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Available on Amazon HERE


 
  I offer a Halloween memory. . .
A Three-Legged Wonder
Various Halloween scenes flee flood the remembrance
of my childhood. There were scary years and others scream-laugh
funny. As an adult, I still gag smile at the antics of my friends
and family.
My mother is a clothing designer by trade. So Halloween consisted of home-made costumes. In my recollection, there was only
one year in which I wore a costume my mother didn’t entirely make for me.
Nothing against my in-house designer’s imagination—all her guises were works of
art—but forcing helping to create my own costume made it the best
Halloween ever.
My best friend, Kelley, and I were eight years old. Her mom
provided us with tempera paints and thick brushes, along with two paper grocery
sacks.
We decided to be a two-headed monster. This consisted of
painting our “heads” on the sacks and having my mother sew a shirt
and three-legged pants large enough to house two kids.
It took us almost a whole week of practice, walking
side by side with our inside legs tied together, to find our cadence beat. And
then…the big night. Halloween.
We dressed at my house and preened for pictures. Hobbled to
her house for more pictures. With plastic pumpkin buckets in hand, we set off.

(c)creative commons
 
And promptly fell down her front stairs, ripping the shirt
and tearing the pant seam. How the paper sacks stayed intact, I’ll never know.
I was crying, Kelley was screaming, her mom was laughing, and their damn dog
attacked my pumpkin bucket.
We made our rounds through the neighborhood that night, a
two headed, three-legged, limping monster.
I haven’t seen Kelley in a long time but keep in touch with
her mother. She and I have groaned laughed over my favorite Halloween
many times over the years.
 
Remedy Maker
Excerpt:
 
 

Confidence
settled within him after making a decision on the next step to fulfill his
ruler’s wishes. He leaned toward the radio, flipped the switch, and let the
music roll over him while he set about making coffee in the stovetop
percolator.
 
The
twenty-first century was by far his favorite time to live. Natural cure
innovations abounded, and the music jammed. Nodding in time to the deep bass
thump, Kid Rock rapped out his wish to be a cowboy. Rhy tapped his toe on the
wooden floor and swung his shoulders to the steady rhythm.
 
A little coffee, some
discussion and bargaining, and I’m good to go.
 
Patience took hesitant steps out of
the bedroom with bare feet. She cleared her throat. “Good morning.”
 
Gods.
 
Sleep
creased her face, and her hair lay mussed and wild about her shoulders. Heat
coiled low in his belly; his scrotum tightened inside his pants.
 
He
was in deep shit.
 
In
his waking mind, the plan seemed so easy. None of the sexy details were filled
in. Now, with her standing in front of him looking like she’d been tumbled hard
in the sack, all he could think of was . . . getting hard in the sack!
 
Fuck.
 
No! Not that word.
 
Glorious
brown hair, liberally streaked with auburn, floated in waves over her shoulders
and cascaded down her back. He watched her like a slow motion movie. She lifted
her hands and pushed the heap away from her face, her breasts jiggling with
maddening temptation.
 
“Hey
there.” He grabbed open the lower door of the cold box and hid behind it,
adjusting himself through his jeans. Guileless, her innocent eyes held no
condemnation for his Centaur breeding.
 
Patience
was born decades after the last arrow flew in hatred. Her people had committed
horrendous crimes, but he had murdered as well. He was the villain here, not
her. The proof stood right before his eyes, looking so damn beautiful—a felony
on two legs.
 
What are YOUR plans for Halloween?
You must answer the question in order to qualify for the prize.
Thank you for hopping along! Have fun everyone!!
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