Image by Jess Watters from Pixabay |
Once again...
I am
proud to announce that the generous folks at The Wild Rose Press...from
authors to editors to the owners...have compiled a three-volume
anthology to raise money to help the poor folks in Australia. The
authors (48, I believe!) donated a short story and the staff busted
their buns to get them ready for publication in a matter of weeks.
I wanted to share excerpts from some of the short stories I was privileged to read. I will post over the next few days and I ask that you help spread the word.
Ideally, purchasing directly from The Wild Rose Press will garner the most money for the fund, since there will not be the cut that goes to AMZ, but unfortunately, the shipping is fairly steep unless several copies are being purchased.
Australia Burns: Show Australia Some Love, Vol. 1
Tall Tales
by
Laura Strickland
Excerpt
by
Laura Strickland
Excerpt
The
oldsters—six in number besides Deacon—exchanged dour looks with one
another. Not one of them there hadn’t
heard the “Mongolian” story at least a dozen times. True, it wasn’t always the same: sometimes Deacon
exaggerated one detail or another, turning the Mongolian into a professional
wrestler or the noodles into a tasty can of stew.
Wiley,
who’d been the town’s grease monkey until he retired, pulled a stogie from his
pocket and then put it away again, hastily. They were allowed to smoke out on
the porch, but if he lit up in the store, Eric Nielson’s wife, Donna, would
come down on him like ten exes. Wiley
thought about going on home, but the rain drummed on the roof of the store with
the intensity of a maniacal rock drummer.
He also considered calling Deacon on the veracity of his stories,
telling him he was full of hot air, but bit his tongue instead.
“Well
then,” Deacon started up again, wheezing like a bagpipe, “did I ever tell you
’bout the time Martians landed in the back forty out at Henderson’s farm? A
clear night it was, and I was walking home after delivering Elmer Wright’s kid.
Not his blood kid, you understand, but the goat his prize nanny was carrying.
She was having trouble giving birth, and Elmer knew what a deft hand I was with
small stock. He sent his boy Timmy
running to fetch me and I delivered him a fine, strapping billy goat, too big
in the head for his ma to manage alone.”
You’re big in the head, Wiley thought with a wave of annoyance. Why couldn’t the old fella let someone else
get a word in edgewise? “Anybody want a game of checkers?” he proposed, hoping
to head off the remainder of the Martian story.
“Now hold
on, young fellow, you just listen. No need to get all impatient.” Deacon broke
into a wide grin, which didn’t do his face any favors. The man had lost his dentures years ago, and
beneath the battered old cap he always wore, he was all gums and wrinkles.
“Listen up and you might learn something.”
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Author's links:
Website
Facebook
Author Amazon page
Goodreads page
Twitter: Laura Strickland Author @LauraSt05038951
Bookbub
Instagram
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Author's links:
Website
Author Amazon page
Goodreads page
Twitter: Laura Strickland Author @LauraSt05038951
Bookbub
Thanks for your wonderful efforts editing this story, and thanks for promoting!
ReplyDeleteHappy to do so, Laura. Thank you for contributing to this very worthy cause!
Deletei shared this one too.
ReplyDeletesherry @ fundinmental
We appreciate all of your efforts, sherry. Thank you so much!
Delete