I would love it if y'all would check out my new author website. I have my own domain name and all that sweet jazz. I tried to snazzy the place up for y'all so I hope you'll meander on over and take a look. If you like the site, please make use of the share buttons provided.
From the Books link you can find all my short story anthologies. The links on the page will take you to Amazon where they are all published.
Please sign the guestbook if you stop by. I'd love to hear from you!
Thursday, November 29, 2012
New Author Website
Labels:
angel sharum,
anthologies,
author,
author blog,
new website,
short story,
writer,
writing
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Indie Author Meet and Greet
Hey, y'all. Just wanted to post here for those who read the blog and let you know that I'm hosting an Indie Author Meet and Greet on Facebook tomorrow. Be sure and stop by if you can. We are giving away eBooks, an Amazon gift code and a coffee mug with my new logo. It'll be a fun way to meet some new authors you might love!
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Control
“Are you really going to wear that?”
I smiled when Amanda’s shoulders slumped and she hung her
head in shame. She actually looked good in the dress, but I couldn’t let her
know that. Oh no, she had to wear what I told her and only what I told her. You
had to keep your woman under control. Dad had taught me that, and it had served
him and mom well for fifty years.
“I’ll go change,” Amanda whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“Hurry up,” I ordered. “I can’t afford to be late for this
dinner.” When she didn’t leave fast enough, I added, “Not that you care about
the promotion anyway. Not with the way you keep spending money.”
Amanda hardly ever bought anything for herself, but she had
bought new school clothes for the children last week. I knew she would think of
that and be ashamed. She ran to the bedroom to change while I sat on the couch
and read the paper.
After ten years, it was easy to push her buttons. I used to
wonder why she didn’t leave, but then I figured it out. She actually believed
she was stupid and couldn’t survive on her own. I guess after hearing her
father say it all through her childhood and me say it during our marriage, she
took it for fact.
She was back in ten minutes, but I acted as if it had taken
hours. “It’s about time! What took you so long?”
“I’m sorry, Tony, I tried to hurry.”
“Well you didn’t try hard enough. If we’re late you can bet
your sweet ass they’ll know why.”
I knew we wouldn’t be late, but Amanda didn’t. I had never
allowed her to learn to drive. She had to take a cab to the store whenever she
went, which of course I complained about if it was more than once a week
because of the money.
We had plenty of money. I had socked it away for years, but
she had no idea. I gave her an allowance and that was all she got.
We made it to the dinner on time. Not that I didn’t belittle
Amanda because we were the last ones there. To her credit, she sucked back the
tears and held her head high while meeting all my associates. I had trained her
well.
When we were first married, she broke down in the middle of
a party. After I was through with her lesson, she never made that mistake
again. From then on, I could count on her to hold herself together no matter what
I said. Her self-control was actually astounding under the circumstances.
Dinner went well. Amanda never missed a step. I had made her
watch etiquette demonstration videos for two days straight during our first
year of marriage so she would never embarrass me when we were out. I even made
her stick to all the rules at home when it was just the family.
Not that I was going to tell her how well things went.
“Well that was just great, Amanda,” I snapped as soon as we
got in the car.
“I’m sorry,” she replied, even though she had no idea what I
was talking about. “I’ll do better next time.”
“Damn right you will. I think it’s time you dug those
etiquette videos back out and watched them again.”
“Yes, Tony, I’ll watch them tonight when we get home.”
“I’ll be lucky if I get the promotion now,” I added and
sulked the rest of the way home.
Sometimes, I got tired of the charade, but if I didn’t keep
up my end, Amanda might start thinking for herself and we couldn’t have that. I
needed her by my side. Nobody made partner at Sterns and Benfield who wasn’t
married.
I smiled when we walked in the door and Amanda headed
straight to the hall closet to fetch the videos. I stood in the doorway,
watched until she started the show, and sat down, and then I went to bed. I
would quiz her in the morning.
It was late and I was tired.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Wrong Number
Here was our writing exercise for the week:
You're sitting at work one day and receive a text message from an unrecognized number. The text says, "I have the money and hid the body." You think this is a practical joke from a friend, so you play along at first. But the more texts you receive, the more you realize that it isn't a joke. Write the text conversation you have with this unknown texter.
You're sitting at work one day and receive a text message from an unrecognized number. The text says, "I have the money and hid the body." You think this is a practical joke from a friend, so you play along at first. But the more texts you receive, the more you realize that it isn't a joke. Write the text conversation you have with this unknown texter.
Here is what I came up with. What do y'all think?
Unknown Number: I have
the money and hid the body.
“What’s so funny?”
James asked at your laughter.
“Just Tom being Tom,”
you answer and read the phone again before replying.
Drake: Did you hide it
in the place we talked about?
Unknown Number: Yes,
nobody will find him for years. By the time they do, we’ll be long gone.
“Humm,” you say. “Hey,
James.”
“Yeah?”
“Was Tom drunk when we
talked about offing Janet the other night?” At the puzzled look on James’s
face, you add, “You know, after she bitched me out about the alimony being
two days late?”
“Oh, now I remember.
No, Tom had just got there I think. Why?”
“Seems he’s mixed up,”
you say and then go back to texting.
Drake: I know Janet has
put on a few pounds but she doesn’t look like a man. LOL Are we heading to
Vegas?
Unknown Number: Who is Janet? We don’t need any more
complications. You need to take care of her. We’re going to Russia. I have
connections there. Just in case someone stumbles upon the body.
“Whoa!” you say and drop the phone.
“What now?” James asked
so you pick it up and show him.
“I don’t think that’s
Tom…”
Labels:
ex wife,
mistaken identity,
murder,
text message,
texting,
writing exercise,
wrong number
Friday, November 2, 2012
With Friends Like These...
“What’s going on?” I asked, trying to shake the grogginess
from my head.
I looked around when no one answered. I expected to be
alone, but instead, saw several of my friends standing over me. I wiped my eyes
because I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing. Each one, to a man, held a
gun, and what was worse was they were all pointing at me.
“What the hell?” I demanded. “Why are y’all pointing guns at
me?”
Roger looked like he was fixing to speak, but Charles
elbowed him and told him to shut up. The others just shuffled from foot to foot
and looked confused. I had no idea what was going on, but I was determined to
find out.
“Roger,” I said, looking directly at my best friend of
fifteen years. “What’s going on here? What’s with the guns?”
“Like you don’t know,” Charles snapped.
The others said yeah and shook their heads like I was
supposed to know what they were talking about.
“I don’t know, Charles. Why don’t you tell me?” I asked. “And
while you’re at it, why do I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck?”
I shook my head again, but couldn’t seem to clear it.
Charles was squinting at me, and Roger looked like he wanted to talk so bad he
was fixin’ to explode.
“Roger?” I tried to prod him. “Please, tell me what’s going
on here.”
“Come on, Trent, you know what you did,” Roger said before
Charles could stop him.
“What I did?” I waited for them to add more, but nobody was
forthcoming. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I could see that Charles was even starting to doubt. I still
didn’t know what they thought I did, but it must have been terrible for them to
be holding me a gunpoint. I was beginning to think they had already roughed me
up a bit and that’s why I was so out of it.
“Pricilla,” Burt piped up. “You hurt her bad, Trent.”
“What!” I yelled. “I love Pricilla. I’d never hurt her.”
“That’s what we thought,” Charles said. “Until Pricilla told
us what you did.”
I tried to remember what had happened that day, but I couldn’t
shake the cobwebs loose enough to think clearly.
“I would never hurt Pricilla. I don’t know what she said I
did or why, but I know I wouldn’t hurt her.”
Roger pulled Charles aside. I could see them arguing back
and forth. I don’t know why, but I hoped Roger won. When they finished, both
men stepped back into the circle.
“We want to believe you, Trent, we really do,” Roger said. “But
Pricilla,” he stopped to clear his throat. “Pricilla looked awful. You hurt her
bad.”
“I didn’t hurt her!” I yelled and jumped to my feet. Every
gun came up and I immediately settled back to my knees. “Please, you have to
believe me.”
I was fixing to argue my case some more when the doors burst
open. Pricilla hobbled in on the arm of her brother, Chuck.
“Wait!” she yelled. “Don’t hurt him.”
Everyone waited while she got her breath. I sure hoped she
could explain what was going on because it wasn’t looking good for me.
“Please forgive me, Trent,” she began. “I didn’t know what
else to do.”
I still had no idea what was going on, but the tears in her
eyes were more than I could take. “I love you, Pricilla. I’d never hurt you.”
“I know.”
“But,” Roger said. “You said he did.”
“I know what I said, but it was a lie.”
All the men lowered their guns, finally. Suddenly, I wasn’t
the only one who was confused.
“Why would you do such a thing?” Roger asked.
“I didn’t want to admit what really happened. I didn’t want
to lose Trent. Little did I know y’all would try to kill him!”
“What did you expect us to do?” Charles demanded. “You’re my
cousin!”
“I wasn’t thinking clearly.” We waited and she said, “I went
to Tubb’s last night.”
“The bar?”
“Yes, and I wa...,” she stuttered to a stop. “I was attacked
on the way out.”
“What!” I yelled.
“I’m so sorry, Trent. I didn’t know what to do.
“You’re sorry?” I asked, dragging her into my arms. “What
are you sorry for?”
“I was scared people would think I was a whore or something.
Going to a bar like that.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes, my sister goes there all the time. You
have nothing to be sorry for,” I assured her.
“You still love me?” she asked, tears streaming down her
face.
“I’ll always love you,” I replied. “I’m not so sure about
the rest of these lugs though.”
Labels:
enemies,
false accusations,
flash fiction,
friends,
guns,
mistakes,
writing exercise
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