Hi everyone! I’m so excited! My second short story collection, “Tales of a Twisted World” is due to be released on Amazon (Kindle) and Barnes & Noble (Nook) either Monday night (the 15th) or Tuesday (the 16th). I thought I’d share some of it with you.
Excerpts from TALES OF A TWISTED WORLD by Cynthia Ley
Peter lay down again and surveyed the sky.
“Well,” Jan asked thoughtfully, “do you think we’re the only ones out here?”
“Here?” Peter asked. “As in, here here?”
“Are you all right, Alissa?” Matt asked. He sounded concerned.
“No,” she said. “What can I do about it?”
“Our company sells a top of the line security system. Cameras, keypads, lights, alarms– the works. No one’s gotten passed it yet.”
“I just don’t know,” she said, allowing uncertainty to creep into her voice. “It sounds really expensive.”
She was a void then. Looking back, she still couldn’t remember that time. She knew she went to work and paid her bills. But that was all she knew. Whatever else happened, it hadn’t stuck with her.
From BLOWING SMOKE: OBSERVANCES OF A CURMUDGEON
The place? A huge city which calls itself the center of the world. The place which dictates the world economy. The place which makes the calls on any trend of any kind. A place where people are crowded together, where the air is blasted nonstop with the noise of the human species endlessly engaging in narcissistic speculation about itself.
From: THE COLLECTOR
Hoover was one hundred percent dedicated to purifying the English language, the most confounding crazy quilt of a language ever constructed. He was bound and determined to find the essence of it all. To do that, he needed the words.
Everyone thought he was nuts. Because he was also brilliant, and generally a nice guy, everyone called him “eccentric” instead.
From: THE PATHWAY
No reflective surfaces. Something jarred. An alley. I was in an alley, walls on both sides, no windows to break them up.
No street lights, either. I looked down both open ends, seeing only darkness.
However I got here, I seemed to be no worse for wear.
From: FOOD CHAIN
Both of them did the research. Neither trusted other people to do it for them. Critical subtleties could be missed. A flick of an ear could mean dissuading a fly, or be a precursor to a lethal charge. Being able to read all the signs was crucial. There would be no chance to analyze a misinterpretation. As they often reminded each other, “Never trust a hippo.” Cute and cuddly they were not.
Having worked on large animal jobs, they both wanted to turn their attention elsewhere. They felt it was time to haul out the creepy crawlies. They were interesting in their brainless sort of way. And people loved being grossed out. Of course, they didn’t present that last little detail in their grant application letter.
Sometimes we choose the road.
Sometimes the road chooses us.
Look out for obstacles while enjoying the scenery….