Why I Sold the Bookstore_CAF- The Italian Job_Returning Heroine_Looking for Trauma
Catalog Guide:
Why I Sold the Bookstore
Retired and financially secure, I decided to open a bookstore. "Sounds like a good way to waste your daughter's inheritance," said several of my friends and family.But the point was not to make money. Since the country was in the "great recession" and "e-readers" were the wave of the future, making a profit in a small, old fashioned independent book store seemed unlikely at best. What I wanted was to wallow in books, reread old favorites, find new ones, and hang out with writers and readers. I would return to my "English major" days of the time before I chose a career of work that would actual...
CAF- The Italian Job
The waiter at Gusto 101 stood waiting, staring at me as I flipped through the menu several times, stopping at the Cacio e Pepe each time. I wouldn't mind one of their grilled entrees served with escarole, cannellini, beans, and a lemony, garlicky salmoriglio sauce. The restaurant offers one of the finest Italian classics, yet each dish seems out of reach, looking at the price tags next to them. "Rob, don't you darewww.onedoor.cc order a big meal. We are all starving here." Sam was reading my mind watching me from the neighboring building, seated with a sniper rifle. "Could I get another cup of coffee and a ...
Returning Heroine
All great quests begin and end in the same place, the heroine’s hometown. The heroine is compelled to take on a task that is larger than life. She reluctantly leaves and embarks on an epic journey full of thrills, dangers, ups, and downs. She then returns once more to the warm embrace of home and her loved ones, completing her adventure. The heroine recounts her tales and can live the rest of her days happily in the halls of her beloved home, in the company of those whom she loves.Tess tried to remember that as she rode the bus across the country. Returning home is not something she had plann...
Looking for Trauma
As they sat on his stiff suede couch, a Survivor rerun he’d never intended to watch droning on his sixty-inch plasma screen TV, Anthony tried to slide an arm around her shoulders, but she flinched away—an act, by now, all too familiar to both of them. It reared its ugly head whenever he tried to do this, or embrace her, or kiss her, or put a hand on hers or caress her cheek or slide a palm up her thigh. She didn’t want to react this way—in fact, she’d tried very hard not to and felt horrible for showing Anthony rudeness that he didn’t deserve. But she couldn’t help it; each time intimac...