Tag Archives: crime

Bill Hope, on #LisaBurtonRadio

Lisa Burton

Hey there, all you sleight of hand experts, pickpockets, and Artful Dodgers of every kind. You’ve landed on Lisa Burton Radio, the only show that brings you interviews with the characters you love. I’m your host, Lisa the robot girl, and my special guest today is Bill Hope.”Welcome to the show, Bill.”

“How do, Miss Lisa. Glad to be here.”

“My bio says you’ve lived a pretty colorful life. There is a certain romance to being a thief. What is your preferred method of operation?”

“I work the streets and any place where the moneyed gents gather – theater lobbies, shops, horsecars, crowds watching parades and arguments and fights. The easiest hits are country bumpkins in wide-brimmed hats that walk around real wide-eyed staring at the crowds and sandwichmen and traffic with their coat open wide showing a shirtfront with a peach of a spark so when a mob of shoppers or beggars or a RADICAL CURE TRUSSES crowds in around them I just glide up and filch the spark real quick and clear out before they even know it’s gone. Of course I make mistakes. Once when I tried to rob a yokel he pushed me up against a WINES LIQUORS CIGARS storefront and hollered for a cop and a bluecoat came and they hustled me into a Black Maria that’s a big long hearse of a wagon and I was brought up before a judge and sent to that gloomy old prison the Tombs. And there that bumpkin came to me and turned out to be no hick at all but Sheldon Minick in disguise the city’s most successful private snoop who calls himself The Eye That Never Sleeps cause he goes after criminals no matter how they try to escape and he promised to drop charges if I’d do a job for him. He wanted me to snatch a real fancy scarf pin that a sweet little grafter named Sugar Nell had lifted right off a dear departed in a coffin at a funeral and she was parading around on Broadway with it on her and his family hired Mr. Minick to get it back and I thought robbing the dear departed wasn’t right so I was game. I did the job and snatched it off of her real neat and he was true to his word and dropped charges and from then on he was a friend to me and wanted me to quit the crooked life. A real sport he was and still is.”

“What led you to this career path?”

“I never knowed my ma who died when I was born and my pa dumped me on an uncle who beat me often as not so I took off and lived on the streets and my pal Dan taught me the tricks of the trade so we could net some coin and get a place of our own and live snug and warm and sleep there and not on a bale of cotton on the docks or under a cart. Mr. Minick wants me to quit the crooked life and I do too but we don’t know any honest job for a guttersnipe like me with no learning only street smarts that pays like grafting does. Like I told him many a time, gotta eat, boss, gotta buy shoes.”

“I think I understand that, but what about those you steal from? Don’t they gotta eat, too?”

“Miss Lisa, I’m a good fellow and good fellows live by their brain not brawn and hate bullies and thugs and snitches and never rat on their pals. So I never rob ladies or the poor, only moneyed gents who strut their coin, cause I won’t put them in the poorhouse they can spare a little jack for me.”

“Aren’t you afraid it will all catch up to you one day?”

“I been in and out of prison four times. Once Mr. Minick got me out and once I escaped in a coffin and once a mysterious gent called the Old Gentleman sprung me out of Sing Sing where I was beaten by a bully of a guard and snooped on my a mean little snitch of a cellmate. And once to escape a stretch in prison I didn’t deserve a lawyer told me to fake crazy so I worked up some words I’d heard educated people use and told the court I had distinguishable blood and lots of juhnusaykwa in my veins and would inherit from my uncle the most raffinated Duke de Champagne and I convinced the judge I had delusions and ended up in a loony bin with real loonies.”

“Several arrests. So now you carry a black-mark on your record. That has to make it difficult to find honest work.”

“It sure is. Some Christian folks as wanted me to reform turned a cold shoulder when I asked about a job. But the Old Gent as sprung me from Sing Sing offered me a crazy way out of the crooked life. He got me to work for him in a scheme called the green goods game where we sold fake counterfeit money to folks as wanted to pass it off on their neighbors and the cops let us alone figuring we was crooks cheating crooks only we wasn’t breaking any laws just cheating would-be crooks who needed cash real fast like storekeepers in debt and farmers about to lose their farms and even small-town mayors and a judge and a couple of sheriffs from out West and a preacher as wanted money to build a new church for his flock. That job taught me how even respectable people can be tempted to do a bit of graft and it worked for a while and I was in the chips and even met the Old Gent’s daughter and fell for her something fierce but then he wanted me to do something no good fellow could do and I refused and from then on he hated my guts and vowed to get me and I went into hiding. And then just when I was scared for my life they accused me Bill Hope — a good fellow who hates bullies and violence and never hurt anyone except in self-defense – they accused me of murder!”

“That’s terrible!”

“Maybe the worst time in my life. But no matter how things go and no matter what they accuse me of or try to do to me, I always hope for better. Sometimes better comes and sometimes not, but you gotta hope. What else is there? My pal Dan even kids me about my last name but I didn’t pick that name it just happened to me but yes I always hope. Hope and hope and hope. Otherwise it’s death.”

“I’m sure we wish you luck here, Bill. Any closing remarks for our listeners today?”

“I hope my story will help the folks who hear it and especially folks in trouble. Always always hope. It will see you through.”

“You can learn all about Bill in the book, Bill Hope His Story, by Clifford Browder. I’ll post all the details on the web after I log off today.

“Don’t forget to tip your waitress, and by that I mean use those sharing buttons. I’ll be doing it, Clifford will be doing it, and I’d bet he’d do it for you, when your character appears on the next Lisa Burton Radio.”

***

New York City, 1870s: From his cell in the gloomy prison known as the Tombs, young Bill Hope spills out in a torrent of words the story of his career as a thief and other adventures. The second novel in the Metropolis series. Bill discusses his experiences as a pickpocket and shoplifter; his scorn for snitches and bullies; his brutal treatment at Sing Sing and escape from another prison in a coffin; his forays into brownstones and polite society; his brief career on the stage playing himself; his loyalty to a man who has befriended him but may be trying to kill him; and his sojourn among the “loonies” in a madhouse, from which he emerges to face betrayal and death threats, and possible involvement in a murder. In the course of his adventures he learns how slight the difference is between criminal and law-abiding, insane and sane, vice and virtue–a lesson that reinforces what he learned on the streets. Driving him throughout is a fierce desire for better, a yearning to leave the crooked life behind, and a persistent and undying hope.

Reviews:

“A real yarn of a story about a lovable pickpocket who gets into trouble and has a great adventure.  A must read.”  Five-star review by nicole w brown.

“This was a fun book.  The main character seemed like a cross between Huck Finn and a Charles Dickens character.  I would recommend this.”  Four-star Library Thing review by stephvin.

Purchase link: Amazon

Clifford Browder is a writer living in New York.  He has published two biographies, three historical novels, and an award-winning collection of posts from his blog, “No Place for Normal: New York.”  His poetry has appeared in numerous small reviews, both online and in print.  Mostly vegan, he has never owned a car, a television, or a cell phone.  He is fond of oystercatchers and slime molds, and never kills spiders.  Though ripe in years, he has learned the Charleston: geezers rock.

Contacts:

Facebook

Goodreads

Blog

Email

28 Comments

Filed under Lisa Burton Radio

Sins of the Fathers, on #LisaBurtonRadio

Lisa Burton

Don’t touch that dial! You’ve landed on Lisa Burton Radio. The only show that brings you interviews with the characters from the books you love. I’m your host, Lisa the robot girl, and my special guest today is the owner of a small pub in Montreal. “Welcome to the show Charlene Butler.”

“Hi, Lisa. Thank you for having me today, and please call me Charlie.”

“It’s okay to say the name of your pub. Might bring in a few people.”

“Great idea! I own Butler’s Pub on Drummond Street in Downtown Montreal. The nicest pub in the neighborhood.”

“Charlie, you’re here today because there is a strange string of events in your life. Tell us about that, please.”

“Strange is a good word. Worrisome, scary, terrifying would also be good words. It started innocently enough. I received an anonymous letter in the mail from someone named Vincent, saying he’d been watching me, and we should get together for a chat. I didn’t think much of it until I got another one, with the same handwriting, from someone named Amy, saying she had been watching me, and we should get together and compare lives.”

“That’s kind of off-putting. What did you do?”

“Frank insisted I hire a private investigator. Frank is my bartender, but he’s also my best buddy, and he gets a little protective at times. I usually don’t like being fussed over, but in this case, Frank was right. I had already gone to the police, and they weren’t interested in putting too much time into a couple of mysterious letters.”

“Did you? Hire the PI, I mean.”

“I did. Some guy named Simm. I wasn’t too keen at first. I’m very busy, and I didn’t have time for all his questions. And, I really didn’t appreciate him prying into my past and the lives of my family and friends, especially when he’s so secretive about his life. But, he’s grown on me.”

“Now that’s interesting. Sounds like you’re kind of interested in him beyond your current problem.”

“What? No, not at all. I mean I guess some women would find him attractive, if they like that tall, dark, laid-back, lanky look. Not that I noticed, but I just…maybe we could move on to another question.”

“And did Simm turn up any helpful evidence?”

“He did. Actually, a lot of what he turned up was stuff I already knew, but I didn’t think it was something he needed to know. As usual, he disagreed with me. Anyway, he found out about how I became the owner of the pub. You see, it used to belong to Jim O’Reilly, who was a close family friend and mentor, like a second father to me. He taught me everything I know about running a bar. He was a very kind and generous man, and I don’t like people thinking otherwise. His connection to the Irish Mafia was a mistake and he paid for it. I’m sure he didn’t realize what he had gotten himself into. Jim’s past has nothing to do with the threats I’ve been getting.”

“You mean, like the mysterious letters?”

“Yeah, it started out as letters, but then I got a package. That was gross. I flipped my lid when I opened it up and out came a bag filled with organs. I’m talking livers and hearts, that kind of thing. It was terrible. They turned out to be sheep organs, but I still get chills just thinking about it.”

“You mean like guts and stuff? Maybe it’s time to call the police in.”

“Lisa, we talked to the police when I got the letters, and also when I got the package, and again when my apartment door was smeared with fake blood, but they just spun their wheels.”

“What did you do?”

“Simm did his thing. He contacted people, and visited people. He even made a visit to a prison to talk to some Mafia guy. He finally got us set up for a meeting with Marty Sullivan, the head of the Montreal Irish Mafia. Well, I say us, but actually it was just supposed to be him. I convinced him I had to be there too. Maybe coerced would be a better word than convinced. To tell you the truth, I know which buttons to push to get my way with Simm. He never sees me coming.

Anyway, in the end, Simm wouldn’t have gotten anywhere with Marty if I hadn’t been there. We hit it off right from the start. Marty barely noticed Simm. The guy was a bit cryptic though. Told us we had to go to Dublin and find a guy named Aidan Connelly. We have no idea what that’s about. But, honestly, you’d think a criminal mastermind would be heartless, but he was very upset about Harley’s kidnapping.”

“Wait, who’s Harley?”

“Harley’s my baby. He’s the most adorable little pug. I’ve had him for six years. He goes everywhere with me, and has his own little bed at the pub. Everybody in the neighborhood knows him and loves him. He’s so irresistible.

“Anyway, someone kidnaped him. I’m sorry. I’m getting choked up, but I still can’t even think about it without getting upset. He was gone for days. We knew it was the person who was sending me the letters, and the bloody organs…God, when I get my hands on him…and I will someday…I’ll show him what I can do with organs.”

“Now that pisses me off. Animals are innocent, and should be left out of things.”

“We’re on the same page, Lisa. So now, we’re off to Dublin. Again, Simm wanted to go on his own, and again, he found out I have no intention of letting him go without me. One of these days he’ll learn to not even bother trying. Simm seems to be an exceptionally slow learner.”

“I hope you’re going to be careful about this. Whoever is behind all of it sounds dangerous to me.”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t concerned. But, I feel safe with Simm. He’s an ex-cop, you know. Even though I don’t like to feed his ego, I have confidence in him, and if things get dangerous, I’ll follow his lead.”

“That sounds smart, and in more ways than one. Charlie, I could talk about this all day, but we’re out of time. I wish you all the best, and I hope Harley is okay too. Any last comments for our listeners today?”

“I’d just like to thank everyone for the support they gave me when things were rough. And, if the mystery man is listening, I want you to know that we’ll find you, and you’ll be sorry you ever laid hands on my pup. For everyone else, drop by the pub someday and say hi. Thank you, Lisa, for being such a great host. I love your show!”

“You can learn more about Charlie, and Harley’s plight in the book, Sins of the Fathers, by A. J. McCarthy. I’ll post all the pertinents on the website after I go off the air.

“Don’t forget to use those sharing buttons today. I’m sure A. J. and Charlene would do it for you, when your character appears on the next Lisa Burton Radio.”

***

Charlene Butler, a.k.a. Charlie, is beautiful, independent, and a successful pub owner in downtown Montreal, but prefers not to discuss her past, or the main reason for her success. When she anonymously receives strange letters and the police don’t show an interest in the case, she is convinced by Frank, her best friend, to hire a private investigator to help her solve the mystery. However, PI Simm seems to have a few secrets of his own.

Charlie and Simm join forces when the harassment escalates from letters to explicit threats. Their investigation leads them from the safety of her home, through Montreal’s underworld, to organized crime in Dublin, Ireland. What they discover contradicts Charlie’s most fundamental beliefs in herself and ultimately makes her doubt her own character.

Pick up your copy of Sins of the Fathers

“A taut, masterly-written novel of suspense, adventure, and romance!” – David Lucero, author of Big Jim

“McCarthy has the thriller genre down to a science” – Steve Taintor, NetGalley reviewer

“Sins of the Fathers is an excellent who-done-it with great timing, personable characters and a tight story line. A. J. McCarthy brings us a novel that is difficult to put down..” – Bonnie Reed Frye, NetGalley reviewer

The author can be found living near Quebec City, Canada, and when she isn’t working as Vice-President of Finance for a manufacturing company, she will be writing, thinking about writing, or wishing she was writing. She lives with her husband of many, many years, and her Pug/Shih Tzu mix. Her two young adult daughters have flown the coop, but check in every once in a while just to let her know they’re still alive.

Website:  www.ajackmccarthy.com

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/ajackmccarthy/

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/ajackmccarthy

Instagram:  https://www.instagram.com/a.j._mccarthy/

Pinterest:  https://www.pinterest.ca/ajmccarthy0125

Amazon:   https://www.amazon.com/Sins-Fathers-J-McCarthy-ebook/dp/B0789R8YBG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1520458493&sr=8-1&keywords=sins+of+the+fathers+by+a.j.+mccarthy

Black Rose Writing:  http://www.blackrosewriting.com/mysterydetective/sinsofthefathers?rq=sins%20of%20the%20fathers

41 Comments

Filed under Lisa Burton Radio

The Nightforce Security series, on #LisaBurtonRadio

Lisa Burton

Don’t touch that dial. You’ve landed on Lisa Burton Radio, coming at you with 1.21 jigawatts of power all across the cosmos and beyond the veil. I’m your host, Lisa the robot girl, bringing you characters from the books you love.

Today we’re going to have a little chat with Danny Caruso, owner of Nightforce Security, a new-ish company in headquartered in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania whose employees have rather impressive skillsets.

“Welcome to the show, Danny.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Ma’am! Such formality. Call me Lisa.”

“Sorry. Old habits die hard. Thanks, Lisa. Uh, glad to be here.”

“Don’t sound so enthused. This is supposed to be fun.”

“I know. I’m just not much of a showboat. I do my best work out of the limelight.”

“Then why’d you agree to come on the show today?”

“Because my employees insist I need to do more publicity. We haven’t been taking on the kinds of jobs we expected. We’ve been… sidetracked.”

“Oh? Sounds juicy. Do tell us more.”

“We’re a security firm, right? We’re supposed to be protecting movie stars in town to shoot a film. Singers here for concerts. Businessmen. Politicians at the occasional rally. And don’t get me wrong, we have those clients. But lately, pfft. Might as well have re-upped.”

“Re-upped? Are you former military?”

“See? This is why I hate being in the hot seat. There’s just certain sh—can I swear on the radio?”

“I don’t mind. I can’t speak for the FCC censors, though.”

“There’s stuff I don’t like to talk about.”

“I would think a military background would make you ideally suited for operating a security firm.”

“It does. I just don’t like to discuss it.”

“Seen some bad sh—stuff overseas?”

“What part of ‘don’t like to discuss it’ confused you?”

“Sorry. It’s my job to pry. So, you were saying you’re taking on jobs you didn’t expect.”

“Yeah. Fewer famous people needing a sense of security and more people caught in the middle of life-and-death situations.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“Infuriating.”

“Do tell.”

“I can’t talk about my cases.”

“Okay. Well, let’s change topics then, shall we? I understand you’re off the market now.”

“Excuse me?”

“You are in a committed relationship, correct?”

“Oh, that. Um… you were asking about cases. Here’s one for you. Noah Crawford, my right-hand man, just stumbled into one hell of a—oh, sorry.”

“Hell’s a place. I think you’re okay.”

“Right. Anyway, Noah was licking his wounds after a one-night stand.”

“Don’t single men often prefer no-strings fun?”

“Noah is the consummate bachelor. Or he was. Until the one who got away. He didn’t even catch her name. Had a bug up his… butt about it for the better part of a week.”

“Then what?”

“Then it all hit the fan. He bumped into her, but before they talked about things, they found themselves hostages in the middle of a heist. Of sorts.”

“Of sorts?”

“Well, he hasn’t written his final report yet, so I don’t have all the details. Just another job-that-isn’t.”

“What do you mean, job-that-isn’t?”

“We keep falling into these crazy situations. We aren’t hired, but there we are. Doing favors for someone or being in the victim pool. We don’t get money for that. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind helping where I can and I’d never turn down someone in need.”

“Hero complex?”

“Something like that, I guess. But I have to pay the bills, too. And that’s why I’m here today—trying to drum up some paying customers. Don’t suppose you need a bodyguard?”

“Sorry. Robots can take care of themselves. But if I did, you’d be the first person I’d call.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. I—hold on a second. I see we have a caller. Hello, you’re on with Lisa and Danny.”

“Hey, boss. Mind if I ask why you’re talking about my love life on the radio?”

“Uh… hey, Noah. Didn’t realize you planned on catching the show.”

“We nagged your sorry ass to do it. Think we weren’t going to tune in when the show was on?”

“We? We, who?”

“Me, Mac, Ethan. Cap’s here. We’re at his bar. The whole joint’s listening.”

“Perfect.”

“Even Gianni, Vinnie, Nico, and Coz are here. They brought their women.”

“Wait a minute. Noah, are you talking about the Notaro sisters and the Brotherhood?”

“Sorry, Lisa. Rude of me not to say hello.”

“Hi. Now, back to my questions. Are you telling me you know the Notaros and the Medici Protectorate?”

“Yeah. Danny introduced us. He and the guys go way back.”

“Danny, you’ve been holding out on me.”

“How so?”

“I’ve had the pleasure of talking to a few of your friends before. I never did hear how their situation turned out.”

“That’s not my story to tell.”

“You like to hold your cards close to your vest, don’t you?”

“Speaking of cards, did I mention Noah’s exploits took place in a casino?”

“Hey! Stop talking about me. You’ve got your own story to tell.”

“Lisa, where’s the disconnect button?”

“Oh, Danny. You think I’m going to cut off this conversation? It’s way too juicy.”

“We’re all hanging out at Cap’s bar, if you want to join us, Lisa. One Ugly Mug.”

“Sounds like an entertaining evening, but I believe Craig has plans for me after this.”

“Noah, don’t you have something productive to do right now?”

“Nope.”

“Do you like your job?”

“Yeah.”

“Then find something to do.”

“I’m off the clock, boss. Nothing but time on my hands. I can talk all night.”

“So, Lisa, I was telling you about Noah crashing and burning with this girl he met.”

“Okay, boss. Hanging up now. Lisa, the invitation stands. Anytime you want to hang out with us, just drop by.”

“Thanks, Noah.”

“Hang up, Crawford.”

“Geez, Dan. I’m going. We’re all still listening, though.”

“Noah!”

“All right. Bye.”

“Dickhead. Oh, shit. Damn it! Sorry, Lisa.”

“No worries. I know how you military guys are.”

“Ex-military.”

“Old habits die hard, right?”

“Exactly.”

“If the censors have a problem with it, they’ll bleep it out.”

“I’ve said enough, anyway. I think I’ll take off. I’ve got some employees who need a stern talking to.”

“He’s a handful, isn’t he?”

“They all are, Lisa. They all are.”

“Must make things at work… interesting.”

“Work is hard. Often dangerous. But the guys make it fun. I wouldn’t want them any other way.”

“I’m guessing you’re headed to One Ugly Mug now. Please give my best to the Notaros and the Brotherhood.”

“Will do.”

“And listeners, if you’re in the need for the services of a first-rate security firm, might I suggest Nightforce Security? You can’t feel safer than when you’re in the care of a team of former special ops officers.”

“I didn’t say anything about special forces.”

“Am I wrong?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Thanks for dropping by, Danny.”

“Thank you, Lisa.”

“All right, folks. Thanks for checking out the show. Please use those ‘like’ and ‘share’ buttons down below. The guys at Nightforce Security could use the support, and I know Staci will happily return the favor if I have you on the air.”

* * *

Staci Troilo’s Nightforce Security Series is a spinoff of her Medici Protectorate Series. The security firm, headquartered in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, makes use of the talents and specialties of the people it employs—people with elite military and law enforcement backgrounds.

Visit old Brotherhood friends and meet the new crew destined to make your heart stop and your fingers flip the page for more.

Password is the novel that starts the series. Danny Caruso is busy expanding his security firm when an old friend approaches him with a job. Next thing he knows, he’s protecting the world’s most private and stubborn woman from an unidentified threat. Secrets, lies, and subterfuge slow him down, and if he can’t solve the mystery, they’ll cost him everything. Universal Purchase Link

Second in the series is the novella Gamble, which is available now. Noah Crawford can’t get a one-night stand out of his head. He can’t even track her down, because she didn’t give him her name. While trying to forget her, he goes to a casino with friends and runs into her. Before he can try to pick up where things left off, armed men take them hostage. The stakes are high, and they’re cut off from help. Noah needs to take them down or he could lose everything. Universal Purchase Link

Staci Troilo writes because she has hundreds of stories in her head. She publishes because people told her she should share them. She’s a multi-genre author whose love for writing is only surpassed by her love for family and friends, and that relationship-centric focus is featured in her work.

Web | Newsletter | Twitter | Facebook | Other Social Media Links

98 Comments

Filed under Lisa Burton Radio

Does this Macabre Macaroni still smell okay?

Lisa BurtonHi Gang, Lisa Burton here with the last of Macabre Macaroni for 2017. So far, we’ve raged through the streets as a monster while exploring some of the broken things about various systems. We’ve looked behind the curtain at a hospital to poke a stick in the idea of accountants running our medical professions. We even pulled up a lawn chair for the end of the world.

I’ll, sadly, be retiring my witch’s hat for now, but not until I go trick or treating. I may get to wear it a bit during the editing of Craig’s novella, The Hat.

Today, we’re just going to enjoy a bit of nature in a story Craig calls Little Brown Bat.

Little Brown Bat

Little Brown Bat crawled out of a crack along the cliff face. The crack, no wider than a bottle cap, had housed bats for over a hundred years.

He squinted at the setting sun, but decided to leave the roost early. Soon the nighttime sky would be full of his brethren, but Little Brown Bat knew something they didn’t.

They would all head for the college campus nearby and hope to find the night insects fluttering around the lights surrounding the quad.

Little Brown Bat was headed for Randall’s Marsh. Situated on an abandoned farm, the waters had not been dredged for swimming or poisoned for mosquito control.

Sometimes, if he was early enough, he could catch the last of the day-flying insects. Fat blowflies, and yellowjacket wasps full of meat, made for a satisfying snack. It takes a lot of food to keep Little Brown Bat in the air.

Once the sun set, the marsh itself always had a hatch of water borne insects. Sometimes they were mayflies, sometimes caddis, and if he was lucky a giant stonefly or two.

He ducked into the forest along the way, the shade protected his sensitive eyes from the setting sun. He caught a lazy moth in his tail and flipped it into his mouth on the way to the marsh. A tasty snack this early at night.

He veered onto the muddy two track road, and stayed about three feet off the ground. A fat blowfly gave him hope that he arrived early enough.

Wild yellow iris bloomed along the edge of the first pond, and spread across the boggy area. Later tonight the scent might attract one of the gigantic sphinx moths, nearly as large as he was. He moved on to the first small grassy mound, but it produced nothing more than a pair of lawn moths.

By the time he reached the earthen mounds, he’d scored a juicy yellowjacket and two more flies. The sixth mound remained bare earth. It takes time for the grass to grow over the fresh dirt. It appeared a coyote or some other creature dug deep here. Little Brown Bat caught flies by the dozens.

He made two more circles, but he’d caught all the day insects this evening this evening would offer. On his final turn he spotted a fresh hole.

Barely three feet deep, he knew it wouldn’t be long before it was filled back in. That’s when the day insects came. Sometimes they swarmed by the hundreds over the fresh mounds. He would be able to scoop up flies two and even three at once with his tail.

His friends could fight over the night insects at the quad, and scare the coeds to death. This was the place for Little Brown Bat. The holes always became a fresh mound in three days.

His radar detected the first of the caddis flies coming off the water’s surface. The day flyers were finished, but Little Brown Bat knew the ponds always held an abundance of night hatching insects. They’d been much more abundant this year for some reason. He veered out over the surface of the water.

The swollen faces of three coeds watched him from below the water’s surface. They’d been here for over a month, and the night insects seemed to hatch with greater frequency. They no longer screamed at the site of a tiny bat.

His radar detected a fluttering stonefly, and he veered left. He nearly brushed the exposed rib cage of another coed along the shore as he scooped with his tail, but he caught the huge insect.

Yes, Randall’s Marsh was a lonely place, but it was perfect for Little Brown Bat.

***

If you enjoyed Macabre Macaroni 2017, you can always keep reading. Stories from previous years are available in the sidebar under the category Short Stories and Vignettes. If you’re really into it, and we hope you are, you can pick up some of Craig’s short story collections. Go to his Amazon Author page and look for either of the Experimental Notebooks, or both of them. You can also find some of Craig’s work in the anthologies Quantum Wanderlust and Macabre Sanctuary.

52 Comments

Filed under Short Stories & Vignettes

Behind the scenes look at inspiration

Hey everyone, I’m over at Sue Coletta’s blog today discussing the inspiration behind one of my short stories. This post was by request, and it was a blast to prepare. I get to talk about my Dad, some of how I grew up, and even included a cool music video. I’d really appreciate it if you’d check it out. Leave us a comment while you’re there. I’ll surf back through and try to keep up.

While you’re there, think about following Sue’s blog. I copied it and pasted it into my Reader, but you can follow by email too. She is a wealth of information for crime writers, and all of us can benefit from the research she brings to the table. Here’s the link.

practical-geology

20 Comments

Filed under Writing

Let’s all stay safe out there

Everyone’s enamored with social media these days. We talk about ourselves all the time. Even WordPress is a place for social interaction. With the Christmas season, I feel even more compelled to post this reminder, when we’ll all be posting more frequently.

Christmas season is a time of parties, shopping, travel, vacations, possibly all at once. Remember whatever you post is out there for everyone to see. This includes people who are predatory in nature. Let’s look at some examples.

“Awesome snow in Aspen. Two weeks of fun ahead.” What you just told someone is that you are not at home for fourteen days. This applies to long shopping days too. “Getting it all done in one day. Two malls and eight hours to go. Wish me luck.” This means, “Feel free to load up my plasma TV, oh and there’s beer in the fridge. Help yourself.”

We have to manage a multitude of passwords. The most common password out there is the name of a pet. This is encouragement enough to choose a different password, but think of this. “Look Twitter, isn’t Petunia adorable in her little hat!”

Have you ever signed up for a service, and they let you choose a security question in case you forget your password? Common ones are the name of your pet, what high school did you attend, or what is your mother’s maiden name?

Post this on Facebook: “Here’s a picture of me and my cousin Vinnie Pallacio at our ten year reunion in Pahrumph, Nevada. Doesn’t Vinnie look good with his hair transplants?” If Paraumph only has one high school, someone might be able to answer your security question. If Vinnie is your first cousin, your mother’s maiden name might be easy to guess.

How many people post birthday wishes on social media? If someone knows your date of birth and mother’s maiden name, they might be able to raise all kinds of hell with your credit. Okay, they might have to guess at the year, but maybe a different post told them about your ten year reunion.

Post number one might say, “I’m hiding all the Christmas presents in my car this year. That way the kids can’t snoop without a key.” Then a different post says, “I had to use the parking tower this morning. Three blocks in the snow to get to my office.” Bring the crowbar, I know where there’s a bunch of presents just waiting for us.

Kids read your posts too. “Look at the cool rollerblades I bought my nephew.” This might be less damaging, but it can still ruin a surprise.

Even the police will read social media. “I’m so wasted, and I don’t have a designated driver.” Um, never mind. Go ahead and post that one.

My point is that sometimes we reveal too much. We always assume our friends are reading about our high jinks. (Don’t worry, they still are.) We may not realize who else is reading this stuff.

It isn’t too hard to modify our postings if we think about it. “Had the best time in Aspen, but glad to be home.” Maybe we can say, “My dog is adorable, but she doesn’t like her little hat.”

I’m not trying to be a downer, but I want everyone to stay safe and have a great holiday season. I’m not perfect, and have made these mistakes myself. I was never robbed, but I’m going to be more careful from now on too.

Please feel free to repost this and share it with your loved ones and friends.

2 Comments

Filed under Blogging, Uncategorized