Monday, November 9, 2015

Indie Writer's Showcase featuring Stephanie Greenhalgh's A Zombie Hunter and the Boobie Doll.

A Zombie Hunter and The Boobie Doll
By Stephanie Greenhalgh
Sunlight glinted through the leaves of the large oak as Caine and Nolia enjoyed a little down time. Completely engrossed in the latest Charlaine Harris novel, Nolia sat cross-legged with her back against the tree. A sly smile tugged at the corners of her mouth while she twirled a strand of brunette hair through her fingers, her eyes moving from side to side. Caine’s gaze intent on the Sudoku game on his phone.
Nolia’s phone buzzed. Lazily, she reach for it and smiled when her best friend’s name popped up. “Yo, what’s up?”
The hysterical voice on the other end had her sitting upright in record time. “We’re on our way,” her voice all business. Focused and serious, the athletic beauty clicked the phone shut and faced Caine.
“It’s Natalie’s sister, Lydia. She went to a cheer competition in Vegas. She was supposed to be home earlier today but never got on the plane. Natalie called all her friends, but they all thought she left. She was coming home early for a special mother/daughters birthday dinner.” Nolia informed.
“What do we know?” he asked. Natalie, an accomplished seer, had many inventive ways to gain otherwise difficult information, and Caine was certain she had already exhausted a variety of resources.
“She checked the looking glass and saw zombies.” Nolia met Caine’s gaze
            “On it,” the bald buff biker dude said. As the resident zombie hunter, he had his own wide reach of resources for the weird and supernatural. In a matter of seconds, he sent out an alert to friends and other zombie hunters. Not even a minute ticked by, before his phone blew up, Caine’s baby blues scanned the plethora of incoming texts.
 “A couple of local grease balls were seen grabbing a blonde girl near the airport. They hang at a local club and zombie habitat, my favorite.” He grinned, “I’ll head out there and check it out. Think you could give me a magical lift, babe?” He leaned in, brushed her neck with his lips, and gave her his best crooked grin.
“Yep, I think I have just what it takes to concoct the perfect Hickory Grove to Vegas portal.” She winked, and her shoulders straightened with pride. Caine didn’t doubt the reigning queen of realm traveling. His girl had mad skills.
When they walked through the front door of the second story apartment Nolia and Natalie shared, a leggy blonde stood over a looking glass. “We’re on this, Natalie, don’t worry. We’ve already got a lead and Caine is heading to Vegas to check it out. Plus, I have all the necessary ingredients to get him there in the next15 minutes,” She gave her friend a gentle hug, then got to work in her small but efficient kitchen.
Before long, Nolia had the caldron in front of her boiling and toiling. Natalie paced and Caine watched stoically, while Nolia expertly added a pinch mandrake and eye of newt to the already simmering pot.  After a brief chant from an old tattered booklet, a swirling bluish cloud engulfed the breakfast nook. Nolia raised her eyebrows and nodded expectantly toward Caine.
“I’ll text soon, babe.” Caine pulled Nolia into him and kissed her, running his hand down her back to her bum to give her ass a good-bye pat.
“Be safe,” she said, with a twinkle in her eyes.
“Always. And don’t worry, Natalie. I’ll have your sister back in a jiff.” He said, then leapt feet first into the swirling blue cloud and disappeared.
Moments later, the portal burped and spit Caine out in Las Vegas, Nevada. He shimmied to an abrupt stop right in front of ‘The Boobie Doll’ strip club. His core contracted as he balanced himself and allowed his insides to slide back into their regular space. Once he settled, the zombie hunter cocked his head from side to side until his neck snapped, crackled and popped. “Well, all right. This looks like my kinda place,” he said with a crooked smirk in place. Cracking his knuckles, Caine walked into a very dark and very seedy gentlemen’s club.
Zombie habitats could be enjoyable as long as you didn’t disrupt them. If one had a sick twisted sense of humor, habitats could be amusing to watch. Caine stared at the zombie bartenders, patrons and strippers. One look at the gray goo flopping around on stage and Caine cracked up.
The more he watched, the more he chuckled, until he heard a commotion from the back. The laughter froze in his throat. Quickly, he ducked behind a curtain to eavesdrop unnoticed. Turning, he found himself in the private room of a gelatinous male zombie getting a lap dance from a lady stripper zombie. Caine was certain she was losing her implants and maybe an eyeball. Unaware of the intrusion, the zombies continued their song and dance, but the voices outside distracted Caine.
“Get in there! The big guy wants to talk to you!” A foul fat man grumbled as he yanked a petite blonde by the hair.
“Let me go!” she yelled, kicking and contorting in any attempt to free herself from fatty’s slimy paws and leering eyes.
THWACK! The meaner, but quieter of the two goons, hauled off and smacked her. Blood spurted from her lip and she cried out in pain. “Easy now,” the chattier of the two asshats added.
Clenching his fist from behind the curtain, Caine resisted the urge to jump over tables and dim-witted zombies to pummel the two captors. He took five deep breaths. He didn’t bother with ten, if he couldn’t refrain in five, then whatever he was up against didn’t deserve the extra seconds.  Grudgingly, he breathed deeply and allowed the two goons to drag the girl into the back room.
Leaving the cloak of the private room, Caine gingerly made his way through the zombie horde. It would a huge disaster to disrupt the herd while planning a one-man rescue. In an attempt to keep disruptions to the bare minimum, Caine even endured a lap dance with one gooey stripper zombie before he made it across the club floor.
Finally, Caine got the back door. Putting his ear up to the door, he listened carefully, before he turned the knob slowly and peeked into the room. A blonde girl sat gagged and tied to a chair.
“Lydia…” He whispered. Closing the door behind him, he crept into the room.
Her eyes smiled and she sat up straighter.
“You okay?” He whispered, pulling his dagger from the sheath tethered to his thigh. With one quick movement, he sliced through the plastic ties around her wrists, freeing her. “Let’s get out of here. Ready?”
Lydia nodded, pulling off the duct tape covering her mouth. As the pair turned to leave, Caine’s eyes widened and his crooked grin broadened when he pulled open the door. At least a dozen dead and drooling zombies stood before them, looking for an afternoon snack.
“Well, shit. I knew that seemed too easy. Change of plans, kiddo,” He said before he grabbed the girl and threw her over his shoulder. “Phone’s in my back pocket, Lydia. Grab it and text Nolia. Tell her I’ve got you and we’re ready,” Caine instructed. The frightened girl nodded reaching for the phone. “And hold on.”
Even with a girl slung over his shoulder, Caine spun on one foot and kicked the first decaying dead person in the face. One of his round-house kicks took out at least six zombies as they systematically tumbled like dominoes. With the miniature crossbow tethered to his arm, Caine sent tiny silver darts into the necks of three more ghouls. Then a female zombie from behind the bar stood drooling in front of Caine. She was larger than the rest with nails like talons. Grunting and moaning, she lurched forward. With little effort, Caine’s heel made contact with her jaw. As her gooey head caved in, Caine whipped around to unleash another round-house. At the same time, Lydia flung her silver necklace toward the last of the zombie mob. Between the kick and the silver, the large bartender zombie stumbled backward, taking out the last four drooling dead guys like bowling pins.
“Hold on, Lydia. We’re almost home.” Caine said as they bolted out the front door to find a bluish cloud swirling before him. With a satisfied grin, he tightened his grip around the girl before he jumped in and the two vanished from the desert.
The pair shimmied to a stop back in Natalie and Nolia’s apartment. Caine steadied himself and gently set Lydia down. Natalie rushed to embrace her sister, while Nolia sauntered over with a satisfied smile. “Well done, handsome.”
“It was all for you, babe,” he said, as his eyes took in every inch of her, like he hadn’t seen her in a year.
Leaning on her tip toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck. He pulled her closer, lifting her off the floor. “There’s more to this, though babe, all those girls are in danger. Lydia was their guinea pig. These grease balls are planning to grab more when the rest of the cheerleaders leave tomorrow. They are trying to increase their zombie stripper horde.”
“I know. That’s why I’m holding on, handsome. We’re going back, you and me. I’ve concocted a potion to trap them in a prison realm, then we’ll hand the off to Xander. He’s the wise mentor and he’ll know what to do with them. Plus, this way, no one else will get hurt.”
“You are brilliant and it’s so freaking sexy. I’ll get a hold of a buddy of mine and make sure that habitat gets cleaned up after we’re through.”
“Handsome and helpful. Only two of the many reasons I adore you.” She let her lips brush across his lips, then found his cheek before she let go of him and turned toward Natalie and Lydia. “You two get to your mom’s for your special dinner. I’ll text you later,” Nolia said, blowing a kiss in the direction of her best friend.
“Thanks, guys! I owe you!” Natalie gushed and pulled her sister closer. “Give ‘em hell and lock those bastards up!”
“You know it,” Nolia turned back to Caine, “Ready?”
“Yep,” Caine stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close.
 Nolia reached into the travel bag slung across her body, then tossed a pinch of something into a stone bowl on the kitchen table before she chanted, “MOTARIOUS TRAVELIOUS IMMEDIOUSATED LAS VEGAS.”
Within moments, a swirling blue whirl erupted. Grabbing a small vial from her bag, Nolia gathered a small bit of the blue purplish swirling portal. “For an easy get-a-way,” she said securing the vial back in her travel bag. Turning to face Caine, she reached around his neck and held on tightly, “Go when you’re ready,”
Caine jumped in with both feet, but before long, he was skidding to a stop in the same private room he had hidden in not that long ago. “What were you thinking when we went thru?” Caine chuckled, releasing Nolia.
 “I wanted to land in a safe place. What on earth is that?” Nolia pointed to the gyrating glob of goo as she danced for the male.
“Don’t ask, but it’s better to not disturb. The rest of the club is on the other side of these.” He opened the curtain a crack to see what lay ahead. “It’s quiet out there, and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
“Man, this place stinks,” Nolia crinkled her nose as she squeezed between Caine and the curtain to get her own view. “I’d like to capture these two asshats and get home. Where do you think they are?”
“My guess would be the storage room in the back.”
“Then, let’s go,” Nolia brushed passed the curtain and tip-toed across the room. The amount of zombie goo was simply unreal and she had on her new Chuck Taylors. Caine followed without a care about his shoes. Work boots were meant to get dirty and he had a job to do.
As they approached the door, Nolia opened a charm on her necklace and poured a handful of pink dust into her palm. Then she brought her forefinger to her lips and mouthed, “On three.” Caine nodded, as she counted down with her fingers. When she had a fist, Caine burst through the door, leading with his crossbow. Deftly, he sent two tranquillizer darts flying across the room.
Shocked, the men reached for their necks, as numbness began to seep into their blood. Nolia walked in with a polite smile plastered to her face and a handful of disappearing dust in her palm. “Until we can figure out more about you, we’re going to keep you and others safe,” she said before, blowing the dust in their direction with one big breath.  The goons’ eyes widened and their bodies swerved and swayed, until they slowly distorted into tiny fragments of dust floating in the air.
Satisfied the danger had been neutralized, Nolia reached into her bag and pulled out a small steel box. When she opened the rectangular box, the pentagram carved in the bottom illuminated. A bright purple hue glowed throughout the room. The floating dust roared to life as the box jumped and bucked. Nolia gripped it in her hands until the box consumed all the dust and the lid snapped shut. A quiet calm filled the zombie strip club.
“Damn, I’m glad that’s over,” Nolia sighed, clipping mystical a padlock to the outside. “Let’s get these two fats cats home to Xander. He can figure out if they’re a threat or just stupid,” Nolia said, closing the gap between her and Caine and placing one arm around his neck, “And I’m certain he won’t have any intel until tomorrow at the earliest, so I think we need to celebrate our small victory with a night out.”
“Now, that’s an idea I can get behind.” He pulled her close.
Nolia retrieved the vial with the blue purplish liquid from her travel bag. She snapped her wrist, flinging the vial at the wall. “Hickory Grove,” she said. Within moments, the blue swirl sucked them home.

Be sure and check out Stephanie's first book in the Ruby Hood series, now only 99 cents: http://amzn.to/1PxPl9L

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Saturday, November 7, 2015

Indie Writer's Showcase: My very first entry! Jessica Samuels: A Vampire Bar.

A Vampire Bar
Crystal Crest Realm
By:Jessica Samuels
  It was a long day at work, and I needed to drown out the pain of dealing with people. I hated today since they were making me crazy with  running freight, and I wanted to sit and relax at a bar. Where do I go? Wing Command since I love their food, and a shot of Goldschlager and a Red Bull and vodka is just what I need. It was one of those days, and I got off at 5 while boyfriend got off at the same time. I thought about it the whole time at work, and I really wanted this night at the bar. I got out of my work clothes since I just got off.  I relaxed a little bit just to wind down while I wait for my boyfriend Derek to get home. I wrote some because I’m a writer and I was so pissed at this day I just had to get it off my chest. The day had been long with me working non-stop doing different things at once. Zoning, phone watching, repeat over and over again. That’s it and the time ticked by so slow I thought I would go bonkers with it. I hated it. Picking up shoe after shoe when customers toss out a shoe they don’t want to buy. They stuff it under the shelves or leave it where it is.
          I let it all go since I’m off from that hell for two days which means I can go to my hangout. I’ll have a few drinks and it will make the night off better. I worked on my retail story AngelWitch to get over the stupidity of today, and that’s what they say write what you know. My name is Dannika, and this night at Wing Command will change my life forever. My boyfriend comes home from work, and I’m happy because he is my rock to this crazy life. I get my things ready and we go out. We take my car, and the drive is short too. It’s less than ten minutes away, and close by which is good after drinking some. Derek parks the car, and I get out. The front is a big place, and on the outside Wing Command is there with a little plane at the end of the blue words. I love it, and I don’t need to be ID’d since it’s still early right now. We go inside and it’s all red walls with flat screens placed throughout the store. There is a bar area, pool area, and the main area with a place where bands can perform on Thursday. I know the owner, and he is a very friendly Filipino guy. Always gives me a hug, and his wife is nice too. I’ve been going there for a few years. I love it there, and I get my usual place with my waitress. Her name is Monica, and she always gets my drink order. I get the usual drink and so does Derek. I love his blue eyes and short hair too cut like military style since the Army has it like that. He is 5’5 and I’m 4’8 we make it work since we have been dating for 8 months. We talk about everything his day and my dreaded morning shift. I can talk to him for hours at this point. The drinks are here, and I take a shot down of the drink and sip on my Red Bull and Vodka. It makes all my troubles go away, and I’m happy now. I’m no longer worried over work bull shit, and the boss threatening to get me in trouble if I don’t work faster thanks to the person in charge of my area. I don’t worry about much, but I notice it doesn’t taste like it usually does. It has a metallic taste to it. Like blood. I look at my drink and it is blood….

….I pass out and wake up in a room with a bed and I’m tied to it. Great…I wonder how much time is passed since I took a drink. Derek is nowhere to be found. But some time passes, and he comes through the door.
“Are you okay?” He asked me.
“What happened?” I asked him wondering how I got here.
“I turned you into a vampire so you can get revenge on your evil boss, and coworker.” He told me with a wicked glint in his eyes. He knew exactly what I needed.
          Things are getting worse at SaveMart, and it was time to clean house. I’m thirsty and I look to my left there is a glass of blood on a nightstand, and I drink the whole thing. It actually has a taste to it, and it tasted really good. The best drink of water when I’m in the desert. Why don’t I freak out? Why don’t I call him a monster and break up with him? Because I’ve had an obsession with vampires for a while, and I have always wanted to be one. The owners of my favorite haunt are vampires, and they even turned their waitresses into them. They need me to be on their team to go after the mean customers.
 I look at him, “Thanks, and I love you.”
“I love you too, and I don’t want to go on living without you. Now go after the bitches. They deserve to die especially the snitch.”
“Will do, and I don’t want to be without you either.” I tell him.
I get up and notice that my reflexes are better, my strength stronger, and I’m fierce too. My humanity is gone, and I will not feel guilty about killing that lazy bitch either. She does not do anything. Then afterward I can go to Luxor, and live there with Derek. I wanted to get out of Crystal Crest so here is my chance.
          A few days later I clock in for my last shift ever because I’m not going to go into work anymore for this hell hole. They ride me too much, and I can’t take it anymore. I plan on getting in trouble and then when they both pull me in I will take them out with my silencer on my revolver. My silenced .38. I drive and the sun does not bother me at all. I love it. I was afraid I would have to give up the sun I don’t have to. I get dressed in my tacky uniform and head out. Once I get there I start zoning like usual. I notice a cart of shoes, but I ignore it today. I’m giving her a taste of her own medicine first. I’ll make her do her job for once.
Supervisor comes up to me, “You know you have a cart to do, and it’s right there. Then we have five more to go.”
Screw it…
“Well, if that’s the case you had better start now so you can finish it by the time you leave.”
She scoffs, “It’s your job actually do as I say.”
“No, I won’t do work for you since your a lazy bitch. You have me and others do the work while you do practically nothing. You call me slow and say I need to speed it up while you leave shit behind the counter. You’re a lazy piece of shit, and I hope you choke and die.”
She glares, “I’ll get the manager and we will coach you for being a smart ass.”
“Then go get her because I want to talk to her about how much of a lazy bitch you are…”
She leaves, and I’m happy since I did see the manager. Once they pull me into the office I’ll take them out to finish the job….
An hour after finishing the area she called me slow in I get a call.
“They need to see you in the office.” A coworker tells me.
“Gladly…”
I walk to the front, and the bitch is there with the boss.
Boss looked at me, “Now tell me why you were rude to supervisor.”
“She is a lazy bitch, and I’m not doing shit till you fire her.”
“How about I fire you?” She told me.
My reply, “You can’t since I already quit…”
I take my .38 and aim it at the bosses head. I pull the trigger, and the bullet goes right through her and blood splatters into the wall.
“You were useless anyway…” I tell her unmoving body.
I turn my attention to bitch supervisor, and then give her a mean glare.
“Consider this death sentence for being a lazy bitch, and not doing your job.” I do the same to her, and then I leave. I fill the office with kerosene and strike a match.
“I’ve always hated this job anyway.” I throw the match, and it lights up like a Christmas tree…I get home in record time, and tell Derek about everything…
“Good they deserved it.”
Then we leave the Crystal Crest, and go to Luxor where I get a better job and better treatment. I become a famous author there, and live out eternity as a vampire loving it every single day…..

The End….
 *********************
Jessica's book The Killer Contract Agency is coming soon from Write More Publications!




Sunday, October 25, 2015

Theme for the Indie Writer's Showcase short story: Paranormal Where You Live!

Theme: Local, Regional or even national! A Paranormal story about where you live, your neighborhood, your favorite hangout, your local historical landmark, your favorite park, body of water, your state, province or your country!

A week later, I will 'harvest' indie writers for the showcase. After a two week notice, the writers will email me (or Facebook message me) their stories. I will them post each entry on a first come, first served basis on this blog and Tweet about it. I will also post it on several Facebook pages.

I will be checking next Monday for entries. How do you contact me? Find me under 'Liz Kingsbury McKeown' on Facebook. Message me on Twitter: @WritersBoost
OR you can leave a comment on this posting.

I can't wait.

P.S. Forgot to put in maximum word count: 1,500 words, but if your Muse says to put in more, then that's fine.

Saturday, October 24, 2015

Shifting gears: Starting an indie writer's showcase. Inspired by Guy's Grocery Games.

I have been having trouble coordinating the schedules of indie writers and celebrity chefs, especially since the chefs are on the road so much.

 Inspired by Food Network's Guy's Grocery Games, I am starting an indie writer's showcase. I want to give a story theme for the short story. A week later, I will 'harvest' indie writers for the showcase. After a two week notice, the writers will email me (or Facebook message me) their stories. I will them post each entry on a first come, first served basis on this blog and Tweet about it. I will also post it on several Facebook pages.

I will blog again tomorrow with a theme. All entrants are winners!!

Looking forward to it - Liz Kingsbury Mckeown

Sunday, October 11, 2015

Poem Number 6 - Call Me.

Stacy and I both called the hypnotherapist.
Group session: one hypnotherapist, two clients, probably the same past lives, or similar ones at any rate.
We tense completely up like fists, then relax, completely relax.
Three deep clearing breaths; in all the way, then slowly exhale.
We are coming to the entrance of an art gallery, made just for us.
I describe the exterior of mine. It's sunny outside, wherever I'm supposed to be.
It looks more like an everyday public library or art museum. Nondescript with double doors.
Stacy describes a white Victorian mansion that's been converted into a museum. It's in Perth, Western Australia where she's from originally.
At the prompt from Kent, our therapist, I go inside to my inner mind.
The floors are polished brick tile. I see glass display cases, but nothing really clear yet.
Stacy notices hardwood floors, and an antique table with a marble top and a crystal vase containing multicolored flowers, orchids.
I take the elevator down ten levels. With each level, I go deeper into a state of relaxation.
Stacy takes a staircase down with a beautiful ebony banister. She hears her footsteps echo as she descends into a state of deep relaxation.
Deeper relaxed.
I find a subterranean art exhibit all pertaining to my life, past life to be exact.
Stacy finds a Victorian library complete with bookcases, nick nacks on the mantle of a fireplace and many paintings on the wall.
The more I look at the small statues, sculptures and paintings, the more uneasy I feel.
Stacy matter of factly says, 'I thought so.'
Breaking hypnosilence, I bring up the woman in the grocery store from the summer of 1980. The woman with the accent who grabbed my left arm.
She said no outsider would ever have a tattoo like that.
She noticed I tried to have it removed.
I politely tell her that it's not a tattoo; it's a birthmark.

Poem Number Five: Talk Talk.

We were going back to Stacy's house, but some kind neighbor is plowing the street.
We both really want to go to Yussel's Deli. It was our hangout in college.
We ate salad and other diet food for days so we could pig out at Yussel's.
Pastrami on Rye with that brown mustard you can't find anywhere else.
Sigh.

Yussel is still at his post behind the counter with the same chipper personality. He greets us enthusiastically. "My favorite Shiksa girls! You've come back, Robin! I've missed you!"
Stracy and I go barreling to the edge of the counter to embrace him.
He meets us at the edge of the counter and hugs us both.
"Robin, how are you?" Yussel warmly asks, unaware of my recent divorce.
"Um, divorced?"
"How about your favorite pastrami with Swiss cheese on rye with mustard? Warmed up, maybe? On the house!"
"Yussel, you're all heart."
"And Stacy McKenna McKinnet, you'll want a Reuben on Pumpernickel with two Kosher dills." Yussel loved the sound of McKenna Mckinnet ever since she married Bob, her father's business associate, 11 years her senior. Since  1981, he always addresses her by her full name.
"Hell would freeze if I didn't order that."
"So, is your husband still in Australia?" Bob Mckinnet, the Viet Nam vet from Pittsburgh who spent most of his Navy years in Australia.
"Until February first."
"Nu, did you install the home security system I told you about?"
"Robin is staying with me. We'll use our self-defense tactics from college."
"You can never be too safe."
I couldn't keep quiet. "What can you do to protect yourself from nightmares?"
Yussel pondered for a moment and then joyfully pointed to us. "Love!"
He beamed, his smile contagious.

The smells of comfort food and the warm atmosphere is a welcome relief from the wet cold.
Between bites of sandwich, pickle and chips I speak softly to Stacy. "Should we tell him?"
"What? About our possible past lives? We don't know how he'd take it."
We agree to be quiet until we get home.


Saturday, October 10, 2015

Poem Number Four: Still January, 1983 - Talk to You Later.

The name of the hippie store is 'Butterflies'.
The name conjures up butterflies lighting up a sunny, summer day, even when you're down.
It also speaks to the kind of butterflies you get in your stomach if anyone you know sees you in a store like this.

Here we are; Stacy Mckenna McKinnet  and I, in our business casual attire entering the store famous for the owner:The Queen of 1971. Mrs. Applegate, or Ms. Applegate, as she prefers to be called used to crochet everything. Even now, I can't imagine a long, crocheted acrylic vest that ties in the front without seeing Becky's mom. Becky, my classmate, tries to hide the surprise in her eyes as Stacy and I enter her family store. I'm waiting for her to ask us if we were lost; a futile question as Stacy and I grew up with her in Kazoo.

Becky, Lorna Finch Applegate's only child, is being groomed to take over Butterflies.
Stacy and I stare at her like a couple of lost puppies looking for their mother.
Stacy and I in our casual Yuppy attire stick out like sore thumbs.

Lorna merrily descends upon us with the milder mannered Becky in her wake.
"So, Robin. I hear you lost that capitalist, yuppy frat boy. Do you still go by 'Robin Sullivan O'Connor'?" she begins. "Once you drop your ex-husband's name, your psyche will heal a lot sooner."
What will she do for an encore? Tell us to burn our bras?
"I'm still in shock, Ms Applegate." 
"Oh, please. Call me Lorna."
"Yes, Lorna." Lorna who kept her husband's last name. Hmph.
Becky warmly greets us with, "How about a tour of the store? We have a lot of new merchandise you might like." We nod and follow Becky.

Stacy blurts out, 'We need your help. We have night terrors we can't get rid of.'
I chime in. 'We're thinking about hypnosis, but we don't know what to do.'
'Oh, bugger, Robin! We were so caught up in our night terror crisis that we left wet, salty footprints all over the carpet! I can pay to have it cleaned.'
Becky smiles, 'This time of the year, ten more people will track in snow, salt and sand.
It's fine. I don't suppose the two of you believe in past lives.'
Stacy and I look at each other and freeze.
And it is Stacy who brakes the silence, 'We don't know what's bloody wrong with us!'

Becky calmly hands us business cards of a hypnotherapist who is  also an 'intuitive', whatever that is.
Then, I spot a necklace, picture jasper. It doesn't look all crocheted or beady. I show it to Stacy. We continue shopping, now relaxed since we have a valid reason to be in the store.