Someday Always Comes, chapter 2 – excerpt

Someday Always Comes, chapter 2 – an excerpt

Fernando ran with a small, seemingly fearless posse of bodyguards and anyone who crossed him ended up dead, or worse, and trust me…dead was much better than worse. Dead is just dead. But Fernando’s worst was gruesome. Broken bones, missing teeth, gouged out eye, no tongue, missing foot, missing fingers, and a broken spine. I’m definitely not making that up. The dude lived, but not to talk about it. I’d rather be dead.

I didn’t like to stare at Fernando’s face for too long. His chilling eyes were a strange brown color that I can’t accurately describe. In the dim, florescent lighting of Duk’s, they appeared crimson-brown, like dried blood. When he looked at me, his eyes told the tale that he could brutally murder me and then observe my dead body for hours without remorse, wallowing in the quiet joy that comes after the orgasmic rush that murdering someone causes for the ruthless contact killer.

Copyright 2023 Wanda Paryla

Someday Always Comes, chapter 1 – excerpt

Hi all, this book is already published on Amazon for a long time now. It was proof-read but never had a professional edit. I am re-editing this book because the one complaint that stood out to me was that it was long, but even that criticism was often followed up with other positive comments similar to: despite the length…the passages always moved forward.

I had three great friends who proofread the book for me, and now with Storm Dwellers going to the editor, I have time to work on these edits. I would love to re-release this story after a professional edit. I’ve learned a lot about writing, editing and publishing since I wrote and released this book. One thing I’ve learned is to never, ever release a self-published book without a professional edit. Save the money – take an extra job, work overtime, beg your family, but never release unedited.

I’ve written a lot of things that I love, but this is my soul. Someday Always Comes is written in the First Person for a reason. My heart is in this book. It will never make me famous, but if one can birth a book, this is my child. Every emotion I’ve ever felt in my life is in this book. Someone asked me about ten years ago if this is based on a true story. No, it’s not…not really. They asked me if the characters were real people from my teen years. Maybe…maybe not. Really, anything is just coincident. For sure.

Once it’s nearing time for a professional edit, I will choose wisely, and I hope to turn to the original cover artist for an updated cover.

Most of you have probably not read it, and I have not posted about it here for years. As I said, I am just starting edits and I am only on chapter one. Here is a bit of chapter one…still raw…and maybe you’ll find some mistakes. Regardless, enjoy.

SOMEDAY ALWAYS COMES, chapter 1 – excerpt

“What you lookin’ at, girl?” Dino said, snarling his lip.

“Nothing,” I said. “I’m not looking at you.”

“Shut up, Dino,” Kiki said. “She’s not bothering you. I’ll make her breakfast and she’ll go to her room. Just quit it.”

We were silent for a minute as I studied the floor, trying to avoid looking at Dino but his powerful, icy stare was like a magnet, compelling me to glance at him.

“Watchin’ me, are ya, girl? Huh?” He glared at me through the long bangs of his dirty, long hair.

“No, I’m not. Leave me alone,” I said.

“You want some of this?” Dino gestured toward the bloody, rare but scorched T-bone steak on his plate.

The sight of its bloody juices mixed up with the scrambled eggs made me queasy.

“No.”

Dino smirked as he cut a piece of steak. He gave a perverse grin with his greasy lips.

“Sure you don’t want some of my meat?”

He taunted me with the sickening thing before putting it in his mouth.

“What? No.”

He stared at me the whole time, chewing, sneering like a devil-possessed possum. Blood oozed from the steak as Dino cut another piece of the meat from the center of it and jabbed his fork into it.

“Here, you want this?” He said, as he slowly leaned toward me.

Kiki stopped cooking, turning her attention on us.

“Stop it,” she said.

“No,” I said. “I don’t want it!”

He held the meat up in front of my face. His breath smelled of raw flesh and coffee and my guts wrenched.

“Here,” he said, “eat it,” he ordered.

Nauseous from extreme hunger, my stomach churned at the sight and smell of the mangled, bloody meat. I turned my face away and held my breath, trying to hold down the vomit boiling in my gut.

“I don’t want it.”

Dino plucked the beef from his fork with his grimy fingers then threw the fork down on the table. It bounced off and landed on the floor.

“Dino, leave her alone!” Kiki demanded. “She’s not bothering you.”

In a split second, he grabbed me by my hair and tried to force the half-cooked meat into my mouth and a struggle ensued. Kiki grabbed Dino’s hand that held my hair trying to free me. I fought against him. I squeezed my lips tightly together and frantically shook my head back and forth so that he could not force the thing into my mouth.

“Let her go, Dino!” Kiki yelled as she tried to free me from his grasp.

“Eat it, you little bitch!” Dino yelled.

I’m unsure if the chair I sat in gave way, or if Dino forced it, but it fell backwards taking me with it. My head hit the floor. Free of Dino’s grasp and fighting back the pain in my head, I jumped up and ran, tripping over my own feet. I headed for my bedroom, Dino stumbling behind me.

“Come on, girl!” He yelled.

I locked my bedroom door with the renter’s lock Kiki installed on it the summer before then slid the chain across. All that steel to keep the devil out of my room. I shoved a rectangular, rubber doorstopper under the door then backed away from it, shaking. I frantically looked for some escape, but we lived on the second floor with no easy way out.

“Mary Tessa, open this damned door!” Dino yelled.

“Go away! You rotten bastard!” I screamed. “Leave me alone!”

I slid my small dresser in front of the door, then grabbed my favorite book off the headboard of my bed, then ducked into the closet and closed the door. I closed my eyes, held my breath, and willed myself – or maybe forced myself – to be quiet so that Dino didn’t have the pleasure of hearing me cry.

Oh, Scarlett, tell me what to do.

Dino banged against the bedroom door. I feared for my life. I didn’t want him to get in. I squeezed my eyes tightly and covered my ears.

“Oh, God,” I whispered in the dark. “Go back to hell, demon.”

I sat there in the dark closet, trying to meditate my way out of the situation. I took deep breaths: I went out onto my window ledge, and sat there until a kindly, brave fireman came and rescued me from the place. In my opinion, out of all the people who allegedly care about other people, the firefighter is the most selfless. I secretly wanted to run away and hide in a firehouse where they wouldn’t let Dino hurt me.

Dino banged and kicked at my bedroom door, his combat boot landing hard against the heavy oak door. Die. Have a massive heart attack you monster and go to hell. Please, God. Kill him. Kill him.

“Dino, stop it!” Kiki yelled. “Why are you doing this?”

I sat on the closet floor for what seemed like forever. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t hovering near my bedroom door, listening; waiting for me to make a peep. I held on to my favorite bible, Gone with the Wind. My mother loved the story and I imagined she talked to me through Scarlett, teaching me to be a strong woman. Teaching me to fight for what’s worth holding on to and let go of the rest.

I desperately needed to get rid of the rich, revolting taste of the meat’s blood from around my mouth. I used my sleeve to try to wipe my face clean. Eventually, the kicking and cursing ceased, and I crept out of the closet. Crying quietly, I sat on my bed contemplating. Plotting what my life might be like if someday I got free of Dino and Kiki.

I looked forward to breakfast that day – a rarity in our household. I hadn’t eaten much for the prior few days. I only wanted a few bites of scrambled egg. Again though, I didn’t get anything to eat. I went back to my closet and rummaged around, pulling out a box of Pop Tarts and a can of Pepsi. The sugary treats were better than not eating anything at all.

My best friend, Brianna, gave me food and I’d hide it from Dino so that I could eat something when he didn’t let me stay at the kitchen table. I ate the three Pop Tarts that were in the box and drank the can of Pepsi, quite thankful that I had them.

I stayed low key, hiding in my bedroom for the rest of the morning to avoid them both. Playing Def Leppard low on my stereo and smoking cigarettes I stole from Kiki, I bided my time. Habitually by midmorning they usually engaged in drinking and smoking dope and hopefully I could sneak out.

On and off that morning, I heard arguments going on in the living room or pots and pans banging around in the kitchen. Eventually the yelling and noises stopped. Occasionally, I could hear the sounds of the phone or doorbell. With every ring or buzz, I prayed it was a way out of the apartment for me.

After a couple of hours, my inflating bladder compelled me to leave my cave. I needed to use the toilet, and Dino-be-damned if I’d piss in a pile of dirty clothes like I did the last time this shit happened. I slid the dresser away from the door and slinked into the bathroom on my tiptoes. I could hear the television playing loudly in the living room. I relieved myself, washed my face and hands, brushed my teeth then went back to my bedroom where I hid again peacefully for quite some time, lying on my bed, listening to the radio and staring at the ceiling. However, every good thing ends.

A huge argument developed between Dino and Kiki in the living room. I turned down the stereo so I could eavesdrop. I heard cursing, things being thrown about, and eventually Kiki in the kitchen banging cabinet doors and jabbering aloud, wishing Dino dead. Her mutterings and slurred speech told me she was drunk or high. Things got calm again and I turned my radio back up. I shut my eyes and listened to my stomach rumble.

“What the hell, Mary Tessa!” Kiki shocked me alert and I jumped off the bed. She yelled over what she pretended to be horribly loud music coming from my room as she pounded her hand repeatedly against my bedroom door. “Turn down that heavy metal trash! Don’t you have something to do on Halloween? I can’t stand you hangin’ around here all the damn time. For Christ’s sake, go out and do something!”

I’d been waiting for a window of opportunity all morning. I could leave.

“It’s only noon, Kiki!” I yelled.

“I don’t give a crap if it’s midnight. Go hang out with your boyfriend, Seth, or find something else to do!”

“Sweet’s not my boyfriend!”

Copyright 2023 Wanda S. Paryla

Storm Dwellers, chapter 6 – an excerpt

STORM DWELLERS, chapter 6 – excerpt.

Lynn stretched out on the couch to rest. As she drifted off, she heard her mom’s side of a phone conversation with Lynn’s father, Rob.

“Y’all get there without any trouble?” Angela asked. Then there was silence. “Uh-huh. I hope you can find those kids. It’s terrible, babe. Lynn told me a horrific story and I’m worried those kids might not be found.”

Lynn’s eyes fell on the grandfather clock in the corner. It was already noon. She watched the pendulum swing back and forth as her mother’s voice faded.

“What if they’re dead, Rob?” Angela worried. “For Christ’s sake. Oh, Jes-”

 The room grew dark as Lynn slipped to sleep. She floated in the darkness; her breaths kept time with the ticking of the clock.

A pounding thunder snatched Lynn from her nap. She awoke to the sound of glass vibrating, and the twinkling of the dining room chandelier as it swung. Flashing lights from outside nearly blinded her as they filled the room through the windows. She threw her arm up to shroud her eyes from the intense brightness and psychedelic colors. What is that? The police?

“Why would the cops be here?” She said to herself. “Mom!” Lynn did not get an answer. “Mom, you home? Is that the police?”

Again, no response. She ran to the window only to recoil from streaks of blinding lightning.

“Oh, God!” She cried. “No! No!”

Lightning bolts hit the ground leaving burn marks as tree limbs cracked off from their trunks and fell or were propelled away by the strong winds. The wind moaned and whistled around the doors and windows. Lynn heard the floorboards of the second floor creaking; someone was walking around up there.

“Mom, you upstairs?” Lynn shouted.

She whirled around and tripped over the coffee table, hitting her cheek on the corner as she timbered to the floor. She crawled to a corner of the room and huddled on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest.

“Mom, where are you? Help me!”

Lynn’s chest felt heavy; she sat up straighter, pinning her spine to the wall, trying to open her lungs.

“This isn’t happening. It’s just not.”

She started to hyperventilate, breathing heavily and shaking. It’s okay. It’ll be okay, she thought.

“It’s okay!” Lynn screamed, covering her own ears. “It’s…okaaay!” Her words emphasized with intent. “Stop!”

There was immediate silence. Lynn thought maybe she had suddenly fallen deaf. She heard nothing except her own heartbeat and breath sounds.

Thick, rancid air filled the shadowy, still room. Lynn saw the tree branches outside that were still swaying in the wind, but there was no sound. Her movements guarded; she reluctantly rose with her back still against the wall, then eased toward the large living room window. She peered again through the sheer curtain panel, then pulled it back a bit and peeked out. The dismal sky held no moon. She looked straight ahead, peering into the darkness.

“It’s noon, what is going-”

Something slammed against the window. Lynn gasped frozen in place. Terry?

Terry’s face frozen, eyes wide with fright, was held up by some unseen force; pressed against the glass and looking straight at Lynn, her eyes bulged from their sockets.

Lynn’s mouth opened to scream, but the sound was stuck within her. She stood paralyzed from the shock of seeing her friend, Terry, like this again. Over the sound of her own heartbeat, Lynn heard Terry screaming, but she could not be sure if it was real.

A power rose from Lynn’s fear and anger. She felt it, she shook, her muscles tightened, finally the words came.

“Stop it! Leave Terry alone! Leave her alone! I’ll get you! I swear, I will!”

Lynn’s hearing returned to normal. The image of Terry morphed into a monster, a hooded creature with melting flesh and pointy talons.

Lynn jumped back from the window and spun, scanning the room for a weapon. She grabbed a marble book end from a shelf and hurled it at the window which burst upon impact; shards of glass embedded into the creature’s flesh; it spit vulgarities at her.

“Enough!” Lynn jutted her palm outward, she felt energy flow from her, and the shards already embedded in the creature began to twist and gouge at its flesh.

The monster howled in anguish as it attempted to pluck out the glass pieces.

Lynn darted away, stumbling through the dim house, crashing into walls, and stubbing her socked toes on furniture legs. She tried light switches as she went through the house. Nope.

The rumbling thunder returned, as did the violently whipping lightning strikes which lashed around like live power cables. Rain poured down, pelting against the house and the windows, causing the windows to blur.

Lynn’s intention was to run into the kitchen, find a weapon of some sort, rolling pin, knife, anything, maybe even a flashlight. She made it to the foyer and stopped near the front door. A light seeped in from under the door; a fog wafted through the space from under the door and every other crack too…or so it seemed.

Lynn stood mortified. Slowly backing away her mental faculties slipping away – No, I can’t do this alone.

The ethereal fog crept forward and began encircling her. She regained her thoughts and continued into the kitchen. She went right for the knife set on the kitchen counter and grabbed the biggest one. She backed up against a wall as the fog filtered into the kitchen.

“This isn’t happening,” Lynn said. “Nope.”

She squeezed her eyes tightly closed for a few seconds in an attempt to will a change.

Lynn opened her eyes. “No such luck for you, Lynn. Shit.”

Copyright 2023 Wanda S. Paryla

Storm Dwellers, chapter 4 – an excerpt

STORM DWELLERS

Chapter 4, excerpt

It was quiet again in the SUV. Lynn turned to check on Darcy and found dozing; her head bobbing from the motion of the vehicle.

Lynn yawned. She was sure they had been driving the same road for hours, maybe even passing a few places twice. Round and round.

Something doesn’t want us to make it home, Lynn thought to herself. Damn rooster! Again?

For the third time, Lynn soared passed by a stationary red and black rooster, rooted in place like statue with the exception of a few feathers tousled by the wind.

Immediately after, she whizzed by a welcoming sight, a sign that read: Black Willow 10 Miles. Overcome with a sense of immense relief, her heart rate slowed as her hands loosened on the steering wheel.

“Finally! We’re almost home, Darce,” she whispered as she patted Darcy’s arm.

Lynn and Darcy spent most of their lives in Cameron County, Texas. Meeting in the first grade, they hit it off immediately as if they were meant to be friends.

Darcy walked up to join the line accumulating outside to enter Miss Julie’s first-grade classroom, and her eyes landed on Lynn. She was drawn straight to her, and she crossed the grass like a boss, jumping the line as she bounded up to Lynn.

“Hello, I’m Darcy. I think I know you.”

Lynn studied Darcy; head tilted. She smiled.

“I’m Lynn. I think you’re right.”

A gust of wind blew, shaking the tree leaves. Some children, parents and teachers alike lost their grip on papers and took off chasing them around the grounds. Girls and ladies giggled or hollered out as they fought to control fluffing skirt tails.

Darcy and Lynn watched the chaotic sight on the school grounds.

“I wonder why the grownups are so frustrated and chasing papers,” Lynn said. “They just need to calm down. Let those papers fly away!”

They laughed and had been inseparable since that day.

“I saw your mommy in my dream,” Darcy told Lynn the morning they met. “She sang to me in words I never heard before.”

“Nope. That ain’t right,” Lynn said. “You didn’t even meet Mommy yet. And she doesn’t sing in anything but English, silly.”

However, when Darcy met Lynn’s mother, Angela, she told Lynn that Angela was not the lady she had seen in her dream; she did not look anything like that woman.

“I told you so,” the young Lynn stated.

“Yes, but,” Darcy persisted, “she told me that she’s your mother. I promise.”

Lynn was unable to wrap her young mind around it at the time, but she never forgot that day, and she was always curious about the woman Darcy dreamed. They talked about it a few times over the years, but never in depth and they never wholeheartedly pursued the dream woman’s identity.

When they were older, they searched Lynn’s old family photographs to see if they could find the woman among them. Lynn and Darcy made plans to save money and have an artist draw the likeness of the woman from Darcy’s memory of the dream since she had no drawing skills of her own.

One day, right before they entered the eighth grade, Darcy and Lynn took an introduction to French class at the library.

“That’s the language the woman sang to me in!” Darcy exclaimed.

***

Sybil and Terry Mendez’s mother, Adelina, claimed a lineage dating back to the Texas statesman, Jose Antonio Navarro. Their father, Richard, on the other hand, did not talk much about his ancestry, in fact, he went out of his way to avoid discussion of his ancestry so often that even it left Adelina and her daughters wondering about it. When they would inquire about their paternal ancestry to their father’s parents and other relatives, they always got jokes and snarky remarks in return.

Their father’s maternal grandmother, Paz – who was still alive and kicking at ninety-four, always told them that their father enjoyed rebuffing the ‘ooga-booga’ side of the family.

As kids Sybil and Terry would run around hollering, “ooga-booga!” which in turn made their dad, Richard, quite unnerved.

Copyright 2023 Wanda S. Paryla