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Elena’s Tale – a morning at the gun club
An American Landscape Short Story Livermore Pleasanton Rod & Gun Club One Sunday morning On her first day off in several months, she pulled through the large parking lot, parked her gleaming white BMW 640i, and retrieved her shotgun and gear from the vehicle’s trunk. Her father gave her that shotgun when she had graduated from college. Her grandfather bought her the sports car when she joined the CIA. Both men were dead now. Shooting vest loaded with shells and with the 12-gauge Perazzi HT 2020 open and cradled over one shoulder, she headed toward the trap range office to find her squad and the day’s schedule. That’s when she…
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The Bitches in #366
The Unraveling of a Winner’s Tale (Author’s note: During a recent dinner party, one of the guests arrived late. She was abuzz with that afternoon’s acquisition of eighteen female mannequins for her boutique. She shared a picture of them in a storage unit, Unit #366.) Decisions are easy to make; sometimes they’re hard to live with. Imagine one of those TV mysteries that starts with a young woman walking a stream-side path during a misty night. Trees heavy with moss drip from a recent storm. Gravel crunches underfoot. She’s alone. The score is tense, the deep tones pounding, prickling your fight-or-flight responses. Her path is lit in a weak, sepia-orange light. She comes…
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La Petite Cathédrale d’Elsie
(Author’s note: This story was selected for the 2021 Napa Valley Writers group Anthology, Third Harvest, released December 8, 2021 – available HERE*) Father Paolo gripped his cloak tight around his face, bent into the snowstorm, and moved on. A numb grip held his walking staff; fingers a mottled pink and pale, ghostly white. Aroused by the assault of another gust, he realized he no longer climbed with each step. Was this the vale he sought? When the wind abated, snowflakes surrounding him held motionless, as if considering their mission toward earth. He caught the scent of burning wood. The snowflakes returned to their downward flutter. He stopped and turned toward…
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Laughter and a Boujee Camino
What makes you laugh (or cry)? I know it’s been a while. I’m finally feeling back to normal after returning from six weeks in Europe—where we launched the new novel Camino Child, and from New Jersey, where we saw one of our grandsons graduate from Coast Guard boot camp. Yes, we’re proud. In Europe, I spent weeks walking many a beautiful Camino mile and spreading the word about the book launch. I had tons of fun making new friends, breaking bread, walking, and talking. I ran into people I had met before and folks I had only known through Camino social media groups. I was even fortunate enough to see…
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Her Eyes Like Diamonds
An American Landscape Short Story Bodie Jacques is single. He drafts personal ads one after another, not finding the words. He casts his intentions to the universe. A shiny car parks near him. Out steps a supermodel. Over coffee, and from their respective tables, she talks Bodie into riding along on an errand she must run. At a ‘spooky’ mansion in the Heights, Bodie witnesses her take something. When the woman’s boyfriend wants it back, Bodie’s day goes from a happy Saturday off to a high-speed run for his live. The beautiful woman his pilot. Do you know someone who may like this story? Forward this page and they too…
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Thunder in the Mayacamas Range
An American Landscape Short Story Even though marijuana is now legal in California, illegal patches thrive in the hills of the state. And there is competition, even feuds among the growers. Why would they not be legal, you might ask? Regulations have proven challenging to work within, and—more commonly—these folks have been tending crops for generations and know no other life.Our tale, Thunder in the Mayacamas Range, shows us the tragic fallout from one night when two factions went to battle during a nasty thunderstorm.Who will survive, and who will have to live with the consequences? Do you know someone who may like this story? Forward this page and they…
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Not Your Average Contractor (AKA: Hitman)
A story about a hitman who doesn't kill his targets—what? Check it out.
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ICYMI (In Case You Missed It)
The Eighth is a short story in my American Landscape series. Please enjoy. What if Lucifer were reborn to a catholic family in the Bronx? Eleni is the eldest of eight children. She inherited the family apartment in Little Italy. She needs her husband of six months, Robert, to understand why she doesn’t want to have children, ever. When Eleni tells Robert about the evils her youngest brother, Daniel, has brought to the neighborhood and her family since he was a toddler, she can only hope that he will understand. What horrible things could Daniel have possibly done to make Eleni fear raising her own children? The Eighth An American Landscape Short Story…
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Bobby the Accountant – An American Landscape Short Story
Training for his first ultra-marathon, Bobby runs. The thirty-two-year-old lanky man runs every day. Today, he stops. At the edge of the dirt road, up Big Canyon Creek Valley, Bobby gazes into the brush, spying a shiny metal case. He leans left, bends down, shuffles a step to the right. Once a path through the scruffy foliage exposes itself, Bobby slinks and slides down a rocky slope to the would-be treasure. As he inspects the double set of latches on the aluminum case, he hears a noise. The whoosh of mechanical mayhem comes close. In a rush. Bobby slips deeper into the thicket and toward the creek bed below, while…
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Our Town’s Evil Clown
John: The man in the leisure suit came to town in 1938. Some folks laughed others sneered. Mother said never to judge. I saw the evil inside that suit. Every town needs a jester, they said. I could never agree. A town good enough did not need such a contrivance. All the same, they let him stay. None of the town’s people, not one of my friends or family ever believed the things I knew that beast capable of. Least of all my sister. Lynn: “You did not hear what you think you heard, last night. It is impossible, Johnny, simply impossible. I will grant you, though, we should never…
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