“And just WHAT the hell do you think you’re lookin at?” Eddy doesn’t answer. He doesn’t say a word. Eddy knows what is going to happen next and it doesn’t matter if he speaks or not. It wouldn’t matter if he were the world’s greatest orator and philosopher since Forrest Gump. This blowhard is out to impress upon the world that he’s important and hell-bent on doing it as physically as possible to anyone who can’t get out of the way fast enough. “Hey asshole, I’m talking to YOU! You ooglin’ Brenda?” Eddy finishes his water with lime and lays another buck on the bar as a goodnight tip to Brenda. He knows she is going to have to put up with this stupid drunk until his buddies convince him to leave or until he’s…
Three Things I Learned Last Summer, by Jason Brick
I learned three things last summer. The first thing I learned was: don’t get drunk on margaritas with your best friend’s wife when it’s just the two of you alone on the deck looking out at a once-in-a-lifetime drop-dead perfect June sunset and the air is warm and clean with a caressing wind coming in off the desert with the scent of spice and the promise of your heart’s desire. It wasn’t as if we hadn’t been drunk together before. Or alone together. Or even drunk together all alone. When it’s your best friend’s wife, and she’s been married to him eight years, you wind up doing most things together at one time or another. The four of us had gotten hammered together with fair regularity, and to say we were comfortable with one another…
Fissure Free, a Novel by Shari J. Ryan
Editor’s Note: The following excerpt is from Fissure Free, Book Two in the Schasm Series by Shari J. Ryan. This romantic, suspenseful, and engaging sequel reunites the colorful cast of friends and family with a powerful tribute to the power of the mind and heart. After nineteen years of suffering with a psychological condition, ethereal Chloe has finally come close to finding her ultimate escape—or so she thinks as she walks the vibrant streets of Paris. Finally in a relationship with Alex, the man she fell in love with in Schasm, Chloe thinks life is finally coming together. As she battles her own demons, she attempts to repair the damaged man she’s grown to love. But as his clouded past abruptly crashes into their lives and falls heavily upon their budding romance, Chloe must fight to maintain her…
“Balancing Act” by Jane Ward
8:45 AM Wednesday, July 15th, 2006 It’s a delicate balance, really. I want to be here early enough to beat the crowds of summer people. Early enough that all I can hear are the waves slapping against the shore instead of the screams of small children resisting sun screen applications. Early enough that all I can see when I look over the top of my John Grisham paperback are the water, the buoys that signal how far out you’re allowed to swim, and way out, across the miles, the faint, mist-enveloped outline of Long Island. But I also want to be here late enough that the sun is shining in full force so that it has a fighting chance at blending the horrendous tan lines I’ve incurred this summer. There’s the obvious “farmer tan” or…
Here’s The Truth, a Novel by Susan Casey
Editor’s note: This is an excerpt from a young adult (YA) novel-in-progress. CHAPTER ONE: Day 1 I used to think living was harder than swimming through glue. But now, since I’ve been locked up in juvie for the past three months, I realize that my pre-jail life was a freaking breeze. Jail will do that to you; change your mind about things. A girl can do a shitload of thinking over the course of two thousand one hundred and forty hours. Trust me. I’ve thought A LOT about what I did to get myself tossed in an eight by ten foot cell, staring out the tiny window on the back wall. And there’s nothing to look at but the tall wire fence that wraps around the place like a giant handcuff. Here’s The Truth:…
“Call Me Harry” a Novel by Randy Cade
Note: This is an excerpt from the novel, Call Me Harry: Murderer, Bank Robber or Mayor?, which is available as a Kindle book. It is Volume 1 in The Harry Parnes Series. A sequel will be published int Fall, 2014. Harold ”Harry” Parnes, 63 years old, has just been released (again) from a prison in New Mexico. He’s walking the dirt road from the prison toward the town of Mesa Rock. A car passes by. The Toyota Camry stopped and I was glad. I was parched, my forehead was blazing from sunburn, my knee was throbbing and I was closer to panic than I had been since my first seven years worrying about the cellmeat in prison. I heard music, a thunderous, monotonous, pulsing drop beat with angry Afro Americans mumbling rhythmic pornographic curses. Hip…
Lucky, by Jason Brick
Good afternoon, y’all. First off, I really want to thank everybody for coming on out today and giving old Lawrence the sort of sendoff he deserves. I know if he was here to see it, our friend would be just beside himself with joy at all this. Except for the being dead part, I mean. I don’t suppose he’d be too thrilled about that. Well, when Lawrence’s ma asked me to say a few words today, I almost told her no. I’m not too great in front of crowds and all. But Lawrence, well, I know he’da been there for me. So here I am. And here’s what I have to say. I sure hope it’s okay enough. We called him Lucky, the boys and me did, even back when we were all kids. And…
Shallow, by Benjamin J. Trosper
I. Late, as always, but I suppose specters have no clock. “Would you like another Coke?” My waitress, heavy enough to be a mother with a face twice as harsh, did not bother to catch my eye, but how could she when the shadows cast over the tables were deeper than those over the bar? I looked down into my glass. Dark fizzy foam reminded me where I was, corner booth facing glass splintered with girls. Hot and hotter underneath their sweatshirts and sweat soaked into their hair. There she sits . . . and I softly whispered to myself, as I did on the landing between staircases at home and at school, “Hey . . . Nicole.” “Mr. King of. . .” My waitress blinked, as if tricked by the light. “King of Night-marez?”…
“Remedium” a Novel by Caitlin M. Park
Editor’s note: This excerpt is from Remedium, a novel-in-progress. Hot white light reflected off Noah’s irises. A beam of sunshine illuminated the corner where she slept in a cot. Her room was the size of a closet. She curled her body in a transparent sheet, soaking in the last comforts of sleep. Her thoughts lingered on the pills stashed underneath her cot. The bones of her arms and legs, all the way up her spine, ached for the Remedine. “These will help a little,” she whispered to herself with a sleepy smile. She reached under the creaking bed, searching for a metal lipstick case. Grasping it, she popped off the lid and shook two round purple pills into her palm. She chewed and swallowed them without water, savoring even the bitter taste, feeling them slide…
Arecibo, a Poem by Jack B. Rochester
Arecibo Observatory photography by Stephen Alvarez There were others, of course, But I will never forget you and how we met At the farmer’s market, Oranges and cantaloupes and figs all around us, The hot sun catching the color of your cheeks, your hair, Your olive-black Spanish eyes smiling up at me, Your lips ripe and luscious as the fruits And how we walked through San Juan, Laughing at the children dancing for money in the street; As night fell we stood on the edge of Aricebo And you took my hand and held it tight and I swear I could hear the voices of the stars as they fell to the coil; We ate crab legs and drank dark, syrupy rum At a shack on the beach until our mouths buzzed Then we…