Reviews For Moving In
Seriously Reviewed said "You know? Every so often you read a story that starts a little slow on the first few pages and then.....BAM it just explodes! This was one of them for me."
Kaye's Book Review Page
on which she said The book is "short, sweet, light-hearted and just plain fun."
Vince at Philosophy of Romance said "Alice Audrey’s voice is fresh, feisty, full of surprises and always fun. The author also deals with real people having real problems and she does it in a very insightful way."
Nessa at Chrysalis Stage said "If you like sweet, fast-paced romance with a hot hero and all of the misunderstandings that two people can throw at each other, then you will love this story."
Night Owl Reviews didn't have anything nice to say about it. Hey, you can't win them all.
Brenda Talley of Romance Studio said " I recommend this book to anyone. It was a pleasure to read and I shall look for more of her work in the future. "
By Guta Bauer at Murphy's Library did it twice! Once in English and once in Portuguese. I'm assuming they both say, "Life goes on, choices need to be made and we can never let our past deny us of our future. That’s just some of the things we learn from this story. "
If you did a review of my book, let me know! I'll be glad to link to you, even if you didn't like the book.
Books by Friends Click on the cover to see more about them:
Yeah, I know the sizes are weird. What a pain. Anyway, if any of these books look interesting to you, click on them to read more.
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His former lover came to visit. She couldn’t help but remember the night the ex stayed over – how she bounded across the darkened living room to the couch like a deer in a field. Yet when it came to the choice between hiking around in the park with them or getting the dishes done she said, “have fun” with a wave.
The challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write a story in exactly 55 words. Flash Fiction 55 is hosted by the G-man, a host with the most.
Theresa giggled. As soon as she realized it, she slapped a hand over her mouth, but the damage was done. Ted grinned back, his eyes saying gottcha! Pride wounded, she bristled, but Ted ignored her dignity and cracked another joke. Dangerous man. If he kept this up, where would she be?
The challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write a story in exactly 55 words. Flash Fiction 55 is hosted by the G-man, a host with the most.
“Hey, Mom. What’s the sound of a flower opening?”
“It’s the drip of spring rain, the humid kiss of a promise, the “sorry” of a wayward husband, the buzz of bees and the click of a casket closing.”
“No. Really, is it a swick or more of a swoosh. I need it for a video I’m making.”
.
.
The challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write a story in exactly 55 words. Flash Fiction 55 is hosted by the G-man, a host with the most.
“Everyone is smirking.” Theresa glared as she huddled against the bridge railing
“Relax,” Old Man Michael handed her the harness. “They’re just remembering the first time they did it. Put that on.”
“Are you sure they don’t think I’m crazy?”
“If they do, then they’re even crazier. They’ve all bungee jumped before.”
The challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write a story in exactly 55 words. Flash Fiction 55 is hosted by the G-man, a host with the most.
“I can’t go yet. I have to hurry up and get my post ready.”
“What post?”
“Fiction Friday 55.”
“Wait, it’s Friday already? How did that happen? I was sure it was still Thursday.”
“It IS Thursday. Thursday night, which is when Fiction Friday 55 begins. You know how it goes. In the Internet, Friday begins on Thursday night.”
The challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write a story in exactly 55 words. Flash Fiction 55 is hosted by the G-man, a host with the most.
“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with being a vegetarian. Honest. But don’t you think it’s a little elitist? Plants have feelings, you know. Consider the potatoes you put in the oven half an hour ago. They might still be alive. Cooking them is what’s killing them.”
“Potatoes can’t feel.”
That’s when the potato in the oven popped and steamed.
The challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write a story in exactly 55 words. Flash Fiction 55 is hosted by the G-man, a host with the most.
“Mom, be careful when you go past the high school or you’ll run over one of those stupid teenagers.”
“You’re a teenager,” Mom pointed out.
“Not like these. Bye!” She hopped out of the car right in front of the front doors.
Not two seconds later, a herd of late teenagers ran across the road like deer.
“Thank God she’s not like those,” Mom muttered.
The challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write a story in exactly 55 words. Flash Fiction 55 is hosted by the G-man, a host with the most.
It was a tragedy.
Early Sunday morning the children found the grizzly remains scattered all through the house. They assembled all the pieces and performed the autopsy. The verdict? Mother had sabotaged Easter again.
“Mom, you read too many who-done-its!”
The challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write a story in exactly 55 words. Flash Fiction 55 is hosted by the G-man, a host with the most.
It takes time
to realize that the world has indeed ended and everyone that matters
is long gone and the screaming, yawning void inside
can’t be filled by tears.
It takes time
for the tattered remains of purpose in life
to knit back into the fabric of a day.
For the joy of survival to carry any meaning and
for life to go on.
It takes time
The challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write a story in exactly 55 words. Flash Fiction 55 is hosted by the G-man, a host with the most.
A dozen relatives stood around the tomb
while the priest recited lines
that should have held deep meaning.
Stone faced, not a single child cried.
The widow, inconsolable, unable to not
grieve, stood alone. Cried alone. Carried on
with a life made vacant by different kinds of leaving.
Twenty years later, her turn comes and
history repeats itself.
The challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write a story in exactly 55 words. Flash Fiction 55 is hosted by the G-man, a host with the most.
The man at the window of the pharmacy pick up has been drinking. He’s rosy, and jovial, and must be pushing eighty even if he does have a fine crop of grey under his Stetson.
“So, they let you out,” the pharmacist says warmly.
“Yep. Don’t know what the fuss was about. Just me and my brother arguing.”
“Must have been the gun you waved,” the pharmacist says, still smiling.
The challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write a story in exactly 55 words. Flash Fiction 55 is hosted by the G-man, a host with the most.
He opened the envelope carefully, hopefully. A small pile of photos slid out – the kids on a slide, eating ice cream, laughing. They looked good. A little bigger, maybe, than last month when their mother sent the thank you note for the child support check. He pinned them to the wall – a growing collection of time passing.
The challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write a story in exactly 55 words. Flash Fiction 55 is hosted by the G-man, a host with the most.
Rough
waves of adversity crash into daily routine
turning all concepts end over end
endlessly
when does adversity become the norm
over the years
all the sharp-eyed eagerness of youth
wear to a dull roar
endlessly
turning, dreams and beliefs to pain and regret
while hard memory
crashes into waves of revision
until everything is worn smooth
The challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write a story in exactly 55 words. Flash Fiction 55 is hosted by the G-man, a host with the most.
 “Flowers? Didn’t I tell you I didn’t want any?” Theresa stifled a groan. So embarrassing. Everyone in the office stared and grinned.
“B-b-but your friend said I should get them.” Awkward, eager, Will’s eyes begged her to accept.
“You just wait. I’ll make you carry flowers around all day tomorrow. Ever hear of an amaryllis?”
The challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write a story in exactly 55 words. Flash Fiction 55 is hosted by the G-man, a host with the most.
“I know why you and your family like to visit me. It’s because my grass is greener.” She grinned at her brother.
“Yep. No argument there.”
“Wait. You aren’t supposed to agree. I was only kidding. It’s not like my life is so great.”
“No, you grass is literally greener. Mine is under three feet of snow.”
The challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write a story in exactly 55 words. Flash Fiction 55 is hosted by the G-man, a host with the most.
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The Serialists 
This week's participants:
What is the Serialists? It's a chance to check out some great online fiction. Each Wednesday
a new post
goes up where people who write connected fiction can share their latest episodes. Click on that link to get to the post where you can put in your own link.
Here are some of the best:
Want to get in the permanent list? Participate in the Serialists meme with a few points in mind, and you will be.
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