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Upcoming Titles

Release date April 18, 2020

Woke up to wonderful news in the old inbox this morning. One of my shorts, ‘Research for a Better Tomorrow’ has been selected for inclusion in an anthology by Suicide Press. You can pre-order here, if you’re interested. The theme is creepy, crawly insect horror, and the piece was super fun to write.

Release date March 1, 2020

I also have the privilege of sharing the pre-order link for ‘Horror USA: Washington’, set for release in March. The anthology is part of a collection that focuses on horror stories set in each specific state, and the research for my short lead me to write about a jealous, sensual ghost named Judy.

I’ve been writing and editing and submitting, and every acceptance is a victory worth celebrating! Thanks to everyone who’s supporting me on this amazing, sometimes hectic, journey!

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New Year Update

Working on a BIG project over the next couple months, in addition to all the shorts I’m submitting. The big one is ALL mine.

Need to get back into the habit updating my blog AND plan to revamp its layout, too…as well as organizing my writing projects to hold myself accountable to my goals.

Other works in progress: Detective Duval, Deanna’s Story (working title), Full Moon (working title), and the R-E-A-D series.

You don’t get big if you don’t GO big, right?

Anyway, the image is beautiful, and it’s gonna be amazing as the cover of my OWN book. 😍

#bumpinthenight #myownanthology #allmyownwork

On Loving a Mermaid

This piece was my actual entry for the microfiction contest. It felt like it had all the right bits and I’m pretty proud of it.

Amy was like a mermaid. She taught me how to swim the summer before our senior year of highschool.

We would hike to the hidden lake just outside our rural city for lessons. Afterward, we would giggle, racing barefoot up the sandy shore to dry bikini clad bodies in the sun beside a faded pop-up tent.

We recycled broken bottles into windchimes, knotting strands together with fishing line before hanging them carefully among the tree branches overhead. The blazing sun reflected through
each shard, bathing us in a lazy kaleidoscope of shimmering colors that reminded me of mermaid scales. She was beautiful.

One afternoon Amy raised a cupped hand to my ear, fingers pruned from hours in the water. We’d been wrestling and splashing like fools, leaving me breathless. Muscles trembling.

Amy whispered softly.


“I’ve wanted to kiss you since ninth grade.”


My grey eyes locked with hers. A palpable current exchanged between us. Longing.


Beside the tent, amid rainbow reflections projected by tinkling glass, my mermaid taught me about more than just swimming.


Later, I pulled a strand of tinted fragments from the tree. A souvenir.


I was exhilarated, but also young and insecure. Afraid of drowning in the tumultuous ocean of my feelings.


She already had her sea legs, my mermaid. I’ve just learned to walk on mine, twenty years later.


I wonder where Amy is now as I stare at the bits of broken glass hanging from my kitchen window.


I’m finally ready to swim.

Who Says No to a Mermaid?

Last weekend was round two of the micro fiction challenge at NYCMidnight. I was assigned romance, the act of recycling, and the word exchange. The genre was terrifying to me, and I submitted a different story all together. Still, I like the idea of a romance blossoming in a recycling plant, and didn’t want this one to go to waste.

-Image Credit Nelsonmakesart.com

I’m imagining things. Alice isn’t really touching her long, wavy blonde hair and half smirking every time I look up at her. She’s like a mermaid, aquamarine eyes and tan skin illuminated by reflections cast from the oncoming conveyor-belt currents of lableless bottles. The colors as the sunlight glints through the multi-colored glasses paints her in a living school of ever changing rainbow-fish. 

I blush. Go back to sorting the plastic from the paper in the sea of reusable refuse at my station. There’s no way that gorgeous creature is trying to flirt with me.

A polite whistle wails. Time for lunch.

I enter the ladies room, needing soap and water after touching who knows what. Bubbles foam up between my fingers. Sugary coconut fills the air as I wash the morning’s grit from my nails.

The bathroom door swings wide. I look into the mirror. Find my grey eyes meeting with aquamarine in the reflection.

Her smile is dazzling. And meant for me. It must be. I’m the only one here.

She sashays forward, fluid in her perfection, to squeeze beside me at the sink. Our shoulders touch. 

“I love coconuts,” she says, that familiar half-smirk playing across her lips as runs her hand over mine to steal my soap. The slippery exchange leaves my heart hammering. “Wanna sit with me for lunch? I promise not to bite.”

“S-sure,” I respond, grinning stupidly.

Who says no to a mermaid?

Five Sentences 1.6

I’ve submitted Monkey Business to a weekly women’s magazine after spending hours and hours trying to find it a home. I’m crossing my fingers they’ll take a chance on light-hearted monkey love.

I also discovered I never actually published this weeks five sentences. You know what they say.

Better late, than never.

-image credit shutterstock.com

 “It burned her throat and she shivered before the warmth spread through her stomach. She felt her cheeks flush.

Tossing the cup into the fire, Eimear reached up to pull her curls back with an elastic from her wrist. The wind shifted, cooling the summer sweat from the nape of her neck. She had a moment to appreciate the gentle breeze and the growing fuzziness of her mind that was entirely too focused on life, abandonment, her father…

A twig snapped in the shadowy tree line behind her.”

Monkey Business

Monkey Business was the first competition entry I wrote for NYCMidnight. The genre was Rom-Com and admittedly I don’t feel there was enough Comedy to fit the genre criteria. Still, a lovely romance story that garnered several postive reviews on the forums there.

Monkey Business

A sparkling treasure leads to an atypical, lighthearted romance inside an animal refuge.


Brown eyes flecked with gold peered around the roots of a walking palm tree. Wide and curious. Studying the goings on near the pond with raw fascination. The enclosure had always belonged to him and him alone. Well, him and the multicolored swimmers in the pond who’s scales could dazzle him for hours when mother sun shone pregnant and full on the rippling water. Silver, gold, white, black, translucent, his koi fish would sail endlessly just beneath the surface, long tail fins gliding smoothly over the pebbled bottom before parting gracefully if he decided to reach in for a splash to either bathe or drink. Sometimes they even surfaced to eat an insect he had pulled from his fur and dropped for them. An offering of friendship accepted gratefully by mouths open wide and a flurry of color and glitter. Momentary awe. He liked the swimmers, content with these brief interactions and solitude.

Until now.

Now, there was an Other near his swimmers. But Other wasn’t looking at the swimmers…or feeding them…or appreciating them.

No.

Other was intently inspecting the ground near the edge of his pond, gazing at something else entirely unseen by him. While his eyes observed similar brown fur, his nostrils flared allowing Other’s scent to reach him. It was familiar, dusky and of the earth, faintly of fruit long since eaten…and something more. It was a tingling, pleasant smell that made him feel warm and excited his curiosity ever further. Fearful and uncertain of Other, his mind signaled to both investigate and remain in hiding at the same time. After all, the swimmers were safe, and the cloud-cover overhead was allowing sufficient shade to remain camouflaged in the foliage should he choose to remain still and observe for a while longer…but what was Other looking at?

It was in the middle of this tug-of-war that Mother Sun provided further enticement. Breaking through the clouds to emit shafts of golden light illuminating the glittering pond and Other, who had, at that precise moment, plucked something dainty from the enclosure floor.

His heart raced as sunlight saturated Other’s fur, now incandescent with undertones of rich red and warm highlights of deep gold. Dark skinned heavily creased fingers had collected and held up to the light a treasure, glinting in the distance as Other peered at it closely with profound brown eyes. Eyes like his, flecked with gold. Other squinted at the round, tan object, testing it’s feel between analogous lips before spitting it back out and raising it to the light again. A happy sound erupted , like laughter. Other began spinning around in dizzying circles, raising the treasure up before rolling around on the ground in apparent glee while he remained rooted in place, awestruck by the resplendent display.

This was far more exciting than any exchange with the swimmers! He felt himself drawn to Other, the uninhibited demonstration dazzling his thoughts. Then Other was up again peering through four small holes in the center of the treasure at their surroundings. He held his breath when Other spotted him in the tree line and hesitated, slowly lowering the treasure and inhaling deeply. Other took in the sight and smell of him, eyeing him coyly.

Expressive eyes over a trusting smile.. A trusting grow. Other invited him closer, holding out the treasure in their wrinkled palm.

It was really the treasure that had done it, he believed, emerging cautiously from the protection of the trees into the golden light. Not the site of Other awash in Mother Sun’s glow, glittering ten times greater than his swimmers, or the smell of Other, warm and sweet and so like his own, but also so different…

No.

The treasure lured him into the sun, reaching with his own dark fingers to timidly collect the offering. Other pounded their palms on the ground, screeching merrily and splashing him with water before hopping a few feet away. He let himself give chase, catching Other near the far side and pulling them into the clear, shallow pond. Sheepishly, he pointed out the clinquant swimmers now gliding around their intertwined feet.

Other chuffed happily, snatching the treasure back and bounding toward fruit that had been piled near the treeline. Carefully selecting a banana, Other nibbled coquettishly before throwing the remaining bits at him in a flirtatious act. He loped up to the mound of fruit, rumbling affectionately at Other before returning fire with a partially eaten orange. Other tumbled at him playfully before leading another pursuit back to the sparkling water.

It was there at the edge of the water with his swimmers gliding happily around them that he gave a name to Other, deciding that they would be friends after all.

She, he thought, pulling a flea from her face and dropping it down for the koi to eat. She’s pupils widened as she scooted closer to him, fingers massaging his arms and face looking for tasty snacks for their swimmers. He would share them with She and only She. He offered a palm of cold water when the grooming was finished , which was happily accepted. She then carefully deposited the small, tan treasure gently between his closing fingers.


The zookeeper who had introduced Cookie into Charles’ enclosure hardly gave a thought to the button missing from the pocket below the “Monkey Business, Primate Rescue and Refuge” logo on his shirt. He briefly fingered the button hole before shrugging and locking up his office for the night.


Sister Moon now reigned the evening sky, enveloping the enclosure and two content monkeys, sleeping arms entwined near the edge of a koi pond, in sparkling light. Beside them a tan, plastic button floated amid the dazzling scales of swimmers, gleaming in the moonlight.

Five Sentences 1.5

Charlie has been a monumental lesson in manuscript formatting and cover letter etiquette. I’m fixing him up for another round of submissions while working on another in the R-E-A-D series, S-P-A-C-E.

I won’t give up on my spectacle wearing kiddo.

Working on multiple other projects, some short, some long. Some deadlines are looming and I still have blank pages staring back at me, waiting for inspiration.

For now, I’ll leave you with this weeks installment of five sentences. Can you guess with Eimear is drinking at this bonfire?

-image credit shutterstock.com

“So here she was. Watching fire motes dance into the air, observing the moon, listening to some pop floozy playing over somebody’s truck stereo at full blast.

The air smelled like scorched, damp, rotted wood.

Eimear gagged a little. Sighed. Took a drink from a red solo cup a fellow party goer had refilled for her. It was something thick, fiery, sweet. Cinnamon syrup and hairspray burn set her throat on fire.”

Five Sentences 1.4

While awaiting my first ever publishing contract (still feels like a dream) I’ve finished a short about the bonds of friendship between a 12 year old boy and his elderly neighbor, Robert Jones.

But this post isn’t about all that. It’s weekly installment time, and the next five sentences are posted below!

“Daithe had always been good at making friends, in fact seemed to need them.

Eimear had not, did not, and made a concerted effort to make sure nobody else thought she did. Where Daithe could be found at the front of a group, talking openly to any and everyone, planning weekend parties and study groups, Eimear was more likely to be found in the back of the class, dark hoodie pulled low over ringlets of auburn hair.

Daithe was the only person she had in the world, and Daith demanded a party, so she’d agreed. Daithe, who seemed much too excited to drink watered down beer and roast cheap dollar store hotdogs over burning rotted fiberboard from a nearby abandoned house and some felled logs, but still insisting on something more special than vanilla frosting and sprinkles for her special day.”

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