Genre:  Fantasy

I must have been 3 years old when I first saw the eyes in my space themed nursery. I was too small to be scared. They floated above my bed and I stared. Golden brown, slanted and mesmerizing – they hung there like tiny helium balloons. Lifting my teeny hands, I tried to grab the eyes, but they were out of my reach. I stared for as long as I could keep my little eyes open. The next morning, I remembered little. Every night they kept coming.…

Funky Words that Aren’t Used Every Day But Should Be…

Every now and then while writing and learning – have you come across funky words that we should use more often! Those that slide off the tongue make your sentences sound so different and fun!

Here are some examples. Feel free to add more in the “Comments” section and I will include them.


Playful. Example: “his smile was not just warming my loins – it was roguish too!


Small projecting part [not just that bump on your chest!]. Example: “his nose was so huge – it stuck out like a nipple on his face!”

The Feud

Genre:  Love Story

Tessa and Timmy had been neighbours for over 40 years.

They had seen each other grow, get married and divorced – in Timmy’s case. And widowed – in Tessa’s case. More years ago than they cared to remember – they had had a fight. Something to do with Timmy breaking a garden gnome. It was accidental but Tessa flipped. She loved her gnomes like they were her children. This particular one was part of a set of two and it was the last gift from her grandmother before she passed away. From that day on she loved her gnomes. Timmy tripped over it and the head broke off. She was heartbroken and vowed never to speak to him again.…


Genre:  Horror

Mickey is a freak – even he knows it. He has red hair – not the sexy strawberry blonde kind – more an Orangutan orange! His sloping shoulders lead to a skinny frame and milky skin. His face is pockmarked from many old pimples that he couldn’t stop picking. His job is a dead-end. He is desperate. He has no girlfriend, an insignificant past and no future. And his lift doesn’t go all the way to the top – if you know what I mean.

Poking around other people’s junk that could become his treasure, he wrinkles his nose at the shitty smell. He finds it sitting in the garbage. It’s on top of a filthy, old quilt and he is drawn to it. Black and silver and sexy, an old-fashioned typewriter, it calls to him as he stares at it. He’s powerless to resist and immediately puts it in his rucksack of junk before one of the other collectors claim it. If he had known what he was getting into, he would have run. Far and fast.…