The copy was straight to the point. Wanted: Information on the hit-and-run murder of Haley Joseph. Tuesday, August 18th, 11:30 p.m., Vermont Ave near Hillside St. And across the bottom, right over her press-on French manicure, $15,000 reward. I peered Read More …
Inside the navy-blue Victorian house two blocks off Main Street, four women sat around a sturdy kitchen table. As you watched them chatting and sipping sweet tea, you might assume you were observing a church committee or a quilting circle. Read More …
“Papà.” I looked into my father’s eyes, deep blue and set off by leathery skin and rows of wrinkles—the result of age, but also a lifetime of long hours in fishing boats out in the sun. “Oh, Papà,” I said Read More …
The faint breeze from the open window carried the sound of the Burgermeister’s rich baritone singing the arpeggios Haydn had assigned him: “Do Mi So Mi Do.” In the distance, he could hear the soft, melodious strains of the barber-surgeon’s violin. Read More …
Honoria took the cloche off and shrugged off the coat with the white fox collar, laying them on one of the small tables flanking the door. She sniffed. Thanks to the croup, her sense of smell was still off. Yet Read More …
Not every city has a river running through it. And not many women plan a rendezvous at a San Antonio River Walk hotel during Fiesta Week after years of self-imposed celibacy. I was about to make history. — Nancy G. Read More …
When Will Rees finally arrived home, much later than he’d expected, he found his sister Caroline in the front parlor. Again. Since Rees and his wife Lydia had returned from Salem several weeks ago, Caroline visited often and always with Read More …
Saturday, January 18, 2020 5:47 A.M. After the storm passed, in the chilly hour before dawn, the last of the “space zombies” found their way back to their nest in the derelict house. From his command post, the squad leader Read More …
If only I could learn to say no, I wouldn’t be perched on a barstool in a redneck bar, breathing secondhand smoke and pretending to flirt with men sporting baseball caps and Confederate bandanas, their eyes riveted on my Victoria’s Read More …
Randy Alderson Spelling looks more like a girl than a woman. So tiny she’s nearly lost in the cushions of my office couch. Her legs jut out over the floor until she scoots forward and places her feet squarely on Read More …