Monterey Shorts Reviews of Monterey Shorts

Praise for Monterey Shorts!
 

"There's a distinct flavor of life on the Monterey Peninsula in this eclectic collection of stories. The mindset is there, sometimes nostalgic, sometimes adventurous, and sometimes just weird, but you come away having been entertained and with the smell of the bay in your hair."
          ---Christopher Moore
 

        NY Times Best selling author of Lamb and The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove
 

"These stories are like time capsules filled with memories waiting to be discovered."
                                                                        ---Robert Irvine
 

                                                                       Author of the Moroni Traveler series
 

"Monterey Shorts charms, chills, intrigues, and entertains. These ten authors have created a collection of stories that is a pleasure to read and one that is full of revelations about the Monterey Peninsula area they call home. Enjoy!
                                            ---Steve Sharon
 

                                           Screenwriter of the Clint Eastwood film, The Dead Pool
 

"Makes you want to read on...."
 

                                                                        ---The Monterey County Herald
 

"The stories in Monterey Shorts capture the mythical flavor and real details of the Monterey Peninsula -- through ten sets of eyes. Some stories use the landscape as just a jumping-off point, others for the heart of the story. It's the next best thing to being there."
                                        ---Kevin J. Anderson
 

                                      NY Times Best selling author of Dune: The Butlerian Jihad
 

"Like any collection of works [Monterey Shorts] varies from mediocre to impressive - but one has to admire [these] FWOMPers..."
                                                                                 ---John Snider
 

                                                                              Editor of scifidimensions.com
 

"Widely diverse in subject matter and style of writing --- spellbinding, funny, fantastic, mysterious, nostalgic, suspenseful --- the stories are all well written..."
 

                                                                                ---The Carmel Pine Cone
 

"[Monterey Shorts] makes fun reading, especially to those who recognize the shops, streets, and coffee-houses where the stories are set."
 

                                                                                      ---The Coast Weekly
 

"When it comes to writers, the Monterey side of the bay has its own good share of the blessings."
 

About the Authors

Walter E. Gourlay

 

A native of New York City, WALTER GOURLAY moved to the Monterey Peninsula after retiring from teaching at Michigan State University. He has a doctorate in Chinese History from Harvard and has done considerable academic writing. Before his teaching career, he was a freelance writer for men's adventure magazines. For some time he worked in public relations, and managed a concert hall in New York. He has now returned to writing fiction. A founding member of FWOMP, he belongs to the local chapter of the National Writers Union. The Pebbles writing group in Carmel, of which he is also a member, has recently published two of his short stories in a collection. He's now writing his wartime memoirs and researching a historical novel set in New York City, Java, and Japan during the Napoleonic Wars. Walter lives in Carmel, California.

 

Mark C. Angel

 

After nearly twenty years as an emergency services professional, MARK C. ANGEL has worked in ambulance services, firefighting, ocean rescue, disaster response and community emergency preparedness. A volunteer with the American Red Cross since high school, he most recently spent three weeks in New York City assisting with disaster relief efforts. In his spare time, he practices Tai Chi and volunteers as a scientific diver with the Monterey Bay Aquarium. He has a bachelor's degree in psychobiology and music from the University of California at Santa Cruz, and has traveled and dived extensively on four continents. Mark is currently in the process of publishing his first novel, Rexriders.

 

Pat Hanson

 

PAT HANSON has a doctorate in Community Health, a nine-page resume, is a veteran health and sexuality educator, Chair of the Santa Cruz/Monterey Local 7 of the National Writers' Union, and owns her own consulting business, Health Matters. Her hobbies (when she allows them) include film, Tai Chi, new thought spirituality, sunbathing and tub-soaking.

 

Shaheen Schmidt

 

As the saying goes, "Beauty is only skin deep." And as a beautician, SHAHEEN SCHMIDT doesn't just do people's hair. She is an expert at dealing with the proverbial "bad hair day". Her talent for knowing about interesting local activities and events, aimed at improving one's mind, body and spirit, has proven invaluable to Shaheen's friends and clients. Living nearly twenty years on the Monterey Peninsula, she has experienced much of what the area has to offer for a lifestyle makeover. Shaheen has an insatiable interest in the arts, and is an accomplished painter, photographer, videographer and dancer. Now, as a founding member of FWOMP, she makes her writing debut with "A Place to Heal."

 

Mike Tyrrel

 

MIKE TYRREL is the grateful husband of a fine wife and the proud father of two daughters who have turned their home into a resting place of homeless lizards, snakes, birds and other creatures. Because the Tyrrel household doesn't have a television, Mike tells them adventure stories nightly, one of which is included in Monterey Shorts. Mike has worked with computers throughout his 30-year career. He designed and currently oversees the software in a factory that builds an automobile that typically wins the annual award for best American-made compact automobile/truck. It did exactly that in 1999, 2000, and 2002.

 

Ken Jones

 

KEN JONES moved to the Monterey Peninsula in March of 2001, after retiring from the Boeing Company. He and his wife, Southern California natives, felt a growing attraction to the Central Coast for many years, which became too powerful to resist during a visit in the fall of ‘99. Ken's working career involved a great deal of technical and business writing, but he began writing for pleasure in 1985, focusing mainly on short story fiction. Ken is an active member of the California Writers Club as well as several other area writers groups. He and his wife, Anne, live in Pacific Grove with their deaf, one-eyed cat Lucky.

 

Lele Dahle

 

LELE DAHLE grew up on the Monterey Peninsula. An early love for reading led to her interest in writing. She has written many short stories and is currently working on a first novel.

 

Byron Merritt

 

BYRON MERRITT lives in Pacific Grove, California, and works as a full time emergency room nurse and part time writer. He's taken first and third places in local writing competitions and has posted numerous science fiction stories/articles on the Internet at various webzines. He says that he derives much of his writing abilities via his genes; his grandfather was the internationally best-selling author Frank Herbert of Dune fame. Byron is currently working on multiple science fiction and fantasy short stories, novels, and novelettes.

 

Chris Kemp

 

CHRIS KEMP is . . . well, a writer. His day job is as a technical writer for Starfish Software, he runs a side business as a public relations and marketing communications consultant, and his hobby is authoring what he calls "a subtle breed of supernatural fiction." Teenagers and young adults figure heavily in his story cycles, one of which concerns an unusual family that lives in a fictional town (Palo Pacifica) based on Pacific Grove, California. A story from that series, "Resurrected," is presented here. Chris lives in Pacific Grove with Linda, his lovely wife of over twenty years. He holds a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English from Cal Poly, San Luis Obispo, and is a charter member of FWOMP.

 

Frances J. Rossi

 

FRANCES J. ROSSI believes her insatiable need to write must stem from her 16th Century French literary ancestor, Etienne Pasquier, known for his encyclopedic historical work, Recherché de la France. In keeping with that tradition, she has written several articles for publication on the history of the Church. As a fiction writer, at age 8 she made her debut in the neighborhood with a novella about an alley cat, but "A Flash of Red" will be her first published story. Frances has worked as Director of Religious Education in Catholic parishes in Western Colorado, as well as on the Monterey Peninsula. She lives with her father, Robert Paquette, in Pebble Beach, and is the mother of three grown children.

Sample of my story that's in Monterey Shorts:

 

Monte-Ray Gunn
by Byron Merritt
 

   Of all the Alien Enterprise Zones in all the galaxies, I had to pick Monterey, California. Of course there are other AEZ's on Earth: one each in New Turkey, Shanghai, Rio de Janeiro, and two more in the good ol' Independent States of America, one in the Florida Keys and another in Fargo, North Dakota. I'll never understand why Fargo was picked. Somebody told me once it was because of linguistic variables or some such thing.
   Who knows.
   But, hey, that's none of my business. As a detective for MAH — Monterey Alien Homicide — my job keeps me fairly isolated in this incredibly diverse community. 
   Captain Terry Bryce,  my C.O., woke me up today before the crack of noon, startin' me off in a foul mood. I'd been up late last night drinkin' Procyon micro-beer and eatin' live Purcovian Tschk! (I'm not exactly sure what Tschk! is and I don't care. They taste good and don't run away particularly fast when you try to eat them, that's all that matters to me). 
   I also learned not to say Tschk! in front of others last night when a large opaque Tlinolian sat next to me and I ordered a third round for myself. Saliva left my mouth — involuntarily of course — and set off one helluva brawl . . . which started a terrific headache that's still with me this mornin'.    
   After leavin' the 400 tier apartment in Seaside where I bunk my tired hide, I travel downtown aboard a floater that wings itself to the top of the MAH Strata-Building on the Washington Flyway. Cloud cover is below the 200th tier so I'm greeted with sunshine as I step out of the floater's oval passenger belly and duck underneath its bat-like wings, their capacitor cells hummin' with the charges they receive from the wind currents of the Monterey Peninsula. The overly-brilliant reflection of sun off the glass of the floater feels like splinters in my head, as I inadvertently glance back after exitin' the craft.     
   I don't like the sun. Never have. Especially after a  night of drinkin' and Tschk! eatin'. Unfortunately my apartment lies well above the fog and cumulus, but it's the only thing a lowly detective like myself could afford. Although two-million world-credits ain't too bad considerin' housin' costs around here.  
   I grab a newsdisk from a hover-dispenser, shove it into my shaded eyeglass monitor and watch the news as I descend in a digivator to the 95th level. These news people need to get a life. They're still talkin' about this millennium quant-computer bug. For Corsicans sake! Get over it! The year 3000 rolled over three weeks ago!
   "145th tier, Mr. Gunn," a sexy voice announces. I grunt for the digivator to continue. It was nice of Digi to tell me. She knows I like to stop for Roolusian coffee on that level, but not today. I drank two pots before leavin' my place and besides, I've got to get into work and find out what's so damn important that I start early. 
   The digivator shimmers and I step off onto the main tier of MAH. "Have a great day," Digi says as I step off. 
   "Thanks doll," I reply and watch her doors vaporize as she heads off to pick up the next transport. 
   Captain Bryce's office is on the other side of this expansive level and, unfortunately, all the personnel lev's are in use so I have to use my feet to get there. Oh well, it'll give me time to finish my newsdisk. 
   As I walk, the scenes and text from the newsdisk whip by my glasses. Oh for the love of Sirius! I can't believe these politicians are still bickerin' about buildin' a second floater zone into Carmel Valley. Last week it took me two minutes to get from Monterey to the mouth of the valley. I remember when it used to take thirty seconds. "Build the damn thing," I mutter to myself. 
   I finally enter the cramped, cluttered office of Captain Bryce and find her sittin' at her desk talkin' to a cup of coffee. I think she's been at this job too long. 
   "Detective!" she squeals in that high-pitched voice of hers and embraces me with a powerful hug. Her orange and olive-spiked hair jabs me in the nose and mouth and I spit it out. Last week it was purple and gold. I can't keep up with her changes or her husbands; she's got sixteen of ‘em and an equal number of hair spikes. She adopted the polyandry and free-lovin' theorem from the duck-billed Troskonians in the Ofarum galaxy, as did a few million other humans. I ain't one of ‘em.   
   "What's the big idea?" I ask, gruffly. "Why you wakin' me up so early? It ain't even eleven o'clock yet."
   I darken my glasses and crunch down into a nearby levchair. I feel the caress of air around my butt as I continue to spit out colorful strands of hair that taste like the kitchen floor in my apartment. Don't ask how I know that. 
   I look up at the captain and she's got her bottom lip stuck out and her red scaneyes lookin' at the floor. I'm a sucker for women who pout.
   "Knock it off already!" I say. "You know I hate it when you do that."
   She smiles, sits in my lap and gives me another hug, fillin' my nose and mouth with her damn pelt again. I rasp tryin' to get rid of the stuff and push her to her feet. She doesn't seem to notice the displeasure her jabbing hair causes me. 
   Dames.
   "I'm so glad you're here, Ray," she says while bouncin' around her office watering the multitude of plants surroundin' us. Some look pretty mean so I keep my distance. "I have an assignment for you." 
   She winks at me and smiles as she watches me tuck my crumpled shirt into the a-little-too-tight pants I threw on. She sighs wistfully.
   "What this time?" I ask sarcastically. "Another lost Andronian fish?" 
   I ain't had a real case since I got here. There's not much crime around Monterey with the camsats and genetic restructurin' done to weed out unwanted tendencies. Personality changes are available to any who request it through the reformation centers that dot this sector of the Milky Way. I don't let anyone mess around with my head, although Captain has reportedly had several enhancements that make her more pleasant to work with.       
   Yeah right.  
   "No, silly," she says puttin' down her water jug. A nearby plant picks it up and eats it. I pretend not to notice. I look at her red eyes and watch them light up, burnin' into mine. I look away, my head still achin'. 
   Then she says somethin' that catches my limited attention: "A murder!"