Fireside Theater
August 30, 2026 by Dianna Sinovic in category Quill and Moss by Dianna Sinovic, Writing tagged as firepit, romantic breakup, short fiction, writing
The flames danced in the fire pit, inviting Dulci to relax, but the drift of smoke rising into the night sky only darkened her mood. Cora, who knew her like any best friend should, was trying to help. But some things just hurt too bad.
“Tell me again what he did,” Cora prompted. “Aimee hasn’t heard.” She held up her glass of pinot noir as if inspecting it for the details Dulci was about to share.
Aimee, the third member of their friend trio, sat across the fire. For once, she was silent, staring at her own glass.
Dulci shifted in her seat. “I didn’t see it coming.”
“Obviously,” Cora said, but kindly. “You and Rad were the ideal we all looked up to. Two people ecstatically in love, forever.” She swirled her wine. “Paul and I were envious. Not that we’re drifting apart or anything. You made it look easy.”
“Six years,” Dulci said, staring at the flames. “And the bastard couldn’t even tell me to my face.” The smoke shifted abruptly toward her, bringing instant tears. “Just a text.” I’ve met someone else. As if their past happiness meant nothing. “I love him.” She sniffed, her head spinning from the alcohol. “I want him back, but I don’t know how to make that happen.”
“You won’t.” Aimee’s words stung like a slap. She added immediately, “I mean, once a guy’s decided to end it, he’s done with you. There’s no use trying to win him back.”
Cora leaned toward Dulci. “I know you’re suffering, but Aimee’s right.”
Aimee, single again after two sizzling marriages that ended in meltdowns.
“Would you even want him back, given how he fucking dumped you?”
Point taken. Revenge, then. Rad trussed up while Dulci flailed him with a whip. Rad in chains kept in a dungeon only she knew about. Rad aflame in the fire pit, begging her for mercy.
She smiled. “Thanks. Somehow I just need to move on. Easier said than done, though.”
Her phone buzzed. Rad?
Hey, babe. Ready to roll?
What was this? Her jerk of an ex’s attempt at gallows humor?
Almost immediately, Aimee’s phone buzzed. She looked up at Dulci, her panicked gaze registering the truth for Dulci. The message hadn’t been meant for her.
“You?” she said, rising from her chair. “You’re the one?”
Cora grabbed Dulci in a firm embrace to stop her from sprinting around the pit. Their dropped wine glasses shattered on the stones around the fire, and Aimee vanished into the darkness beyond them.
Dianna’s Books
Who needs Vegas? I rolled a Lucky 7 in the London Book Biz
August 11, 2026 by Jina Bacarr in category Jina’s Book Chat, Writing
When I was seven
Books were my heaven
Tales of princesses and fairies galore
I loved to read more and more
Then I wrote stories about women so brave and good
And lucky for me they found a home at Boldwood!
===============
Happy 7th Birthday to my fab publisher Boldwood Books!!
0 1 Read moreTry an Experiment by Kitty Bucholtz
August 9, 2026 by Kitty Bucholtz in category It's Worth It by Kitty Bucholtz, Writing tagged as It's Worth It, Kitty Bucholtz, life choices, menopause, Perimenopause, writing
I was listening to a podcast recently about confidence and the guest said she tries to look at everything in life as an experiment. Can she do it? Let’s give it a try. Did she fail? She found that it didn’t work that way. Did she succeed? She found that this worked. Listening to her, you could tell this was clearly a personality thing for her.
But it reminded me of choices that I’d forgotten. Between the stresses of nearly six decades on Earth and the personal hell perimenopause/menopause have made of my life the last several years, I’ve found myself with a mostly negative and scared attitude about life. This from someone who was called Pollyanna since I was a kid! Huge change. And it seemed like there was nothing at all I could do to stop this downward spiral. (Thanks, hormones.)
I’ve been waiting for the extra hormones I’m taking to even out my thinking and feelings and it seems to finally be working. (Aside from the worldwide estrogen shortage going on!)So when I heard this super cheerful woman talking about how everything is an experiment, I thought, I could try that. At least try it, that would be my first experiment.
It’s only been a week or two, but I think it’s helping me to feel calmer and less stressed overall. And it reminds me of another experiment I started doing a month or two ago that is helping me stay calmer even more — keeping my feelings in the now. Partially because of the hormone changes (and I can’t tell if it’s 50% or 90% or 100%), I’ve been suffering from a lot of anxiety and a fair amount of depression the last few years. But I’ve been remembering to try to bring my thoughts and feelings back to Now and ask myself how I feel right in this moment.
Not thinking about what’s “probably” going to happen in ten minutes or tomorrow or the scary thing I don’t know how to deal with that’s on my calendar for next Tuesday. Just right this second. And if right this second I’m happy because I’m eating a delicious meal my husband made or I woke up to realize I’d slept well or I have time to read five minutes of my favorite new book…then I savor that one moment of being happy and try to keep my thoughts from running into the future fears.
I mention these things because they have helped me as a person trying to survive and thrive in the world, but also as a creative writer who needs to figure out how to continue to be creative when my brain is struggling through the menopause process. For me, it’s working. And I hope the ideas help you too. Anything we can do to help each other live a more joyful, peaceful life — it’s worth it!
2 0 Read moreSpotlight on Jenna Barwin
August 4, 2026 by marianne h donley in category Writing tagged as First Book in Series, Jenna Barwin, new release, novella, Rescued by the Outlaw Vampire
Rescued
by the
Vampire Outlaw
Jenna Barwin
Dark Wine Novella 1
August 4, 2026
Hidden Depths Publishing
ISBN: 978-1952755231
About the Book
COLIN
Seeing her again tears me apart. Four years have passed, and I still love her as fiercely as the day she walked away. But my vampire community has given me one job: rescue her.
A catastrophic typhoon is racing toward the California coast. To save her life, I have no choice but to abduct her—because she’ll never believe the truth in time.
Then I bite her to restore the memories she lost.
The fear in her eyes guts me.
I’m doing my duty…but all I want is a second chance.
Can I convince her I’m not the monster she thinks I am?
NAMI
I wake screaming. There’s a man in my room. Then I realize who it is. My ex-boyfriend who believes he’s a vampire.
Part of me still loves him. But I can’t build a life with someone who’s delusional.
So I run.
But when I try to escape, he shows a side of himself I’ve never seen before—an outlaw who refuses to let me go.
Our desire still burns, but captivity changes everything. Every mile between us and freedom deepens my confusion. I still want him. I still care.
Yet if I don’t find a way to escape, I may lose more than my freedom—because my very heart is at risk…
Read more of Jenna Barwin’s Books
A Trip of One’s Own
June 30, 2026 by Dianna Sinovic in category Quill and Moss by Dianna Sinovic, Writing tagged as mystery, Road Trip, short fiction, vacations, writing
The cereal poured from the spout so quickly it overflowed Marie’s bowl and fell to the tile floor in the breakfast bar. She and Todd were on the second day of their summer vacation, and bar was a stretch. Other early risers crowded past her, their shoes crunching on the small O’s she’d spilled. She barely had room to turn around to find the milk. Meanwhile, Todd ignored her for his phone, doom scrolling through the morning news.
She plopped her bowl down on the high-top table, this time causing the milk to splash.
“Are you eating this morning?” Marie sipped her large coffee, glad for the caffeine, eager for the jump start it promised.
Her husband waved a hand, not looking up “Later. I hardly slept last night. The traffic noise, your snoring.” He finally glanced at her, with a scowl. “And you have to drag me out of bed at this ridiculous hour.”
The cereal had already gone limp in Marie’s bowl; she suspected it was an off-brand.
“We agreed that we would visit the Frederic Church house today.” She was not going to let Todd ruin the trip, ruin this precious time away from their cramped twin in Frenchtown and the Ginmans next door, whose three dogs never stopped barking. The rustic hotel along U.S. Route 9 had looked inviting in the photos posted online. Reality proved different. Small was an understatement.
“I’ll just wait in the car when we get there,” Todd growled. “You like that cultural stuff. You know I don’t.”
Fifteen years with this grouch. Had he always been this way? Her mother’s words, whispered in her ear as she adjusted the flounce on Marie’s wedding dress: Enjoy this while you can.
Once upon a time, she did. But now . . .
A hotel staffer appeared at Todd’s elbow and speaking in low tones requested that he report to the front desk. There was an issue.
“What’s wrong?” Marie asked. Todd’s clothes were strewn around their room, but that was nothing new. She would tidy up, as she always did, before they departed. Checkout wasn’t until Sunday.
The staffer ignored her. Todd grimaced, muttering under his breath, but followed the hotel rep away from the breakfast nook. Every table (there were only five) was filled, and the line for the coffee urns wound its way out to the lobby.
After twenty minutes and no return of Todd, Marie tossed her trash in the receptacle and went in search of him. She wanted to spend the day at the Church house and studio. She loved the artist’s glorious landscapes, even if all she could afford was a print of his Marine Sunset she had framed at Michaels with a discount coupon.
Todd was not at the front desk, which was unmanned. Aside from those in the coffee line, the lobby was empty.
“Hello?” She waited a moment, hit the brass bell on the counter, but no one appeared to help her. She fumbled for her cell phone and tapped on Todd’s number. The call went straight to voicemail. Had he returned to their room and fallen asleep?
Marie strode back to the room, steeling herself against his ongoing complaints. Like the lobby, though, the room was empty of Todd. Empty of his clothes too.
“Where the hell is he?” She was ready to head out without him. He could just stew for the day, hang out at the hotel, walk to the strip of small retail businesses across the road. She would savor an outing without his dark mood coloring every moment.
Back in the lobby, she stopped again at the desk. The staffer was the same one who had fetched Todd earlier.
“My husband, Todd Slifer,” Marie said. “He never returned to breakfast.”
“Breakfast?” The staffer’s eyebrows rose. “Perhaps he’s gone to your room?”
Marie sighed, the morning slipping away. “You summoned him to the desk. He’s not in the room or in the lobby. What was the issue?”
The staffer turned to his screen. “There must be some misunderstanding, Ms. …”
“Slifer.” Marie allowed her foot to tap out her impatience on the lobby tiles. This was vintage Todd, playing passive-aggressive when he didn’t want to do something she wanted. “Room 265.”
He tapped a few keys. When he looked up, she took a step back.
“Ma’am,” he said, with a slight shake of his head. “The room is booked for a single occupant, you. The room rate is good for two people, if your husband has come along. Shall I add his name?”
The lobby walls seemed to shift, and she grabbed the edge of the counter to keep from falling. “Are you saying that you did not drop by our breakfast table earlier and ask my husband to accompany you?”
“No,” he said. “I haven’t left the desk since I came on at seven.”
“Thanks.” Had he winked at her? Marie straightened up and pulled her purse higher on her shoulder. “You’re right. A misunderstanding.”
She wouldn’t look too hard for Todd, now or later. The tour of the Frederic Church house awaited her.
