Putting together a short story collection, finally, and then I'll return to novel and querying agents.
I have a two new short stories out--waiting.
Excerpt from Featherwing (tentative title for collection), even though sis says not a word, but it is kind of is a word, found it places, and it was a nickname my father used for my middle boy, Joe.
The story includes a few references to birds, too. (not sure why/how that happened)
“More pepper, Daddy.”
“Daisy wants more pepper?”
Robin watches as he leans in closer, kisses her cheek, tousles her curls with his free hand. She smiles and then brushes him away. The girl does not know how her father crawls into their bed at dawn, helps himself to her mother, just to absolve his conscience. But the boy suspects, she decides, because he believes he is like a fox and his senses are heightened, and his bedroom is across the hall, and he rarely talks anymore, and she can see it in his scorn and aloofness. She thinks of him like her pet, making sure he is fed and bathed. And even that is not always possible as he darts away when she approaches him.