• #amwriting,  The Not-So Dead,  Writing

    The Not-So Dead: Essie’s Story

    ~~Excerpt~~ “Okay.” Essie turned on her heel, her ebony dreadlocks whipping behind her, and she made her way to the farmhouse exit. It was always the same thing with him. All I am is some stupid human servant to him, she thought. I mean, that has to be it. That’s the only reason he decided to take me in. She turned the corner and bumped into Tristan. It was almost a common daily occurrence yet this time, seeing him shirtless improved her mood slightly. Her eyes moved from the healed bullet wound on his chest then to his face and his eyes seemed to glow from underneath the brim of…

  • #amwriting,  The Not-So Dead,  Writing

    The Not-So Dead: Tristan’s Story

    ~~Excerpt~~ Tristan grunted as he climbed off his horse. “You look a little boozy, Tristan,” Lonnie said. “You sure you still ain’t hurt or anything?” He wrapped the reins around a posting hitch. “I’m all right.” He watched as the rest of the boys, except for Reid, made their way toward one of the many saloons in Buck Creek City, New Mexico. “You don’t look well,” Reid said. “You sure you’re all right?” Tristan nodded. “You should join the boys. I’ll be there in a bit.” He watched as Reid caught up with Lonnie, Ike, and Edwin before they headed inside. He leaned his head back to catch his bearings.…

  • #amwriting,  The Not-So Dead,  Writing

    The Not-So Dead: Dusk’s Story

    ~~Excerpt~~ Dusk didn’t understand why his old friend wanted to meet in the bar next to the Pioneer Hotel around seven at night. That part of the city was a hellhole, filled with drunkards, prostitutes and their pimps, and the worst humans of all: gangsters. But it was the kind of environment Niamh thrived in. When Dusk received his written letter months ago, he had just left Oklahoma, bound for any town in the deep south, preferably rural. He drove the stolen car like a bat out of hell. He had been stealing and leaving cars behind for a week, trying to put as much distance between himself and the…

  • #amwriting,  The Not-So Dead,  Writing

    The Not-So Dead: Salome’s Story

    ~~Excerpt~~ Salome ran her fingers over the blanket on the guest bed. Whirls of patterns stood out, etched upon the fabric like her thoughts of late. Despite the streams of light that fell across her face from the brightness of the day, her thoughts were decidedly less than sunny. Her preparations for an upcoming guest had done little to shake her from the dull stupor that had plagued her as she settled into the life of a married woman. Errant strands of black hair fell in front of her eyes and she absently pushed them back as she tried to recall where her husband, Percy, had said the fabric beneath…

  • #amwriting,  The Not-So Dead,  Writing

    The Not-So Dead: Maddy’s story

    ~~Excerpt~~ The two-story house that would be their new home was shockingly pedestrian with its plain white siding and its wrap-around porch, elevated off the uneven ground on rickety stilts. Maddy wouldn’t have chosen the place in a million years. She wasn’t at all excited to find herself so near to the west coast and yet so far from any real urban action. Portland wasn’t too far, but she seriously doubted she’d get the chance to visit and check it out. She jumped out of the van and joined Essie. “You couldn’t have found us something better?” Maddy asked. Essie walked toward the home. “I only had two days, Maddy,…

  • The Not-So Dead

    The Not-So Dead: Faye’s Story

    ~~Excerpt~~ With the expectation of Thanksgiving break moments away, Faye glanced up at the clock, hoping her Math teacher wouldn’t notice her impatience. The bell rang and a bustle of excitement followed. Students hurriedly stuffed their bags and jumped from their seats. Some chatted about their plans for the holidays but not Faye. She avoided making eye contact and ducked her way out of the classroom, scurrying towards her locker. “Faye, could you stay back for a moment?” She paused in mid step at her teacher’s request as the other students filed by and rushed through the door. Now alone, she turned around slowly. Mr. Patterson leaned against his desk…