In Google searching my own book I found this wonderful review by Lisa Fox. Although I’m two years behind in posting it, it bears repeating IMHO.
An audio book is currently in the works for those who’d rather listen than read. I’m very excited about this project as it is being narrated by the author. 😉
LAST DANCE WITH ANNIE is available from the publishing house, owned and operated by Lia Wu. Click her picture to check out the site as this small publishing company is growing and on the rise. 😀 And of course, my book is available.
The book is also available at Amazon. Click picture below for Link.
And of course, click the link below to read Lisa’s review!
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
Setting sun is shining dramatically through clouds silhouetting houses and trees. A bit of light is reflecting off of two cars in the foreground beside the house to the right. If you look closely, you can make out a garage door.
This week marks my 14 year anniversary as Friday Fictioneers Facilitator. A handfull of you were here before I came aboard. Thank you for sticking with me. 😀 Shalom, Rochelle.
CLICK FROG TO JOINTHE FUN
Genre: Historical Fiction Word Count:100
BEST SEAT IN THE HOUSE
“Whatcha inventing now, Pop?”
Young Dick watched his father nail a bedsheet between two trees in front of his automobile on which he’d propped a Kodak movie projector.
“I’m building an outdoor theater for Grandma.”
The boy tilted his head. “Because she hates sitting in seats in the theater because she’s so y’know…mm…big?”
Pop chuckled. “She’ll be more comfortable watching movies from ol’ Suzabelle here.”
“May I sit in the car with her?”
“Why the whole family can pile in.”
Not long afterward Pop, Richard Hollingshead, found investors and on June 6, 1933, opened the first 400-acre drive-in movie theater.
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
This week’s prompt takes us into a narrow kitchen. on the right we see cabinets and a stove. There’s a refrigerator at the end. On the hardwood floor there’s an oval rug. To the left it looks to be a long bookcase filled with books. At the very end, in the middle there’s a wall with decorations and a door with a lock.
Just a reminder: This is a community of writers. Comment on the stories of others as you would like them to comment on yours.
CLICK FROG TO ADD YOUR STORY
Genre: Fiction Word Count: 100
MOUNT EVEREST SPECIAL
“How’s the novel coming?” Louise peered over Thelma’s shoulder.
“Not so great.” Thelma’s empty stomach rumbled. She stood and stretched to ease the kink in her neck. “I need sustenance.”
“How about a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”
“Nah. The only excuse for jelly we have is your aunt’s poisonberry jam.”
“Hey, that’s not a very nice thing to call it.”
“Okay. Kerosene preserves then.” Thelma sliced an onion. Breathing in the pungent aroma she proclaimed, “Now that’s what goes on a peanut butter sandwich.”
“Ugh!” Louise wrinkled her nose. “You can’t possibly be serious.”
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
This week’s prompt has us walking along a path under a bridge. To the right there is a narrow stream. The stream is flanked by grassy banks. On the pillars of the bridge you see splotches of mud and muddy handprints.
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Genre: Anecdote? Word Count: 100
MUDSLIDE
“Back in Abraham Lincoln’s day political candidates fought dirty,” said my fifth-grade teacher.
Suzie raised her hand. “Did they brawl in the mud like wrestlers?”
“Not exactly. What I mean is that instead of proclaiming their own good intentions, politicians spent their time ripping into their opponents.”
“Yeah,” said Billy. “They’d make speeches about the other guy’s nasty deeds to make themselves look good. Right, Mrs. Gerard?”
“Precisely. Fortunately, we’ve moved beyond those times as a civilized nation.”
Today, some sixty years later, head pounding, I switch off a mudslinging, political advertisement on television and sigh. “What happened to ‘civil-ization’?”
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
This week’s photo features a castle nestled in green rolling hills. There’s a bush of red flowers in the foreground.
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Genre: Historical Fiction Word Count: 100
A TWIST OF FATE
“Please help us abort,” begged the desperate father.
Irene refused. “If the baby dies, Hitler wins. He’s murdered enough Jewish children already”
The young Polish housekeeper had harbored twelve fugitives in the cellar of Major Rügemer’s grand home for two years.
One day he came home early and met his uninvited guests.
Despite his anger and fear, he agreed to keep Irene’s secret in exchange for certain favors.
When Rügemer’s family rejected him after the war for his part in saving Jews, the baby’s parents took him in. Little Roman Haller knew the former Wehrmacht officer only as Zaydeh—grandpa.
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
A swimming pool greets us in the foreground, surrounded by a fence. There are a few people in the water, standing in the shallow end. At the end of the pool there are deck chairs. There are buildings and trees in the background. Dive in anywhere with your take on this prompt. 😉
CLICK the frog to dive in.
Genre: Just the facts Word Count: 100
ONE OF THOSE DAYS THAT SHOULD BE DROWNED AT BIRTH
Every year, the American Cancer Society challenges lap swimmers to raise money for the cause by swimming five miles in a month. Each of us receives a medal for the first $25 collected.
Tuesday, after my swim, I took the usual selfie for my Facebook page. As I gathered my swim gear, my iPhone slipped from my grasp into the deep end. Its screen never dimmed.
The lifeguard rushed to my aid. “Would you like me to get that for you.”
“No, but I can’t find my goggles,” I replied in a panic.
“Ma’am, they’re on top of your head.”
Epilogue: At this posting, Tuesday is two weeks in the past. I’m happy to report that my iPhone dried out and continues to work well. No doubt the young lifeguard had something to tell his friends and family about the dingy old lady at the pool. At least I hope he got some mileage out of it 😉 I certainly have. I am my own anecdote. 😀 Shalom.
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
The photo this week is a sign post with four colorful arrows pointing in different directions. From the top down: the arrow points to the left and says. “This way.” The next points right and says, “That way.” The third arrow points right and says, “Go back” and the bottom points left and says, “Tea Party.” Have fun with it!
Genre: Anecdote Word count:100
THE PEACE, HOPE, AND LOVE TOUR
2020 began with Alzheimer’s robbing us of what was left of my husband’s mother after ten years. In February, our football team made it to the Super Bowl for the first time in fifty years—and won!
In March the pandemic turned the world on its ear and shut down life as we knew it.
What would we have done without Facebook, Zoom, or our friend Bradley who gave an online concert every Sunday night? The screen was always bass-ackwards, but his sweet songs kept a lucky group of us connected and somewhat sane.
Thanks for the music, buddy!
I’m pretty sure this was Bradley’s first venture forth after COVID. He really was a light in the darkness during those months of lock down.
For more about this wonderful friend and singer CLICK
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If you’re on Facebook, please click the link to check out this page and think about donating to American Cancer Society. I’ve joined the swim 5 mile challenge to raise money for the cause. https://www.facebook.com/donate/1113614497852702/ Thank you.
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
This week we’re looking at the front of a two story building with a classic facade. The front door is covered by a colonial style roof and pillars. Behind it to the right is a red brick building. The windows are multi-paned rectangular and arched at the tops. The yard in front is green.
Click the frog to join the fun.
Genre: Historical Fiction Word Count: 100
AUGUST 18, 1790
Jacob squirmed on the wooden seat between Papa and Grandpapa Aaron. “Why are we in synagogue today? It’s not Shabbat.”
Grandpapa patted Jacob’s knee. “I came to this colony of Rhode Island to escape oppression in Brazil when I was your age.” He pointed to the man sitting in the seat of honor. “This day you’ll remember for the rest of your life.”
Years later, Jacob told his own son, “I will never forget the day President Washington spoke these words in this very place, ‘The government of the United States gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution, no assistance.’”
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
The photo this week was snapped at a flea market. The shelf unit is in front of a window. The lower shelves are fully of colorful bottles. On the second shelf up there is a doll on the left and a glass angel on the right. From there on up the shelves are loaded with all manner of doll heads.
CLICK frog to join.
Genre: Fiction Word Count:100
AN EYE FOR AN EYE
Sifting through shards of her grandmother’s treasured porcelain vase, Carla fumed.
Five-year-old Angela hung her head. “Sorry, Mommy.”
“What were you thinking? You know better than to throw a basketball in the house.”
In a fit of anger, Carla ran to her daughter’s room and ripped the head and stuffings from Big Bird. Yellow fuzz drifted to the floor like snowflakes.
***
Years later Angela recounted the incident to her own children with, “Let this be a lesson to you, kiddies.”
Her son gasped. “You wouldn’t do it to us, would you, Mommy?”
“Break one of my things and find out.”
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Ask your local library to carry LAST DANCE WITH ANNIE. (Thanks, Lisa 😉 ) Audio book out soon!
The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.
PHOTO PROMPT c, Dale Rogerson
This is no basket ball in the photo this week. It’s a well-rounded hornets nest built against the side of a building. At the bottom of the nest you can see a few of the little buzzing, stinging creatures. Run!
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Genre: Historical Fiction Word Count: 100
THE MONSTERS ARE DUE ON MAPLE STREET
Stubbing out his third cigarette, the young playwright pored over his script.
“Wouldn’t want to upset the censors,” he muttered under his breath. He set his hands on his typewriter. “That’s it! A street in the suburbs is cut off from the rest of neighborhood. The residents convince themselves that one of their neighbors is an alien from outer space.
“In the end, extra-terrestrials orchestrated the isolation, then stood back and watched gullible humans turn on each other.”
Rod Serling smiled as he put the finishing touches on his stingingly profound Twilight Zone episode. Social commentary cloaked in science fiction.
