Saturday, June 27, 2020

A Tribute to My Friend Carl


At this time when a racial upraising is demanding relief and change after hundreds of years of hatred, discrimination and marches, I take this moment to remember my oldest friend, Carl.

I met Carl in 1965, a time when Martin Luther King, Jr., was forcing millions of white faces to see how racism and hatred had bred corruption and inhumanity.  

I am the product of a liberal family, growing up in California, who believed all men and women were created equal. When I read about the South and what the KKK was doing to black men and women, I was infuriated at the cruelty. As an idealistic and passionate teenager, and an aspiring writer, I spent an inordinate amount of time thinking up scenarios and plots where my heroine would infiltrate that evil organization and kill them off one by one.

All right. Maybe my idea of revenge proves that we are all capable of violence if called upon at the right moment. At least mine was fictional.

But I digress.

I was in my early twenties, living life as recklessly as a young woman seeking adventure and excitement could be. I was with a man thirty year my senior and the father of my oldest daughter. He was a product of discrimination himself. At the age of nine he watched his father being murdered because he married an Apache. The son spoke to no one for two years.

I was drawn to him because of what he’d been through. Five years later, I took my daughter and ran away from him because of what racism had done to him. He made it to the top of his field as a hard-hat diver and demolition expert, but never overcame the anger within, and his distrust and paranoia made him an unfit husband and father. I learned he had tried to kill his ex-brother-in-law, a Sicilian and part of the Mafia. I learned we were on the run, when I realized we had to leave towns without notice and change our last name in each new location.

So when I decided the time was right to leave him, I knew that I couldn’t count on anyone to help me. I was working as a waitress at the time in a small town in New Jersey near the Pennsylvania border. I confided in the black man who worked with me, and he stepped up when I told him I saw my chance to take my child and escape. Despite the risk, and the danger he faced if his good deed was discovered, he nevertheless offered to drive us to Philadelphia, where his older brother, Carl, agreed to take us in.

Carl asked no questions when I arrived with my six-month-old baby and ten dollars in my pocketbook. He welcomed me, fed me a simple meal, and offered to share his tiny apartment until I was back on my feet. I was the only white person living in his building, or even on his block. He was in his fifties, a retired musician from New Jersey. Retirement wasn’t his choice. He had played music in clubs owned by the Mafia. He happened to see something he shouldn’t have. The result was that he would never play music in a club or set foot in New Jersey again. He made the move to Philadelphia and found employment as a social worker.

He and his younger brother, saved my life. I have no doubt about that. I lived in his world for most of a year. Carl was the best friend I ever had. He treated me with kindness, generosity, and patience. We found mutual interests while spending hours in conversation. He took me to see Doctor Zhivago and on the way out got caught in a snowstorm. The trains weren’t running and we almost had to walk home before a cab driver decided to pick us up.

Carl backed my road to independence and gently corrected my missteps when I took a wrong turn. He found a wonderful black woman who ran a child care business in her home and took in my little white daughter while I found work. She watched her even while I had three jobs, virtually working around the clock to get back on my feet.

There have been very few people I considered best friends. Carl was one who never let me down. I hope I was able to make his life a little richer as he made mine. We understood and trusted one another. We came to the conclusion we weren’t very different from each other beneath the color of our skin.


Wednesday, February 12, 2020

ANNOUNCING NEW ANTHOLOGY BY THE FINAL TWIST WRITERS

 I am excited to anounce MENU FOR MAYHEM, a new anthology from The Final Twist Writers is now available as an ebook and paperback, and I am thrilled that my short story "Sucker Punch" is included, along with stories by a most talented group of writers: Cash Anthony, Mark Phillips, Charlotte Phillips, C.J. Sweet, Natasha Storfer, and Sally Love.



Menu for Mayhem: An Anthology by The Final Twist Writers by [Anthony, Cash, Phillips, Mark, Elvebak, Laura, Love, Sally, Storfer, Natasha, Phillips, Charlotte, Sweet, C.J.]


Tuesday, August 27, 2019

CAT FAMILY - EMMA


CAT FAMILY – EMMA


Emma


I noticed the dogs first. They weren’t as large as some others around my neighborhood. Really, they aren’t much taller than me. Both of them were the color of the tree trunks that bring shade to the area. They looked alike. Sisters, I decided. They were older, too. I mean, they could have been my grandmas.

I used to live on the apartment side. When my family moved and forgot me, I found a way under the fence to where the people seemed friendlier. I wanted to find a real family of my own. It wasn’t so much that I trusted everyone. I was hopeful, but careful. I might be young, but I’m not stupid. I believed there was someone out there who would take me in for real. Someone nice. I was too young to live on the street.

I knew the first time I saw Tequila and Quetta and the lady who walked them that they would be my family. You might say I chose them.

Twice a day they passed me—early when the morning was new then late in the afternoon when the sky turned color. I wanted to be with them so badly. Finally I just did it. I ran up alongside them and trotted along like I belonged there. Tequila and Quetta shot me looks, but they didn’t bark at me like other dogs would. The lady just laughed, like I made her happy.

But then they reached the street. That’s when I had to stop. I wanted so badly to cross with them, but the street had cars that flew by. I didn’t have to see what happens when one hits a kitten like me.

So I sat at the curb and watched as they crossed to the other side. The woman stopped and looked back at me. She called out. I knew she wanted me to come with them, but I couldn’t move. As much as I wanted to, I didn’t dare cross that street.

This went on, day after day. Sometimes she would start to come after me, but I panicked, terrified of what lay beyond the other side. So I turned tail and ran back to what was familiar ground. Call me a coward. I couldn’t help it. I knew that’s where she and the dogs must live, but crossing the street and going where I’d never been was too horrifying to contemplate.

Then one day I missed them somehow. They didn’t come. Then I missed another day. What would happen if they never came back? I would never be a part of their family. That scared me – even more than the street. I knew I would have to find my courage and strength before it was too late.

I was overjoyed when I saw them next. I pranced alongside like they were already my family. Then we got to the street. I felt the horrible fear rise up inside me. I wanted to run back to what was familiar.

But I wanted my new family more.

The woman seemed to read my mind. She kept coaxing me, bending down to pet me, and finally, after crossing the street with the dogs, she turned back to me. Called out, “Here kitty, kitty. Come here, kitty.”

I kept my gaze on her, needing to trust that she wouldn’t let anything happen to me.

Then I dashed across. Her voice sounded so happy. She and the dogs kept going around and between the townhomes, making sure I was following. Her voice stayed steady and calming. When we came to her house, she opened the gate and let the dogs inside. When she took them in the house, I panicked again. I jumped over the fence so I wouldn’t be left out there alone, but I was in another patio. The wrong patio. I had jumped over the wrong fence. I curled in a corner, terrified.

She was outside then and tried the gate to get where I was. It wouldn’t open. Then she came to the fence that separated the patios. There was a tree on both patios. Somehow she coaxed me up the tree until I was within reach of her.

“Come on, Emma. You can do it,” she said.

She had given me a name!

Somehow that gave me the courage to jump. I landed right in her arms.

My lady kept murmuring soft words until I stopped shaking. And then she brought me inside her house. Both dogs came up to me, sniffing me all over to make sure I was all right.

“You’re safe now, my beautiful, sleek Emma,” she said. “You’re home now. You don’t ever have to go outside again.”

Before I had a chance to digest her words, she set me down and put food and water in front of me. I didn’t realized until then how hungry I was. Food had sometimes appeared on doorsteps in the neighborhood, but not often enough.

After I ate, I met new friends. Smokey and Sabrina came up to me and sniffed, but didn’t spit. I wondered where she found them. I didn’t recognize either of them from the neighborhood. Before they could tell me their story, I was shone a comfortable bed and soon felt sleepy, tummy full and warm. The lady’s words came back to me as I curled up.

I was home. I was never going outside again.

Thursday, August 8, 2019

CAT FAMILY - SMOKEY


SMOKEY

I was supposed to be going to school with my human. That’s what I think he told me when we got into his car. He sat me on his lap and then the car moved us down the street. That was scary enough. The last time I remembered riding with him was when he found me and took me home. 

He kept mumbling words I didn't understand but gave me a bad feeling. He turned the car into a place with lots of other cars and stopped between two. I didn't hear the car sound after that. Then he grabbed me and we were outside. We faced a large building. I thought it must be the school.

We weren't alone. Others humans were getting out of their cars. I tried to burrow into my human's jacket. 

But I didn't expect what happened next.

He set me down, mumbled some more then turned and left. Seconds later he disappeared in the crowd. More feet rushed past me. One almost stepped on me and I ran under the car. 

I waited until all got quiet. When I peeked out, I didn't see anyone. The big building had gobbled them up.

Dazed and scared, I looked around. He didn’t even say goodbye.

Then I knew what he had tried to tell me. He couldn't keep me, and he couldn't take me inside with him.

But no! That's wrong. He had to come back for me. I had to believe that. He took me off the street after Mama left. He held me against him and fed me from a small bottle with a nipple. The milk almost tasted like Mama's. My tummy felt just as good. I felt loved and safe.

Who was going to feed me now? Who would love me?

After what seemed a long time, the ground started burning my feet. My body shivered even with the heat wrapped around me. I crept under another car to wait.

What did I do wrong? Doesn’t he know I’m still a baby? His eyes and his words made me feel sad. I’ll be good. Promise.

The sun moved again and the air got quiet. A few humans came out of the building and went to their cars. My human wasn't among them. After they were gone, I tucked my feet under me and dozed off again. When I awoke my stomach felt empty and my mouth dry. I ventured out to look for what I could find. I nibbled on some grass and drank from a puddle.

While I lapped up water, a shadow fell over me. I peered up. A new human. This one was older than the others. Older than my human. The man bent down and put out his hand for me to sniff. Good vibes. He scratched my head. I couldn’t help but purr.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Did you run away? Or did someone stupid drop you off?”

I purred some more, tried to tell him I needed to find home. I rubbed against his knee and pushed my face into his hand.

“Ahhh,” he said. “You poor boy. What am I going to do? I can’t just leave you  here.” 

To my joy, he scooped me up in his arms. He strode over to a car, opened the door and we got in. I huddled close to him as we moved out to the street. The next thing I knew we were getting out of the car. I dug my claws into his jacket and hung on. He wasn't going to drop me on the street if I had something to do about it.

I worried over nothing. He brought me to a house, opened a door and carried me inside. The room was cool and quiet and dark. He brought me a bowl of water, which I lapped up thirstily. I looked around. I was ready to explore.

Another human came into the room. A woman. Next to her ran a little black kitten. They both stopped and stared at me.

The man spoke, but I didn’t pay attention. I checked out my new surroundings. Everything smelled good. The woman bent down and picked me up. She examined me, felt my paws, which were the biggest part of me, and set me down again.

“You’re going to be big,” she said to me.

Whatever that meant. Guess it was good because she brought me and the black kitten some food. I scarfed it down. I never ate anything so good in my life.

“He’s the color of smoke,” the man said. “ Smokey?”

“That’s a good name for him,” She picked up the black kitten. “Sabrina, say hello to your new friend, Smokey.”

Sabrina and I touched noses. She was  female and smaller than me. I meowed a hello. Sabrina hissed. Tossed her head and pranced by me. I followed. We were going to be friends.

I hadn’t seen the dogs yet.

Tuesday, July 2, 2019

CAT FAMILY - SABRINA


SABRINA

I did not kill the rat.
My brothers and sisters think I’m the guilty one. I don’t like rats. They scare me. They got big teeth. Only this time the rat was missing his head. I tell my siblings it had to be Big Max who killed the rat. Big Max is twice my size. He’s yellow and can be mean. Really, they don’t call him the Mouser for nothing. But he’s not all bad. He sometimes protects me from dogs and other dangers. I guess because I’m the smallest of what’s left of our family.
I don’t know what happened to Mama. After we couldn’t get more milk from her, she wandered off and left us with the big machines. Big Max says they are cars and we better not get in the way of their wheels. The cars come and go, but we pretty much stay there, because where else would we go?
Because I am curious, I notice things. Like, for instance, the cars bring people to the building with the morning sun. People leave in them with the sun goes down.  Sometimes one of the humans will stop to look at me and my brothers and sisters. But mostly they just ignore us. Big Max makes us stay away from them. He’s so mean. Whenever I want to run up to a human, Big Max stops me.
On the other side of us are different buildings but the people who live there are the same ones I see every day. They don’t bother us. The little humans—Big Max calls them children—are fun. They sit and play with us on the sidewalk or on the grass. Their hands feel good when they pet me. They bring food sometimes. I hurry and eat what I can before Big Max shows up and gobbles it all. I get so hungry sometimes and it’s hard to find food and water.


When it gets dark and cold, I huddle up with my brothers and sisters. When the humans arrive to get their cars, I stare at them the longest. Big Max hisses at me and swats with his paw when I venture too close. But I’m curious. Where do they come from? Where do they go? Their eyes look toward us, but don’t seem to see us. Big Max says I shouldn’t try to make friends with humans. He’s so bossy, and I know he killed that rat. Finally, I give up and run back to the others and we hide until all the cars are gone. As I curl up, I wonder what else is out there that I can’t see.
Then one day, when there’s almost no cars around, a human appears. She is carrying a box. I stare at her while she puts the box in the car. Instead of getting inside, she turns her head and sees me. She has the nicest face with her lips wide and turned up. She’s smiling. Like the children I play with. But different. She’s smiling at me. Nowhere else.
I can’t help myself. I don’t feel at all afraid. I run to her! She has music in her voice and she bends down so her face is close to mine. She reaches out and strokes me. I’m in heaven! I love her!
Then she stands and her face gets all sad and she shakes her head. I don’t move, but I feel hope leaving me. She gets into her car. No! Wait! Take me with you! Come back!
The garage is empty now. Big Max circles me like he’s the lion king. “Told you so.” He thinks he’s so smart. I turn my tail to him and return to my brothers and sisters.
I can’t stop thinking about her. Day after day I wait and watch. Big Max laughs at me, but I know she’s coming back. I just feel it in my little bones to the tip of my black tail.
I’m right! I’m right! It’s her car. She getting out. But I wait this time. I watch from the side. I’m not sure anymore. Will she drive away without seeing me? Or worse, she’ll see me and still turn away.
She faces in my direction, not seeing me, I think, but making sounds like she’s calling out. Hardly daring to breathe, I hop on top of the car next to me. I’m easy to find this way. I sit there and watch her.
She sees me! Her face gets all shiny and bright and she leans down and opens her arms. She calls out, “Here kitty! Come here, kitty!”
I can’t help it. I leap off the car and I race to her. Her car door is open. I’m not taking any chances. I jump in. She laughs and climbs in beside me and closes the door. I’m so happy I could burst.
As we drive away, I look out the window. There’s Big Max watching. He’s got something in his mouth. Probably another rat. But I swear he’s grinning at me.

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

A Matter of Revenge

A Matter of Revenge launched on January 21, 2017 at Murder By The Book. We are appearing at The Book Scene on Saturday, February 25, 2017 at 1:00 p.m.

All the Niki Alexander books feature teens who can be found living on the street or in shelters. Sometimes they are running from a scary home. More often they have been neglected or abandoned.

In Less Dead, sixteen-year-old Jade has been abandoned. First her mother died, then her father left on the street corner in the Montrose area of Houston.and never returned.

In Lost Witness,a small lost boy is found next to the body of a drug mule and becomes the center of a drug ring fight between two brothers, one in Houston and his sibling in Mexico. Once again Niki Alexander becomes involved in the feud to find answers that will save the child.

In a Matter of Revenge a young pre-teen takes it upon himself to expose a wealthy businessman as a pornographer and pedophile. Desperate to find his friend, a possible victim, who has disappeared, he accepts assistance from the eleven-year-old runaway Niki Alexander has been asked to find.

In all three books, Niki never hesitates to protect and help these kids. After partnering with a homicide detective for several years, she was caught in an office-involved shooting of a seventeen-year-old. She quit to become a counselor at Open Palms, a shelter for teen runaways, throwaways and delinquents. Niki makes it her life's work to prevent another unnecessarily death of a child.

Thursday, October 27, 2016

A Third Niki Alexander Mystery Coming Soon

Niki Alexander will soon make an appearance in her third mystery, A Matter of Revenge

This book follows Less Dead and Lost Witness. 


As a woman who used to be a street cop, Niki's instincts for finding the lost and abandoned children on the Houston streets is only sharpened after she quit to become a counselor for a teen shelter. Quitting anything is never easy for Niki, but especially hard to turn her back on the career she loved. Only the aftermath of a officer-involved shooting of a seventeen-year-old boy, crazed by drugs, could knock her to her knees. She got up to fight again but nothing was ever the same, and the nightmare of pulling the trigger still visits her. She vowed never to walk away from another troubled child and to do all she could to prevent that happening again.  

I realized, after I finished writing A Matter of Revenge, that a theme had developed in each of these books. In Less Dead  abandonment was the central theme. In Lost Witness it was drugs, families and borders.

In A Matter of Revenge, the refusal to be a victim emerges. Niki is astounded to find two pre-teens daring to expose a wealthy sexual predator by burglarizing his home.  She steps in to assist them in their fight for justice and relief. . 

Assisting Niki is Nelson Spalonetti, the cop who now worked with her ex-partner. They met first in Less Dead and became lovers in Lost Witness. They both get a jolt when someone from Niki's past shows up in A Matter of Revenge. Seventeen years is a long time to be out of touch with family, even for a step-mother whose divorce from Niki's Hawaiian father had not been civil. Niki doesn't buy the coincidence of the woman's timing. Did she come to reunite with her stepdaughter, or is she there for another purpose altogether?.

A Matter of Revenge will  be out in e-book and print editions on January 28, 2017 and will be available wherever books are sold. In the meantime you can catch up on the first two Niki Alexander books.

Here are the Amazon buy links:

LESS DEAD

https://www.amazon.com/Less-Dead-Niki-Alexander-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B009ZURM70/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1477598429&sr=8-3&keywords=Less+Dead  

LOST WITNESS 

https://www.amazon.com/Lost-Witness-Niki-Alexander-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B00ACOGFOE/ref=sr_1_16?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1477598973&sr=1-16&keywords=lost+witness&refinements=p_n_feature_browse-bin%3A618073011