Date Published: 11/17/2020

Publisher: Lands Atlantic Publishing

Nineteen-year-old Juliet can’t shake the nightmares after surviving a brutal bank robbery. In order to put those terrifying memories behind, she’ll have to testify against the criminal known as the Half Face. She convinces herself that she is perfectly safe, until he manages to break free and grab the nearest hostage he sets his sights on. Her.

In an effort to escape the captivity of the law, and his tortured past, the Half Face takes Juliet on an obsessive search for answers and redemption. During the harsh journey, his unpredictability fuels Juliet’s worst fear, that he just may be insane and beyond any hope of saving.

Excerpt

I glance at my watch. Fifteen minutes to go. It seems both too fast and too slow.

I go over the rehearsed words in my head. What if I forget everything I need to say? What if I black out, or cry? I don’t want to cry where he can see me. No, that cannot happen.

In an attempt to distract myself, I slide my phone out of my pocket and mindlessly scroll through the menu. I freeze when I come across the news feed.

Liveblog: trial of top-criminal known as “the Half Face” continuing today.

Someone in that courtroom is twittering the events, and I’m locked up in this miserable room until they can bring me out like the next circus act.

‘I must ask you to put your phone away for now,’ the woman says. When I look up, I find her looking at me with a pitying gaze. ‘We don’t want you to read anything that can influence your statement.’

Of course. ‘I’m just nervous,’ I say, and put my phone back in my pocket.

‘You will be absolutely fine. If you find you don’t want to look at him, you don’t have to. Remember that you’re doing this to help us put him away for good. That is why you chose to testify, isn’t it?’

‘Right.’

She nods, and we fall into silence again, until there’s a brief knock on our door. The woman smiles, rises from her chair and beckons me.

Suddenly, my heart is racing even harder than before. ‘Can…can I go to the bathroom real quick?’

‘Sure. Just this way.’ She leads me over to another door and remains outside as I enter.

The tiles are shiny and clean. I hear the buzzing of air conditioning.

After I flush, I take a quick moment to splash a handful of cold water in my face. It helps a little. I lean my hands on the sink and stare at my reflection in the round mirror. I’m very pale. My eyes are wide open, like a frightened animal. Strands of dark brown hair are falling from the bun that had been so tightly secured this morning. They cling to my sweaty face. I brush them away.

The woman knocks on the door. ‘Juliet? It’s time.’

I’m on the verge of calling out: No! Leave me alone, I’m not going! There’s a thick feeling in my throat that I try to get rid of by swallowing. When it doesn’t work, I settle for a deep breath before wiping my palms on my skirt and exiting the bathroom.

‘There’s no need to be nervous,’ the woman says again. But what does she know? She didn’t have to drop to the ground, pretending to be a dead body, while a monster was standing mere feet away from her barking orders.

We make our way across the building, all the way to the end of the long corridor, and make a right turn. The entire building is so clean. We pass a large, square painting on the wall; we pass a mirror where I briefly catch my pale reflection, we pass a man with a cell phone pressed to his ear, giving us a curious glance.

Then the woman stops in front of a dark, polished door. The small plate next to the door reads Courtroom 14.

We’re here.

The woman gives me an encouraging smile. I pull up the corners of my mouth, just enough to make it look like I’m smiling back.

‘Remember, you just have to answer a few questions. I’ll be here to escort you back.’

‘I know.’

She looks like she wants to say something else, but before she does, the door opens. I automatically step back, creating some space for Harry Dartes. He sees me, undoubtedly registers the worry in my eyes, and gives my shoulder a brief squeeze. ‘It’s worse just before you go in, girl.’

I nod. He smiles one last time before another court attendant urges him on, and mine gestures to me, indicating that I will have to enter Courtroom 14 at last.

About the Author

Mara Li has been writing from an early age. She is inspired by fairytales, myths and legends from all over the world. In 2016 her debut novel De Stem van de Zee was nominated for the Harland Awards Roman Prize for best Dutch fantasy. Winter is her writing season (summer never gets much of it). Tea and ginger nuts are her writing food, her cat’s attention can sometimes be an obstacle. Her novel, Half Face, launches her as an international author with books published in multiple countries and languages.

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As a twenty-something corporate employee with a doctor-in-training girlfriend, Livingstone Modicai Ackerman—Liv, to his friends—personifies success. Yet all is not as it seems. His job is tedious and soul-gutting, his girlfriend is a vacuous, image-conscious snob, and, meanwhile, his pathologically narcissistic parents are constant irritants. Add to this the febrile political climate dominated by a reactionary group, the Patriot Posse, led by a mendacious radio personality with outlandish hair and catchy campaign slogan to “Make America Great Again,” is a presidential candidate—and he’s winning!

Overwhelmed and struggling to maintain a sense of dignity and worth, Liv quits his job, breaks up with his girlfriend, and leaves for Spain to explore the existential question: Why live?

Told with humorous charm and wit, Why Liv? examines why modern work is so devoid of purpose and why reactionary politics is so alluring in America. Most of all, it humbly attempts to offer a reason to persevere during difficult times.

Excerpt

The Comitans, huddled together like penguins in the Arctic cold, waved posters at passing cars, cheering heartily when one honked in approval. “Guns not Butter,” one sign read. Another, “When Liberals Lead, Freedom Bleeds.” And, predict- ably, “I’m John Galt.” I nearly ran headlong into them.

Goddammit, I thought. Why now?

The Comitans were a menacing omen. Others existed, of course, like the rain. New York was in the midst of a record, nonstop deluge. Some claimed it was global warming, but most climate models predicted the East Coast would see less rainfall, not more. It had something to do with shifting currents in the Atlantic. Convection, I believe.

Then there was the economic crisis. Nobody could have seen it coming, right? A speculative bubble, evident only after the fact. That’s finance. Good years, bad years—the price of prosperity, supposedly. Not really. It was perfectly predictable. The signs were clear.

However, the Comitans were altogether different. After all, you could adjust to the lousy weather, but did it even matter if you went to work? Sunny weather only drove home the cruelty of cubicle captivity. As for the Wall Street-induced economic crisis, sure, it was ruinous, but mostly for those at a comfortable remove. For the wealthy, it was just momentary turbulence in the first-class cabin, a mere hiccup. The rich never paid for their misdeeds; the poor always did, even if blameless.

The Comitans were genuinely frightening and completely impossible to ignore. No sooner had you forgotten about the noisy irritants than a new crop arrived, spewing hate like crazed soccer hooligans and accosting you as you left the grocery store.

At first, I doubted they would ever converge on the city. It was a reasonable expectation given that, initially, they mostly stuck to their southern strongholds, holding rallies in places like Biloxi, Mississippi, and Decatur, Georgia. But then they began to spread, like a toxic contagion.

Although they kept getting closer, it still seemed unlikely they would actually breach the city limits. New York—cosmopolitan, progressive, diverse—personified the evil they detested. Why come at all?

But they did. It was a modern-day sacking of Rome. Thousands converged on Manhattan on chartered buses that discharged them into Midtown, from where they strategically fanned out across the city, heckling and jeering and picking fights like rabid dogs along the way.

I first spotted them in my neighborhood a few weeks ago. After that, my encounters were mostly from a distance, though each time less so. I should have expected the inevitable. After nearly colliding with a dozen or so of the rabble-rousers after turning the corner of Fifty-Second Street, I did what any New Yorker would do when crossing paths with the deranged and possibly dangerous: I stared ahead blankly. Streetwise. That’s what Gotham’s concrete canyons required.

In my peripheral vision, I caught sight of a seemingly dis- embodied hand from the huddled mass, finger pointing at me accusingly, and a swarm of sneering faces. Over the music playing on my earbuds, a “fuck you” registered, along with some other choice insults. I did not linger. The rain was getting heavy, and I was late for work.

“Looks like you’ve seen better days, Liv,” Jay said as I staggered into the office, soaked to the bone. On a positive note, I was relieved to have survived my first direct contact with the Comitans unscathed.

“Every day is better than Monday,” I sulked.

About the Author

Jon Sebastian Shifrin is a writer plying his trade in Washington, DC. His work has appeared in The Baltimore Sun, The Hill, Reunion: The Dallas Review, The Missing Slate, The Indian Review, and Futures Trading. Jon also is the founder of the popular current events website, The Daily Dissident (www.dailydissident.com). His non-literary career in politics has taken him from the White House to Capitol Hill to think tanks in Washington and Europe. To learn more about Why Liv?, visit www.whyliv.com.

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Published: November 1, 2020

Publisher: Koehler Books

Sandee Mason is convinced her life will change if she can just win applause for her talents-whatever they may be. She can’t wait to accomplish something after living in the shadow of her big brother, Bri, who disappeared in Afghanistan months earlier, leaving Sandee craving the same attention the whole town is giving him even as she wrestles with feelings of loss. When her high school drama department puts on the play Oklahoma!, she knows that now is her chance to step out and be noticed. What will she learn about herself as she reaches out to the world?

About the Author

B. Lynn Goodwin owns Writer Advice, www.writeradvice.com. Her memoir, Never Too Late: From Wannabe to Wife at 62 (Koehler Books) won a National Indie Excellence Award a Human Relations Indie Book Award, and a Pinnacle Book Award as well as earning an Honorable Mention in other contests. Her flash fiction has been published in Nebo, Cabinet of Heed, and Flashquake. Other short works have appeared in Hip Mama, The Sun, GoodHousekeeping.com, PurpleClover.com, Dramatics Magazine and in assorted regional publications. A former drama and English teacher, she’s presented writing and journaling workshops for Story Circle Network, the California Writers Club, several Contra Costa County libraries, and is a Manuscript Coach at Writer Advice, where she also writes reviews, interviews authors, and shares writing and marketing information. Before she became an author, she taught drama in high school and college, and directed plays and musicals there as well as directing in community theatre. Her award-winning high school drama students were invited to perform at the International Thespian Society along with 14 other high schools selected from around the country. She directed the musical in Talent, Oklahoma!, at San Ramon Valley High School and directed over 50 productions in high school, college, and community theatre.

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Young Adult

Date Published: October 5, 2020

Publisher: Rhetoric Askew Publishing, LLC

Leah and Sasha are 17-year-old friends who had been close to one another
since elementary school, but as the summer approaches they find their
friendship tested in ways they never anticipated.

Following graduation, Sasha’s privileged life and perception of the
world around her is suddenly altered when an old childhood friend persuades
her to join in a campaign against an injustice after his best friend is
killed by a cop.

But joining the protest has unforeseen consequences for Sasha, distancing
her from Leah, who becomes jealous of Sasha’s new friends and finds
herself on the opposing side, protesting alongside her group of new white
friends.

As the tension mounts between the two bitterly opposed factions, a tragedy
strikes and threatens to make Sasha and Leah enemies. Can they find a way to
resolve their differences, putting them to the side and learn to accept each
other’s viewpoints? Or is their long friendship finished for
good?

 Excerpt

“We ordered four large pizzas,” said Melissa.

“Seriously, pizza?  No salad? I have to watch my amazing
figure.”

 I glimpsed out the window, people were still protesting. I had
imagined that it would have all been over by now. There was Ricardo and some
school friends marching in the streets holding signs.

“Chloe stay inside. I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” asked Leah.

 “I saw my neighbor, Ricardo. I just want to go talk to
him.”

 I must talk to him.

“Why?” Leah sighed.

“Because the guy killed by the police was his best friend.”

“There you go with that again.” Leah rolled her eyes. Alright,
hurry and I will sit with Chloe until you get back.”

“Thanks, just make sure Chloe gets some pizza and save me a
slice.”

I walked into the crowd, bumping into people, and apologizing. I started
yelling for Ricardo. I found him but he was fading in the crowd. I focused
my eyes on Ricardo’s red shirt and continued through the crowd like I
was in a football game running between players holding the ball.

There was a soft tap on my shoulder, it was Ricardo. His eyes were red from
screaming and chanting on the street while holding a sign. Protesting seemed
like his career.

“What are you doing out here?”

“We won our volleyball championship game, so we went to the Fountain,
but I wanted to tell you I am sorry for what happened to your
friend.”

At first, I didn’t grasp that it happened to a boy at his school and
a close friend of his, but now my heart desired to show sympathy.

“Yeah, he was my best friend, and we were on the basketball team
together.”

“So, how did it happen?”

“They mistook him for a guy that robbed a gas station and the bad
thing about the situation is they caught the real robber later that
night.” As Ricardo was explaining what happened, his eyes began to
turn red. “This is too dangerous; you shouldn’t be out
here.

I became interested in more of the story. Wondering exactly what happened
to Mitchell and who would tell the story better than his best friend. So, I
built up enough guts to ask him how he died?

“The police shot him by mistake, and nothing happened to the cop that
shot him; that’s why I’m out here fighting for
justice.”

My heart fell below my stomach after listening to Ricardo alarm me of
Mitchell’s death. I never met the boy, but I mourned for him like he
was my friend too. That could’ve been anybody. It could’ve been
Leo or Ricardo. Hell, I could’ve been me.

“I’m sorry for your friend because I saw your post last night,
and I wanted to check on you.”

I must help in any way that I could but what could I do? What if something
happens to me? I mean the police were deep in downtown St. Louis, on every
corner. What if they shoot me by mistake for helping the protesters?

As I turned to walk back to the ice cream parlor, Ricardo grabbed me by the
arm.

“We have meetings in my basement every Saturday if you ever want to
come to one.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Interesting, but I had too much to do with getting ready for prom and
graduation. He kind of convinced me to go though. My skin started to crawl
as my mind imagined such a tragedy happening at Chester Academy. We
don’t have those problems, so we don’t worry about them. The
kids at Chester should join in with the kids at their school to help
protest. It would show them that other schools care.  Although, it
might not be a good idea because the kids at Chester are too rich and snobby
to understand.

Leah was sitting with her arms folded, face wrinkled, and cheeks blushing
red.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked.

I know I’ve left her too long with Chloe, so I gave her a sorry
smirk, pushing my lips out for her to forgive me.

Everyone left. She had to stay behind to babysit Chloe, while I chatted
with Ricardo.

“What took you so long?”

“I wanted to ask Ricardo more questions about Mitchell, who went to
school with them.”

“You shouldn’t be talking to him about that stuff or even be
around him. You know how jealous Leo is.”

“I was just curious, and we were childhood friends. Leo has nothing
to be jealous of and I won’t let him come between us because
there’s nothing going on.”

Leah shoved the pizza in my chest and stormed out the door. Every time I
brought up Ricardo, Leah’s face cheeks would flush and her lips would
clench. So, why would Leo care if he’s not here? One thing is for
sure, I’ve been Leah’s friend for so long that I know she can
twist a story. So, I was making it a priority to rush home to call
Leo.

When we got home, I ran upstairs to call Leo.

“I’m glad to hear your voice. I laid on my stomach in the bed
with my feet in the air and crossed my legs.

About the Author

Kimberley B. Jones is a professional early childhood educator. She was born
in the small town of Saint George, South Carolina, on September 12, 1982.
She graduated from Woodland High School in 2000, Benedict College in 2004
with B.S., Child & Family Development, and Ashford University in 2013
with a Masters in Early Childhood Education.

After receiving her education and being a military spouse, she held several
jobs as a preschool teacher and a preschool director, but she wanted to use
her education by writing children’s books. She wrote her first book in
college for a children’s literature course. She has since
self-published several books that can be found on Amazon.

 Currently, she is branching off into writing fiction YA, NA, and A
novels on issues in society. She loves writing and would change it for
nothing in this world. She is now representing Rhetoric Askew, a great
publishing company. Kimberley is the author of “Our Friendship
Matters,” soon to be released October 5, 2020 and so much more coming
soon.

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