Archive for the ‘Reblogged’ Category

Dear friends and readers,
Today I would like to share this blog post: Don Massenzio interviewing me on his blog.
A great opportunity to visit his site and discover lots of interesting topics.  🙂

Author Don Massenzio

This week’s edition of A Perfect 10 features author Karen Obelaender. Karen tells us about her work and her inspiration.

Please enjoy this edition of A Perfect 10.

If you want to check out past interviews, you can find them in the following links:

A.C. Flory, Steve Boseley, Kayla Matt, Mae Clair, Jill Sammut, Deanna Kahler, Dawn Reno Langley, John Howell, Elaine Cougler, Jan Sikes, Nancy Bell, Nick Davis, Kathleen Lopez, Susan Thatcher, Charles Yallowitz, Armand Rosamilia, Tracey Pagana, Anna Dobritt

Also, if you are an author and you want to be part of this feature, I still have a few slots open for 2017. You can email me at

KarenDoes writing energize or exhaust you?

Writing is rather energizing for me. As soon as the adrenaline kicks in, my writing juices…

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Behind Every Door

Posted: February 14, 2016 in Reblogged


Dear readers,
today I share this wonderful story with you: Behind Every Door by Hayley R. Hardman ⭐
Enjoy, my friends.

The Story Files

Door, Building, Ruin

I stare at my front door then whisper, ‘my high street. Let me open the door and walk into my high street, please.’

Gripping the heavy brass knob, I twist it to the right and pull open the door. My totally normal three floored terrace house street flashes by and is replaced with a desolate countryside scene. I grit my teeth and look at the tall waves of grass rustling against the ruins of a giant stone doorway.

I close the door and press both hands to the three hundred year old wood. Praying to anyone and everything that’s listening, I wonder why I’ve been cursed with a magic door. To be honest there are more upsides then downsides. Last year, I spent two weeks in Italy, travel and hassle free. Also, when I had to escape from a blind date that went completely wrong. Well, there’s not much of…

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Today I just have to share Karen Soutar’s Flash Fiction “The House” with you. Enjoy!

Kaz Ess

Haven’t shared much fiction lately, so here’s a bite-size bit of creepiness. I wrote this for a flash fiction competition. I didn’t win a prize, but on reflection I did a bit of tweaking, and here it is for your delectation. The piece was to be exactly 400 words (which it still is).

The House

Pic courtesy of Pic courtesy of

Empty, they say. Abandoned. Unsafe. It’s been that way for so long no-one remembers when The House was last in use.

That’s the only name I’ve heard for the old theatre. I’ve checked town records. The library, newspapers – even the chatter of the internet is silent on the subject.

I, too, am empty and unsafe. Soon I will crumble – although no-one can see it.

The whiskered, whiskyed gents outside the pub are flattered to speak to the retired performer who’s come to live in their town. But they become…

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CAST – Flash Fiction

Posted: February 25, 2014 in Reblogged

Great short story by Hesthermay! 🙂

Benny at the Bus Stop with the Gun

Posted: December 31, 2013 in Reblogged

Another great story by Jessica P. West! 🙂


Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Characters within are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Brittle wind slashed through a long, dark trench coat that Guy Pearce had long outgrown. Hell of a night to be out. Why Benny had chosen a bus stop, at three am, to meet was beyond him. The streetlight above his head flickered in time with each chilly gust.

    Guy pulled a pack of smokes from his front pocket. Fumbled with stiff fingers to light one. He turned his back to the wind, hunched over closer to the line of shrubs behind the icy concrete bench. Saw a pair of red high heeled feet poking out beneath the foliage. Lit his smoke and straightened.

    He ran a hand through his greasy, thinning black hair, a nervous habit that he’d never rid himself of. Jesus Christ. Of…

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Posted: December 13, 2013 in Reblogged

A great story by Jessica P. West. It makes you wonder about why people just do not seem to care. I hope you like and/or appreciate it as much as I do.


The wheel of a shopping cart squealed as the vagrant pushed it along the sidewalk. Her long, ragged dress dragged behind her, collecting dirt and debris. Matted, grey locks hung from her head, a far cry from formerly bright auburn tresses. People gave her a wide berth in the street, feigning intense interest in their cell phones. They noticed her much more than she did them. All she saw was darkness.

She broke into condemned houses and abandoned buildings, sleeping on cushioned seats when she was lucky. Whenever the cops caught her trespassing, they’d put her up for a night or two. She never slept better than when she was in jail. She had a hot meal, a warm bed, and a building full of cops to keep Him away.

When the weather was nice, she slept in the park. She’d woken once to Him sitting beside her, watching her…

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Up in Flames

Posted: November 7, 2013 in Reblogged

Another great story by Jessica!


John had wanted to be a firefighter for as long as he could remember. His father, a police officer, had always told him he wouldn’t make much money. His mother insisted the job was too dangerous, and that no woman would attach herself to a man who would more than likely make her a young widow. Both his parents had argued against it for so long that he felt compelled to take on the risky job if for no other reason than to prove them wrong. Drinking coffee alone in his small kitchen, facing a stack of unpaid bills, he wondered if he should reconsider his career.

He didn’t believe that women could have been so turned off by his occupation, but couldn’t figure out what else could possibly be amiss. He’d been blessed with his mother’s looks. With olive skin, dark eyes and hair, and a trim 6’1” frame…

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Empty Goodbyes

Posted: October 20, 2013 in Reblogged

This story that just had to be reblogged. 🙂


Stepping onto the porch, I tipped an imaginary hat to the bereft neighbor standing with Officer Carter, the first on the scene. “Mrs. Claire Whitstine,” I said. “I’m Detective West. Can you tell me what happened?”

“Well, I live across the street,” she waved her hand absently in the direction of her house, then wrapped her arms around herself. “I was coming to check on Dana, I haven’t seen her in three days.” Her eyes glazed over, and she stared at nothing. “I knocked before going in. I called out, but she didn’t answer. When I got to the bedroom at the end of the hall, I saw her lying in bed. So beautiful, so peaceful.” A few more tears escaped.

“Claire, I know this is difficult,” I said, “but I just have a few more questions. Okay?”

She nodded.

“Do you always let yourself into Dana’s house?”

Her brow…

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