Title: Dirty Fairytales Anthology Author: Cheri Marie, Brandy Dorsch, JM Schalm, LB Russell, Reagan Hollow, Carissa Laryea, Ava Harper Kent, Barb Shuler, Jaime Russell, Ava Danielle, Bethany Loughlin-Frost, and Kelsey Jensen Release Date: October 5, 2017 In the land of fairy tales, there’s no road too long, nor a sky too high to search for… Continue reading Dirty Fairytales Release Blitz
"The areas of our country that are considered “ghettos” are actually government funded waste dumps. I can’t help but believe this is a deep vein connecting stereotypes, to racism, to police brutality, avoidable arrests, to failing school systems."
Chapter One: The Setting In a dark, desolate corner of her empty house, Liz rests uneasily on her more than worn couch. Her brown hair is long and disheveled, showing evidence of days without a shower. Her elbow, frail like the rest of her malnourished body and wounded spirit, sits propped on the back of… Continue reading Nowhere to Go
Racially driven hate crimes are constantly being justified by the excuse of fear.
A tiny state in a small corner of the country played an imminent role in breaking racial barriers. This goes to show anyone, anywhere, has the ability to evoke change.
Let's face it, life can really feel like it is giving us a serious butt kick once in a while. There always comes a time when we feel absolutely helpless, like a derailed train with no brakes. Things spin out of control (work, family, finances, school work), or at least this is how our mind's… Continue reading When Life Feels Like A Drag
I watched as my grandmother waded her dry, cracked feet in the pond. She sat hunched over, her thinning gray hair blowing gently in the calming wind. She was alone now for the first time in her adult life, left to her empty house and lonesome thoughts. Her baggy clothes were a sign of malnourishment,… Continue reading Withering Woman
I never do well at these things, but then again who does? There's obviously nothing happy, nor exciting, about funeral parlors and reasons for being at one. As I rest in a dimly lit area of the room, the mirage of voices and sobs becomes a discomfort to my ears. I never quite know how to act, or what to say, especially to those who offer condolences and it is our first encounter in over a decade.