SheStory & ConDFW

While Christine continues working on the sequel to Rowan of the Wood, we're keeping up with our preliminary promotional efforts as well. This weekend in Richardson (Dallas), Texas, authors Christine & Ethan Rose will make an appearance at ConDFW on Saturday, Feb 23 and Sunday, Feb 24th only. They will be dressed as Rowan and Fiana again while signing the few remaining copies of the preview edition of their book. This is the last chance to get a copy of this book until August!

Additionally, we're happy to announce that SheStory.tv published an interview with Christine. SheStory.tv is a new online magazine inspired to cover stories of women in history and women working today who are the embodiment of spirit and passion.

Please forward this to your friends and family inviting them to join our newsletter list and to submit their stories, poems, jokes, photos, etc. This is our twelfth Newsletter; if you've missed the first eleven you can view them at Archived Newsletters. Keep those submissions coming! We love to read your stories and poems!

Please visit our Social Media Newsrooms for the latest information and press coverage here: rowanofthewood.com/newsroom & bluemoosefilms.com/SMN

Speaking of Web 2.0, please remember to link to our blogs/vlog and bookmark them on sites such as Digg, StumbleUpon, De.licio.us, and Techorati. Subscription links at our website.

See you in cyberspace...

Allison Willows
Blue Moose Press

Short Story #1

Red Riding Hood: A Parody of Nathaniel Hawthorne's
Young Goodman Brown

by E. S. Hudler (www.loftlore.com)

Red Riding Hood set forth in the morning, into the dark, dank forest, but returned for her picnic basket and to give a final good-bye kiss to her husband, the woodsman. And Cutter, as he was called by those who had seen him work, waved good-bye while his other hand rested lightly on his gleaming ax.

"Oh, that I should have to leave you now!" cried Red Riding Hood. "My poor heart will burst forth lest I return soon to thee. My task, such as it is, need be done before the night's fall."

"Be thou blessed," issuied Cutter with the gleaming ax, "and pray return soon and tarry not!"

As she passed into the dark forest, she thought, "My poor Cutter," and her heart broke. "I grasp at hope that he will dream sweet dreams and not be with trouble. But no! No! I think he would be cut asunder if he knew my night's plan. But not to worry, for he is as stout as the trees that he daily fells, and I will lean on that strength that I know so well."

Twas a hard task she had chosen, though in truth someone had to do it. And down a dark trail, through thick forest most oppressive, her work began. Alone, with naught but her woven basket to keep her faint company, she traveled. Her steps were a singular intrusion on the black and heavy silence.

Twas late, and the sun was hidden behind a forest laden with gloom. She glanced to and fro as she thought aloud, "Who knows what evil lurks upon my path?"

As the twisted trail made yet another turn, in dark shadow there, lying along its side, was an old wolf. His color was as the ashes from a funeral pyre. She saw him to be the very likeness of an animal she had raised once, but that one had died...

Read The Rest of "Red Riding Hood: A Parody of Nathaniel Hawthorne's Young Goodman Brown"

Short Story #2

The Downstairs of Happiness

by Richard Ridyard

'I hate my boss so much, he's so smug with his huge mansion, his flash cars and his servants at his feet as soon as he clicks his fingers. I know he's having an affair with my wife. He doesn't think he'll get caught because he thinks he's untouchable, but he's not I'll show him.'

'Let me tell you a love story.'

I'm sitting in the American bar-diner on Mathews Street, on one of the high stools at the bar, working my way through my fourth Budweiser. Tonight I drink with a determined resolve, hoping to put some distance between consciousness and troubled thoughts. In front of me, above the inverted, suspended bottles, a neon Coca-cola sign stammers hypnotically, and I pretend it is all there is to notice. But through the dim lighting and a blanket of smoke an old man emerges to sit next to me. He buries a yellow, bony hand in the dish of peanuts that sits between us and plucks a couple to be carried to a wrinkled, gummy mouth. He orders a double Jack Daniels. He sips it and stares at it for a few seconds while he smokes a cigar and then turns to me.

'You looked troubled, son.'

I don't want to talk to anyone right now, let alone share my thoughts with a stranger. But to be polite, I offer a token explanation.

'Bit of a hard day at work, that's all.'

The old man nods wisely. His eyes become narrow slits as he draws from his cigar. Through the exhaled smoke he says:

'Nothing to do with a woman then?'

I swallow my beer a bit too heavily, wanting to cough but not wishing to show reaction to the old man's insightful probe.

'Maybe,' I tell him non-committally, and turn back to my beer, hoping the conversation to be over.

But it's not.

'Let me tell you a love story', he says angling himself in his seat so as to face me, and I know he is to tell it whether I wish to hear or not.

He begins.

And despite my reluctance, I listen.

'It was a long time ago now, back when I still had more years before me than behind; when growing old was something that other people did. Back then I had this shitty factory job. Eight hours a day standing in front of a conveyor belt putting together clockwork toys. Not a whole load of fun, I'm sure you'd agree.'

I match his wry smile.

'Well, I thought that if I could become educated, I could escape to better things. So I started going to the library. Every night, straight after work, there I was, a big pile of books around me, reading anything and everything. I didn't really have a plan, no sort of goal or idea of what I wanted to achieve. I just thought that if I saturated myself in all that knowledge, a bit of it would rub off. If I became clever, I wouldn't have to work in that factory anymore. You understand that?'

He pauses to drink whiskey...

Read The Rest of "The Downstairs of Happiness"

In This Issue latest news short story 1 short story 2 our links our blogs FREE stuff poetry

This is amazingly cool! The Japanese have developed a small video camera which shoots at 2000 frames per second. In the embedded demo movie, a yellow balloon has been filled with water and is then pierced with a pin. The balloon disappears from around the water!

Can't see the video? Go here. WMV only.

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