• Clogs and Gold Lame Tube Tops by Christina Wheeler

    Before I attended Catholic school I grew up with MTV. I headbanged and threw up the devil horns like a heathen child in my crib when Cum on Feel the Noize came on. I loved Ozzy. I couldn’t help it. My parents were barely twenty when they had me. My mother would wear tube tops with no bra, the cotton barely hiding the shape of her nipples. A sight I would grow to become uncomfortable with by the time I was ten. Her shiny blue eye shadow matched the glint of the metal of her power wheelchair and, if she was moving at her top speed of eight miles an…

  • Bill at the Bible Study By Dave Engel

    Bill walks up to the door and presses the doorbell. The doorbell says, “Ding dong,” and ushers in our hostess. Oh Karen, her little Bible Study. The diligently prepared desserts and Columbian coffees. Oh how she loves to play grown-up and entertain a host of… ding dong, time to fetch the door! So in comes Bill to be greeted by a group of grasping hands, all teeth and gums with welcomes to share. Bill’s eyes slide down to the super-fashionable, ultra-religious, “Jesus” bracelets that loudly ask a question meant to probe one’s heart. And yet this marketable statement of faith somehow doesn’t probe Bill, he’s just left wondering if the…

  • Coming Down The Mountain, Excerpt from the forthcoming book, THE HERMIT by Gabriel Roberts

    My poor bike was covered in ice for days on end and it took some time for it to warm up.  I had moved it before the first snow into a shelter that was being used to dry out the weed.  Before I could even get to the road, I would have to travel three quarters of a mile through foot deep untouched snow up a hill.  Trying to do this with my motorcycle alone, packed with a fully loaded bike and 50 lb backpack was simply impossible.  My boss pulled their quad up to my bike and wrapped a car towing strap around the front forks of my bike. …

  • Times-bestselling author of The Lunar Chronicles and T-Town Local, Marissa Meyer.

    Following is the (entirely untouched) prologue from the very first novel I ever attempted to write, begun when I was sixteen years old and sitting on the bleachers in gym class. It was basketball day. So odd the things you remember. Though in reading it fourteen years later there are about a million “beginner’s mistakes” I can point out – things that would make me cringe in my writing today – I actually found revisiting this story to be surprisingly refreshing. Even now I can remember how much I loved this world and these characters that I was beginning to create. Though I’d been writing fanfiction for about two years…