When Ian makes a magnaninous offer to his wife in order to save his marriage, he little realises the repercussions

Morningstar,

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, do when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

The following day was really just your average day. Notes where taken in most of the classes, homework was handed in. The roll was taken, and the school's rumor mill started to turn more and more about who was doing what and who was seeing who and who was going to fight who after school. You know, your average southern day. Not that any of that concerned me, I had to keep my shoulders hunched over an open notebook and my nose buried in a textbook. The daily drama did not concern me... And the only time I ever tuned into the rumor mill was when I was the subject of the rumor.

Johannes Malt Shop was a Benton mainstay, located on a few doors down from “Ginger Evens Bakery” and only a quarter mile from the towns only supermarket in town “Sunflower: Food store” it the main hang out for the tweens and teens all year round. And to honesty, really everybody stopped here to get a quick snack. There hamburgers, where to die for, and their milkshakes were the best around. Thick and creamy.

The gymnasium was filled to the brim with people. Colorful streamers hung down from the ceiling, romantic music filled the air with a loud tempo. Toward the back, there stood at least two dozen men, all dressed in coat and ties. Each one refused to look each other in the eyes as they shifted their weight from one foot to the other. Some played with the cuffs of there suits, other kept playing with there watches. Others just stood there, their arms folded over there chest and their eyes firmly glued to the dance floor. No doubt they were passing around small brown bottles of bourbon around.

The Treasure of Eerie, Arizona -- Chapter 5
By Christopher Leeson and Ellie Dauber

The final chapter – for now. George does chores. Tor returns the stolen horses. Female take notice.

Thanksgiving follows Halloween. While Halloween is all about the spooks, Thanksgiving is more about family and sharing the fruits of the earth. It was also the time of year people start playing Christmas music and every shop puts up a tiny Christmas village in there display windows. And considering that was in the south, I think the fake flakes of snow that piled high on the display tables, is the closest thing we’ll ever see to a “White Christmas”.

Nothing really happen after that. The weekend came and passed, with me spending the weekend as Jamie. Since I had little pocket money, and my sister was likewise broke, we spent the better part of Saturday and Sunday doing extra chores around the house to earn some extra coins. Sunday afternoon, when we finally knocked off, the whole house had been cleaned from top to bottom, swept, mopped and dusted. We even tackled the corners and baseboards. I’m proud to say the whole thing shinned like new money.

A novelette ...

After a horrible tragedy years earlier, a Christmas miracle will bring love to a hurting family and a better future for a little girl!

Copyright © 2018 by AuP reviner

Lily did my hair and makeup. She wanted to do more, but the chime of the front door filled the air. Mom and dad were home early it seemed. Lily blinked and stood me up, and took me by the hand and guided me down the hallway and then down the stairwell and finally we reached the foyer. And there in the doorway stood mom and dad, see mom and dad worked together, my family was.. I guess you would call us bourgeoisie. We owned and operated a store in downtown Benton ‘Potter Mercantile’. It was among the oldest businesses in operation. And my sister and I attend Benton Academy.

That afternoon, as I peered toward the glowing computer screen of my laptop. Wrecking my brain for ideas and lead ins for the rp post I was working on. I noticed the door of my bedroom open and there in the doorway stood my older sister. She had changed out of her school uniform and into something more casual. A pair of jeans and short sleeve shirt that had the logo of a popular girls band written across it. She stood there, eyeing me for a minute before she moved into my bedroom.

Our house wasn’t there. Mr. Starrett’s house was on the left, with his red F-150 in the driveway, and the Petrovs' house was on the right, with no cars in the driveway but all their super-early Christmas decorations on the porch and lawn (it wasn’t even Halloween yet) — and there was nothing between them.

Sophie could barely suppress her giggles as she and the rest of the crowd stood in anticipation of the event that was about to occur. Sure, the weather wasn’t perfect, but that didn’t matter. Sure, she was several hundred miles from her home in London, but that didn’t matter either. And sure, she was clad in a snug pencil dress and uncomfortable stiletto heeled shoes, but that just served to make the event all the more exciting for Sophie.

The steaks I’d brought from Sunflower turned out to be perfect and my sister had seasoned and charbroiled them to perfection. We rarely ate steak, but tonight my sister wanted to celebrate. Celebrate what I have no idea, I did know she been working around the clock this week. Some crops where coming in on the farm and that required the hiring of extra field hands. Those crops where in now and had already been sold and a check for them deposited into the farm account. That much I knew from the small bits and pieces from over hearing my sister talking to some of her friends.

eather’s House Party was the bread and butter of PBS the American cousin of the BBC. Each week Heather Ford would welcome guest from all walks of life onto her show and for whole duration of the two hour block they would be toasted and welcome. Toward the end of the show somebody, be it a guest from one of the segments or a member of the audience would be put into the fabled “The Gunge Booth” a phone book looking box that was trimmed in faux gold and copper.

Saturday came soon enough. A hazy mist hung over the whole town, the air was hot and humid. Stepping outside felt like one was stepping into a steam bath. The sickly sweet smell of magnolia blooms and blooming flowers scented the air. Across the street Ginger’s Bakery was putting out some fresh donuts in the display window. A few people were milling about the front of the local Post Office and finally a lone bagboy was gathering up some stray shopping carts in front of the Local Sunflower.

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I take a deep breath as I wake up, but even this action is enough to cause me a lot of pain in my chest. As I open my eyes, I’m briefly confused by my surroundings- this isn’t my bedroom in Cardiff, or even my old bedroom in London, but somewhere else… A hospital? That’d explain the pain in my chest, anyway…

“Good morning,” a familiar Welsh accent says, chilling the blood in my veins as I slowly turn my head and come face to face with my mother, and the stern look on her face…

“Oh god…” I moan as I open my eyes and am greeted by the bright sunlight and the oppressive heat of the room I’m in. “Oh- oh god!” I try to huddle my covers around me in a vain attempt to sleep away my hangover, but when all that does is make me even hotter, I slowly roll out of the bed, landing in a heap not on the floor, but on top of the unmoving form of the woman who was my classmate for the last three years.

“Katie?” I grunt, rolling off the freckled girl’s body and giving her a shake. “You still alive?”

I let out a long, satisfied moan as I stretch my slender body out on the sun lounger. It’s the hottest summer I’ve ever known, but that’s not the only thing that makes it the best summer ever- there’s also the fact that I have a disposable income of my own from not one but two part-time jobs, I have a tall, sexy boyfriend who seems to fancy me more with every passing day, and the not-so-small fact that I’m currently wearing just a tiny bikini, whereas 365 days ago, I was stuck in a cramped classroom wearing a hot, stuffy school uniform.