Rivals
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Samuel Dunleavy and Nicholas Gubbins were friends and rivals. They had been since they were small boys. I had been a long time.

The truth is that it was this rivalry that had made them successful. What they lacked in basic intelligence they made up for with tenacity, and that was driven by they desire to outdo one another.

Patsy Power Part 7

What else could I do but play the half minute advert again. While it was playing I looked around the small group. The mechanics were all smiling, as was the admin staff; the sales staff were clearly waiting on Peter as they were the ones that dealt with him every day. His wife and daughters were trying hard to suppress giggles and a guy I had not met before; in a jacket and tie that screamed ‘manufacturer’s rep’ looked positively stunned.

Patsy Power Part 5

We made our way up onto the stage and took our microphones. I walked to the front and spoke to the crowd. “Thank you for allowing us to sing for you tonight. We are part of a band that is in town to launch our debut album. I am sure that if you like our singing Simon or his staff, on that big table, will be able to tell you where and when you can purchase it.

John Tucker is the kind of jock who is looking to run up the score on sexual conquest with the help of his good friend and wingman, Scott. Skeptical to his charms, Kate desires to expose and take him down but nothing is as it seems.

The Forensic Accountant
Inspired by this Captioned Image
By Maryanne Peters

Lee's friend has just come out as being transgender. Lee isn't sure how to deal with this, or how to express how he feels. His father helps him sort through both.

Patsy Power Part 3

So that was what we did. The ladies were very gracious and took us to a few very good clothing stores and quickly got into the groove of our trying on and selecting; finally, we had a number of bags which our hosts put in a cab to be taken to the Hotel and then took us to a lovely little Italian Restaurant which reminded us of Marios.

The Wager
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

“Are you proposing a wager?” Professor Harrison Hunt smiled mischievously at his colleague. The tall, sinewy academic leaned against the bookcase in his old fashioned study.

“I would be happy to take your money, Harry,” responded Professor Michael Danes. “It is a bold claim for somebody with my knowledge in the field.”

Patsy Power Part 1

I made myself at home again, getting myself a cup of coffee then putting my feet up for a little while. I then went up to my room and stripped off to look at myself in the big mirror. My breasts were, to my mind, magnificent and when I turned sideways I thought that my new butt was going to make me get more clothes.

Gypsy Healing
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

“Before I answer your question, I must tell you that I am not a religious person, and I do not believe in miracles,” said Dr Solander. “But spontaneous remission is a fact. It does happen. It happens rarely, but it does happen. Even without treatment, cancers can disappear.”

“But that is exactly what I am asking,” said Emmet. “How can it happen? Can there be some external influence? I am like you – not at all religious. I am looking for a rational explanation.”

Rear Window
By Maryanne Peters (with help from Sydney Michelle)

The Return Trip

The following weeks flew by and my days and nights were pretty well set. Into Madrid in the morning, back via the abattoir and dairy, dropping off the empty churns; unloading the next days’ goods then cleaning out the van.

The Center
Inspired by a Captioned Image
By Maryanne Peters

Lee was my youngest son. A bit of an afterthought. My two older sons were in high school when he was born. My wife suffered after the pregnancy and by the time Lee started school, she was dead.

I suppose that I saw my wife in my youngest child. But then Lee became more and more like her.

Miss Aisle

When you meet the right woman, she’s may well be a Missile aiming for Miss Aisle. And as she walks towards the Groom, she’ll be remembering the sequence ‘Aisle, Altar, Hymn. So what if the congregation hears ' I’ll Alter Him'. You have a choice? One anagram of Evil is Vile – but one can Live again. I'm glad Jane & I got through it.

** Going offline for a week or so while my computer is in drydock. Thanks AP
V sorry - there was a typo even in the heading!!! I hate it when others do that.

Addiction
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

“Of course I respect you and your studies,” began Dr Julius Zelig, “But what you are suggesting is contrary to my research and all accepted understanding of this issue.”

“I don’t deny it,” said Dr Gordon Halsey, “But I tell you I have isolated the neurochemical.”

This a very old story I did

Chapter one;

Miss Trust

If I’m not what I thought ….. what AM I? Who can I trust for advice? Maybe it’s Serendipity?

 
A story inspired by Erin's Hired Girl...

 
“Miss Pink? Miss Pink?” my boss called from the inner office.

Part Three. A ‘Normal’ Life?

We have just started our weekly game show binge, another of her favourites. You may think that I sound henpecked but having her diverted means that I can think for myself for a while.

Of course, having just one pair of eyes, that means that I had to set up this remote method of writing. My computer is next to the settee and I have put a long lead on the keyboard so I can write while we sit with her concentrating on the screen. Now, back to the second day of my – I was going to say nightmare, but it is really just different…..

Frontier Bride
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

If it were not for the disturbances that I had caused, and the trouble thus delivered upon me, I would not have gone West. I was a young man who favored the gentle life, though I could not afford it. I was certainly not ready for the challenge of hard work, it having been avoid assiduously for the first 27 years of my life. But needs must, and I was in need of escape.

A Country Girl Again

Friday morning dawned, as it usually did, and we had breakfast at the Vegaviana. We were all happy at having another two weeks behind us and the girls were very interested in my deputy. I told them that I had helped him sort out some internal problems and that he was a deputy for our electorate at the farm, so could be a help when it came to any problems we could have. I told them to make sure they kept his visits secret.