He was a decent dancer and I guess I was too.  We Fevered and YMCA’d until last call so when he inquired, I eagerly scribbled my phone number on a Cover Girl-smudged cocktail napkin.     An ostentatious-orange Corvette drove up to the curb which, to be blunt, was the first mark against him.  Not my favorite color or  set of wheels.  Attired in a loud, polyester dress shirt and cream-colored, wide-wale corduroy pants, his sartorial flare gave me pause.  When he turned to escor

When we arrived in Paris, and before driving to our home in Saint Jeannet on the Côte d’Azur, I thought we would enjoy a couple of days...

Today I met a man who calls himself a pediatric surgeon; his area of expertise is decapitations. He assured me he does not do...

When I finished Yellowface's eleventh chapter by R F Kuang, my armpits were sweaty, and my mouth was dry. I was astounded because, after...

I recently spent a week in a rented apartment in Rhode Island. The place had the requisite smattering of nautical décor, but mostly the...

In the reviews I’ve done thus far, I’ve spotlighted indie authors or debut publications. E Ethelbert Miller is not in that category. A...

Are you thriving? The social pressure to flourish—to be living life to the full, to be happy with life and love and work, to be seizing...