Month: January 2019

fishy fishy fishy fishy fish

Oh fishy, fishy, fishy, fish, poor little fish. Must have flopped up into my yard during one of the last storms we had. Well, daggone it, he’s mine now-been there 3 and a half months. I guess his family doesn’t give a flying fig or they would have picked him up by now. Called around but nobody seems to want him or even know what I’m talking about. Think I’ll offer a few body improvements and take care of this little guy who tax payers paid for.

QUOTE: “To be able to destroy with good conscience, to be able to behave badly and call your bad behavior righteous indignation-this is the height of psychological luxury, the most delicious of moral treats.” Aldous Huxley

WRITERS TIP (COMMENT): Hmmm. The above quote reminds me of—-local government!!!!!!!


MEET THE AUTHOR LUNCHEON

MEET THE AUTHOR LUNCHEON
February 10 1:30 to 3:30
114 N. Topsail Dr.
The Mermaid’s Purse

Meet some of the areas finest authors
And enjoy
Lunch and a beverage

$10

For more information go to the Mermaids Purse on Facebook or the Mermaid’s Book Corner.


It’s a beautiful morning

It’s a beautiful morning!

Don’t you just love days like this–the peace, the wonder of that great big ocean and all that goes along with it. Geez, makes one so glad to be alive.

But nefarious forces are fast at work here at Topsail Island. Ah Ha! That wascally wascal from SHARK’S BREATH, Eleanor, is about to be exposed for the horrible parent she is.  Here’s a little snippet from the book:

Jimmying a trailer door was the easiest thing in the world. Making it up the shaky steps of the back entrance was harder. Twice Don nearly slipped on the slime and mold that had grown there.
The term trailer trash came to mind as he opened the door and stepped inside to the overwhelming stench of cigarettes and pee. Shaking his head, Don noticed the stack of soiled sheets piled on the washing machine in front of him; he was tempted to open the washer door and throw them in. But he didn’t. Rather, he moved stealthily down the hallway to the living area.
From the picture Lev had painted of Eleanor, Don could only imagine the punishment her daughter Tiffany had received from her mother for wetting the bed. If I had a mother like that I’d probably piss my pants too, he thought.

Still working on the book, going kinda slow–may as well blame the hurricane–but SHARK’S BREATH should be on time for Spring. Thank you readers!