A California Online Magazine with Local Focus and Global Appeal
It was a small sound but enough to wake her. Enid listened, holding her body still, quietening her breath so she could hear.
What was that sound? The door, that was it, the soft snick of the latch. Someone had come in.
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“What are you doing?”
Saul dropped the shirt he had folded into a suitcase on the bed. “Oy. What the hell does it look like I’m doing?”
“Well, maybe a better question would have been, why are you packing? You taking a trip you didn’t tell me about?” Mordecai asked.
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Her name was Tennie Cloer, but I always called her Aunt Tennie. Did from the first day I met her. When she would go downtown, folks called her Mrs. Cloer. One of the first things I noticed about her was how short she was and how when she wasn’t around, people referred to her as the Widow Cloer.
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Not much happens here in Sheepsvale. It’s a small town, mostly farms and open space that holds little attraction for city folks. This is fine with me. Too many visitors means crime and big city trouble. As sheriff, I am perfectly satisfied to put my feet up on my desk, have a leisurely cup of coffee, and let the rest of the world go by. So when I got the call that there was trouble at the north edge of town I was a little surprised. There are only two farms in that neck of the woods: McGregor’s and Old MacDonald’s.
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Here is your weekly reminder that there are also new articles up on our other website KRL News & Reviews! Every week there will be book reviews and giveaways, plus sometimes pet articles, theatre articles, and more! And listen to our new podcast!
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What I love about each holiday season is that each is unlike any other before. The celebrations themselves usually stay within certain parameters but including different people in the mix or going to a new place during the season adds verve and just might open our perceptions. This is true of reading holiday stories from a variety of authors’ points of view, and in Festive Mayhem: Ten Stories of Holiday Mystery, Crime and Suspense (2020), Carolyn Marie Wilkins has collected works that celebrate diversity.
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Here is your weekly reminder that there are also new articles up on our other website KRL News & Reviews! Every week there will be book reviews and giveaways, plus sometimes pet articles, theatre articles, and more! And listen to our new podcast!
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Gabby Newman crept through her backyard watching the lantern in the tent turn her brother Steven, and his friend Miles, into shadow puppets. Steven was telling the same old story of the headless ghost.
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Bev trusted her instincts, always had. So far she figured that’s what had kept her out of harm’s way all these years. Her mother moaned and complained about all the crazy schemes that her daughter had come up with. Though this time her mother said that none of her other ideas sounded half as ridiculous as this one. “You’ll end up a pile of bones,” were her mother’s last words as Bev closed the door behind her and descended the steps of the front porch.
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No one in the neighborhood put on a better Halloween display than Diana Hunter. Every year, she added new decorations to scare young children and delight older trick-or-treaters. Last year, she hung a two-foot black velveteen spider from a wispy net between the birch trees; the net’s threads were so fine, trespassers who cut across her grass became entangled in the creature’s web.
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The five student nurses stood at the security desk, waiting. Outside the glass doors, a landscaped lawn gasped in the August heat.
“No answer,” the guard said, one hand over the phone’s mouthpiece. “He’s not in his office.”
One of the students, Nancy Hines, nodded. “We’re a little early—”
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“You should get rid of that damn cat,” Mark said for the umpteenth time.
I ignored him and continued wiping antiseptic on his arm, a task made more difficult by his squirming in anger and glaring at my beauteous kitty Lucy, who alternatively hissed at him and meowed at me for attention, even batting my arm as I tried to minister to Mark.
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I personally love collections: pins, movies, cookies, of course, and short stories. Short story collections afford me a marvelous opportunity to enjoy a variety of authors, many new to me, all at one time as well as being exposed to a variety of writing styles. These twenty-two shorts, edited by friend and author Judy Penz Sheluk, offer a glimpse into each author’s interpretation of the book’s theme “heartbreaks” and “half-truths.”
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Half a dozen servers gathered around Vince’s table and sang a jazzed-up version of Happy Birthday to him. There was a lot of hand clapping and stomping of feet. He shot his wife an I-thought-we-agreed-to-not-do-this-kind-of-crap look, but smiled at the singers. He politely said, “Thank you,” when they finished.
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