Excerpt from: “My Lunch with Joan Rivers”
a short story by: Moose Tyler
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I hadn’t intended on having lunch with Joan Rivers that day. A magazine rep – whose name I have since forgotten – had invited the girl who sat in the cubicle next to mine, but she claimed to despise the comedian and asked me to go in her stead.
Excerpt from: “Kurt Blanchard & Peachy Hughes, a Love Story”
a novel by: Moose Tyler
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Whether it was cold or hot outside, he wore dirty jeans and a dingy white t-shirt. His sneakers had holes in the sides, the laces were shredded, and the soles worn slick were his single biggest source of contention for when he lost foot races or other contests of physical skill.
Excerpt from: “Have You Seen Mr. Lampone’s Girlfriend?”
a short story by: Moose Tyler
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He likes cleavage clones. Tiny handbag clutchers. Blondes poured into designer imposter dresses and spun out into the world on stilts. You know the kind.
Excerpt from: “The Monarch’s Story: Becoming a Warrior”
a novel by: Moose Tyler
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Amaria thought about the drawings she had seen of men. Many of them were painted with
jagged teeth, and she imagined them snarling and snapping at the Great Mother like wolves. In Amaria’s vision, the Great Mother was calm with glowing blonde hair and green eyes, green as the leaves of the forest during the rain season.
Excerpt from: “Dirtbags”
a novel by: Moose Tyler
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That was the last thing I said before he left. I think I kissed him. Pretty sure I did. It all happened so fast. One minute he was standing there in his dungarees and school sweater, smile ear to ear, and the next he was gone.
Excerpt from: “Papa Herks v. The World”
a novel by: Moose Tyler
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I can unlatch the gate on my crate. Shhh, don’t tell my humans. They’re kind but not too bright. If they found out, they’d use bungees. Doesn’t make sense to lock a guard dog in a box at night, while the humans sleep, weak and defenseless, vulnerable to the evils of the night. But, like I said, they’re not too bright. No human is. No offense.
Excerpt from: “The Cold Case Files of Woody Shackles”
a collection of short stories by: Moose Tyler
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The call came in early, around 0800.
“Quincy’s on line two for ya, Sarge.”
I sighed and nodded to Deputy Mullins before picking up the handset. I cleared my throat. “It’s a bit early, isn’t it? Watcha got today, some chickens choked by a crazy cauliflower?” I leaned back in my chair and took a sip of coffee. “A pesky Pekinese pummel a Pomeranian?”
Excerpt from: “The Queen Bee’s Orders”
a short story by: Moose Tyler
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Excerpt from: “Another Hard Candy Christmas and Other Holiday Tales”
a short story collection by: Moose Tyler
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I proceeded to Room 136 and nudged the door open, gently. The fluorescents overhead had been turned on but dimmed to a less intrusive ambient lighting. My mother was propped up in the bed. Pale as skim milk; skinny as withered milkweed. Cheeks and eye sockets, sunken. A devote bottle brunette, her thinning hair was mussed up in the back and matted down in the front. Her loose-fitted white hospital gown was crumpled, but she was alert and had a glint in her eye I hadn’t seen all week.
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