Here are some short stories, free chapters, and assorted pieces covering the lives of many characters in many worlds.
Sam noticed the quiet first. While he had been enjoying the chance to work
on his homework from the university, he had been listening to the children
through the open window in the kitchen. Worried, Sam shook the lingering thoughts about the Revolutionary War
from his mind and stood up. The large
window in the kitchen afforded him a perfect view of the backyard sandbox where
he had last seen the two children.
He could clearly see his son, Jack,
playing with the dump truck he had gotten for his birthday that year. His partner’s fair-haired daughter Julie,
however, was nowhere in sight. Frowning,
Sam headed for the back door. Julie, at
the glorious age of five, had all of her mother’s instinct for trouble and none
of her father’s common sense to avoid it.
By the time he had reached the
sliding door, Julie was back in sight, carrying a bucket and clearly trying to
keep Jack from noticing her as she slipped around behind him. Sam sighed, because there were rules, like no
water in the sandbox, and no using the hose without permission, and don’t fight
with your step brother, and with Michael off being the benevolent dictator at
the shop, he was going to have to be the tyrant at home.
"Julie Erin Bryant!" Sam called as he stalked into the back yard,
"Stop that right now. You know the
Julie looked up, bucket of water
half tilted, "But Papa," she protested, "he started it."
Sam sighed as he trotted down the
steps; it was going to be one of those conversations where he would have to
track down every aspect of the story and shake it loose before figuring out
whom to punish first. Especially since
Julie calling him Papa instead of Mister Sam always made him want to break down
and let her get away with things. "What
"J.J. took Pearl and he shot
her!" Julie said as she put the
Sam looked down as he approached
the sandbox. Jack looked up at him with
the same solemn expression that had captured his heart from day one. Sam noted that Jack did indeed have one of
Julie’s dolls in his dump truck, with an odd-looking red stain on her white
dress. "What do you have to say for
yourself, Jack?" Sam asked finally.
Jack pointed a chubby finger at
Julie accusingly, "She took my action figure last night; I was questioning
Pearl as to where she put him because the US doesn't deal with
Sam bit his lip, because laughing
now, even smiling, would only make everything worse in the long run. “All right,” he said finally, promising
himself that he would have a word with Michael later about letting his
five-year-old watch those kinds of action movies. Again.