Monday Before Taco Tuesday_Samurai Karen_Lather. Rinse. Repeat._Wish You Were Here
Catalog Guide:
Monday Before Taco Tuesday
Stephen J. Steyr III missed his old life. Humanity’s ambassador to the Galactic Combine, he had been plucked from his position as a professor of linguistics at Kenyon College, Ohio. He knew he had to follow along and make nice, smile without showing teeth, and accept the awww.onedoor.ccward graciously. He also knew it was undeserved.As the Speaker of the Combine read off his “heroic” deeds, Stephen wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear. He hadn’t done anything they said he had.“The Honorable Ambassador Steyr from Terra is the true definition of hero.”Stephen felt his stomach lurch. Don’t read the whole...
Samurai Karen
Go Time.Adrenaline slammed through my veins when I saw the text. I stuffed rope into a military-grade rucksack, grabbed the cooler and loaded everything into the back of my minivan. My nerves jumped higher than a Mississippi cricket on the sizzling summer asphalt; but only because it was my first time purposely kidnapping someone. I did not have second thoughts—this had to be done. We had to stop, The Critical Karen, from ruining more lives with her ugly, hurtful, lies. See, Karen McDermott, the world-renowned food critic, wrote scathing reviews of Foodville’s most successful restaurants. D...
Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
James was minding his own business, drinking his coffee and reading the paper. It was Sunday morning. His day off. His day to relax, maybe go outside and mow the lawn. If the weather wasn’t too hot. “This time it will be different.” Liz said pleadingly sitting down on the couch next to James. Convincing him to try new things was always a challenge. Her track record wasn’t that good and she really needed something to go as planned. “You said that the last time.” James said without looking at her. Saying no was easier if he didn’t look at her. Liz had a way with her eyes like a sad puppy or cut...
Wish You Were Here
Bonjour from the city of love! I don't have much space on this postcard, so I'll keep things brief. I'm heading to the all-you-can-eat crêpe buffet soon anyway. My new lover, Jacques, doesn't mind a woman with a few extra curves. More cushion for the pushin', you know?Oh, you should see him. Jacques is quite the looker, a total zaddy. Like George Clooney without the drug problem. I'm talking high cheekbones and a strong jawline. An accent that can turn cheddar into gouda. Washboard abs you could do two and a half loads of laundry on. I'm pretty sure the Paris Match magazine even called his bod...