Dead Leaves Teaser #6!

*Heavy breathing* ohmigawd omigawd omigawd this is happening

One more day, my little eewoks!

Nomnomnom on this, will ya?

MAN WITH A MICROPHONE

A CEO, a television pastor, and a political pundit walked into a bar. They ordered six bottles of champagne for themselves and several pitchers of beer for their entourage. As the security detail and secret service agents got tanked, the three bosses left their stools for a secluded booth in the back.

At the front door, a huge post-World Wrestling Federation champion–turned–bouncer let beautiful people past a velvet rope for the cover charge of a mere $200 cash. A famous deejay spun famous hip-hop songs probably. Dealers worked the crowd, and prostitutes worked the dealers. The room pulsed…

Copyright 2017 Shannon Cooper

Dead Leaves Teaser #5!

EEEEE! We’re almost there! I am SO EXCITED! You can pre-order here and you will have this lil collection at your service at midnight Tuesday!

For the moment, sip on this tart mimosa…

I COME HOME

“I didn’t feel so bad till the sun went down,” she lamented. Her key dug into the lock of the driver’s door, then into the ignition. A roar. The crunch of dead leaves. A spray of dirt. An old Chevy Nova thumped its way back up to the main road and over the bridge. The early chill dusk closed in around the speeding car as it flew down a two-lane road.

“I still don’t feel all that bad,” she muttered. Janis yelled on the radio, wondered where her color tv was. Brown leaves fluttered across the road. A possum hadn’t quite made it across the tar river. She drove and drove and drove up and down the narrow ribbon. Darkness fell.

Gravel crunched. The Nova rolled and rolled down a long, sloping unpaved drive. Unseen from the night road, it slithered through a thick band of woods before unfurling onto an abandoned pasture. A smile curled her lips as twinkling lights reflected in her black horn-rimmed glasses. A silver Airstream trailer rocked and shook the strings of lights hanging from it end to end. She cut the headlights and coasted to a stop.

Copyright 2017 Shannon Cooper

Dead Leaves Teaser #4!

Happy Weekend, Babydolls! Dead Leaves is available for pre-order HERE (out on Tues July 18!), and in honor of Saturday, here is a lil breakie for you! (Don’t worry, these people are hungover too.)

TINY LITTLE GIFT

Meg, Luka, and three cats laid low in a stuffy studio apartment in a dirty sub-town of Boston, staring out the windows. The biggest cat pawed at the grimy glass, her fat fuzzy bottom barely balanced on the light blue, paint-chipped windowsill. A siren yelped briefly and breaks squealed a reply. Meg stubbed out a cigarette on the opening of a beer can and dropped the butt inside. She stretched a skinny, bare leg off the couch and arched, then flexed her foot. It was pale and blue veins popped up and receded with its movement. Her eyes closed again.

The clock on the VCR blinked in time to the swishing of the kitten’s tail.

Copyright 2017 Shannon Cooper

Dead Leaves Teaser #3!

Hello, darlings.

Dead Leaves drops TUESDAY July 18! You can pre-order HERE!

Swallow whatcha got, babes. This teaser is a mouthful!

HEAR A PIANO FALL

The house was silent except for the tick tock of the cheap white plastic clock on the kitchen wall. Dust danced in the beams streaming in through the kitchen window. A rustle on the breeze brought the occasional scrabble of squirrels in the backyard woods inside. The clock kept ticking.

Seven in the morning.

Three hours to go.

A zipper zipped, a snap snapped, leather scratched a table. A hollow door clicked shut. The garage door creaked and shrieked upward. A black Prius backed down the driveway with just the tin whine of its battery.

The clock ticked.

Fluorescent lights buzzed in between bursts of a power drill. A clerk smiled with big white teeth above a tight brown goatee. Thick arms enclosed a shopper’s arms and demonstrated how to hold the drill, how to engage and release the safety switch. His pelvis twitched forward and he inhaled deeply, then exhaled. Lips brushed skin. A discount was brokered. A deal was negotiated.

The black Prius pulled silently into the garage. A door slammed. Plastic bags brushed each other. The clock ticked 8:10 am. Crackle, crackle, swish. Footsteps on the basement steps.

A single bare light bulb tried to light the damp cavern. The clear plastic lid popped off the sump hole. Inside, nothing but pitch-black space. A faraway drip. A mouse scratched at the door to the bulkhead. A blade glinted in the dim light against the whetstone.

Copyright 2017 Shannon Cooper