A New Way to HaggleA New Way to Haggle2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Ratchet? You in here?"
"I'm under here, Rocky. Just give me a minute and I'll be all set…"
The Doberman's boots stuck out from under his car and the coyote could hear her hard at work on the undercarriage. Rachel Halling, better known as Ratchet of River Street, was the best in all of Blackthorn. Even if most people were still reluctant to trust a female mechanic, those in-the-know knew who to turn to.
"You're lucky I could squeeze you in! I have seven more today, alone!"
"Tis the season!"
"You're telling me! Black ice on the streets, drunk drivers coming home from parties, snow plows knocking off mirrors; it's a wonder I have time to eat!"
"I thought as much…"
Rocky looked around the room. The garage had a car in every bay save one piled high with tools and parts. The windows were clean and the floor was spotless, yet something was missing…
"Looks like you haven't had time to decorate, either."
"Ha!" she laughed. "I have more on my mind than flashing lights and holly!"
Tickling DixieTickling Dixie5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Memorial Day meant the opening of the outdoor season. Everyone in Blackthorn was thrilled with the recent warm spell, but no one was happier to see winter's end then Sarah Dixon.
Sarah worked as a security guard at Thornhurst Manor. She stood out prominently in her starched tan uniform, neatly pressed, with black slacks, belt and gloves. Her hair was usually done up in a pony tail; her piercing blue eyes peering over dark lenses.
Even off duty, the Doberman carried herself with an air of dignity and strength. She often wore a black sweater or tank top, depending on the weather, along with cargo pants or shorts. The look completed with black boots or, if she had her way, her inline skates.
Today was one of those days. She arrived at the bayside just before noon and parked her car in the shade. There, she sat with the door open for a moment, smil
Tickling Tired TootsiesTickling Tired Tootsies4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The Thornhurst Library is one of the few private rooms in the manor. It was never open to the public and only Mr. Wolf and Ms. Drake have keys to the door. Wolf has his office there, too, from which he conducts his daily tasks. It's a large room with a low ceiling. The book shelves are arranged in a half circle, all culminating on his desk. As such, he can see down every row and has easy access to anything he pleases.
Behind his desk is a small sitting area where he and his wife, Sasha, spend their days off. There are two comfy arm chairs set before a fire place and the two often sit for hours reading to themselves. They only break the silence to share the really good parts and it would seem as if they could be just as happy by themselves.
That isn't the case, though. When you love someone, you don't have to say a word; both of you already know. You want that person there with you because just being together makes you happy. That's how it is with Wolf and Sasha. He doesn't mind her com
Flashpoint: Chapter 8Interview E. GrantFlashpoint: Chapter 83 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Saturday, June 11, 2011, Central Police Station
Oliver Strom, Stage Crew Manager
Mr. Strom, the court has ordered you to provide us with a usable set of finger prints which will be used in comparison with those we obtained during out investigation. While we are waiting for the results of said comparison, I would like to take this time to ask you a few more questions. At this time, you are not under arrest and would be responding under your own free will. Do you understand?
Mr. Strom, why did you lie to us about the surveillance tapes? Spencer never received them from you and we have no reason to doubt this as his story has been confirmed by the victim, herself.
"I I don't know "
All right, well can you tell me why you gave free tickets to the Fox Brothers?
"How do you know about that?"
It's my job to know.
"I wanted to reward such loyal fans "
Don't lie to me! I know they abducted your niece!
"But Dona's the one who asked me to! Sh
Flashpoint: Chapter 1Due to his specialized knowledge of explosives, Investigator Elwood Grant was called in to assess the Brenner Music Hall incident. As you may have heard, a pyrotechnic charge misfired, injuring many of those in attendance. It was determined that the charge had been deliberately tampered with. Due to the nature of this crime, Grant motioned that the case be turned over to THORN as a possible act of terrorism. The motion has been sustained. This is now an authorized THORN investigation.Flashpoint: Chapter 13 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Initial Report F. Spencer
Friday, June 3, 2011, Central Police Station
Clara Fife is the lead singer for the Bit Bites, a techno-pop band. I was in attendance at her concert, off duty. After performing her latest song, Clara jumped off stage to engage in a round of crowd surfing. This is a regular event at her concerts and the crowd usually responds in a positive manor.
At 9:15 the spark emitter attached to the forestage went off. I could tell right away tha
Glitter and GoldieGoldie had been on the road for quite some time when he finally spotted a village on the horizon. The prospect of sleeping in a bed rather than out in the open gave him the strength to press on and, in no time at all, he arrived in Crooksford.Glitter and Goldie2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He made arrangements to spend the night and put down his last coin for supper. The night was young and the fox soon grew board. He decided to venture out and see what the town had to offer. Even without a cent to his name, a traveler could always find welcome at the local pub. Spinning tales and making boasts could earn a drink or two and it was a sure way to while away the hours.
The villagers were colorful and made for good company. He told of his adventures and they offered up advice and good cheer.
“The swamps in this area are so full of thorns; you’d be wise to get some footwear, boy!”
“Such a fine long coat, yet you go about without even a set of sandals? Your pads must be hard as rock!”
“I hear there are