Showing posts with label # goodbooksaboutfamily. Show all posts
Showing posts with label # goodbooksaboutfamily. Show all posts

June 7, 2020

Write Wail

Silly things, such as write wail,  just come to me.  

Of course, my first thought is how it describes an author struggling to imagine the  next clever plot twist in his or her story. After long hours having that dreaded writer's block, they let out one heck of a yowl or write wail. Happily, I confess that a lack of mental creativity has never been my concern because my mind is always squirmin' like a toad.* 

Then again, write wail could be a description of a mother or grandmother pleading with her teenager to write a thank you note to Aunt Lulu for that thoughtful dorm room gift of a repurposed upside down plunger turned topiary. (Yes, it has been done, but not by Aunt Lulu ... Just sayin' ...) -jmm


*The great phrase sqirmin' like a toad is from Riders on the Storm by The Doors.  Thank you


August 6, 2019

Amelia Island's Mark of a Man Excerpt- Pat Dunnigan

Amelia Island's Mark of a Man,
part of The Goodbye Lie Series
      Jack Patrick is a little boy in 1882 in The Goodbye Lie, the first in my trilogy set on Amelia Island, Florida.  He gives his Irish family, the Dunnigans,  headaches and worry and lumps in their throats, but his intentions lean, for the most part, to the honorable. As the years go on, he uses his charms to his advantage when he must. He has a potent sense of right versus wrong, most of the time ...
     The third novel in the series, Amelia Island's Mark of a Man, features Pat, the name he prefers to be called as an adult.  Here is an excerpt from that book, likewise set in the Victorian seaside town of Fernandina. The time is 1898.

     "Mrs. Ickles has two tummies," announced six-year-old Nugget, "but Aunt Noreen wins 'cause she's got five!" 
Pat Dunnigan
      Agreeing with his nephew, Pat  Dunnigan wore a grin until, in the shadows beneath the stairwell, he spotted Marie, fingering the lapel of the cornet player. And she was whispering in his ear! But this reality was not what Pat perceived. No, he saw a stranger bent over an innocent--his innocent--slobbering onto her neck. Then he saw red! Without a word, with no hesitation, he grabbed the man's arm, spinning him off his sister. A solid left fist followed to the violator’s mouth. He damn sure wouldn't be nuzzling necks or puffing on horns any time soon, not with both lips split.