Once The Wild Child rides into your life, you are never the same again…
I don’t remember where I first met Susie. I have been clicking ‘like’ on her posts since early 2011. I think it was the one about some frozen dead guy. She was in black & white then, I almost prefer that, as she is colorful enough without color… but it does show off her home in Boulder, Co. to a nice advantage. She actually prefers it all white, as she is an avid skier and has a white dog named Roxy. Roxy is the victim/subject of many a post, along with DJ Slash, Courtney and her husband Danny. She is a talented writer, artist, claims to be a tennis player, and has shown talent as a wannabe pole dancer… her dance numbers are legendary. Here’s where to meet her… Susie Lindau.
Susie is a special blogging buddy, not only to me, but to many other writers. Each month she throws a party on her blog. It’s called Use Me and Abuse Me Day, the purpose is to give her friends a forum to showcase their latest favorite piece of work. It is quite a party, as usually about 100 show up to brag and view each other’s offerings. I’ve met some talented writers and made some good friends at Susie’s parties. Do yourself a favor and come to the next one and add one of your stories.
This month Susie won’t be having a party. Something more important has taken the party’s place. She will be back soon (no, she is not in jail) and writing her blog again. I will be looking forward to June’s party. But for this month, her friend brickhousechick suggested we hijack ‘Use Me and Abuse Me Day’ and have our own party, to honor Susie for a change.
See you soon, Susie… I’ll be thinking of you today… your pal, Ted
‘Suzi’s Saga’ continues… is she getting closer to her goal? Will it get her killed? Where are the others? What sinister forces are still to be revealed? In the last few chapters we have seen Suzi resort to pickpocketing to make an unusual purchase and then get caught, her 15-year-old daughter being ravished in the front seat of a car, her friends in a frantic search and some ‘not so friends’ anxious to see her again. The Fiction Relay is the product of the demented Reclining Gentleman and his collaborators. Catch up with a summary and then read on…
The black and whites hit the parking lot in a fury of sirens and flashing lights, as the Nashville police respond quickly, statutory rape was not taken lightly in Tennessee. Their orders had come from high up, that the tip was more than credible. A fifteen year old girl was involved, and they were to arrest the man in the black Lincoln. The first officers on the scene saw the motorcycle with the lithe figure speed out of the parking lot, but it was the man they were after, so they quickly hemmed in the town car before the driver had a chance to exit.
A furious Spencer shot from the car to confront the cops. “Just what the hell do you think you are doing?”
” Sir, we are placing you under arrest for the rape of a minor. A concerned citizen reported the activity, and apparently caught your act on tape. Knows the girl. Besides, screwing in Hog Heaven’s parking lot is frowned upon.”
“That’s impossible, you can’t even see inside!”, a bug-eyed Spencer protested as the cuffs snapped and grew tighter.
“The windows may be tinted, but the windshield isn’t. You can have your say at the station, I’ll Mirandize you on the way.”
The dirty white van pulled out of the Hog’s lot and headed west to follow the bike. How the girl knew where she was headed they weren’t sure, but the occupants were tasked to protect her… as if Blue needed their help. Turning in pretty-boy Spencer was the best fun they’d had in some time. The Director had not been pleased with him and approved of the lesson, the douche would be out soon anyway.
A thousand miles west, Jose Torres helped a stunned Suzi stow her bags in the bed of a sun-bleached pick-up truck. ‘Sanderson‘… the distant name gave her a chill… ‘this was getting more complicated, but maybe he can help.’
Jose shifted into gear and tipped his stained cowboy hat, “I think you have my wallet. Let’s gas up those cans, and where exactly are we going?”
Two planes touch down at Albuquerque International Sunport. Sam and Ephraim depart the Southwest jet into the air-conditioned terminal. Outside on the shimmering tarmac, a private charter waits to deplane its fare. A determined Melissa helps a shrouded figure down the aisle, the stench overpowering the attendant at the open door… (to be continued)
The Noted Romance Writer, Dawn Rinken at The Mouse’s Soapbox is next to answer some of our questions, and add a few of her own no doubt…
It is hard going, but the demolition is scheduled for tomorrow. The brush that started at your ankles now reaches chest height; the fence is in sight.
Past bulldozers, poised like fierce beasts to devour the hapless sanatorium, you enter and hunt for #36.
Sadness overwhelms as you search her room for what was hidden within the wall. After the accident, her decline had been swift. Seventeen years since you learned the truth about Daisy, it’s now or never. An unseen hand guides you to a loose wallpaper patch, glittering Art Deco reveals itself.
Her bracelets are safe once again.
Roni Hanson slides into home, as the catcher waits for the throw, Emily Guard is hot on her heels… will she make it home safe?
The girls are going to the mainland for the Fast Pitch Post-season Tournament tomorrow, of course I’ll be there with my camera… so stay tuned to TedBook’s Daily Pics for more action from your Lady Wolverines. Good Luck Girls! (This was actually supposed to go to TedBook’s Daily Pics, but I screwed up… that’s okay, as I’m so proud of our girls more people get to see them now… lot’s more Lady Wolverine pics at TBDP)
This week Rochell Wisoff-Fields used my photo of the Icon Grill in Seattle. Janet Webb has written a fine story. This is the first I have read… there will be almost 100 written this week… and having sat in this bar, I am moved more.
One hundred words, one story.
One picture, many stories.
Read more by clicking the link at the very end…
or join if you dare!
He almost didn’t go. Too many miles in too few days, a week of writing deemed not good enough and erased, too many restaurant meals, too little exercise. But he needed time to unwind before going home.
She sat, absorbed (as always) in a book, somehow more connected than those constantly online. He caught her eye, smiled, raised his glass. Her grin and raised glass decided him. Tonight he’d say hello. He rose and…
jerked awake, sweating, crying, catching that same grin in the picture frame as he rolled across the empty space on the other side of the bed.