I believe in whacking a reader upside the head, toss them screaming into the book, and just when they think they are starting to figure things out toss a curveball. they say that you don't have to be mad to be a writer, but it sure helps.
A Time, Long Ago
A Time, Long Ago In the cold of the night, I remember… Cold fingers of frost etch their way across the windows scratching at ghosts of memories gone by as I sit by the fire. Birch wood crackles.
Chapter Two Barely an hour after dealing with Jake, Samuel buzzed Carol, this time hopefully in response to her instructions to alert her to a particular wedding party’s arrival and not because of another naked emergency at the front desk. She strode out of her office, her eyes sweeping across the newly redecorated lobby in admiration. The Fairmont Victoria was definitely five-star, all the way from the deep green Berber carpet on its lobby floor up to the multi-tiered chandelier and its quarter of a million crystals in the middle of the grey, gold and marine blue ceiling. Amazing what sixty million bucks can do.
The Joining: The Ainsworth Chronicles Book One
The Joining The Ainsworth Chronicles Book One By Frank Talaber Digital ISBNs EPUB: 978-1-7770928-8-7 Print ISBN: 978-1-7770928-7-0
A Lion Prowls Tonight
A Lion Prowls Tonight One enters the lion’s den with great trepidation. Even confined behind bars, in manacles, this remorseless killing machine was a sight to behold. Restless, he padded back and forth as I entered his territory, his space, and worst of all, his rules.
When Ghosts Collide
Was he really murdered by a ghost? Did I just stroll through time on Shelbourne Street? Who is the enigmatic psychic lady with the crystal skull?
Cinnamon Hearts by the Vedder
Cinnamon Hearts by the Vedder I sat with granddad on the edge of the Vedder River in Chilliwack, our fishing rods dangled in water moving by with a slow measured pace on a hot summer day. We hadn’t a bite on our lines yet, but one of the first things I learned about fishing from Gramps was that it didn’t matter if you never caught anything. "That wasn't the point," he’d say.
I’ll Always Hate Zucchini
I’ll Always Hate Zucchini “Drop the zucchini and run,” said my mother, before we lost her on that first night of our holidays in Mexico, “it’s the only thing I can do.” I was ten at the time and had poked my head around the corner, thinking everyone else was asleep as the cursed vegetable rolled on the ground.
Santa’s Wizardly Christmas
Santa’s Wizardly Christmas I came from salt water and will return there one day, dreaming of past lives as the oceans move in their mysterious ways. Other lives, other worlds away.