Homeless Man

Week 17 – 52-Week Writing Challenge
Word Prompt – “Dumped”
Based on a true event.

Angry and upset, Bradley strode from the office building. The meeting had not gone as he hoped. The marketing deal did not go through. Sam, his boss, would not be happy. Bradley decided not to prolong the inevitable and pulled out his cell. Head down, focused on his phone, Bradley didn’t see the man sitting on the sidewalk until he tripped over him.

“What the hell? You idiot! You better hope my cell phone isn’t broken!” Bradley jumped to his feet and checked out his cell, turning it over in his hands. The screen wasn’t damaged, but there was a small scratch on the titanium case.

“Son of a bitch! Do you have any idea how much this phone cost me?” He smirked at the unresponsive man. “Of course, you don’t. I’ll bet you know the price of the cheapest bottle of wine the liquor store sells though, huh?”

The disheveled man remained silent, but Bradley Harper noticed his shoulders slump. He leaned toward him.

The clothes he wore were not his own. The coat, too hot and heavy for summer, was at least two sizes too large. The pants stopped just below his calves, leaving his long, pale, ashen legs exposed. Ragged white socks covered his feet, but instead of shoes, he wore light slippers.

“What’s wrong with you? Can’t you talk?” The man said nothing. Bradley glanced around the trendy Inland Empire business square. People went about their day. No one paid any attention to them.

“The cops are good about keeping this area clear of your kind. How did you get this far downtown without being stopped?”

The man mumbled something, still not meeting Bradley’s gaze.

“Oh, great! A homeless drunk who makes no sense. I do not have time for this bullshit. I’ll let the cops deal with you, buddy.” Bradley backed away from the man, looking around the area for security. More mumbled words caught his ear. “Are you saying something?”

He tried to nod, but Bradley noticed the movement caused the man’s whole body to shake.

“I don’t have time for this! I need to get back to my office and find out if I still have a job.”

The man struggled to remove something from his pocket. Without raising his head, he thrust a handful of folded papers in Bradley’s direction.

Exhaling with a growl, the harried advertising executive shook his head, walked back to the man and took the papers from his outstretched hand. Bradley unfolded the thick bundle and read, his brow furrowed. Bradley’s eyes widened at the information the documents held.

“These are hospital discharge papers. Dated today.”

One nod from the silent man.

Bradley read on. “You’re Patrick Peterson?”

Another single nod.

“You spent the last three days in San Antonio Regional Hospital with pneumonia and they discharged you this morning.” Bradley frowned. “But how did you get here?”


“Van? A van brought you here? What kind of van? Why?”

“Hospital… van. No insurance.”

“Patrick? Are you telling me the hospital discharged you and dumped you on the street because you have no insurance?”


“Son of a bitch! Those heartless bastards! This can’t be legal! Damn! Patrick, I’m sorry about my-”

A violent coughing spasm wracked Patrick’s body. Bradley could hear the wet, phlegmy infection rattle in the gaunt man’s chest and throat. Patrick’s body convulsed. Bradley Harper thought the man might lose consciousness.

“You’re still sick. They dumped you on the street… and you’re still sick.” Bradley shook his head. “This is too fucked up for words.”

Patrick thrust his head back, gasping for air. The movement helped, and the coughing subsided, but his breathing was so shallow, Patrick rested his upturned head against the building taking in as much air as he could.

Bradley saw the chain around his neck. He waited a few more minutes for the coughing to stop.

“Patrick, were you military?”

“Yes. Marines.”

Bradley fumed. This was no way to treat someone who served their country.

“Why didn’t they take you to the Veteran’s hospital?”

“No beds.”


“Don’t want me… too much trouble.”

“You’re too much trouble for your family? What the hell?” Bradley caught himself and gave Patrick an inquisitive look. “Why does your family feel you’re too much trouble?”

Patrick hesitated. He clenched and unclenched his emaciated hands several times before allowing them to rest limply on the sidewalk.


Bradley wasn’t surprised by Patrick’s answer. “Are you violent?”

Patrick shook his head. “I… never… hurt anyone.”

Frustrated, Bradley waved the papers around like a mad man.

“Man, I don’t understand! If you’re not violent, how are you too much trouble? Why did your family just turn their backs? That’s some evil bullshit!”

For the first time since Bradley tripped over him, Patrick raised his head and looked Bradley in the face. The haunted look of the ex-Marine’s piercing, ice blue eyes shocked and saddened the concerned accountant.

“Because… I’m not myself. Voices… from that morning… fire fight. First Lieutenant. Sargent. Hollenbeck. All gone.”

Bradley watched as the distraught man’s eyes pooled with tears.

“It plays on repeat in my… head. No one… can make it… stop.” Fatigued from illness and conversation, the poor man slumped back against the building.

Compassion and anger battled inside Bradley Harper. This man served his country and watched his team die. He was blessed to be alive himself… to return home and live on the streets. Patrick Peterson deserved better. He deserved treatment. He deserved proper care. Patrick deserved respect, not to be treated like trash.

There was no way Bradley could walk away from Patrick. He had nowhere to go. Bradley knew if he abandoned the sick man, it would only be a matter of days before his lifeless body was found.

Pulling out his cell again, Bradley scrolled to Sam’s name and clicked Call. He wasn’t concerned with the customer inside the building or any damn contract. Bradley wasn’t even concerned about his job for the moment.

Sam Lemmer was a retired Marine and would know how best to help Patrick. It took little to send the former Captain off on a tangent about the country’s treatment of its military personnel. Meeting Patrick and hearing his story would be spark enough to set the decorated war hero into action.

Light snores caused Bradley to glance down at the abandoned man.

“Don’t worry, buddy. You’ll never sleep on a sidewalk again.”

Image from Google.

©Copyright Felicia Denise 2017


“A Few of My Favorite Things”

Nesie's Place


Tale As Old As Time

Historical Romance is a generic term for a wide and varied genre. Stories could be set in Arthurian Fiction, Ancient Greece, Tudor England, Westerns, during the Civil War, Pearl Harbor… the list is endless. Because of this, historical romances can require a great deal of research. Many committed followers of the genre hold authors to a high standard of authenticity. Fashion, language/speech, homes, politics, foods, furnishings… everything must be correct for the time period used or readers will show their disapproval with negative reviews.

I’m not quite so picky about certain details as long as there is an amazing story!

And you thought it was just a romance novel!

For a great many of us, historical romance means an English setting or English characters, usually in the Victorian, Elizabethan, or Regency periods (named for the ruling monarchy). These are three of the most…

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Minus One

Marriage Cert

Week 16 – 52 Week Writing Challenge

Perri Norton was exhausted. Her joints throbbed with each step. Beads of sweat ran down her back as she approached the parking garage. She should never have come alone. Perri should have told someone. She should have asked someone to come with her. Three blocks were a breeze for a healthy person, but for someone dealing with multiple chronic illnesses like Perri Norton, they may as well have been a mile.

It had been much easier to make the short walk when she’d arrived three hours earlier. Now, not only was the sun high in the sky, Perri was certain Los Angeles would record a new high temperature for this mid-August day. Combined with the slight incline back to the parking garage, Perri knew she could trigger a flare up which would have her immobile for days. She said a silent prayer as she reached her Lexus LX SUV.

Giving her car remote a click, Perri opened the rear driver-side door. A blast of heat hit her in the face, taking her breath away. The car’s interior was stifling. Another quick click started the car, and Perri was grateful she had remembered to leave the air conditioning settings on high. Sitting her bag on the back seat, Perri removed her linen blazer, grabbed her cell phone from the pocket, the manila folder from the side of her bag, and laid the blazer over the bag. Closing the door to give the car time to cool off, she turned and looked out at the Los Angeles skyline. Thick, brown smog hung over the city like a blanket. Perri could not wait to get back to the less oppressive environs of Brentwood. She loved the frenzied, cacophonous atmosphere of the shopping district, but it was humid, smoggy days like this that reminded her of why she moved away.

Her lips curved into a faint smile as she glanced at the Los Angeles Court House. The few hours she had spent there, and the exhausting walk back to her car was a small price to pay for what the folder held inside. She opened the car door and stuck her head inside. Satisfied with the cooler temperature, Perri slid into the driver’s seat and closed the door. A sense of euphoria washed over her as she stared at the folder. She opened it, removed the formal document and read the bold heading.


It was over. Leaning back against the seat, Perri ran her fingers over the paper. No more pretending.

No more phony smiles or empty promises.

No more sad, pitiful looks from family and friends.

No more dreaming of the day when her farce of a marriage would end. Today was that day.

She knew she should feel remorse or regret, but Perri had to stop herself from laughing out loud. She was giddy… happy, and she wanted to celebrate.

Sobering, Perri realized again no one knew where she was. It was no secret she had filed for divorce. The week after Marlena’s eighteenth birthday party, Perri hosted a small dinner party and made her announcement during the first course. No one was surprised. Most were relieved and applauded her decision to dump Parker. Her children were ecstatic.

But no one knew today was the official end to the Norton marriage.

However, they all knew Parker well enough to know he would never just agree to a divorce, and he had not made it easy for her. But as Perri prevailed and walked away, she still had the hope of a reconciliation between Parker and their children… children who had long ago reconciled their feelings for the father who all but ignored them. Had the twins, Daniel and Ethan, had their way, she would have sought a divorce seven years ago. The young men had had the misfortune to witness firsthand their father’s adulterous ways and wanted their mother as far away from him as possible. Having grown up in a household ripped apart by the ugliness of divorce, Perri assured her two oldest children that evening she knew of their father’s after work “activities”, and she could handle it for the time being.

A few short months away from their twenty-first birthday, and less than a year away from their college graduation, Perri’s boys argued that she should at least start the proceedings and they would return after finishing school to help with their two younger siblings. She remembered the pride she’d felt seeing the seriousness in their faces. Perri wasn’t in the habit of explaining herself to anyone, but her children were the life’s blood that kept her going. It had taken most of the evening, but her boys understood and had promised not to confront their father. Ethan was even complimentary on her way of thinking, saying he almost felt sorry for anyone who was silly enough to underestimate her.

Underestimate. The word brought Margaret Gower Bradford front and center to Perri’s mind. The unsympathetic family matriarch was adamant Perri caused all her own problems. From her straying husband to her chronic health issues. If Perri had done enough, given enough, been enough, none of her problems would exist. Margaret didn’t even see them as problems, but more like Perri’s issues. She had cautioned Perri to not even consider divorce. Marriage was forever in the eyes of God. This sentiment from a woman who had been divorced for forty years, refused to remarry, and still found a reason to fight with Maynard Bradford anytime they were in the same zip code.

No, Perri would not be calling her mother anytime soon.

She thought about her small, close group of friends — or the “old broads” as she liked to refer to them. They hated that label. Tory, Sarah, Connie and Valerie were always the cause of Perri’s fits of hysterical laughter. None of the women had an OFF button. No subject was sacred and anyone with a pulse was fair game for their biting, caustic remarks. She picked up her phone and dialed Tory’s number, but hit End instead of Call. A celebration with the girls would involve a long evening with way too much alcohol. Better to save that party for the weekend. She’d call them all later and set it up.

Glancing down at the court documents again, Perri knew there was only one person she wanted to call. The only person who knew all she had gone through and understood. The only person who was always there giving her emotional support. Her fingers hovered over his name on her contact list. She hadn’t told him about this morning’s court date. He would be upset. He would have offered to go with her.

Perri dropped the phone onto the seat. She would not tell him over the phone, but he would be the first one she told. After all the years he’d held her together when she thought she was at the end of her rope, she owed Grayson that much.

Easing the car into the flow of mid-day L.A. traffic, Perri focused on the task at hand… surviving the drive home. No one could maneuver the crush of downtown traffic or its many surrounding freeways unless they were a bit unbalanced, and she fit right in for sure today. Perri couldn’t name the light, bouncy, but apprehensive feelings that buzzed just under her skin. It didn’t matter. She liked it. She liked it a lot.

She felt free.

©Copyright Felicia Denise 2017

What Are You Reading? #FreeReads

Open Book

Read any good books lately?

What books held your attention and reinforced your belief that reading is the best thing ever?

How about online reads?

I have three worthy recommendations from WordPress authors and bloggers for you!

Thief of Dragons cover

Thief of Dragons: The Echelonites of Cauldex

In what she calls an Alternate-Earth, Erotic SciFi Fantasy, hybrid author A.C. Melody delivers a tightly woven story of intrigue and mystery.

Outcast Roehn Cayen prepares to return to Cauldex and take her rightful place among the smug family who found her lacking and so callously tossed her aside. However, before her journey even begins, Roehn learns her trip to Cauldex would be futile. She’ll never see her family again. Choosing a different path, Roehn does return years later in disguise with a different plan of action and draws the immediate attention of Arcylaen, the Dragon’s Head and leader of the Thirteen Dragon Houses.

That’s when this interesting read becomes a page-turner! Fortunately for new readers, the story has sixteen generous installments already posted.

Stop by and visit Cauldex soon. The world building and attention to detail are captivating!


A to Z Challenge Badge


For her 2017 AtoZ Blogging Challenge Marquessa Matthews pens Living to Die.

After her overbearing husband leaves her for a younger woman, middle-aged Kate Reynolds settles into a routine life where she merely exists. A devastating health diagnosis floors Kate. In shock, she doesn’t know what to do or who to tell – so she does nothing. New friend, Meghan, drags Kate from her pity-party and convinces her to live for today – and sends her on a trip to Hawaii to clear her head and actually make some plans for her future, starting with getting a second opinion. During her trip, several thought-provoking and interesting encounters help Kate rediscover the women she buried deep inside so long ago.

Please don’t for a second believe this to be a dark, morose, chick lit story full of foreshadowing and messages.

Are there messages? Yes. But, there’s also a pervy married guy, mismatched couples, a wise old granny, a hunky, helpful surfer-type guy, and flying cockroaches! And we’re only up to letter K!

You’ll also find dozens of other great reads on this still unpublished author’s blog. Something her many fans hope changes soon!


Eternity Acts cover

The Eternity Acts

Newcomer, Jordan C. Robinson‘s debut is a major undertaking worthy of your time!

The Whisperer Rayon cursed his villagers, summoned a Wall of Fire and created a Burning Sea to mold his kingdom into a place he deemed worth living in.150 years later and the Whisperer Rayon is gone, but his acts remain. Will the villagers, whose curse changes them by night, be able to overcome the acts of this twisted madman to create a society free from his acts? It may take centuries, but a new King, an ex-slave, and the last Whisperer will certainly try…

The author updates this science fiction fantasy every Wednesday and Saturday.

In addition to the online main story, there are currently fourteen side stories happening simultaneously. The shorts focus on other members of the kingdom of Elodine, how The Acts affect them, and which side they will choose in the coming rebellion. The author has published the shorts as Eternity Acts Short Stories: Era 1 and they’re permanently FREE through Amazon.


Do yourself a favor and stop by these amazing online reads today. You’ll be glad you did!


You’re welcome – enjoy!



You’ve Played the Game, Now Read the Legend! #Spotlight #ChildrensBooks

Rock Paper Scissors

“The Legend of Rock Paper Scissors”

by Drew Daywalt (Author) and Adam Rex (Illustrator)

Genre: Children’s Books/Fairy Tales/Games

Release Date: April 4, 2017

Amazon               Goodreads

From New York Times bestselling creators Drew Daywalt, author of The Day the Crayons Quit and The Day the Crayons Came Home, and Adam Rex, author-illustrator of Frankenstein Makes a Sandwich, comes a laugh-out-loud hilarious picture book about the epic tale of the classic game Rock, Paper, Scissors.

You’ve played the game. Now read the legend of how it all began . . .

Long ago, in an ancient and distant realm called the Kingdom of Backyard, there lived a warrior named ROCK.

Meanwhile, in the Empire of Mom’s Home Office, a second great warrior sought the glory of battle. And his name was PAPER.

At the same time, in the Kitchen Realm, in the tiny village of Junk Drawer, lived a third warrior. They called her SCISSORS.

These three were the strongest, smartest, and fastest in all the land. Time and again they beat the most fearsome opponents they could find: an apricot, a computer printer—even frozen, breaded, dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets! But when the warriors finally meet each other, the most epic round of battles begins . . . and never ends. That is why, to this day, children around the world honor these worthy adversaries by playing ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS!