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CC and the Fed ~~~ Chapter Two

Hello dear people! Hope your week went well. If it didn’t, sorry, and don’t worry, it’s the weekend!

Below is Chapter two of my new serial story CC and the Fed. Chapter one can be found here. Please read it if you haven’t all ready. Thank you if you have!

Now on with Chapter Two!




News stories, flash in my mind. Yeah, I remember the deal. Dirk O’Flannery, 36, one of those kind of politicians that make my skin prickly. With a cheesy, white tooth smile, flashing brown eyes and dimpled cheeks. I can see a young, naive chick fallin’ for something like that. I also heard ol‘ Dirk was dirty. Well, hell ain’t most politicians?

My mind also flashed a picture seen somewhere. A young woman, probably only about 22 or so, on ol‘ Dirks arm at some fancy dinner. Petite, blonde, with a putrid, adoring smile plastered on her pretty face for the dirty and now dead politician.

“If she didn’t do it, why is she hiding?”

“She’s scared.”


Fed gave me a cold stare. I wasn’t impressed.  I just gave him stare for stare.

“She called me a couple of days ago.”


I knew I was starting to sound like a damn recording that was stuck on one word. That just made me irritated. The man wasn’t giving me much to work with here. He either wanted his cousin found or not. I didn’t care either way. If she did do the dirty politician in, I’d shake her hand and let her walk away. One less in my opinion is a good thing.

“To tell me she didn’t kill O’Flannery.”

“Why not just call her back and tell her to meet you?”

“I tried, she must have gotten rid of her phone as the signal is dead.”

“Not as dumb as she looks.”

Fed sighed, reached in his jacket pocket and pushed something across the table to me. Glancing down I saw a more recent picture of the girl and a small gadget. I picked it up and took a closer look. I’d heard about these things. Never seen one except in the latest issue of Spies R Us magazine. It was no bigger than my pinky fingernail, made to fit inside the ear where no one could see it. It was both a phone and listening device.

From what I had read, it could be programmed from one to 100 numbers. You activated it by voice. It was programmed for one person’s voice only. They could whisper the name of whom to call, the device would pick it up, call the person and voila! You had communication. It was also a recorder. If you activated the recording part of it, it was able to pick up any noise or conversation within a mile. The person could tell it to delete certain noises, like cars, other people talking, anything really till it zoomed on what you wanted to hear. Really handy to have in my business. But expensive and regulated tightly. By the Feds of course.

I put the gadget back down and grabbed the photo. Yeah, that was the face I saw in the news. Still looked young, but perhaps not as naive as she used to be. Sad. That’s how she looked here. It also looked like it was taken by a satellite device. Probably Feds again.

I looked at Fed. He looked back. Neither one wanted to give an inch. Something about him still gave me vibes. Not good ones either.

Shit, I was going to take the case. I hated when I went against my better judgement. I was doing it my way though. And not with some fancy gadget that probably tracked everything I said and did. This is one chick who isn’t naive. Or stupid. Most days anyway.

“Keep your toy.”

“Take it, you can stay in contact with me. It’s all ready programmed for your voice.”

“I got my own toys. I know how to contact you.”

His eyes looked like chipped ice. Slowly he pushed the gadget back toward me. I saw Tiny out of the corner of my eye reach for his bat and start to come around the bar. I waved him back, never taking my eyes off Fed.

I slowly picked the gadget up between two fingers. I didn’t even blink. My hand hovered between him and me. I stood.

Taking one step, I was next to Fed. I dropped the gadget in what was left of his beer.

“You’re not her cousin. Nor her friend. You can’t find her. I can.”

Fed grabbed my wrist. Hard. It was going to leave a damn bruise. I didn’t flinch.

“You work for me or stay out of it.”

“Can’t now. Not working for you either.”

Growling deep, Fed put more pressure on my wrist. Hurt like hell. Not that I was going to show it.

“Leave it be or you’ll get hurt.”

“You obviously can’t find her. Whether she did it or not, she deserves better than you.”

“What makes you think I’m not her cousin?”

“Here I thought you did your research. Obviously not, but I did. She has no boy cousins, only girls. I looked her up before I got here.”

By now my hand was numb. Damn it. I was going to have to ice the sucker down.

“You might think you’re smart. If you were, you’d work for me, not against me.”

I couldn’t help myself, I baited him. Sometimes I don’t know when to keep my lips shut.

“We’ll see who finds her first. I’m betting I will.”

Fed let go of my wrist. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me rub the circulation back in.

“Then I’ll see you in hell.”

I let out of laugh. Did he really say what I heard? That was so melodramatic, I couldn’t even get my anger back. He sounded like a bad old movie. See you in hell? Seriously?

I stepped back. Smiling still, because I knew it would irritate. I shook my head at him.

“You aren’t even Fed, at least not anymore. Even those losers aren’t that stupid. So you must work for someone else. The O’Flannery family?”

Fed’s cold eyes glanced up at me. I smiled.

“Like I said, I do my research.”

Actually, it was just a shot in the dark guess. I was surprised when it hit the bullseye.

He just shrugged. I walked away. Well, this was getting interesting. Didn’t turn out like I thought. I just have to find a girl whose face is plastered all over the news. Every money hungry grubber is going to want to find her. I had to beat them all. Easy. Not.

I shoved the bar door closed after me. Immediately I stepped into the shadows. A habit I developed years ago. Stood me in good stead now. I heard the bullet hit the bricks next to my head. Dammit, Used to be Fed was pissed and gave someone outside his orders.

Now what the hell have I got myself into?

Blogging · Fiction · postaday · Serial story · stories · writing

New Story! ~~ CC and the Fed


CC and the Fed


I sit nursing my whiskey. Tiny is behind the bar, giving me the eye every now and then. Yeah, Tiny, a strange man. Most would think with a moniker like Tiny he would be a mountain of a man. You know, just the opposite of his nick. Tiny, aka Freddy, is just that, tiny. Barely 5 feet tall, with greased back black hair, brown eyes that don’t miss much. A small man, many a bigger man has misjudged. He owns the bar and rules it with a custom-made baseball bat.

I’ve seen Tiny take out men three times bigger than him. He’s not afraid of anyone. If I’m ever in a pinch and need backup, I call on Tiny. He owes me a few favors. Which he tries to collect between the sheets so to speak. He’s not my type. All though word on the street is he’s a magician in that department. I don’t want to know.

I take another sip of my whiskey. I’m waiting for a potential customer. I got a call early this morning, some guy needing me to find someone. Well, that’s what I do. Find people. You could say it’s a specialty of mine. I got into by accident, but that’s a story for another day.

I got a vibe from this guy this morning. Not bad, not good either. He knew me, my reputation and I got the feeling he knew a lot more about me than he should have. The vibe I got was cop. Or Fed.
He talked more like a Fed guy. Curt. Said what he wanted, didn’t offer more. So I got curious. At first I was gonna just say, ‘no thanks’. Then my interest was piqued. So here I am.

Why does a Fed need me to find someone? That’s what they do. So do I, but not nearly by the same book as Fed guys do. Maybe that’s why he needs me. No use speculating. I’ll find out if he ever shows up. I almost told him to meet me at my office. Yeah, I got me a office, if that’s what you want to call it. A dingy place downtown, up three flights of stairs. Even has my name on the door, ‘Charly Cumberstoke’.

Quite a handle huh? Cumberstoke, man, what was my mother thinking marrying a man with a name like that? Anyway, most call me Charly, or CC if they’re friends. Not many get to call me CC. I’m particular about friends. That and lately my friends have a tendency of getting themselves shot. Not conductive for friendships.

I was just about to finish the whiskey and order another, when I spotted him. The Fed. They never can pull off the average Joe look. He tried though, I’ll give him that. The eyes give it away every time. Can’t hide those cop eyes. The way they swiftly take everything and everyone in. The hardness in them, the calculation.

Fed zeroed in on me like a laser. I downed the whiskey that was half way to my mouth. Motioned for Tiny to bring another one. Then watched as Fed walked straight to me. His eyes took in what they could see with me sitting in the dark corner. Yeah, I knew what he saw, a 32-year-old woman with black hair, cut short, gray eyes with specks of green, surrounded by dark lashes and eyebrows. Looked like Fed stood about five eleven, so I’d almost be able to look him in the eye standing up. With heels, straight in the eye.

I was glad to be wearing my boots with the four-inch heels. I didn’t want to be that much shorter than Fed. He rankled something in me. Deep in me. Wasn’t sure I liked it much. My curiosity though has played havoc with my life before. I figured this time was another of those instances. I should just stand up and tell him no thanks before he even sat down.

I leaned back and sighed silently, too damn late. Fed sat and Tiny brought me my drink. After asking Fed what he wanted and getting a deep voiced answer, Tiny looked at me and said, “If you need anything CC, just yell.”

I nodded my head and Tiny went to fill Fed’s order. We stared at each other, I saw that hard Fed look in his green eyes. His baseball cap was hiding blonde hair, from what I could see peeking out from under the cap. Black leather jacket over a black T-shirt. I had noticed the tight, worn blue jeans and tough leather biker boots on his feet. Yeah, from the look of him, he was Fed, but a muscled one. No pencil pusher, this one. Or if he was a desk jockey, he worked out in the company gym.

I looked back at the icy green eyes and saw he was studying me just as close. Just what I didn’t need, a hard ass. I cocked an eyebrow, inviting him to say his piece so I could turn him down and get home. I was tired, it had been a damn hard day.

Tiny showed up at the edge of the table, he set the beer Fed had ordered in front of him. Hands on hips Tiny looks Fed up and down, curls his lip and turns to me.

“You ok here CC? You just says the word and this joker is outta ‘ere.”

“I’m good Tiny.”

“You sure?”

I look at Tiny, what’s he trying to prove here? He knows I can take care of myself.

“I’m good.” I say roughly. Tiny gives Fed one more curl of his lip and saunters off.

I take my whiskey and toss it down. Damn. What the hell is up with Tiny? Putting the whiskey glass down a bit too hard, I stare at Fed.

“What you want?” I ask him.

It’s his turn to cock an eyebrow.

“That your boyfriend?”


“Acts like he is.”

“I’m not responsible for how he acts. Now state your business, I got things to do.”

“I need you to find someone.” Fed stated as he slowly turned his beer glass as it rested in its own sweat on the worn table.

“That’s what you said this morning on the phone. You’re a Fed. Why don’t you find this person yourself?”

I got to admit, it gave me a warm feeling when Fed glanced up quickly in surprise. Yeah, I‘m kinda shallow that way.

“I never said I was Fed.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He stared at me, I could see the debate in his eyes. So to be contrary, I asked him a question.

“Who you want found that you can’t find?”

“I heard you were the best at what you do.”

“I am.”

“How did you know I was a federal agent?”

The question set me back a second. Changed gears on me. But, I figured I’d give him his answer, then maybe he’d give me his story. Yeah, I was curious now. Damn, my curiosity has gotten me in more trouble than a tomcat in a dark alley. I still wasn’t sure I’d take the case, but I wanted my curiosity satisfied.

“Your attitude.”

“My attitude? I was on the phone.”


“You got I was a federal agent from a 3 minute phone call?”

“You asked, I answered. Now why do you need to hire me?”

I stayed quiet as Fed turned his beer glass again. I could tell he was debating telling me or not. I knew to keep my mouth shut now. It wasn’t easy though. I looked at my empty glass, deciding against another one. I wanted to be clear-headed with Fed around.

Fed looked up at me and I could tell from the look in his eyes, I was about to hear his story. I settled back and waited.

“I need you to find my cousin.”

“Why can’t you find this cousin?”

“If I find her, I’ll have to arrest her.”

“Does she need arresting?”


“You don’t know?”

“I need to talk to her first. If you found her, I could talk to her and decide what to do. She’s just a kid.”

“What’s she suppose to have done?”

“Murdered her politician lover.”



To be continued………….

(This is a new ongoing story that I am working on. It’s in a different genre than I have done before. More in the old style Private Eye books that were out in the 1940’s and 50’s. Hope you enjoyed)


Blog challenge · Blogging · Fiction · postaday · Serial story · Uncategorized · writing

Picture Writing Prompt ~~~ Part 2

Hello out there in blog world! Today is the second installment of my ongoing story based on pictures that you voted on!

The pictures that were voted on can be found here.  The first installment of the story can be found here. 

At first I was going to write separate stories for each of the winning pictures (there was a 3 way tie!). Then as I wrote the first story I knew I needed to keep going with it. So I decided to incorporate all the pictures in one ongoing story. Each segment would be posted on Tuesdays. Smart hey? Well we’ll see!

Today is part 2 of the story. I suppose I should have a title too, right? Hmm, how about:

On The Run

Now on with the story.

The rain had finally stopped. Amber folded up her umbrella without breaking stride. She wanted to be home. Safe and warm and dry. She slowed her steps to one of a fast walk. Her shoeless feet hurt and she was soaking wet, but she kept walking. Every now and then she turned and gave a quick look behind her. Still nothing.

She just wished she would see some people. Amber thought there would be less chance of the man she knew as Donnie doing anything to her if there were people about. She was coming up to the park that was a few blocks from her apartment. Her steps quickened as she knew there was always someone at the park, it was a popular place to sit and visit. Amber also felt relieved that she was that much closer to home.

Amber hadn’t thought much about how she would get into her apartment, as she left her purse and keys at the shop. Maybe she could tell the manager that she lost her keys and he would let her in without too many questions. After that, well she would think of something.


Edith and Myrtle sat on their favorite bench in the park. It had been raining earlier but now the rain had stopped. The two women had been fast friends since the second grade. Now they were older, grayer, but still best friends fifty years later.

Every day they took a walk through the park. Rain or shine the two friends never missed a day. They liked to sit and talk about family and friends. Or other people in the park. They loved to gossip, though they never called it gossiping. They were just catching up with each other. After all, talk amoung life long friends couldn’t be gossip they said. Even if they sometimes talked about people they didn’t even know.

The two women grew up together, never lived more than a block away from each other. They married in the same month, the same year. Edith had three kids, Myrtle two. When Edith lost her husband last year, Myrtle was by her side through it all. She comforted and  helped with the funeral arrangements.

Their kids grew up together and used to joke about their mothers finishing each other’s sentences. That’s how close they were.

Edith was the first to spot Amber. She recognized the young woman as a tenet in the same apartment building she lived in.  Amber lived on the floor above Edith, but the older woman knew all about her. Edith knew about all the people in her building. And what Edith knew, Myrtle knew.

“Look Myrtle, isn’t that…..”

“Amber? She’s the one that lives above you, right? Wonder why she is so ….”

“Wet! Look at her Myrtle, she’s even…..”

“Barefoot! Why, where is that child’s shoes Edith? She looks like she’s…..”

“Afraid! Why she looks like she is terrified! Wonder what the…..”

“Trouble is? Maybe we should offer our…..”

“Help! You are always wanting to help others my dear. Such a good person you are. Not sure what…”

“We could do? Why we won’t know unless we ask.”


Amber sat on the park bench. There were people around, even though it had rained. She was so very tired, she just had to sit a few minutes. Amber felt safe enough with other people around to rest  before she ran the next few blocks home. She kept her eyes circling the park, on the lookout for Donnie. She wanted to make sure he wasn’t around when she sprinted to her apartment.

She spied the two old ladies purposely moving towards her. She recognized one of them as the tenant below her in the apartment building where she lived. What was her name again? Edith! That was it. She had talked to her a few times, seemed like a nice old lady. A bit nosey, but then wasn’t most old ladies?

“Hello Amber! See Myrtle, I told you it was…….”

“Amber, yes my dear, and you are right. So child why are you…..”

“Barefoot and wet? Can we…..”

“Help in any way child? You look like you’ve seen a ……”

“Ghost! Yes you do, you are so pale. If you are on your way…..”

“Home, we can walk with you dear!”

Amber felt she was watching a tennis match as her head swiveled from one lady to the next. Fascinated she listened to them finish each others sentences and almost forgot Donnie and the danger she was in.

She was soon brought back to earth as she spotted a man next to a tree. It was Donnie! She was sure of it! Even though she had just caught a brief sight of him in the alley behind the store, she knew in her gut it was Donnie. It didn’t seem he had spotted her yet, as Myrtle and Edith were momentarily blocking his view of her.

That had to be Donnie though. Amber was positive it was. The man had stopped, he looked like he was as out of breath as she was. He stood with fists on hips and stood looking around the park. There was a frown on his face as he dug a cell phone from his jacket pocket. No doubt calling for backup. She had to get out of here!

Glancing up at the old ladies, she thought quickly. Donnie would be looking for a single female. With an umbrella. Not three women and only the two older ladies with umbrellas. As she stood to accept Myrtle and Edith’s offer of help, she casually pushed her umbrella off the back of the park bench where it fell to be hidden within the pile of fall leaves.

“Ladies, I would be so grateful for your help. Please may we go home now?” Amber asked as she hooked her arms in theirs and steered them toward her apartment building.

She kept the ladies close to her side as they walked out of the park. She glanced back briefly and watched as Donnie walked toward the other end of the park, cell phone to his ear. He didn’t look happy either.

“Of course dear. We’ll be glad to walk with you. Maybe you could tell us…..”

“What kind of trouble you’re in dear Amber. Myrtle and I would love to help in any…..”

“Way we can! That goes without saying Edith!”

“Thank you ladies for your offer of help. The trouble I’m in might be dangerous and I couldn’t ask you to put yourselves in danger.” Amber told them. She would figure out what to do next herself.

“Don’t worry about us dear! Why we could tell you some…..”

“Stories of when we were growing up! Edith and I were quite adventurous in our youth. Why we…..”

“Quite put the gray in our parents’ hair back in the little shanty town we grew up in! I remember….”

As the two old ladies reminisced about their youth, Amber half listened while she tried to think what she could do to keep Donny and his boss Alesky from finding her.

(This is my stopping point this week! I will continue the story next Tuesday. See you then! I love feedback and comments, so please let me know what you think!)

Blog challenge · Blogging · Daily Prompt · Fiction · postaday · Serial story · stories · writing

Daily Prompt: Everything Changes

Daily Prompt: Everything Changes

Walking down the street, you encounter a folded piece of paper on the sidewalk. You pick it up and read it and immediately, your life has changed. Describe this experience.


Emma walked slowly down the rain-sodden street. Her small hands stuffed deep within her jacket pockets. Her sneaker covered feet soaked with rain water, her blue jeans wet to the knee.

She felt none of it as she was deep within her own mind. The crisp Autumn wind whipped the ends of her tan-colored jacket around her legs. They were flapping wildly as she walked slowly in the fall storm. If someone was walking by her at this time they might have heard a deep heart-felt sigh escape her lips.

No one but Emma was out on such a wild cool day. The streets she walked were empty of other souls, rust colored leaves and Emma were the only things moving down the sidewalk. Sighing once more Emma finally lifted her dark blue eyes to see where she was at.

Using her right index finger she pushed up her glasses and looked through rain spotted lens to see where she was.  Her face registered surprise as she realized she had walked so far from home. She was in the town’s warehouse district. Large red bricked buildings stood on both sides of the quiet street.

Empty glass windows stared solemnly down at her. Lightening suddenly flashed and seconds later thunder made the ground beneath her feet shake. Emma felt her heart start to race in fright. Her sodden feet shifted quickly and she turned to head back to the safety of her small apartment.

Just as she started to take a step she noticed a folded up piece of paper on the ground in front of her. She gave a small gasp of surprise as she noticed the paper was clean and relatively dry considering the weather conditions. She hesitated and glanced left and right. Peering intently she tried to penetrate the deep shadows between the empty buildings.

Seeing nothing suspicious she stooped over and picked up the paper. She slowly unfolded it with stiff cold fingers. Her hands started to shake as she saw the first few lines scribbled on the now wet scroll.

Hunching her body over the note she read and reread her name repeatedly.

“Emma Posey”

She saw there was more writing, but she didn’t read the rest. Emma stuffed the note in her jacket pocket and almost at a run she headed for home.

Emma’s lungs felt like they were ready to burst as she turned the corner on her street. As she saw her street sign she felt relieved and a bit more safe. Turning her head for the 100th time since heading for home she scanned both sides of the street behind her. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary she breathed in a large gulp of air and started for her apartment building situated about the middle of the block.

Seeing the old familiar clapboard building that she had lived in for the past five years in front of her made her finally slow her steps. She felt safe now as she climbed the four cement steps to the front door. Taking a large key out of her pocket she opened the door and was greeted with the high-pitched yapping of  a small white dog.

“Quiet Pippa!”

Stepping out of the shadows was a tall, thin elderly man. His white hair hung a little too long, but his attire of crisp white shirt and well pressed black pants and shiny black shoes fit him well. In his thin long-fingered hand he held a soft sweet-smelling, rose-colored towel, which he handed to Emma.

“Emma dear, you’ll catch your death walking in this kind of weather!”

“Thank you Mr. Dickson for the towel.”

Emma wiped her face of rain and tried to dry her glasses on the towel. Grimacing at the sudden feel of cold damp clothes, Emma handed the towel back to Mr. Dickson.

Mr. Shay Dickson was the owner of the three-storied, 100-year-old house she was standing in. Emma rented a suite of rooms on the second floor from him. His faint Scottish accent always warmed her when she came home from work. It had become a habit for him to greet her as she walked through the big blue front door every evening.

As Emma started for the wide staircase to go up to her apartment, Mr. Dickson picked up Pippa and asked Emma why she didn’t go to work this morning. He was worried for her he said. He knew her boss was not always the most understanding of men, as they had several discussions about him in the past.

Emma hesitated as she wasn’t sure what to say. She knew Mr. Dickson only asked out of concern for her welfare. As Emma stood on the third step thinking of what she should say, she heard Mr. Dickson’s soft gentle voice once more.

“You don’t have to answer an old mans questions dear. I can see you are wet from the rain and are probably quite chilled. Go change and warm up and we’ll have a nice chat later over a good cup of tea.”

Smiling down at her sweet old friend, Emma nodded her head and went up to her apartment. Closing the door behind her Emma stood in the middle of her apartment and slowly took out the folded piece of paper from her jacket pocket.

Opening it up she once again saw her name printed on the paper. Reading further she slipped down to the floor to sit cross-legged to read the note again and again.

 ‘Emma Posey

     We need your help in an urgent matter that only you can help us with. Please meet us at 4pm on the 14th of this month at the corner of 4th street and Oak. We mean you no harm. This is a matter of life and death so please, please come!

    The Four Cousins’

Emma knew she didn’t have any cousins. In fact she had no relatives at all! So who were these “Four Cousins” and what did they want with her? Matter of life and death? Whose?

She sat on the floor for a long time, till the damp coldness of her clothes forced her to get up and change into something warm. Emma knew she was going to meet these Four Cousins on the 14th, which was this Friday! Emma also knew that somehow her life was never going to be the same again. The note changed everything, Emma felt it deep within her soul. As soon as she picked up that note from the wet ground, her life was forever changed.


As mentioned a few days ago I wanted to start a fiction Serial story. Today’s prompt set it in motion. It was the perfect set up for this story. I hope you will come back next week to see what happens with Emma, Mr. Dickson and Pippa and see who ‘The Four Cousins’ are.

Hope you enjoyed the first installment! All comments are welcomed.

Blog challenge · Blogging · Daily Prompt · Mi Vida Loca · nonfiction · postaday · stories · Stories of my life

It’s August and Time for a Fresh Start

Hello everyone! Hope your first day of August is going super! Mine so far is doing pretty good despite a sore hand.

I’ve given some things very serious thoughts lately.  When I saw the article from WordPress, Going Serial it seemed like an omen was sent.

Am I superstitious? Maybe just a bit in some things. Here’s the thing. If you are a regular reader of this blog you know that I haven’t been writing as regularly as usual the past few months. I apologize for that.

Seems like life was/is giving me fits lately and I got out of the habit of writing. I missed it, but I just couldn’t seem to get out of my funk. It finally reached the point where even I couldn’t hardly stand myself. I felt flat and lifeless and all around sad.


Everyone has stress in their lives and I am no exception. Oh I’m still under a boat load of stress. I’ve just decided to handle it differently.

Starting today, August 1st, I’m going to write every day this month. No more excuses, no more feeling sorry for myself. I’m going to sit my butt down and write!

I’ve been toying with the idea of a serial story for a couple of months actually. Like the old-time stories in Life magazine or like some other bloggers are doing. I think doing a serial will not only get me writing regularly again, but it will be fun!

Copyright : Denis Barbulat
Copyright : Denis Barbulat

Here’s my thoughts; To get myself writing every day I have several options. I have of course Friday Fictioneers which I love doing. That takes care of one day. I also have my Wednesday Comics, Sam and Me, which takes care of another day. That’s two days out of seven. Not too bad.

With five days left, I would take one of those days and post an original story that would fit the serial aspect. I’ve even thought  some reader participation would be fun.  Still working that one out in my head. I want to post the serial on the same day every week, so you, the reader know when it will come out.

On the other days that are left, I could do the Daily Posts, and mix it up with other original stories, fiction and non-fiction. So what do you think? Do you like the ideas or hate them? Does it sound like fun?


So the weeks would look like this:

Sunday: Daily post or other writing

Monday: Daily post or other

Tuesday: Daily post or other

Wednesday: Comic Sam and Me

Thursday: Serial story

Friday: Friday Fictioneers

Saturday: Daily post or other

Now if that schedule doesn’t get me back into the swing of things, nothing will!

Let me know what YOU think. Is there something you would like me to write about? If so let me know! I’m always open to new ideas.