Debra Benson
Apr 2, 2016 | Contemporary, 1st pages
Chapter 1
The Eggs & I in downtown Cypress was warm, cozy, and the smell of fresh ground coffee and the sweet smell of breakfast cooking, wrapped me in a blanket of treasured memories. When I invited my sister to meet me here for breakfast, it was to confess it all, but was I ready? We considered this place to be something of a lucky charm because the issues we discussed here always seemed to work out for the best.
I was nervous though; I had some disturbing news to share with my sister. I really needed her advice. I knew what she was probably going to say, but I needed to hear it out loud.
I gulped down the water the waitress brought, but it didn’t help much to settle the butterflies battling in my stomach. Maybe a cup of wine would help, but what with my still-thin finances, wine was out of the question. Besides, wine for breakfast? I don’t think so. I needed to be able to explain it all – get it out in the open. I needed to stop all the hiding. I prayed Julie wouldn’t be too angry, but I already knew she wouldn’t approve. I know I wouldn’t if our places were switched. I just hoped she would still be my loving sister.
Who was I kidding? I was such a bad person. Having an affair with my best friend’s husband was bad enough, but having an affair with the reverend of our church that was also married doubled my crime.
Someone came in and the chill autumn air raised goosebumps all down my arms and back. I guess I should have worn something heavier than my yellow windbreaker; there was supposed to be a few more hot days left of the summer, but I guess today wasn’t one of them. I tried to rub the shivers away, and when that didn’t work, I picked up the menu hoping to distract myself. The waitress came over. “Are you ready to order?”
Her rich southern drawl surprised me; it wasn’t common to the area. Absently, my finger pushed my glasses up my nose. Having something warm to drink would be perfect. I could do with a cup of coffee, and I couldn’t resist indulging myself just a bit. “I’ll take a cup of coffee with the hazelnut creamer.” I took a deep breath and pushed back in my seat then I went back to the menu.
As if all my distractions weren’t enough, my legs began to tremble. I tried to stop them, but it felt like they had a mind of their own. I knew it was nerves. Not so long ago, my life had pretty much fallen apart, and most recently it had taken a most unexpected turn. My stomach wanted to add its own tremors to my day.
Cali MacKay
Mar 31, 2016 | Contemporary, 1st pages
Chapter One
The knife was a blur in Emma’s hand as she chopped the onions for the night’s service, her prep cook having left her in the lurch again. She tried to be understanding of true emergencies, but getting too drunk the night before wasn’t a valid excuse for missing work the following morning— yet again. And of all the days to be short-staffed.
“You need to get going, Em. Leave it. I’ll finish that up.” Jake shouldered her out of the way and took over the prep she was working on.
“And make sure you take a shower before going to that meeting. Ryker will never agree to extend the lease if you smell like onions and a butcher’s.” She wiped her hands on a rag, her mind racing and her stomach in knots as her nerves got the best of her. Formal meetings of any sort always put her on edge, especially when there was so much at stake.
“I swear, I could kiss you. Thanks. I owe you, big time.” He shook his head with a sigh and a teasing smile, his brown eyes lighting up.
“Promises, promises.” With a wave, Emma grabbed her bag and rushed out the door, quickly checking the time on her phone as she fumbled with her keys.
If she hurried, she’d just make it. And there was no way she could be late. The fate of her restaurant depended on this meeting being a success.
MacKay, Cali (2014-05-05). Seduction and Surrender (The Billionaire's Temptation Series Book 1) (Kindle Locations 30-36). Daeron Press. Kindle Edition.
Patricia E Gitt
Mar 25, 2016 | 1st pages, Contemporary
“The jealous are troublesome to others, but a torment to themselves.” –William Penn
1
Having arrived at her office at seven o’clock, and before she’d cleared her wine-sodden brain with coffee, Katherine Cunningham was hit with the jarring sound of her phone. It had been Mr. Sweeney’s personal assistant conveying the CEO’s request to meet with her at eight o’clock that morning.
Her daily routine shot, Katherine sank into her chair, trying to absorb the shock. That one request did more to frighten her than being reamed out by her boss. Was her job was at stake? What ever happened, her future was yet to be determined.
During her years of working for the oppressive Sandra Charney, senior vice president, corporate communications, Katherine had managed to keep out of Charney’s way. By now she was accustomed to being isolated not only within her own department but from any contact with members of senior management. Her reward was to be left alone to handle her growing responsibilities. In all that time, she had never met the illusive Thomas Sweeney. Would this meeting change her future with the company, or give her boss a reason to fire her?
Thomas Sweeney had built the company from a local Midwest firm into a large corporation on the verge of becoming a public company. Known as the quality manufacturer of nutritionals and snack foods, Marathon produced popular health bars made from seaweed, grains and nuts, as well as nutritional supplements derived from a variety of herbs and food sources; some ingredients having been used by apothecaries in ancient China.
Waiting in the 40th floor reception area outside the inner sanctum of Marathon Nutritionals chief executive, Katherine sat on a stiff upholstered wing chair trying not to fidget. Her short blonde hair fell to just below her jaw, framing a peaches and cream complexion with a minimum of cosmetic enhancement. Fingering the collar of her silk blouse, she was the epitome of a young corporate executive.
“Ms. Cunningham, Mr. Sweeney will see you now,” said Mrs. Tunney, the CEO’s aide-de-camp and official gate keeper. A matronly woman of indeterminate age with a natural Irish charm, she reminded Katherine of a family retainer. Back straight, gray streaked hair combed in a neat off-the-face style and dressed in a suit lacking in feminine touches or frills of any kind.
Ilee Coleman
Feb 26, 2016 | 1st pages, Contemporary
Unlike the deformed, stunted trees that emerge from the contaminated soils of the big city, trees in suburban communities grow tall and strong. They are nourished by the maternal hand of nature and supremely protected by the inhabitants of the neighborhoods they oversee. One serves as a thrifty umbrella that covers the ungodly secrets that are cemented within the concrete crevices, whilst the latter is carefully planted, to repeatedly serve the few who find solace in her beauty and eat from her bare hands.
Israel has found this to be a truth early in life. He and his best childhood friend walk a tumultuous line between success and failure, fantasy and reality, prey and predation. Utilizing quick wits and visions of life in a brave new world, they maneuver through the metropolis, interacting with past and present allies, invisible bullies and the gatekeeper of an overzealous imagination. At odds with life as they know it versus life as it should be, they are trapped within a constant tug of war.
But life has a strange way of dealing with conflicts.
M. P. Tonnesen
Feb 26, 2016 | 1st pages, Contemporary
She never thought her life would end up like this. “End” was probably an overstatement, as she was only in her early thirties. But she definitely had never pictured herself in this situation at any point of her life; nor had her family and friends. She was in an unexpected place – in every sense: geographically, emotionally,
professionally, and even physically. She had always been one of those women whom everyone expected
to have success. She had been very ambitious throughout school, university, and her career up until now; focused, determined, and with few detours from her original master plan of life. And in many ways she had been successful. She had an impressive CV of professional accomplishments. She had traveled the world. She had a handsome husband and a healthy child.
Now her husband was no longer by her side, and she was stuck on an island in the fierce and unforgiving Irish Sea of all places. It was beautiful in its own rugged, down-to-earth way. The windblown, yellow broom covering the raw, granite headland; the white dots of sheep feasting on the rolling fields, ever-green from the perpetual dampness; the bright sun glistening on the crests of the sea. Chloe pressed her forehead against the cool, large window-pane, taking in her view and sighed. It was a far cry from the hustle and bustle, excitement and 24-hour availability of everything you needed that London offered – not only in the city but even in its suburbs where she had lived with her little family before their unexpected relocation.
It was not just a case of going rural, as many people did when they were fed up with the pollution and stress of the cosmopolis; a need she had never really had, having grown up in the suburbs of a big city herself. It was also moving to a tiny island in the North. The sense of total remoteness was overwhelming. Not only back when they had decided that the opportunity was too good and too big a chance for them to turn down; but even now, many months down the line, after having physically settled into their spacious townhouse.
She had insisted that they had to live in the main town, the capital so to speak, although it was unlike any other capital she had been to in the world.
As a minimum, she needed the feeling of being in a populated place and close to whatever amenities the island had to offer, even though this did not entail any of the big city facilities, temptations, or instantly gratifying retail therapies to which she had come to get used. Her husband had grown up in a small village, so to him it was not as appalling an idea to consider settling down – maybe even for good – on the island. There was no chance that she would stay for any longer than necessary. Especially not now…
TIM I GURUNG
Feb 25, 2016 | 1st pages, Contemporary, Featured
Chapter – One
My name is Jas Jabrul Jhasker Jhar Jabuza. Before you start tweaking your eyebrows, please allow me to explain: it is not the first nor will it be the last time. I solemnly agree it is a strange name, and I have never met another soul with such an embarrassingly long and awkward name in life. It is a very long story but let me make it brief.
“Jas” was the name given by my father: it means luck in our dialect and he always called me by that name.
“Jabrul” was the name I got from my mother; it literally means nothing but she invented the word and always called me by that name with pride and happiness as if she actually owned it.
“Jhasker” was the name I inherited from my grandfather, which also had no particular meaning, but he simply liked it, and always used that name to address me with sheer affection.
“Jhar” was the name of our village, and our family had a sacred tradition of carrying it with our name. As I hailed from the same family that was the actual founder of the village, I had to carry that name as well.
“Jabuja” is simply our family’s surname, and it had no other meaning.
Needless to say, my long name did create a plethora of confusion in our household, and pretty annoying situations during my childhood. Guests or outsiders in our home, who were new and unfamiliar with our awkward naming phenomena, got easily confused, not knowing which one to use, especially when I happened to be the only child at home during those particular moments. That confusion started to morph into pressing problems when I started school, and kids began calling me various names intentionally in order to tease me. Not only was I embarrassed, I was genuinely annoyed and upset.
In addition to the five names that I already had, children from the school as well as from my neighborhood used to call me names like JJ, JJJ, five Js, multi-Js, the big J, and so on as if it were some sort of name-calling competition. It was pretty imaginative in a weird way; nevertheless I hated them for the name-calling. I couldn’t imagine myself associating with any of them, and whenever I found myself in this situation, I wanted to run away.
But it was not possible to run away forever, my peculiar problem kept on following me, and it was gradually becoming a serious dilemma in my young and inexperienced life. It drastically upended my innocent years, deprived me of my otherwise unrestrained happiness, and I was compelled to spend my precious childhood in unnecessary worry and agitation. There were days when I desperately sought for excuses to avoid school.
More often than not I failed miserably, which aggravated the situation even more. I felt helpless, but my ordeal was not over and it was seriously affecting my wellbeing. If I were to survive the very first test of this cruel thing called life, sooner or later, I had to find a way out as a winner. Time was starting to tick faster, the pressure was on, and I was in a real hurry to win the first race of my young life. I had never been so serious and I was really determined.
Under the patina of sheer determination, I was genuinely scared too. Yet, I didn’t let my fear overshadow the importance of my struggle that I had to overcome one way or another, and that somehow lifted my spirits and doubled my encouragement. I was finally ready.
