Anymore — Leoshine, Princess Quarry may be the hardest book you read this year. Bad things happen. Trigger warnings are due. I spent the weekend with forty souls seeking to be vulnerable. We call them writers. It wasn’t group therapy, but sometimes I looked for the circle of chairs. Surrounded by these…

I went to bed for four days. — I ignored the computer. I looked at the phone screen but didn’t answer. I knew the care home was begging me to empty Mum’s room. I wondered if Gregori was calling to apologise for deserting me. But I had nothing left after crying all day and night. The memories were…

“Is she dead?” — Get caught up with the story here: Gas Infused Romance nmaccameron.medium.com I lifted my face from Gregori’s tear soaked shoulder. We both turned toward the figure in Mum’s doorway. She wore a cardigan over her shoulders but my eyes couldn’t focus. She rushed forward and in a too familiar voice gasped dramatically but insincerely…

Performers are people too. — I went to the opera last night. No one would say the town I live in is culturally intelligent, but we few who enjoy the fine arts are delighted to have an opera company. At the end of the performance I stood up to clap for the performers. The man…

The rigid fibers lacing his palms pulled on his swollen knuckles. — Doddle MacCrimmon rolled the quill with his first finger, back and forth on the crude table as far as the feathers allowed, and glowered at his apprentice’s frozen corpse. Wind howled around his hovel and snow skittered against the thatch above. The pain in his hands prevented him from picking…

So much history was passing out of the world. — Make sure you read the three episodes ahead of this installment: Gas Infused Romance nmaccameron.medium.com Gregori’s knock rattled through the silence between Mum’s breaths. I looked up from her still, frail face growing stiller and frailer by the moment. Outside the sun dappled through the leaves in the square. Old people sat on benches…

Mystery grows as felines invade — The smoldering coals in the bedroom fireplace warmed my toes before bed. I had everything I needed; writing desk covered in pens and pencils, a plot outline, intriguing characters talking to me on my journey here. …

From her coffin — Alexander Besterhussel, tycoon in milk bottle tops ignored the buzz coming from his wife’s open casket. The minister paused his benediction and glanced with bulging eyes at Alexander. Whispers and murmurs rose like escaping gas from the larger than expected congregation. It was just like her, Alexander thought. He could…

Compliment or Insult? — Do you like rereading books? What would inspire you to do that? There are so many books out there and more coming all the time. Do you fear you’ll miss out on a new book because you want to read a story a second time? I have favourites that I…