We all know the wonders of reading, but reading to live audience is really fun. Here are some pictures from the Young Adventurers reading last week with Austin Camacho.
I had a great time reading WOLF DAWN. The Q & A was a blast as well, despite being a bit nervous. 
What do you think of my Kara costume? 
I think I came pretty close to the description in the book although I did a few minor adaptations for general public display.
I also left Kara’s hunting knives at home.
A wonderful collection of stories by eighteen talented authors.
Living in a post-pandemic world isn’t easy, especially if you can’t remember your past. Sixteen year old Kara returns to the human world after living with wolves for eight years, in A. L. Kaplan’s “Wolf Dawn.”
A L Kaplan is the readers’ choice in this week’s Indies Unlimited Flash Fiction Challenge.
I backed deeper into dad’s half-collapsed toolshed and prayed Augie would stop counting long enough to turn around. My body screamed for oxygen, but my asthmatic lungs refused to comply. The man stepped with me, keeping the pistol inches from my head. Blood oozed from a gash across his neck. Bright and red, just like the blood on the bag of money Augie and I found on the tracks. I knew we should have left it, but money was tight and that bag had a lot of it.
“Ain’t nobody coming after this money, Wyatt,” said Augie. “There’s way too much blood.”
A crooked grin split the man’s face. “I guess my name is Ain’t Nobody, kid.” His raspy voice sounded like the chain smoking guy at the station.
Augie’s voice shook. “Please don’t hurt my brother, mister. Take the money. We won’t tell. I swear.”
A flicker of sadness crossed the man’s face. “Just pack it up.” He pulled out a bottle. “Slow breaths, Wyatt. Drink this.”
I swallowed the liquid he poured into my mouth without thinking. It burned my throat, but by the time Augie packed up all the cash, my molasses filled lungs had cleared. The man took the bloodstained bag from Augie and tossed a thick wad of twenties on the ground.
“For your troubles.” He tousled my hair and smiled. “Slow easy breaths and a shot of whiskey, Wyatt. Worked for my brother every time. Remember, if anyone asks, Ain’t Nobody been here.”
Suppose you saw something you couldn’t explain. And then suppose it turned out to be something far stranger, or funnier, or more horrifying than you ever expected. That element of surprise, and a different way of looking at things, is what this anthology is all about. Most of the short stories take less than fifteen minutes to read, and the ultra-short drabbles take less than thirty seconds.
Kathy Steinemann, Amber Hayward, A. L. Kaplan, and Donna Milward, share their tales and fantasies in this book of drabbles, flash fiction, and short stories. The foreword is provided by Barbara Galler-Smith.
Why would the government force an artist to paint portraits of despots or drug lords? Why would healthy people die for no obvious reason? Do you suppose that wishes could ever be dangerous? What’s a BioInterFace Fluxxatron? Do aliens watch reality shows? Why would someone pay double the usual rate to move a heavy trunk? Why is the mud from Sludge Flats so valuable?
Discover the answers to these questions in this collection.
“Suppose” is available at several online retailers.
Flies swarmed the carcass and I cursed. This was the tenth heifer that had been ripped to shreds. A low rumbling growl made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I spun away from the remains and came face to face with Fang. His lips curled back, teeth gleaming. Five other coyotes circled the carcass. What devil drove these beasts to confront a human in broad daylight? And since when did coyotes hunt in packs?
Fang glared with an almost human hatred. I raised my gun, shaking so hard the shot went wild. The coyotes didn’t flinch. Gramps thought the wild horses were a problem, thought they would ruin the field and contaminate our cattle. At least horses didn’t kill. I fumbled to reload, dropping a cartridge. Fang leaped before I could raise the weapon. I stumbled back, tripping over the carcass. Sixteen was too young to die.
Something flew over my head, crashing into Fang. Dominator, the chestnut stallion that led the wild horses, trumpeted his challenge. A strange reddish hue glimmered in Dominator’s eyes and the white patch on his head shone like some weird third eye. His sharp hooves made short work of Fang and the other crazed coyotes, trampling even those who tried to flee. Was this the same bold colt I had spotted only two years ago? I stared in wonder, thankful to be in his favor. Dominator seemed to nod once with an eerie intelligence. Then he trotted off.
“I’ve been here, but when?”
There’s no one to answer my question but the gurgling brook and the birds singing in the trees. Only my empty memories keep me company. It could have been days or even years since I passed this way last. It looks so peaceful, yet that tree leaning over the water fills me with dread.
Visions swirl through my mind and I feel the world begin to sway. I have to look under the tree, under the pine boughs and moss. I wade into the water, feeling the slippery stones beneath my bare feet. My hands shake and I rub them on my ragged pants as I go, ignoring the icy chill that isn’t from the water.
Webs part as I push my hand into the dry hole, trying not to think about what might be lurking in the dark hollow. Shivers run down my back as my hand touches something cold and hard. Smooth sides and sharp edges greet my dirty fingers.
Holding my breath, I pull the object out of its hiding place and am nearly blinded by the red light that gleams off its surface from a stray sunbeam. I stagger back and fall into the water, barely keeping my grip on the fist-sized stone. My head throbs with remembered pain. I touch the scar on my head. It runs deep into my heart. Tears stream down my face.
They hid this here.
Before they shot…
Everyone.
Even each other.
For a rock.
Kara tightened the cord holding her parka hood closed and retrieved the knives lying on the hardened snow. Cramps gnawed at her legs as she crouched, but she kept her vigil, carefully scanning the icy landscape, as still as stone. The sound of drumming feet reached her ears, growing louder as the elk ran over the rise, pursued by three silver furred wolves. Mist exploded from the elk’s mouth with each step, sides heaving with fatigue and eyes wide with terror. The elk tried to turn, but the lone female of the pack charged and snapped until the elk returned to its original path.
Heart hammering with nervous excitement, Kara remained frozen in place as the five hundred pound cow drew near. One strike from its massive feet could kill her or the wolves. It was risky for their small pack to hunt an animal this large, especially with an untried pup that had dull fangs and only two legs. But they needed meat and this was the only game for miles.
The two lead wolves struck the elk simultaneously, causing it to rear up almost on top of Kara. Flush with the fervor of the hunt, Kara sprang from her hiding place and sunk her blades into the elk’s neck, only barely missing the thrashing animal’s deadly feet. She leaped back in triumph as the elk sank to the ground. Finally, she had proved herself more than a mere puppy.