Two modern magic mystery tales.
“The Priestess and Her Strobe Light Burden”. A ghost story based on a family’s mysterious and often tragic history. Where are the fathers? One woman finally breaks the cycle, but must take charge and exact retribution after a terrible accident.
Features plot twists that will appeal to readers fed up with the modern traffic scene.
“Physician to Precarious Longings”. A hanky-wringing, bring-tears-to-your-eyes romance. More literary, poetic and sentimental than Mr. Carrick’s usual. One comment: “Astonishingly rich, sumptuous writing.”
It’s a warm-hearted story, allowed to develop at its own pace, that will surprise and move you.
Mr. Carrick is a critically-acclaimed author whose story “The Size of the Skip” – found in “Three Scoops” Is A Blast! – was short-listed for the 2010 Lorian Hemingway Short Story Award. In 2011, he received another Honorable Mention in the world-renowned Hemingway competition for “Caboose Follies”, which appears in “Four Scoops” Is Over The Top.
Excerpt
Early spring, Barrie, Ontario:
The first officer on the scene struggled to come up with a reaction.
He thought it wasn’t much of a “scene” per se and there might not have been a crime.
This sort of thing was a common occurrence.
It would have to be checked out, nonetheless.
What a bother on his day off.
What was perhaps most unfortunate was the location. It mattered as much as the event.
The police were always finding abandoned cars. Their hulks were likely to appear almost anywhere.
This time, though, the vehicle in question was a Mercedes C-Class sedan.
Regardless of the year or condition, that wasn’t the kind of automobile that got left behind very often.
Yet there it was, sitting bold as daylight at the back-end and bottom of the quarry.
Anybody could have cut through the chain on the flimsy gate and deposited the car, stolen or otherwise.
Upon reflection, the entrance was still intact when the officer reached the grounds early that morning.
He remembered getting out of his own standard-issue vehicle and using a key on the padlock.
Maybe somebody had found access from an adjoining property. He’d check that out in a minute.
Could it be there was a body in the trunk? Or was the car used for a getaway in a robbery?
It wouldn’t do to get lost in speculation.
He’d start by running the plates. Hopefully, they’d be in the system and the matter would be quickly resolved.
Almost assuredly the location would turn out to be a coincidence.
The gravel pit was used as a police firing range throughout the week.
That’s why the officer was there, to shoot off a few rounds in a spot that was perfectly safe.
On the floor of the quarry, the sandy and stone-pitted walls would absorb any stray bullets.
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