Free Ebooks – Short Stories Adventure and All.

An opportunity to read my short story books, they are free on Amazon this week.

Author Page Amazon.

Let me know what you think, which was the best of the bunch?

I am working on a new anthology – title undecided – I am aiming to produce 300 pages based on a  theme of lost love. It will not be a romance collection, instead it will be a series based on real life events.

Enjoy.

I received a lovely comment from a reader about my book, Missing.

She found the description of the location, setting and the farming community authentic and real. This, she believed, could only have been written by someone from within that environment.

I felt humbled by her enthusiasm.

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Huntress in Suburbia

Friday Fictioneers – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields

Huntress in Suburbia

It always happens to me. Melissa kicked a bucket.
Ouch, it was full of sand. Had she broken her toe?
More rain to come, so the welcome BBQ was off. What will they think?
She had escaped squatting in a squalid basement flat, and after they took her baby, Ellen, away, inside she died. Her pimp, a weak drug dealing scum, had a fortune stashed beneath the floorboards. She put a mickey in his vein and left him to rot.
She bought into suburbia – clean and with a teaching job –an ambitious single woman out to trap a rich husband.

A Warning Anagram

Friday Fictioneers – inlinkz

PHOTO PROMPT © Randy Mazie

A Warning Anagram

‘Whoever created time.’ Holmes mumbled as sweat dripped from his chin. ‘Must control the universe.’
I sprinted to catch up. ‘It’s abandoned. You were wrong Holmes.’
‘No, Watson, those walls conceal the Tardis.’ He wiped his brow. ‘See, a warning; Transgression S – S for Sherlock.’
I stared at his intellectual smugness forming laughter lines by his eyes. The dust burned in my lungs, and Holmes’s grin prompted me to draw my pistol. If I shot him, I’d be free from this mad quest?
‘Yes, let’s be careful,’ Holmes said. ‘We may have overstepped the Time Lord’s patience.’

Love from Lizard Island

Friday Fictioneers.

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

Lizard Island

From the jetty, I watch the plane skip and skim over the lake. Its engine roaring as it lifts high into the Autumn sky, and like a migrating swan it glides southward towards a warmer horizon.
I suppressed my tears and wave a frantic farewell as pride fills my lungs.  Mary promised to return as she is free from our genetic abnormality.
She will confront the ignorant multitude to overcome the prejudice that holds our people quarantined on this island.
Other teenagers have tried, they never come home.
I stroke the scales on my claws and wonder; will she succeed?

Sherlock Holmes escapes Corfe Castle

Friday Fictioneers – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

Escape from Corfe Castle.

Holmes is missing, and the last train waits.
We came to investigate the torture and murder of three French spies, but found them unperturbed drinking real ale in the Purbeck Arms.
A trick and heinous treachery by Professor Moriarty to lure us to death in the dungeons of the castle.
What is taking him so long?
The scarlet sky, not a good sign, its dying rays dripping like blood over the castle ruins. Is it the end of Holmes?
What next; a screeching Pterodactyl swooping downwards.
‘Quick, Watson!’ Holmes shouts from the beast. ‘Jump on before the magic wears off.’

Corfe Castle

American Dream

Friday Fictioneers – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Rockefeller Center.

Where do I start with this week’s prompt? There is a lot going on in the picture, from the tall skyscraper in the background, the ‘See No Evil’ statue, the food stall and to our security guard having a rest in the evening heat.
My mind wandered over this for ages struggling to find a central focus and I kept returning to thoughts of loneliness during a night shift. But what of the people who inhabit this civilised affluent world?

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

The American Dream

‘How’s Li Ying doing?’
‘Chai, no sugar?’ said Mo Chou. ‘Li Ying, So proud, she in Medical College now.’
‘Ah Mo, your tea’s the best,’ said Tyler.
‘And your Alexis?’ Mo passed the drink. ‘You want, pretzel?’
‘She’s her dream job down Broad Street with Sullivan’s.’ He pushed his hat back. ‘And yea, her fancy shoes cost my Walmart check.’
‘You want butter or maple?’ Mo dribbled the syrup. ‘Li Ying soon be a doctor.’
‘Ah Mo, we’ve done well.’ He pointed his pretzel at the statue. ‘Our kids, them “see no evil”, but we know Mo. Yea we know.’

Is she coming?

Friday Fictioneers by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Is she coming?

Wait by the plugs, she had said.
Where is she? My stomach tightened, and I strode around the display.
I looked at the tickets; the train leaves in ten minutes.
Her father; did she tell him?
We booked Gretna Green for tomorrow morning.
I saw her and picked up my bag.
‘Come on Aileen, let’s go.’ I took her arm. ‘Where’s your suitcase?’
‘John!’ She stood and squeezed my hand. ‘I can’t.’
Regret rippled down my spine.
‘There is no baby, and my –’ Her eyes were tearful.
A splinter of shame split my heart in two.

---

Why run away to Gretna Green?

Independence Day Parade

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Independence Day Parade

‘Marcel are you coming.’
‘No, not until I get nuggets.’
‘Get out from under the table. Do you want to see the parade?’
‘Yes, but I want nuggets.’
‘Don’t spoil the holiday, son. We’re going now. Bye.’
‘Wait! I want turkey nuggets.’
‘Mom’s already gone to watch the parade. Now come or stay.’
‘Can you buy me nuggets?’
‘Sorry son, Mom’s taken her purse.’
‘Dad, why do we always have to do what Mom’s says?’
‘Let’s go watch the bands.’
‘Okay. Will Mom buy the nuggets afterwards?’
‘Maybe. Just remember independence and freedom works better, if you’re nice to Mom.’

Infatuation

 

Friday Fictioneers – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

Infatuation

The draft wafted a fragrance of jasmine across the counter: I looked up.
‘Carmen!’
‘Hello Joe, can I have one for the matinee?’ She fumbled in her handbag. ‘Usual seat, please.’
‘One? What’s happened to John?’
‘Please, I am in a hurry.’ She passed over the ten-dollar bill and grabbed the ticket. A silver ring rolled from her purse and fell behind the counter.
‘I’ll get that.’ I held it up as she walked away. ‘Carmen, your ring.’
‘Keep it, throw it. I don’t care.’
She slammed the door as she rushed out.
Yes! Tomorrow, I’ll ask her to dinner.

 

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This week I prepared a basic book trailer for my novel MISSING. It is on my author page, if you would like to watch it..

Author Page- James McEwan

 

Flight to Freedom

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Flight to Freedom

Susan MacKay was travelling to Australia, and to a new teacher’s post in Brisbane.
Her stomach churned; was her flight delayed?
Oh no! She had planned to be airborne when the kitchen exploded into flames and the fire brigade found her husband’s charred remains. Forensics would conclude he died of an overdose and of gas inhalation. Suicide. An insurance payout.
His gambling debts and affairs drove her to a mental breakdown.
“Would Mrs MacKay please report to the information desk?”
She froze. Had he escaped? Did the burning candle not ignite the gas?
“Last call for Mrs MacKay at gate 10C.”