living and the dead. In his arsenal are the skills of Bruce Lee, the strength of Samson, the wisdom of the ages…and the dancing chops of Michael Jackson—including that one twisty foot move, crotch grab, and fedora tilt.
But there’s a catch…
Like every psychic superpower to get administered through a hypodermic needle, this one comes with a prick. Someone seems to have misplaced the booster necessary for stabilizing his superpower. Without it, Edger has three days before his brain turns to pudding.
Join our Dork of Destiny as he overcomes the world’s greatest butt, two rival Cluck-n-Pray gangs, an evil cow, a Green Bay Defensive Tackle, rifle-toting assassins—and a pair of stoners who inadvertently create the world’s first supervillain after a wild night on Twitter!
Read an excerpt-
Wang and Shmuel at the Q
Wang ducks behind the postcard rack in the gift shop. Once the two security guards race past, he spins to face Shmuel, who is wearing a pair of Chargers sunglasses, a Chargers ski hat, three Chargers chain necklaces, and four Commemorative Chargers rings on each hand.
“What the hell are you doing?” snaps Wang.
“Put all that stuff back!”
“Imma get me some gold front teeth,” says Shmuel, grinning into the mirror at the top of the sunglasses rack.
“Dude, we don’t have time for this! Those guys are going after Chicowgo right now!”
“They are?” Shmuel takes off his shades and puts them back on the rack. “Now? How do you know?”
“I heard it on their radios. Chicowgo is in the visiting team’s locker room.”
“Well, that’s right over there.” Shmuel points without looking over his shoulder in the correct direction. Wang bites his lip, then drags Shmuel around to the other side of the sunglasses rack, so they’re obscured from the guard sitting next to the door with the big letters over it that spell: OFF LIMITS. Shmuel pushes Wang’s blocking arm down and peers around the sunglasses rack to where the guard is finishing his lunch from a Cluck-n-Pray bag.
“Is that…is that one of our brownies?”
“Well, that’s convenient,” says Shmuel, his eyebrows going up. “I mean, the one guard we need to sneak past to get Chicowgo back just happens to be eating one of our Very Special Brownies?”
Wang turns around to face him. “What’s your point?”
“Just doesn’t seem very plausible is all I’m saying.”
“Plausible? Plausible?” Wang frowns. “The fuck are you? A movie critic? Look. Just chat him up for five secs. I’ll slip by, take the elevator down, and get your damn cow back. How’s that sound?”
“I think it doesn’t sound very plausible?”
“Yeah? Well, that’s what they said about Donald Trump, and look how that turned out.”
“Shit, dude. You think the Russians are gonna make the Green Bay locker room great again?”
Wang’s eyes narrow. “Can you do your part of the job or not?”
“Chat up the security guard while you get Chicowgo back? Sure. But I don’t think it’s such a good idea to talk politics? I don’t know who he voted for.”
Wang shoves him toward the security guard. “Big fucking surprise. You don’t know who you voted for either, now get going!”
David Beem enjoys superhero movies, taekwondo, and flossing. He lives in Djibouti with his family and crippling self-doubt. Help actualize David’s inner confidence. Visit his website today, and buy all the stuff.
Las Vegas stripper, Jazz Connolly is wrongly accused of murder and finds out the killer may be her identical twin. With help from a Denver cop Mike Mitchell—the latest victim’s best friend and her accuser, Jazz uncovers facts about her past, a dark secret twisted with lies, and clues to the killer’s true identity.
When Mike finds Jazz on his doorstep, he can’t resist the temptation and helps her track down details of her past. As they uncover clues, he can’t ignore the potent chemistry between them. In this tangled web of chaos, their passion ignites, but can they learn to trust each other? While the body count grows, they will have to fight back, love hard, and survive in order to learn the truth and expose the real killer.
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Free on Kindle Unlimited
Read an Excerpt –
Studying the picture of the woman, I could swear I’m looking at myself. “I don’t know who that is, but that isn’t me,” I gulp out. “I don’t have clothes like that and my wig is black.”
“It’s uncanny, isn’t it though? She looks just like you, aside from the wig. Are you sure you don’t have any siblings? Maybe a twin sister? She has to be, from the way you two look so much alike.” Lindstrum charges.
“No. I’m an only child. I don’t even have cousins,” I say. All the while my focus is on the picture of the woman in the red wig. I know it’s me in the black wig. But both detectives are right. This woman and I can pass for sisters. Twins.
“Are you sure?” Ruiz is insistent. “We tried getting into your adoption files but they’re blocked.”
“Positive.” Wait. Did I hear him correctly? “What do you mean adoption files?” I ask, staring at Ruiz for the answers. “This has to be some mistake? I’m not adopted.” Or am I?
“We were able to find some details about your adoption, Ms. Jessica Ann Connolly. What we uncovered is that you were adopted by Margaret and William Connolly from Brandford, Idaho, on June 13, 1991.” Lindstrum says evenly. He leans back in his chair and nods at me. “That is the truth.”
I’m adopted. Shock tears through me. Is this possible? The truth is like a boulder on my chest and I can’t breathe. I don’t know what to think or do. Everything is starting to spin. Not even sure if I’m having a heart attack because my chest is hurting so bad. My skin’s prickling tight against my bones and my hearing and vision are fading in and out.
Don’t pass out, is all I can repeat to myself, but that is exactly what I do.
CJ Warrant Bio:
CJ Warrant is a lover, a hater and sometimes a fighter for all she’s passionate about. She can’t exist without coffee, chocolate and a damn story brewing in her head. She was born an overseas Army brat, in a Korean Italian household but settled in the states at the ripe old age of five.
With a long career in the beauty industry, a wonderful marriage to a great man and three kids nearly all grown, her view of life is as such. Life is a journey; both good and bad, light and dark, but she takes it all in and learns from every experience life has to offer. She takes those crazy moments, stirs in the dark and brings her passion for words to life.
Visit CJ at www.cjwarrant.com
Social Media Links
Fan page www.facebook.com/cjwarrantauthor/
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A Painting to Die For
Book 3 Jenna Scali Mystery Series
Jenna’s quiet weekend turns upside down when her house is ransacked and a body is found with her name and number in its possession. Meanwhile her long-lost cousins show up with stories about international art theft dating back to World War II.
While Jenna questions the motives of her dead father in his connection to stolen art, the police find a second body with Jenna’s name in its possession and she becomes the primary link in two murder inquiries. Sidestepping the police and dodging the mob, she and her best friend, Quentin, embark on their own investigation to save themselves and Jenna’s cousins from untimely deaths.
Offset by the quiet university town where faculty and students mill about, minding their own business, Jenna is kidnapped and held at gunpoint while her double-crossing, lying cousins chase after the missing painting worth millions.
A Painting to Die For forms a web of deceit that leaves Jenna doubting everything she believes about her father and his Italian heritage.
Read an excerpt-
A few minutes later, my co-worker and second best friend in the world came
thundering in like a woman possessed. Starr carried a cloth bag, full of potions,
brushes, curling irons and who knew what else. She placed the bag at my feet and
plopped down next to me, her usually wild curly hair more frizzled than ever and
her large blue eyes bulging.
“Jenna, what the devil is going on? All those police cars all over the place, and
I thought, well, my little mind couldn’t help itself, imagining something terrible had
happened to you. And, my Lord! Look at this place.”
“I forgot all about you highlighting my hair today, Starr. I’m sorry. I should
have called you. This has been a crazy weekend. First my cousins—”
“Slow down and tell me why your house is full of cops and looks as if a
hurricane struck inside. Then you can jabber on about your cousins. Lordy, I’m not
believing this place.”
“But, my cousins may be why the police are here.”
Her eyes widened more, if that were possible.
“They showed up on my doorstep on Saturday afternoon with some cock-
and-bull story about somebody stealing my daddy’s painting.”
Starr was shaking her head. “You’re not making any sense. Your daddy? I
thought he was dead, sweet pea. How’s he gonna paint a picture if he’s dead?”
I gave Starr a quick rundown of the weekend with my cousins and the stolen
“That sounds like a story in my hometown newspaper and equally hard to
follow. Are you saying some low-life stole your daddy’s painting? But why? Was he
famous or something?”
Before I could answer, Rich returned with Sergeant Lewis beside him.
When Starr saw Rich, she jumped up and gave him a bear hug. “Thank the
good Lord you’re here. What has our girl gone and gotten her little self mixed up in
Rich grinned. “We’re not sure. It could be kids looking for amphetamines or
“Jenna doesn’t take any of that stuff.”
“We’ve had a lot of break-ins lately,” Lewis interjected, “in and around Five
Points, likely college kids. They case the area, and if they spot someone living alone,
they watch until the person leaves, then they do their handiwork. That’s probably
what’s going on here. It has nothing to do with what Miss Scali takes or doesn’t
“But to leave this place like this. It looks as if she’d been entertaining General
Sherman’s troops in her living room. What a Gawd-awful mess.” She’d begun picking
up papers and books off the floor. “Those kids need the hide beaten right off of
“Yeah, we’d love to do that. Trust me. It’s like this because they were
apparently in a hurry,” Lewis said. “I’m a little curious, though. Usually the kids
break a window. They don’t care about the mess or the noise. But, this time no
windows are broken. It looks as if someone jimmied the lock on the backdoor. That’s
“Maybe they’ve gotten smarter,” I suggested.
Just then Quentin flew in the door and ran over to me. “Jenna, love, what in
the world happened here?”
By now tears flowed down my face, rendering me speechless and unable to
answer any more questions.
“Could this have anything to do with the missing—”
I gave him a hard kick in the shin.
“Ouch! What the devil?”
I shook my head at him. On cue, Rich pulled Sergeant Lewis aside.
While the two policemen conferred, I whispered to Quentin, “We don’t want
to alert Sergeant Lewis to my cousins just yet.”
“Oh, okay, sorry, love. I’m just flabbergasted. Last night you had everything so
“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” Starr said. “My little heart can’t take this chaos.”
The three of us exited the front door with Quentin busy on his phone. “I’ll just
text Rosaria to pop over. And, maybe Lucille. You’re gonna need the troops to get
your place sorted.”
Rich ran us down. “Where are you going?”
“We thought it would be best for Jenna to get out of the way,” Starr answered.
“She’s pretty shook up,” Quentin added.
Clearly no one thought I could talk for myself.
“Okay, but I’ll text you when they’re done. I’m not real comfortable with you
staying here by yourself tonight.”
“Does that mean you’ll stay over?”
“I can’t. I’ve got a meeting at seven a.m. tomorrow. But—”
“No worries. Steve’s visiting his no-good brother in Americus. She’s going
home with me, and I’ll even make a bed for the darn cats,” Starr said.
With that, we piled into Starr’s minivan and headed for parts unknown.
Dr. Joan Curtis is an award winning writer who has published 8 books and numerous stories.
The e-Murderer: Book 1 Jenna Scali mystery series won the GOLD in the Global eBook Awards for 2016 for Mystery.
The Clock Strikes Midnight has won three major awards. FINALIST in the prestigious Eric Hoffer Book Awards 2016, FIRST PLACE Royal Palm Literary Award for mainstream/literary 2015 and the Silver in the Global eBook Awards for 2015 for Fiction/Suspense
Murder on Moonshine Hill won the SILVER in the Global eBook Awards for 2017 Mystery and the BRONZE 2017 for Southern fiction Reader’s Favorite.
Peter Slade never thought he’d be coming home. But after his family is put in danger because of his past misdeeds, he has to reconcile with the son he abandoned years ago .
But his son has been in good hands. Liv Morgan has never been the nurturing type, but when hard times forced her to move in with her best friend and her orphaned nephew, she found herself being the adoptive mother to a troublemaker with a heart of gold.
Liv has no idea what trouble really is. When Slade rolls back in town and is ready to reconcile with his son, Liv finds herself walking the thin line between the estranged father and son. And as she’s more and more drawn to Slade, she realizes that if things go wrong, it will be more than just her heart breaking.
But Slade came back for a reason. His family is in danger. Liv might think that keeping him away will protect her heart, but he wants her body safe too and to do that, he’s going to have to stay close. Liv is about to learn that revenge has never been this sexy…
Excerpt – She could feel herself coming closer and closer to the edge; she tossed her head back and blinked as the orgasm approached. Except the mystery man wasn’t between her legs anymore. He stood above her and stared down at her as she worked on herself.
She gasped in surprise at the strange turn the fantasy took when she realized it wasn’t a fantasy. There really was the silhouette of a man standing over her bed and staring at her. One big scary ass man.
And that’s when she screamed.
Slade shouldn’t be surprised. If he’d been in the middle of what this woman was clearly in the middle of, he would’ve probably screamed too. Yet he found himself in momentary shock. He wanted to shut her up, but he already knew he’d overstepped too many bounds, and touching her after he had already entered her room without permission was a step too far even for him.
He held up his hands as a sign that he wasn’t a threat, even though he knew the gesture was mostly pointless. “I’m not here to hurt you,” he said, even though he didn’t think she could hear him over the sounds of her screams.
Then she bolted to the side of the bed and he saw the cell phone out of the corner of his eye.
He cursed in frustration as he admitted defeat and bolted into action. She was fast, but he was faster. As soon as she grabbed the phone, he was around the bed and had both of her wrists in one of his hands. She tried to twist around to fight him, but as she moved and writhed, she just wiggled herself right where he wanted her. For her safety, obviously.
The closer she was to him, the easier he’d be able to control her. UnfortunatelyMallory Crowe is the award winning author of the Fractured Farrells series, the Bad Boys of the Underworld series and many other novels. She grew up surrounded by rescue dogs and escaping into romance books whenever possible. After trying to do the “adult” thing by getting an accounting degree and CPA license, she decided to try her hand at writing and never looked back.An avid traveler, reader, and Netflix addict, Mallory currently lives in Michigan, with her neurotic but laid back dog.
Susan Combs had long ago found the love of her life. The only problem was the other party still didn’t know he had been found.
Every day Susan saw Calder Hurtz, her next door neighbor and childhood best friend. They always enjoyed the short drive to school down the dusty streets of their small Texas town. She was happy in those perfect moments, for her life at home was most imperfect. The challenging homestead she inhabited was also the favorite subject of local gossip.
But one autumn day she overhears two boys having a conversation. This occasion of accidental audience sets Susan’s life on an unforeseen path. In the seasons to come, her future will be changed by two hospitalizations, two confessions of love, and one betrayal.
Compulsively readable, The Simple Soul of Susan is an engaging, soul-endearing romance and a mesmerizing debut.
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Read an Excerpt-
Susan grabbed at the “Have a Nice Day” sticker and pulled it off.
“The greeter said I had been a ‘really good girl’ so he gave me a sticker. I tried to reach out for it, but he just stuck it on me…there. He…he was just being nice.”
“Susan.” Calder put his hand on the buggy to stop her. “He was not just being nice.”
“I don’t think…”
“You should report him.”
“It’s just a sticker, and I’m… I mean, they can’t prove anything.”
“I can tell you didn’t like that.”
“Well, no, but…”
“No buts. He shouldn’t have done that to you.”
“I’ll just forgive and forget…”
“I won’t.” He turned around and headed back to the store.
“Calder, really there isn’t anything that can be done…”
“Be right back,” he called.
Susan loaded the lantana into the back of the truck and wondered what Calder was doing in the store. Seven minutes later Calder was back. He jumped in the passenger’s seat and put on his seat belt.
“What did you do?” she asked suspiciously.
“Nothing.” He smirked.
After a quick stop at the sheriff’s office to drop off food for Calder’s dad, they unloaded the plants together, first heading to Susan’s barn to grab a wheelbarrow.
As they rounded the corner from the house, Calder stopped and stared. “Whoa. Did you paint the barn?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Susan replied dismissively. “And reinforced the supporting beams. The city was going to write a violation.”
Calder scratched his head. “But where did you—” he began.
“What is the mulch for?” Susan interrupted, nodding to a small bag Calder carried.
“Hiding the evidence,” he concluded with a wink.
They confirmed that Goat was still where they had left her in the shed. Goat shot them a rebellious glare regarding her confinement. Calder had procured a shovel and was removing the bushes when Susan came back outside after putting away a few groceries she had bought.
“Hey, what are we going to do with these old ones?” Calder asked, grunting with the effort of pulling a plant while trying not to tear the root system.
“Oh, I know! I’ll buy them from you and put them in my yard,” Susan offered.
“Sounds good, minus the buying part,” Calder said as he pulled.
“No, I will pay you back. It was my fault Goat got out.”
“They’re a really early birthday present. This way you’ll get flowers from me every year,” Calder quipped.
“It’s a nice thought, but what if the frost gets them before then?”
“Then I guess I’ll just have to buy you some,” Calder said as he loaded a newly excavated plant into the rusty wheelbarrow.
It was a sweet answer, but Susan didn’t take him with any degree of seriousness. He always said nice things to girls, and she knew better than to take his words to heart.
“Why are there stickers all over your rear end?” Susan exclaimed as Calder turned from the wheelbarrow to retrieve his shovel.
“Ha, dagnabit! I forgot to take them off!”
He pulled off one of his work gloves and threw it down to begin pulling the stickers off one by one.
“Calder, what happened? Just tell me!”
“Nope. Did I miss any?” He looked over his left shoulder and then the right to inspect the back of his work jeans.
“I’ll use your middle name,” Susan threatened, ignoring his previous statement.
“Sue! Is that how you treat your friends?”
“Friend. I only have one apparently, remember?”
“I wanted you to hear it from the gossips in town,” he almost whined.
“Just tell me!” Susan ordered, all playfulness set aside.
“Fine. I passed the greeter who did that to you and demanded a sticker for my rear. He refused, so I made a comment about him putting stickers in inappropriate places for other ‘youngsters.’ And then I grabbed one and made a scene.”
Susan laughed. “Thanks, Calder. But how did you end up getting so many stickers from him?”
He stopped shoveling, crossed his hands at the top of the shovel, and rested his chin on top of them. “Well, you see, Sue, I was a really, really good boy.”
Born and raised in a small Texas town, Noel Branham started her career
in digital communications after graduating with a degree in English. An
award winning communicator, she now writes from her home in Florida about
things closest to the heart: home, family, and love. Her debut novel will
be published Fall 2017.
Social Links: Instagram: Branham.noel Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/noelbranham/ Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/branhamnoel/