“Things Every Southern Woman Should Know How to Make”

Image
Alice clicked on the headline, mildly curious about what yet another stranger thought should be in her kitchen repertoire. Pictures of China plates mounded with crispy fried chicken, greens, cobbler, and a pile of biscuits a mile high flooded the screen, all set off with a pitcher of sweet tea beaded with condensation. The table was set; an apron draped off to the side next to a box labeled “Gramma’s Recipes” in fine calligraphy. She closed the browser and put away her tablet. She was born a Georgia peach, but she couldn’t make a cobbler to save her life. Did that mean she wasn’t southern? Or maybe just not “Southern.” For Alice, there was no recipe box full of family traditions. Her younger years were filled with rental homes in different states and her father’s voice coaxing her toward a text book rather than a cookbook. Metalworking and fabrication held more interest than learning to flambé or sauté. Did it make her less of a woman that her cooking skills consisted of fresh salads...
Post a Comment

THE DARK CARNIVAL WELCOMES YOU

 
 
 
 
 
Step right up, folks! The show is soon to begin. But while you wait in line, enjoy your fritters and this sample of the terror to come...
 

 
 
 
And over here--yes, this way--you can see the entrance to the Tunnel of Love. Don't be shy, folks! Cozy up to your loved one and take a peek!
 
 
And the Tunnel of Love loomed ahead of us.
I didn’t think they even made those things anymore. I hadn’t seen one at one of these fairs—well, my whole life. It was something you’d only see in a fifties movie, or some old black and white photo. And like anything classy, none of the loudmouth teenagers that frequented the fair were anywhere near it. The shadows around the Tunnel of Love were empty.
I wrapped my arms around her and headed towards the dark entryway.
The tunnel seemed even more like it was dropped out of another time as we got closer to it. Two giant cutout swans with chipping white paint formed a heart with their great necks, creating a doorway into the darkness where love was supposed to flourish. If not for the dark that invited one like me in, I would have seen the marred paint and carved in hearts with random initials on the pristine white of their feathers to be a bad sign, of something lost and something ruined.
I should have looked deeper.
-          Love Consumes Us by Julie Hutchings
 
Don't shove! Have patience, friends. The DARK CARNIVAL will be coming to you soon!
 
THE DARK CARNIVAL is brought to you by PEN and MUSE.
Add to Goodreads

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Writer's Voice Contest Entry

Image
Okay, now that I can breathe, yay! There's an awesome contest going on, and I got in by the skin of my teeth! Here's the details: “The Writer’s Voice” is a multi-blog, multi-agent contest hosted by Cupid of Cupid’s Literary Connection, Brenda Drake of Brenda Drake Writes , Monica B.W. of Love YA , and Krista Van Dolzer of Mother. Write. (Repeat.) . We’re basing it on NBC’s singing reality show The Voice, so the four of us will serve as coaches and select projects for our teams based on their queries and first pages. And here's my entry! INSATIABLE YA Contemporary Fantasy 68,000 words Query: Every night when the houselights go down, seventeen-year-old kinetic Charlie Brimm secretly feasts on the brilliant auras of the human crowd around him. Their music-heightened, upbeat energies replenish Charlie’s own rapidly depleted energy, keeping him alive and healthy—if not completely satisfied. Then Charlie meets bard-faery and rock singer, Len. On...
Read more

The Writer's Voice 2013: LEAD ME BACK HOME

Image
Woot! I won the lottery! What lottery? The one that let me into the awesome Writer’s Voice contest, hosted by Brenda Drake , Cupid , Monica B.W. , and Krista Van Dolzer . (For all the details about this contest, click here .) Thanks, beautiful hosts, for letting us stick our necks out! Query LEAD ME BACK HOME is a YA supernatural, complete at 81,000 words. Sixteen-year-old Trisha Myles thought her sister loved her. But after her sister commits suicide, it turns out she wished Trisha never existed. Confused and guilt-ridden, Trisha takes her sister’s suicide note to heart and abandons her friends and old life to become a social ghost. Not existing is sort of peaceful—until a vicious bully targets her. She’s saved by Jesse Reagan; the one guy in Hoghfield, Alabama, who outranks her as an outcast. Trisha’s desire to live blossoms, but friendship with Jesse is more than she bargained for. When she sees the slashes on hi...
Read more

Ghosts...and the Girls Who Love Them Bloghop and Giveaway

Image
Here's my entry into this party. If you like what you read, let me know in the comments, and if you really like it, leave the word VOTE in the comments! You can vote between now and Oct. 1st. Enjoy! Binary Socks dangled from the slowly rotating blades of the ceiling fan. On any other occasion, Carrie would have laughed. Not this time.She had witnessed the hurricane-like destruction Daniel had wreaked, and it was a testament to his self-control that she wasn’t hurt. He stood in the only clear spot on the floor, what had been the eye of the storm. All around him,the room was littered with debris. Glittering among the boxers and tees, change from his dresser top and splinters of mirror. His college diploma he’d gotten last week. Things he would never need. Carrie repeated the words that had brought out his rage. “Daniel, you have to move on.” “I promised I wouldn’t leave you. I keep my promises.” His form solidified as anger coursed through him. When it faded, he did t...
Read more