"Sit down, Mom, Dad. I have something to tell you, and it won't be easy. But I must be true to myself. For years, I've been leading a double life. On the side, I've been moonlighting as a... God, how can I say this? I'm a *writer*."
Yes, fellow fans of fiction, I am retiring my pen name. Future stories will be submitted under my legal name, Don Jennings. But I will ever remain ole "randy loins" at heart.
The month of March was a Deeply Southern lunar cycle, with publication of stories set in Chattanooga and rural Alabama.
Read. Enjoy. Leave comments. Earn my undying gratitude.
"I would tell people the tattoo was ironic, a joke. Sometimes that worked. But some old boys didn't think it was funny at all. What finally worked best of all was the truth, when I admitted that I got the tattoo as an expression of love for my mother. One thing no Southern boy will do is talk bad about your mother..."
Read the complete text of The Hammer and Sickle Tattoo here.
"John wondered if the guy was headed to the corner bar to shoot some stick, croon a tune with his pals, then turn some cowgirl's head before leaving for the night. When he lit a smoke, nobody nagged. Men slapped him on the back, and women waited in line to two-step... John considered tailing him, but instead, snuffed his butt on the sidewalk and walked towards home. Otherwise, Carol would rag his ass..."
Read the complete text of Working Without a Net here.
Until next time.