Chain Linked Stories: 6.19.18

The day has finally arrived when CHAIN LINKED will be let loose on the world. It’s been a long journey to publication, almost nine years of hard work and perseverance. I weathered countless rejections and cynics, took workshops, and classes, and just sat down and wrote. It’s a constant battle to pluck the prose from the depths and to plaster it on to the page, but as a writer I am compelled to do so. I’ve had many cheerleaders, readers, and mentors along the way who propelled me onward and I want to thank them from the bottom of my heart. 

I hope you enjoy the book, that it makes you smile, that it transports you to a place that is familiar or unknown, and that it makes you feel something.

 And with that I offer to you a dream come true, CHAIN LINKED STORIES…

MBW

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6.19.18- Chain Linked Stories (Post Hill Press/ Simon & Schuster)
 
 

The Reluctant Spectator- The Good Luck Bar

ImageThe “Good Luck “ sign was illuminated and bright. It looked like a beacon to Emily. She starred up mesmerized by the neon’s bright primary hues . The writing was messy and causal, like it had been painted in quick brush strokes.

“All right, here goes nothing,” she mumbled and walked towards the front door.

She pulled hard on the large brass doorknob, which was shaped into the head of a dragon with his mouth wide open ready to bite you in two. The inside wasn’t terribly crowded, Emily spotted a few groups of friends scattered and sipping cocktails. The bar was decked out in oriental parlor chic with red silk patterned wallpaper and matching Chinese lanterns. The decor gave an overall smoky vibe, which was surprisingly relaxing, but also seedy.

Emily scanned the room searching for Kevin. Her first thought was that maybe he didn’t come and that she was here all by herself like a dummy, but upon a second glance she saw him standing at the end of the bar in a group of five or six. She was relieved, but also annoyed because if he didn’t show she could have gone home and enjoyed the glory and notion that at least she had tried.

The Reluctant Spectator

It was just after sunset and the sky was a pinky orange sliver. The warm Santa Ana’s blew a hot breeze at the palm trees which swayed energetically. The pink balloons on the mailbox tried to  break free from their tethered prison. Emily could still hear the chatter from the party and the clinking of silverware even as she got closer to her car. The neighborhood had a relaxed calmness despite the parties muffled chaos.  It was nice to hear it from afar. Emily reached her Volvo, which was dusty and covered with leaves from the strong winds. She wiped her hands along the hood clearing out a spot to lean up against. She turned to face the house to watch the bustling party in the large Bay window. It was dark now, so the lights from inside illuminated the guests going about their regular party business. The need to cry had dissipated and she could appreciate it with more clarity from this safe distance, from atop her trusty Volvo.