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Saturday, November 21, 2015

Freebies Aren’t Just for Fridays

Check out these works by Queen of Spades available for FREE.
 



 
 
 
 
 
 
Disclaimer: Deals with adult situations.
 
After experiencing tragedies that lead her to a checkered life, Natasha has decided to go on the path to redemption. There is promise with her membership at Reverend Jamison’s church. When discoveries are accidentally made, does Natasha stay mum about what she’s learned or does she place a taint on religion?
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
I was taught throughout my life these three things: to love God, to love myself, and to always go to church. It was easy for me to do all of these because of my Mom and Dad.

Each Sunday, for as long as I could remember, my mom would clothe me in these frilly feminine pieces that would often make my neck itch and my stocking covered legs feel scratchy. Then, she and I would hop into the car with Dad and drive 20 miles to make the Sunday service. I was confused why the pulpit clapped their hands with the music or why at times, the preacher’s words would make some of the women swoon and the strongest of men cry. When I would ask, my mom would say that the Lord was speaking to them, and when He did, they would have no choice but to repent. I asked my mom why the Lord wouldn’t talk to me. I never fell out or started crying. I guess she didn’t have an answer for me, for she never said anything.My mom told me to never stop loving the Lord or myself, no matter what happened around me. Back then, I didn’t know why she told me that. But I found out soon enough. 
 

 
 
 



The bond between Mr. Bradley and granddaughter is put to the test when it coincides with his dedication to share the bounty of his garden with others in the neighborhood. When the deliveries start to dwindle down, how does the neighborhood react? Find out in this short story.






Mr. Bradley went to the bedroom and proceeded to get dressed. He threw on a white A-line shirt and a light green cotton button-down that had seen better days. Then, he pulled up and fastened his dark denim overalls. He looked around for his boots but just as quickly recalled they were in the living room. Mr. Bradley’s oversized straw hat hung on the bedpost. He didn’t want his head to get too hot. Plus, he was self-conscious of the center bald spot of his head but wasn’t brave enough to shave the rest of his pepper-colored hair.

After pulling a pair of white socks from the chest of drawers, Mr. Bradley made his way to the kitchen. To his surprise, his huge brown ceramic mug was already filled with hot tea. He carefully lifted the mug and sampled a taste. It was perfect—extra sweet just as he liked it! Mr. Bradley glanced around. He didn’t hear the TV so he knew his wife wasn’t up yet. The mystery of the tea was solved when he looked out the screen door and saw his granddaughter drawing.Mr. Bradley sat on the couch and savored all of his tea before putting on his socks and boots. The third step was a bit unsteady as he made his way outside. I will have to repair that later on today. Mr. Bradley didn’t want his wife or his granddaughter getting hurt.
 
 
 






Dahna is quite comfortable in her role as an outcast. Her favorite activities are painting her nails and hanging out on the beach. An observation by the quirky Carr leads to an endearing friendship between two unlikely people.
 
 
 
 
 

Dahna sat on the bench farthest from the school yard. It was the oldest of them all—cornflower blue with erratic splashes of rust. No one bothered her here. It was the perfect time to paint her nails. With the arrival of summer just a couple of weeks away, Dahna had stopped at the Dollar Tree that past weekend to pick out her signature colors. This year, it was Golden Paradise and Ocean Breeze.

Dahna's nail painting had become a ritual. She would always put on the clear—nicknamed Double Duty. Double Duty served as both base and top coat, which was one of the main secrets to a long lasting manicure. That, along with not doing any heavy manual labor. After allowing the first coat of Double Duty to dry, Dahna would alternate with colors. The next nail would be the opposite color of its predecessor. She had just finished the funky pattern on the fingernails of her left hand when a shadow blocked her light. Dahna looked up and squinted her eyes in annoyance.

“What do YOU want?”

“You missed a spot.”The comment threw her off. Dahna looked carefully at each nail but couldn't spot the error. As if he could sense her confusion, the guy sat down in front and gentle grabbed her thumb. Then, he dipped the nail polish wand about a quarter ways in the bottle. With one quick movement, the guy covered the small area Dahna had missed.