A Horror Fantasy “You’ve gotta eat ’em to get rid of ‘em.” 🎵 “When did your parents get that big pool?” I asked Lyra as we took turns tapping the croquet ball. We weren’t really playing the game — just letting the ball roll around her back porch. “I never noticed it was…

The Story Behind the Song — You’re not a doormat, you’re an alley cat! The Story I’ve written before about how I was never comfortable with my lyrics and had been looking for a lyricist to collaborate with me soon after I moved to the Los Angeles area from San Diego back in the ’80s. (See “Into the…

The Story Behind the Song — We plot and we scheme to recover our stolen dream… The Story Soon after I moved to the Los Angeles area from San Diego back in the ’80s, I went on a quest to find a lyricist collaborator — the Bernie Taupin to my Elton John, so to speak. It’s not that…

Her words couldn’t escape her mouth. They didn’t linger in the air. It was as if they were receding back into her. “Who’s there?” She opened the front door to let him in. He was heaving almost uncontrollably after this morning’s run. Even Buddy wasn’t panting as hard — tongue…

Its headlights opened like two blue, beady eyes — anticipating the excitement of its first real meal. The chase was on — winding through, between, above, and below the clouds. Today’s weather report called for fair skies, but that didn’t mean those fluffy cirrus clouds would stay away. It was…

The Story Behind the Song — In the final hour, they will steal your power … The Story In the early 2000s, I received a “Ghostly Carousel” collectible (part of Department 56’s Halloween Snow Village collection) as a gift from my brother. …

The office felt hermetically sealed — with smoke dancing around like a chorus of ballerinas pirouetting through the morning light. H e leaned back with his feet propped firmly on the newly polished mahogany desk. Behind him was a vast view of the Hollywood Hills through a series of windows…

The roots of the trees cut through the soil and surrounding sidewalk like the toes of some colossal creature. Not many people know this about me — but when I was a kid, I used to be a baton twirler … marching in parades with a band. The most…

I see a faint shape in the darkness. Its moving parts seem to have their own rhythm, yet they seem to belong together. I’m one of the lucky ones. All the other girls from high school are “happily” married — their homes brimming with kids, hot chocolate, Christmas parties…