Saturday, December 31, 2011

43rd Six Sentence Sunday, starting the new year with a bang...

Welcome back Six Sunday friends. I'm digressing a little from The Falstaff Vampire Files because the second Josephine Fuller book, Large Target just came out and I have to celebrate with suitable fireworks.

After a night of passion that took an unexpected turn toward dawn Josephine and Mulligan have a serious talk over breakfast. They're on Coronado Island near San Diego where automobiles rule, so she tries to lighten the mood with some car talk...

"Come on, I'll walk you to your car," Mulligan said.

As we reached the parking lot at the hotel, I decided to show off the car I was borrowing, Mrs. Madrone's Lexus. "The remote control is hooked into the alarm so it makes the most amazing sound. Listen to this," I said, whipping out the remote as we headed for the Lexus.

I pressed the button and a deafening explosion shattered the car's windows and rocked it on its tires. I jumped back against Mulligan who was already pulling me away from the hot slap of air and spatter of glass.

For a good time check out the dozens of other Six Sunday writers who will be offering up New Year's surprises in six sentence doses at Six Sentence Sunday.

Saturday, December 17, 2011

42nd Six Sentence Sunday...You thought you could tell the dangerous ones

Kristin meets a mysterious huge old man in a shed. Common sense tells her to run, and are six sentences from The Falstaff Vampire Files.

You thought you could tell the dangerous ones, but you could make a fatal mistake. I knew a psychiatric nurse who guessed wrong--the patient had always been so quiet--right up until he nearly fractured her spine.

And yet when this man bowed in such a courtly way all my misgivings melted away and I took his outstretched hand, as he bent over my knuckles to kiss them in that European fashion that always causes consternation in American women. He stayed a safe arm's length away and I relaxed a little.

Despite his hair sticking up on all directions and his track suit pants with the stripe along the side that had clearly slept in, he smelled faintly of pine shavings, newly cut grass, and a faint, not unpleasant, overtone--a mushroom-like smell.

He began to cough again, at length, "Beg pardon--the dust--a quintessence of dust as the poet would have it."

All kinds of action in a wide variety of genres can be found by clicking the links to over 150 other writers' six sentence snippets at Six Sunday

Opps, for those who get automatic feed sorry for the duplicate with this not-so-small addition -Merry Christmas (next Sunday all the Six Sentencers will be taking the day off) and Happy New Year to all!

Saturday, December 10, 2011

41st Six Sentence Sunday...who's delusional here?

From The Falstaff Vampire Files, just after dusk, alone in a shed just behind her ex-lover’s house, Kristin sees a huge, old man emerge from a crate. He introduces himself as Sir John Falstaff.

Falstaff did seem appropriate to his age and girth, but he had picked an unusual figure to impersonate, or fixate on--not Napoleon or Elvis--but Shakespeare's Falstaff, a character from literature! Unusual.

No harm in talking to him--he seemed harmless. Had there ever been a journal article on delusions of being a fictional character? A flicker of self-interest ran through me at the thought of a journal article on this subject, and I must have showed it in some way because he leaned toward me.

I tensed up, remembering the months when I worked in a full-fledged mental hospital.

For more fun in six-sentence snippets, check out some (or all!) of the 160 authors at Six Sunday.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

40th Six Sunday sentences - Kristin considers the impossible...

From The Falstaff Vampire Files, a skeptical Kristin Marlowe tries to consider what to make of the man who has just risen up at sunset out of a crate in the shed behind her ex-lover's house.

"Sir John--sorry—I didn’t catch your last name?" I had, I just didn’t believe it.

He examined me with eyes that were bloodshot but not yellowed by the jaundice of liver disease, sighed and seemed to come to some kind of decision.

"The Bard dubbed me Falstaff, and many know that name. But most in your fair city call me Sir John. I was born John and won my knighthood on the field of battle."

For more fun from Six Sentence Sunday writers in all kinds of genres, check out this week's snippets at Six Sunday.