Short Waits? Short Stories!


So, we have decided to put up our newest book Shorts for Short Waits for free!!! For 48 hours, starting this Sunday Aug. 21 and going all the way through Monday Aug.22, we will be offering our book on Kindle Amazon for FREE!

The aim of the book is to provide the reader with short but entertaining stories to help get through those annoying waits at the dentist’s office or while in the check-out line at the grocery store.

Curious to see what kind of stories will be included? Here are a few links to some of our shorts we have posted on our blog to give you an idea.

A SitCom Life

The Advertisement (First Entry in a Multi-Part Story)


Note: None of the stories on our blog are included in the collection. They are all new stories.




Who Will I Be Today?

I saw this commercial once. It was some famous actor (I don’t remember who, because 1. I’m never good with remembering actors names and 2. I don’t really care enough to try…) talking about all of the different people he had “been” throughout his career. It’s true that actors have the chance to transform themselves into many different characters–fictional, historical, fantastical, whatever. And, when I was younger I used to always envy them for that. Continue reading



From Pixabay

The air felt heavy as Christine stood there with her suitcase, waiting for the train. She glanced over at Reverend Regland as he stood straight as a ramrod with a stoic expression as he stared straight in front of him. Christine wasn’t sure if she felt pity for the man or herself at that moment. She felt judged in fact that she had been judged. Her parents had deserted her upon hearing the lie that viper Ethel Woods had spread. Reverend Regland had volunteered to take the matter into his own hands and here they stood waiting for the train.

Reverend Regland had come to her 3 months ago and plopped an advertisement in front of her. She obediently answered the ad. At the time she cried every day begging her parents to believe her. But as the days dragged on the continued shunning and ostracizing by her parents and small community turned her grief into anticipation of a reply.

Christine glanced down at her simple attire and remembered how it all fell apart. She had been sitting in the front room finishing a tablecloth she was embroidering for her upcoming wedding to Jonah Wilson when her father burst into the room. His face was red with anger as he walked up and stood glaring down at her.

“Papa, what is wrong?” she asked.

“You have shamed us. It is all over town. How could you!” he shouted.

Christine sat there stunned at his anger. “Papa what have I done?” she asked.

“You and that outsider Tom were seen down by the lake! Ethel has gone to the Elders in tears and told of your indiscretion,” he yelled.

“What? Papa I don’t know what you are talking about,” she replied. “When did she say this took place?”

“Monday afternoon,” he replied as he started pacing back and forth in front of her.

“But Papa please believe me when I tell you I did not meet up with this Tom. It was not Tom it was…” she abruptly stopped her pleading knowing what they had done was forbidden.

“You told your Mama you were going to pick wild berries with Sara that afternoon. Sara has confessed you two never went,” he said stopping in front of her as he glared at her.

“Papa, please,” she pleaded as she looked up at her Papa. She could see tears forming in his eyes.

“You have been shunned. Reverend Regland is looking into a resolution to this problem,” he whispered as he turned and walked away. “You are no longer my daughter.”

Christine lowered her head and began to cry, recalling that Monday afternoon. It was not Tom that she had stolen away to the lake with but Jonah. Ever since she could remember she had dreamed of being joined with Jonah. When the day came and she had been promised to him she was elated. She knew Jonah must have felt the same way or why would he of insisted on their secret meetings? She could feel herself blush remembering the Monday meeting as he pulled her to the ground and began feverishly pulling at her dress. She had been shocked at his behavior. The other two secret meetings were just stolen moments of hand holding.

She had quickly pushed him to the side and stood up. “Jonah what has come over you!” she hissed. Jonah laid there smirking as he looked up to her.

“What? You can fool around with another and deny me?” he said angrily.

“What? I don’t know what you are saying!” she said.

“I ran into Ethel on the way here and she told me all about your other secret meetings,” he murmured as he stood up brushing off his trousers.

“I do not know what you are speaking about,” she replied reaching out to him.

“Enough,” he said pulling away.

“Jonah, please believe me. I will speak to Ethel and clear this all up. I promise,” she said.

The next day she had gone to Ethel and confronted her. Ethel assured her that Jonah must have misunderstood what she had said and that she would talk to Jonah and clear things up.

Christine stood there recalling Jonah’s reaction when she approached him the afternoon her father disowned her. After her father had left she had set her embroidery to the side and gone in search of him. Walking down the street she watched as the people she passed quietly turned their backs on her. She burst into the shop owned by Jonah’s parents and walked directly up to him. He didn’t even look her in the face but quietly turned his back.

Two months passed before she got the reply along with a train ticket. The note simply stated “I look forward to meeting you. Sincerely, Joseph Turner.”

Not long after that Jonah and Ethel announced their engagement.

The train slowly stopped in front of her. Christine felt a gentle breeze from the west with a promise of spring as she leaned over, picked up her suitcase and without looking back boarded the train.

Hope you enjoyed the fourth short story in a series we call Four Mail Order Brides.

Here are the three previous stories and their links.

“The Pearl Necklace” 

“The Advertisement”


Please let us know if you are enjoying this series so that we can make a decision if we should continue it or not. I am considering just taking the idea and turning it into a novella series. Thanks!

My Hypocritical Soap Box

Yes, I will preface this post with a straight forward statement–I’m a hypocrite. I indulge completely in the thing that I, to be honest, rather dislike on some level.

I’ll start by coming straight out and addressing what it is I’m talking about–quick, easy, and completely open self-publishing. Why am I a hypocrite? Because as much as I dislike it, I’m so extremely thankful for it.

Now, before you all jump on the “I hate this chick” bandwagon, let me explain.  Continue reading



Photo from Pixabay


The ability to identify with or understand another’s situation or feelings, Empathy is a distinctly human capability.

How many of us have recently reached out and touched someone to share in their sorrow or happiness? We express this in a hug, grasping of a shoulder, simple reaching out to hold their hand, a phone call, a simple verbal response, etc…

In today’s world, we are losing our ability to be more intimate or empathetic. We use our electronics devices for every means of communication.

We no longer verbally talk to people. Text messaging, e-cards, and e-mail have replaced our voice in communication. We have lost the ability to show intimacy with that person. We no longer hear their emotion. We only see it displayed on our device in short abbreviated text or emoticons.

Our display of photos on social media, though very nice, still has no emotional connection. How many pictures have you looked at and thought “wow, great picture!” We may even give it a like or a short comment. There is still no verbal communication or exchange of emotion. The person who posted those pictures doesn’t even know if you saw them. At times it can be a surprise if by chance you meet up with the poster or someone in the photos and talk about their trip, party, kids, etc.  And they are surprised at your knowledge especially, if they were not the person who posted the picture on social media.

That’s a whole other issue – do you really want people knowing your business posted by someone else?

How about the latest, newest way of greeting someone–the elbow bump instead of a good heartfelt handshake. Where’s the intimacy in that? Definitely not a way to express a feeling of good to see/meet you or empathy.

We are losing our human way of communication. We as humans were given the ability to express who we are through our facial expressions, body movement, voice intonation, tears, laughter, and even our signature. Can you express that in a txt, an emoticon or social media post?

I think it is sad that we are creating a generation that not only is losing their uniqueness but learning and seeing an unemotional means of interaction. How can we learn empathy if we cannot and do not express or show it in our unique human way.

How I Deal with the Dreaded “Writer’s Block”


Image from Pixabay

Anyone who has done any form of writing knows what it feels like to experience “writer’s block.” No matter if you’re writing a school paper, an article, a blog post, or a full-fledged 1200 page novel, you’ve surely had the feeling of being completely stuck at one point or another.

Well, there are a few things I do to get past those moments of “I have no idea what I’m saying and where I’m going with this…”.

To start out with, I view writer’s block as my body’s (and mind’s) way of telling me that I’m out of “creative gas.” I have nothing left in the tank; I can’t even think of character names, nonetheless develop a plot and make it worth anything!

So, I have found a few things that I do to “recharge” when I feel like I’m running low on creative juices.  Continue reading

Shorts for Short Waits!

Standing in line at the bank and feeling a little bored? There are no Pokémon around to catch, nothing exciting is happening on Facebook, and looking at Pinterest just makes you hungry. 

Well, we have the answer for your short-lived crisis! Our book Shorts for Short Waits is a collection of short stories (10 to be exact) that won’t take more than 5-minutes each to read and are perfect for those short, but very annoying, waits.


The stories include a variety of topics and genres, from romance to mystery, dystopian to police/crime themes. Surely, you’ll find something you love. And, suddenly, those annoying short waits won’t be so annoying anymore!

If you’d like to check it out, click HERE!

We’re busy busy!

So, everyone is back from their vacations, and we’re still not posting very often? What’s going on with this?

Well, dear blogging friends, don’t fret! We’re here, and we’re still busy at work with our writing/publishing dream. Currently, we’re working on finalizing our next project: “Shorts for Short Waits.”


This will be a collection of shorts that will be perfect for those annoying waits at the dentist’s office or when you’re standing in line at the bank. They will be similar to the shorts we’ve been posting here.

We hope to have it out and available to the public in the next few days (we’re aiming for Monday or Tuesday). And, once we get that up and running, we’ll be back here on WordPress like usual, sharing our journey with all of you wonderful people.


Stacie watched as the young lady two rows up flicked her blonde ringlets while smiling up at the ticket conductor “Ticket please”, he asked smiling back. “What takes you to Casper, Wyoming?”

“I’m meeting my fiancé there,” she replied.

“Lucky guy,” he replied handing her ticket back. Reaching Stacie’s seat he never even glanced at her. “Ticket please,” he mumbled.

Stacie handed him her ticket wishing he would smile at her the way he smiled at the blonde passenger. “Thank you,” he said continuing on.

Stacie felt the hurt and sadness begin to surface, bringing with it the memory of that day that changed her life–her sister Brittany’s wedding day.

Brittany was almost two years younger than her and quite beautiful. Everywhere they went people would stop and stare at Brittany. Stacie never was jealous of her baby sister and enjoyed people’s reaction to her beauty. Their relationship was close, so Stacie was, of course, in the wedding.

It was on a cool autumn day that had started out so beautifully. The ceremony was simple but elegant. Stacie and Brittany had just gotten their plates from the buffet table and were heading for the bridal table when they overheard James, Luke, and Sara–three of Brittany’s friends, talking. “I know, you would never know they were sisters,” she over heard Sara say.

“She is so plain looking. I don’t think she will ever marry,” replied Luke.

“Who would want to marry her?” said James.

Stacie had just stood there, too embarrassed to say a word. “Stacie, oh my, how cruel, please ignore them,” pleaded Brittany grabbing onto Stacies arm.

She couldn’t forget or ignore those comments. They had brought to reality what she knew was true. No one will ever want to marry her. She would never find true love.

It was two days before Christmas that she had read the advertisement: “Wife wanted. Christian. Under 25 years old.”

There were lots of advertisements for mail-order brides but this one just caught her eye. Rereading it for the third time she carefully cut it out and set it aside.

Every day for a week she thought about going west and being a bride. The thought of the adventure intrigued her, but the fear of being rejected because of her looks kept surfacing. Finally, exactly one week after she clipped the ad she stopped at the bank to check the account her father had set up on her birth. The amount was substantial as her father was a wealthy man. This made her decision easy, knowing she could provide for herself if she was rejected.

That day she replied and walked the letter to the post. It was a cold day with flurries of white snow falling that not only helped mask her tears as she walked but also gave her a feeling of being refreshed as excitement filled her. Picking up her pace she smiled to herself as dreams of adventure, a beautiful wedding, and love filled her thoughts.

Stacie gently folded the pale blue dress she had commissioned the seamstress to make. Visions of standing next to her groom as they exchanged vows of love danced in her head. Sighing, she gently placed it along with other items she had stored in a trunk at the foot of her bed. It had been almost two months since she had posted the letter.

She had told no one that she had replied to an advertisement to become a mail-order bride. Her parents would not have allowed her to do anything like that, even though she was approaching the age of twenty-three with no prospects of marriage. Stacie, glancing at her watch quickly, made her way downstairs to watch for the postman from the library window. Every day for the past week she stood quietly waiting and anticipating the arrival of a response.

Spotting the postman she quickly darted for the door. She stood there glancing down as the mail tumbled through the door slot. Gathering it swiftly she began to scan each piece. Catching her breath she stopped as she saw a letter posted in neat handwriting addressed to her. Setting the rest of the mail upon the side table she dashed to her room.

With shaking hands, she slowly opened the letter. Removing a one-way rail ticket and a note neatly written that stated: “I look forward to meeting you. Sincerely Joseph Turner.”

All of that had led her to where she was today–sitting on a train lumbering towards an unknown future. She swallowed back the tears, recalling how her parents had reacted and objected to her decision. The day she left they hugged and pleaded with her to change her mind without success. Sitting back with determination she listened to the clickety-clack of the train as it brought her closer to her dream of marriage and hopefully love.

Hope you enjoyed the third short story in a series we call Four Mail Order Brides. The first one we posted “The Pearl Necklace” inspired us to continue with the short story and start the series. The second short in the series we posted is called “The Advertisement”. Click on each title to read them. Please let us know what you think. We are really excited about this series and hope it will become one of your favorite fun reads.

Why I Write- Whitney

It’s my turn to answer this fun little question. =)

I started writing when I was really little. I’m not *really* an only child, but my siblings are all much older than me, so…

I guess for that reason I always had a really wild imagination, since a lot of times I’d have to play by myself. I think that’s probably why I started writing. Because I had so many imaginary worlds and stories flying around in my head, and I wanted to get them out.

In high school, I wrote–like most angsty teenagers do–to vent my frustration.

And now, as an adult, I write for a few different reasons. A lot of times it’s to relax–I’m a very stressed person, and escaping into writing helps me.

I also write to deal with loss–it’s a way of processing my emotions and feelings, and really letting myself experience them completely. This writing is usually very personal and private, though. And, honestly, I don’t even think I’ve mentioned anything about this part of my life on the blog or anything…

And, of course, even though I’m a big grown up adult, part of me still loves to write to escape into my child-like imagination. To pretend like the world with all of its “grown up problems” like rent, health insurance, work, taxes, etc. doesn’t exist, and I’m still just the little girl who likes to create pretend worlds.