Come on in! The coffee’s fresh, and for the moment at least, the dog is sleeping, the kids are reading, and the house is quiet. It’s the perfect time to relax and take a break. Let’s be honest, these breaks don’t come often. Between work, parenting, homeschooling, and general life, there’s a lot going on! Even though the details of your life might be different than mine, I’ll bet you know what it’s like to sit down after a long day and realize it’s the first quiet moment you’ve had to yourself since you got up this morning.
Want to know more about what really goes on in the life of a writer, or how I came to this point where I can honestly say “I write stories for a living” – or in my snarkier moments when I say “I’m a professional liar?” Here’s my official bio. Check out my blog as well, where I post a little bit of everything, because everything is story fodder!
The truth is, I’ve been telling stories since I was four years old. I’ve always written the stories I most wanted to read. Now, as an adult, I still write the stories I want to read when I finally have time to curl up with a good book. I hope you’ll come with me, and abandon this world of dishes and deadlines for a while. Larger-than life heros wait for us just around the next bend, and the battle between good and evil still rages on. Let’s be free of tired old reality for a bit, and know the thrill of that first glance into the eyes of a soul-mate.
The dishes will still be here when we get back – I promise.
Want to get right to the good stuff?
Among other things, I write serial flash fiction stories. I post new installments to the blog every Monday, but you can be the first to find out what happens next – just enter your email address below, and I’ll send you the next chunk of the story on Friday afternoons. Don’t worry – I don’t have time to fill up your inbox with spam! All you’ll get from me are stories, and the occasional announcement when I publish elsewhere.
My newest flash fiction story is a modern fairy tale called The King is Called Home. Sign up now to get the next installment early!
Want a taste of my storytelling style? I’ve posted the beginning of The King is Called Home right here. Enjoy!
Megan tossed in her bed, unable to sleep. She usually slept well when she visited Castle Scardaugh for the Gathering. Every summer, anyone in Corlaund with even a hint of royal blood descended upon the old feudal palace for two weeks to take part in the festivities. The media loved it, of course, and tourists filled the villages and hotels for miles around to get a glimpse of Europe’s last feudal government in action.
This year’s Gathering started, as every Gathering for 800 years, with a state dinner designed to give minor nobility their annual opportunity to feel important. Some simply toasted the king and encouraged others to do the same, reminding the gathered nobles that the strength of Corlaund lie in its loyalty. Others gave lengthy rants on the myriad problems of the kingdom. Megan let her mind wander back to the first opening feasts in the grand hall at Scardaugh. How different they must have been, before Corlaund became quite so civilized. She noticed this year, the speeches seemed much more strident than usual. Even meaningless toasts to the king’s health were delivered with the force of a dueling challenge.
At least the speeches and toasts would only last as long as the meal. Once the final course was cleared away, everyone would drift across the corridor to the ballroom to dance, and try to work off the mountain of calories they just consumed. Megan glanced to the head table as her father, the Duke of Boderlund, stood to deliver his toast. Brian, nineteen and intensely handsome, sat just to the right of his father, Niall, King of Corlaund. Brian caught her eye and grinned, glancing toward the ballroom. Megan nodded slightly, unable to keep herself from smiling, despite her father’s dire warnings. Megan hadn’t been paying attention to exactly what he was warning the assembly against, but she had picked up that it had something to do with complaining or disloyalty or something. Megan took a bite of perfectly seasoned roast beef and let her mind wander to the ballroom, where she would spend the better half of the evening.