Welcome to the WATCH “#RWISA” WRITE Showcase Tour! #RRBC #RRBCWRW Day 16

#RWISA author, Beem Weeks has given us a wonderful little story about a night long past. This is one of my favorite stories from the #RWISA tour, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

The Indie Spot!

The following is a short piece from a work in progress. This is a scene I pulled from my next novel and (hopefully) turned it into a short story.

Nightly Traipsing

By Beem Weeks

There might’ve been a dream. Or maybe not. Violet Glass really couldn’t recall. Probably, though. A dream concerning some stupid boy—or even a girl.

Whatever.

Can’t control what creeps through your sleep.

Her body stirred awake as the blackest part of night splashed its inky resolve across that part of Alabama.

Violet stared at the ceiling, tried like the dickens to recall a face, perhaps a voice—anything belonging to the one responsible for this latest agitation.

Nothing came through, though.

Even dead of night did little to lay low that sticky heat. Old-timers in town swore oaths affirming this, the summer of 1910, to be more oppressive than any other summer since before the war…

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Welcome to the WATCH “#RWISA” WRITE Showcase Tour! #RRBC #RRBCWRW Day 15

I hope you enjoy this touching story from #RWISA author, Gwen Plano.

The Indie Spot!

MOM’S FINAL WORDS

By Gwen M. Plano

Worn out by time, mom lay motionless on the sheets. Life lingered but imperceptibly. At ninety-one, she had experienced the full range of life’s challenges. And, now, she rested her aged shell of a body and waited.

A farmer’s daughter and wife, her life was marked by practicalities and hard work. Always up before daybreak, she prepared the meals, washed the clothes and hung them on the clothesline, and otherwise attended to the needs of the household.

Her garden was a cornucopia of tomatoes and corn, of squash and lettuces. And the refrigerator always had freshly gathered eggs and newly churned butter.

Mom rarely paused, to catch her breath, to offer a hug, or to sit calmly. Time is not to be wasted, she taught. And so, she was always busy.

Over the years, there were multiple times that she almost died…

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Welcome to the WATCH “#RWISA” WRITE Showcase Tour! #RRBC Harriet Hodgson (@healthmn1) #RRBCWRW

Please take a look at the following piece from #RWISA author, Harriet Hodgson. Thought-provoking and inspiring, I think it will strike a chord with all who read it.

Shirley Harris-Slaughter

Welcome to the world of…

Author Harriet Hodgson

LOOK OUT WORLD: A LOVING GRANDMA IS ON DUTY

By Harriet Hodgson

Recently I read some blog posts by grandmas. Though a
few posts were positive, most were negative. The grandmas couldn’t seem to find
anything positive to say about aging or the wisdom they had acquired. My
reaction to aging is different. Because I’m a grandma, I’m saying and doing
things I’ve never done before. Maybe I need a badge that says GRANDMA ON DUTY!

I’m on marriage duty.

My husband’s aorta dissected in 2013 and he had three
emergency operations. During the third one he suffered a spinal cord injury
that paralyzed his legs. Since I drove him to the hospital emergency department
I’ve been his caregiver and advocate. Although we have a less mobile life these
days, we have a good life, and are more in love than ever…

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Welcome to the WATCH “#RWISA” WRITE Showcase Tour! #RRBC Robert Fear (@fredsdiary1981) #RRBCWRW

I liked this little story by #RWISA author, Robert Fear. I hope you like it, too.

Shirley Harris-Slaughter

I’d like to introduce to you….

Author Robert Fear

Afternoon cycle ride by Robert Fear

Ibiza, May 1977

As I set out on my cycle
ride, the streets of Es Cana were busy with pale-faced holidaymakers exploring their
new surroundings. I almost collided with a couple who looked the wrong way as they
crossed the road.

The hire bike was a boneshaker, and as I headed
out of town to the west, the road surface was uneven. The ride became rougher,
and I swerved to avoid potholes. Shocks vibrated through the handlebars and I lost
my grip twice. Despite this, the breeze in my face and the sun on my back felt
good.

Roads twisted and turned as I followed the coast
around Punta Arabi and through the outlying villages. I passed pine tree
fringed sandy beaches and caught glimpses of the sea. New tourist developments
dotted the coastline, in…

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Welcome to the WATCH “#RWISA” WRITE Showcase Tour! #RRBC @dlfinnauthor #RRBCWRW

Shirley Harris-Slaughter

MEET…

AUTHOR D. L. Finn

Here is her works…

Poetry by D. L. Finn

DARKNESS

The air is thick as you breathe it in

Filling your lungs with its silence.

It unnerves you when you’re alone

Because in the darkness there are shadows.

They are filled with the unknown

While the quiet is lurking with danger.

It’s unseen, watching while your heart is racing

And your skin drenched in sweat, you scan the night.

You see nothing and hear nothing

Yet, you know it’s there.

You hurry back into the light where it’s safe

Shut the door and lock it with a sigh of relief.

You quickly forget the darkness

But, what you don’t know is…

It
hasn’t forgotten you.

We
fly by the ranches…

TO FLY (Musings from the Back of a Harley)

Cows,
goats, and horses.

Grazing
golden-grass untroubled…

As
we rumble loudly past them.

The
ponds are…

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Welcome to the WATCH “#RWISA” WRITE Showcase Tour! #RRBC

An interesting story from #RWISA author, Jan Sikes. I recently read her book, Flowers and Stone, and it’s fantastic!

http://bit.ly/FlowersAndStone

Shirley Harris-Slaughter


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Please give a warm welcome to…

Author Jan Sikes

Here is a sample of her work…

PARADISE
BELOW

JAN
SIKES

Emma Dupont shifted her backpack and
lowered her head as she struggled through the crowded street. Panic struck as
the sunlight faded.

It
would mean sure death to get caught out after dark

“Watch
where you’re goin’, you stupid bitch!”

Rough
hands shoved her into the edge of speeding traffic. With great effort, she
steadied herself, stepped back onto the sidewalk, and quickened her pace.

Making
sure no one noticed her, she ducked into an alleyway and banged on the side of a
blue dumpster with a series of raps. A camouflaged door slid open.

She
tossed her backpack inside then hurried down the metal steps into the arms of a
dark-haired man who held her while she sobbed.

“Susan,
please bring Emma a cup of tea,” he instructed.

A

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Welcome to the WATCH “#RWISA” WRITE Showcase Tour! #RRBC

A great poem from #RWISA author, Mary Adler.

Shirley Harris-Slaughter

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It is my pleasure to introduce…

Author Mary Adler

MARY ADLER PIC

Here is a sample of her work…

WHERE IS THE EQUATOR OF HOPE?

Mary Adler

Where is the equator of Hope?

The Prime Meridian for Love?

The coordinates of Joy?

And where are Lewis & Clark,

            to run the rapids of envy

            and resolve new paths to the heart?

Where is the 39th Parallel of desire?

The Northwest Passage to bliss?

The Gulf Stream that warms cold ashes?

And where dwells the Copernicus of Compassion,

            who swears love spins on its own axis,

            yet revolves around the other.

Where is the Mason Dixon line for the past?

The trade winds of remembrance?

The magnetic fields of memory?

And where is the Galapagos of grace,

            where the self evolves to the selfless,

            and the soul embraces the stranger?

Oh, where is the cartographer of Love,

To…

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Welcome to the WATCH “#RWISA” WRITE Showcase Tour! #RRBC

Please welcome one of my favorite #RRBC #RWISA authors, Suzanne Burke! 😃

Shirley Harris-Slaughter

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Give a Warm Welcome to…

Author Suzanne Burke

suzanne-burke

“Shielded”

By

Suzanne Burke

I welcome the shield provided by darkness. Those sweet moments when I allow myself to sit in the velvet depth of silence and dwell only on what is to come.

For the past only exists to remind me of the challenges I failed to meet. The things I thought myself powerless to change. I know better now.

I have no room for failure here as I sit wrapped in the warm blanket of my darkness-inspired illusion of safety.

The soft glow of the clock now heralds your arrival. I feel my pulse jump in anticipation.

I check the window … again. No vehicle yet slows to a stop on the rain-drenched streets so many floors below.

I feel the twitch of the nerve in my jaw and suck in the air in an effort to still it.

I…

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Welcome to the WATCH “#RWISA” WRITE Showcase Tour! #RRBC

Another fun little story from #RWISA. 😀

Shirley Harris-Slaughter

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Please give a warm welcome to…

Author John W. Howell

john-howell-photo

Trouble by John W. Howell ©2108 Word count 1439

I know its morning, but I don’t want to open my eyes. I am starting to remember what went on last night and I don’t even want to imagine who might be sleeping next to me. Not that I think there is anyone there since I’m pretty sure I came home alone. I didn’t want to go back alone, and god knows I tried hard to prevent sleeping by myself. I do remember coming on to the beautiful woman in the bar. Wait a minute. I remember it because it was so early in the evening, I didn’t have a lot to drink then. I know I drink too much and lately, I have been having a hard time getting the events of the previous night together. Okay, so before I…

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Welcome to the WATCH “#RWISA” WRITE Showcase Tour! #RRBC

I hope you are enjoying the Watch #RWISA Write Showcase as much as I am. 😀

Shirley Harris-Slaughter

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INTRODUCING…

Author Wendy Scott 

wendy-scott

HERE IS AN EXCERPT!

The Cowgirls of Serratogha

By Wendy Scott.

A companion scene to my fantasy WIP, ‘Rainmaker’.

My spirits lifted when I spied structures rising above the prairie. For the last three days, the landscape had consisted of uninterrupted cornflower skies above an endless sea of grassland. Occasionally, a wild cow had burst out of the greenery and trotted alongside the horses, before abandoning our company to munch on the juiciest shoots lining the roadside.

I grasped the seat as my boss snapped the reins, urging the horses to quicken their pace. The wooden wheels creaked, and the glass bottles in the back of the wagon chinked together, but Zachery didn’t ease up. Towns equalled business and Dr. Zachery Theopold Montgomery knew how to charm the purse strings open from even the most sceptical non-believers.

This place wasn’t like any of the other towns…

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