The shoes didn't fit. It was an omen.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

To Use or Not to Use Snippet

I thought I’d share this with all of you. My critters loved this piece but I haven’t decided if I will actually keep this in.  I may re-work into another chapter.

“Where do we hide with lightning? Don’t you know it’s not good to be under trees in weather like this?” A rain drop landed on my head. “With goons behind us.”

Within minutes rain drops pelted us. Orange streaks lit up the sky and thunder rumbled through it.

Cynthia grabbed my hand, and pulled me to an area of tall weeds and assorted Florida palms. They fitted snug into each other making the perfect hiding fortress. We both crouched behind them. Quarter-sized rain drops bombarded us. Lightning lashed out at the ground in the distance.

B.J. ran ahead into the watery veil, disappearing.

“I know I heard them,” Max said, a couple feet to my left.

My fingers trembled around my handgun. Rain blurred my vision. Cold shivers traveled up my spine and my teeth chattered together.

“Quiet,” Cynthia whispered, thumping my arm.

I bit my lower lip. “Ow,” I whispered.

“Shhh.” Cynthia parted the three foot palm trees and peeked out into the woods.

“I’m nervous and I need to pee real bad.” The pouring rain didn’t help.

Muddy grass sloshed near-by.

Cynthia closed the palm trees and held her lips pin straight. She gestured with her eyes and held her index finger to her mouth.

A twig snapped in front of us. The rain slowly stopped. I held my breath while Cynthia grabbed my hand and squeezed.

“They’re around here somewhere,” Max said. “I know it. I know I saw blood on the trail before it started to rain.”

“You think, Lila got shot?” Coon asked. “We shouldn’t have gotten her into this mess. I knew it.”

“Shut-up!” Max shouted. “She’s avowed to me. And she’s making no good on her wifely promises.”

Cynthia and I held onto each other, supporting one another in our squat positions. From the knee down every muscle went numb. My feet sunk into the muddy ground.

“So. What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Hey! You had no problem staring at her assets back at the motel,” Max said.

“What’d you expect? I’m a guy. Guys stare at naked women.”

Two more sets of shoes splashed near-by.

“You going yellow belly on us?” Cockroach said.

“Nah,” Vinny said. “He’s sweet on her. Can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind.”

Brandy whined, sniffing around our palm tree fortress.

A pair of muddy boots stood in front of the foliage.

“Shoo,” Cynthia whispered to Brandy. The dog ignored her.

“Aaaa—” I slapped my hand across my mouth and held my breath.

The mucky boots stepped into our hiding place. “Did you hear something?” Max said.

I looked up. Crapity-crap-crap-crap.

Max towered over us with his hands on his hips, looking out into the forest without looking down.

“I hear rain drops falling from the trees,” Cockroach said.

“Sounds more like someone breathing,” Max said, staring out into the forest.

I kept my hand over my mouth while Cynthia stroked Brandy’s head.

The other two in unison said, “We didn’t hear anything.”

Brandy wiggled further under the palm to rest her head on Cynthia’s knee.

Max took one step away from our hiding area.

I peeked out to where the four idiots stood.

An owl hooted somewhere close by and other birds chirped a symphony around us. Movement fluttered leaves above us, water droplets fell onto us, and a bird took flight when Cockroach walked toward Max. It flew low, flapping its wings and squawking.

Cockroach flailed his arms about.“Ah, shit!” he yelled. “Get that damn thing away from me.”

Coon ran to him, waving his arms at the bird. “For God’s sake, I’m beginning to think birds are taking over like in that Alfred Hitchcock movie. What was that movie called?”

The bird flew back up into the tree.

“The Birds. Dickweed,” Vinny said.

A small breeze wafted the scent of rosewater to my nose, and a small whirlwind whipped up around Max. Muddy leaves blew all around him.

“What the friggin—,” he said slapping at the leaves swirling around him. He backed farther away from our hiding spot.

“Ohhhhh,” Coon said. “You know. Maybe someone’s trying to tell us something. Like leave Lila alone”

“Will you shut up!” Max shouted. “”Get this shit off me!”

Brandy laid down between Cynthia and me.



Wednesday, November 9, 2011

A Message to My Hair Clients

First, I wish to apologize for loosing some of your numbers and e-mails. Secondly, I did not walk out or not show up for my shift. I gave a two week notice last Monday. And this past Monday, the manager called me requesting the shop key back and told me I was not needed to finish out the week. I know as of Monday, most of you have been told something different. Quite a few of you have called me.

And yes, I’m still doing hair. I moved to Fantastic Sams, located at, 13820 Little Rd. (at Hudson Avenue in the Publix Center). The phone number there is 727-869-9396. Also, I have a set schedule, Sunday 10-5, Monday and Wednesday 9-3, and, Thursday and Friday 2-8. You can also call ahead on the same day you wish to have your hair done to schedule an appointment.

I hope to see you all there and if I don’t, have a great holiday.


Tuesday, November 8, 2011

My Field Trip to A Gun Shop

I’ve been meaning to do this post for weeks now, but once again life has weaved it’s tricks in. 

Several Mondays ago, my critters informed me that I didn’t know jack-squat about rifles, shot-guns, and handguns. Well, to be honest, they were correct. A gun is a gun to me. It doesn’t matter how it operates, it still fires holes into things, animals, and people.

Lila, the main character in this novel, doesn’t know anything about them either but gets a fast lesson on them from her best friend, Cynthia. If you’ve read her character blog, you’ll learn she’s got herself in a pickle jar. Her life is in danger.

So I visited my local gun shop slash shooting range, The Firing Line, located on 6123 Ridge Rd., Port Richey, Florida. Their hours of operation are Monday through Friday, 10 AM to 8 PM, Saturday, 10 AM to 6 PM, and Sunday, 10 AM to 4 PM. Phone number: 727-849-7457.

I wanted to shout out a big thank you to Rob for showing me the difference between a shotgun and rifle.

For your information:

Rifles have metallic cartridges that look like little missiles. They are single projectiles and the caliber tells what size it is.

Shotguns have many shots. They're encased in a cylander with many pellet-type objects. A gage determines the size of the bullets.

Either of these can be loaded via a magazine clip.

A small handgun is also known as a glock. One must aim and fire unlike the shotgun and rifle. When holding the handgun pretend your hand is entering a handshake. This can also be loaded with a magazine clip.

These are a few things I learned. This information helps when I watch YouTube videos on the subject.

And before I close this post, I can't stress enough on research for your fiction novels. Do not bullshit your way through a novel. Readers get mad when you do. Become as knowledgable as possible on anything you have no clue about. Yes, it takes time but better to be safe than sorry. You want happy fans of your novels, not ones that will have your head on a platter.