Tag: horror

Jazz with Ella

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Excerpt

Just as they had spent that first evening on the street, Jennifer and Volodya spent the next afternoon mostly on the street, in the peculiar privacy that Soviets find in large crowds. She bought him cognac and cigarettes at Beryozka the foreign currency souvenir store. He bought her Russian language books, stories of the city, and corrected her sentences. She showed him her contact lenses and how they worked. He marvelled. Such things were unheard of in the Soviet Union, he told her, but he had seen some Japanese tourists use them. That night Jennifer returned to the hotel, Volodya to his home.
The next day as they were passing the Hotel Europe, another accommodation reserved solely for visitors from the west, he grabbed her hand, glanced around to see if they were being followed and walked into the lobby, saying in English, “I want to show you something. Go along with me to the restaurant.” They strolled to the elegant restaurant portal and waited in the foyer. There was no one in sight.
“Hey, if you’re pretending to be an American, you’re holding your cigarette all wrong,” she whispered. “Don’t curl it under your hand. Just let it sit between your fingers. Like so.” She surreptitiously straightened his fingers, rearranging the cigarette. He grinned at her. She felt the warmth of the smile and let her hand linger on his.
“Thank you,” he said in English. “Now look over at that table under the light. I will not point. You see?” Jennifer peered. “See the centre arrangement? That is a microphone—how they listen. Only the ones with that arrangement—and some of the others there, that table and that one.”
Jennifer stared but couldn’t see the difference in the various tables.
“How do you know?”

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763246

The Circle

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Excerpt

“Are you okay? You look like something is bothering you.”
“Hakim, do you ever think about home? Do you miss home?”
“Yeah, I think about home, why?”
“For a long time now I’ve been having these dreams. I’m losing sleep because
of nightmares.”
Hakim’s eyes get cloudy while he browns the prawns in a pan. He turns and
looks deeply into Talal’s eyes and asks, “Why do you have nightmares? What
kind of nightmares?”
“Things from back home in Falluja, the war, the destruction,
things like that. I have nightmares about my parents when they died in front of
our house, their bodies badly burned. I see them in my dreams all the time.”
Hakim becomes agitated when he hears Talal’s description of his dead
parents. He finishes cooking the prawns and checks the rice in the cooker; it will
be ready in a few minutes. He knows very well about nightmares—he has his
share of them. He has had his own nightmares for a long time now, and hasn’t
said anything to anybody, not yet. Not even to Talal, who opens the discussion
about nightmares as if they were his monopoly. He knows too well the
devastating images from home, during those dark days of the war. He has seen
himself under the rubble of his house, covered by pieces of cement blocks and
broken furniture, the night when the American bombs fell from the sky like lava
from heaven and destroyed most of Baghdad. He takes his wine glass and raises it
to Talal’s glass.
“Don’t worry, bro. Don’t let these nightmares control your life. Here’s to
you!”
Talal doesn’t answer. Instead, he goes to the fridge and takes out the lettuce
for the salad. He starts to cut the lettuce, “I see the images of my parents over and
over in my head, as if they are in front of me, like the day it happened.”
“Tell me how your parents died, Talal.”
“It was that offensive; I think it was 2004, at the beginning of the war, when
the Americans fought against Falluja, against what they used to call insurgents.
Do you remember?”
“Yeah, those were the days of hell. I remember well. I was with Uncle Ibrahim
during that time. By then, our house was already destroyed.”
“Well, in our case the Americans tried white phosphorous against the
insurgents. They used chemicals that burned the bodies like fire. That is how my
parents died, because they didn’t leave their house. So much damage was done to
the people who stayed behind instead of leaving as they were advised to. People’s
flesh got burned up right on the spot. That’s how my mom and dad died. We
were a couple of kilometers away at my grandfather’s house,

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0978186524

Jazz With Ella

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Excerpt

They sneered like rival dogs and bared their teeth. She could not catch their mumbled conversation. Abruptly the current was broken. Volodya leaned back in his chair, innocent, fresh-faced. The newcomer looked over his shoulder repeatedly as if someone might see him in this den of decadence.
“Dance with him,” Volodya ordered her.
Surprised, she stared. The stranger’s fingers were already on her wrist. He opened his mouth in a grin, revealing several black teeth and a large gap in his smile. His breath smelled like sour milk. Dance. Just a two step. One-two, one-two, and back again. Twirl. He pulled her around the dance floor, breathing heavily, then closer, tighter, until his belt buckle pressed uncomfortably in her abdomen. She pretended not to understand his language when he spoke to her. “Krasavitsa, beautiful woman,” he said.
Just smile and twirl, she thought.
When the music ended, he returned her to the table. Volodya’s eyes were on her. Thank you, they told her. The man sat with them, uninvited. There was more vodka, toasts to Soviet-Canadian friendship—this from Black-Teeth. A toast to Jennifer, the beautiful, amazing woman from Canada! This wish was from Volodya and a slobbering drunk from the next table who smiled an elastic grin. More dancing. This time with Volodya. Black-Teeth left without saying goodbye.
Then someone was suggesting a toast to the cosmonauts, another was toasting his mother, another cheered a black-eyed seductress called Masha, who was not present to hear her toast.
Someone passed a bottle of vodka up to the band. The musicians handed it around, took swigs, became more animated. The ugly bass player took four steps to the front of the stage, four steps back and the piano player flashed spasmodic smiles in between frowns of concentration. The band broke loose on a popular modern song; the crowd roared approval. Only the waiters were unsmiling, weary.
In a brief, lucid moment between drinks, Jennifer looked around her in surprise. She had been in the Soviet Union what?—eight, nine days? “It’s all part of the Russian experience,” she murmured. Then there were more stomach-turning toasts, the pungent sweat of bodies that shared bathrooms, the rigid motions of the jazz band. Volodya and Jennifer laughed, danced. By the time they left, bursting into the street, it was empty of people. His arm rested lightly on the back of her waist. She knew they would make love that night.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763246

The Circle

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excerpt

He leans closer again and kisses her cheek. She glows all over, being there,
next to him, and he stops pestering her about her indiscretion.
Their drinks are served and Talal turns closer to Hakim and asks, “You like
Helena?”
“Of course, Helena is beautiful.”
“I know she’s a beautiful girl, Hakim.”
They spend a couple of hours at the club. Peter and Rose feel tired and decide
to go home. Talal is dancing with Helena. Jennifer has had two drinks and feels a
bit tipsy, however Hakim gets her up to dance for the last time before they all go
home. She holds him tightly as they dance. Feeling his firmness on her leg, she
lifts her head and looks at him, smiling. There are so many people crowded
around them; however, she gets gutsy and puts her hand on his pants, slowly
rubbing him as they dance. Talal catches them as he turns his head, and he
flashes a smile at Hakim. Hakim smiles back at Talal.
Hakim asks Jennifer, “Are you ready to go now, my love?”
Later on, outside the Double Cherry Club, they all say goodnight to Anthony.
They say farewell to each other and walk to their separate cars.
Hakim and Jennifer take a short ride around L.A., enjoying the cool
September night. She is still a little dizzy when they arrive at his apartment. He
helps her walk to the elevator, and she leans on him with the security a child
needs from an adult. They go to bed; Jennifer, as she promised earlier in the day,
is all over him. Hakim enjoys the attention and they make passionate love.
The scare of AIDS fromsome twenty years earlier has somehow been put aside,
although a cure still hasn’t been found. Science has produced so many different
types of drugs during the past ten years that AIDS is now treatable and many of the
afflicted lead fairly normal lives.On the other hand, the younger generation tends to
abstain from sleeping around as did in the years before the AIDS, and most practice
safe sex.Most young people prefer to have just one girlfriend or boyfriend after their
high-school years and later on, many end up marrying.
As the night passes slowly Hakim and Jennifer fall asleep.
Hakim wakes up first as the light comes through the curtains of the east
window; it is a clear day and the sun brightens up the room. He looks at his
phone, it’s ten o’clock. He gets up, takes a quick shower, brushes his teeth, and
stretches. Hakim looks at Jennifer as she sleeps. He remembers the last drink and
smiles at the thought of last night. Her back is uncovered as the comforter is
pushed to the side. He marvels at the sensuous way she is spread on the bed in
front of him and finds himself excited. He slips into the bed and pulls the covers
over them; cuddles close and embraces her. She feels him behind her and moves
her torso against his body.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B006PY87YQ

Water in the Wilderness

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Excerpt

more of her attention than she felt she could give.
Calls for bedpans from several of her elderly female patients were usually taken care of by the nurses’ aide, but Martha Schultz was needed on the Maternity wing tonight to help bathe and feed the newborns in the overflowing nursery. Shirley McQuire, the R.N. on that ward, had not even had time to pop round to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.
There’s no doubt about it, Tyne thought as she settled at the charting desk, there are nights when we need more help. But then, how did a person predict how busy the hospital was going to be on any shift? Director of Nurses, Inge Larson, could not bring people in to work on speculation only.
Tyne sighed, pushed a stray auburn curl under her nurses’ cap, and picked up her pen. At least Lydia appeared to have settled down following the back rub. But that thought brought another sigh. Tyne had not yet decided how she was going to keep her promise to Lydia to have the children cared for. In fact, until now, she had not found a minute to think about it. What could she tell Lydia before she went off duty at eight o’clock? The only thing clear to Tyne was that something had to be done, and soon.
She removed a chart from the rack in front of her and opened it to the page of nurses’ notes. She had time only to record, in red ink, the demerol she had administrated to the man who had undergone surgery for a ruptured appendix, when she heard the wail of a siren followed by the crunch of wheels on gravel at the emergency entrance. Tyne looked up. Lights from an approaching vehicle shone briefly through the windows of the double doors as the vehicle made a hurried turn, then backed up to the entrance.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/192676319X