Tag Archives: short story

Prologue to Harem Twins

Cover of the Book Harem Twins by Dolores Maria Davis

Cover of the Book Harem Twins

Egypt’s sun god Ra was rising in the eastern sky to cast his vibrant rays on the white walls of Pharaoh Amenhotep III’s grand new house. A newborn, about to arrive at sunrise in Pharaoh’s Harem, would foretell of exceptional heavenly influences.

The mother, Princess Attah of Mitanni, was twelve summers old. Her diminutive frame carried the belly of a hippopotamus. Gaunt and exhausted from slow labor, her birthing was half a moon cycle early, the baby large.

Maja, Attah’s only slave, tried to comfort her princess with damp cloths and soothing words as Attah suffered strong and rapid thrusts. Maja overheard two women sitting on their cots watching her princess struggle.

“The foreigner slept with Pharaoh but once, and is bearing his child. Luck is with her. She hasn’t even learned to speak in Egyptian yet,” one said.

The other pregnant woman said, “I feel sorry for her. No one has brought effigies of Goddess Hathor to bring the sweet north wind, or God Bes to aid her in her childbearing. The tattoo artist is coming in two Ras to paint my breasts with pictures of God Bes so the magic will be with me when I give birth.”

Slave Maja was on her knees at Attah’s cot asking all the gods she had ever heard of not to let her mistress die in childbirth.

Continue reading



Filed under Dolores Davis, Excerpts

Holiday Ravens

by Dolores Davis

Once there was a raven couple that followed Woman on her morning walks, because she fed them from a bag of treats. He was stout, with a hooked beak and a bold presence. She was smaller, cautious and demure. Woman named them Continue reading

Leave a comment

Filed under Dolores Davis, Short fiction

Saving Pennies

pennies-15727_640“A penny saved is a penny earned.” That’s what Grandma said every time she slipped me some coins. I had no idea what she was talking about. For me having pennies in my pocket meant a trip to the candy store to buy wax lips or Tootsie Rolls. But now that Grandma’s gone, her sayings keep coming back to me. Guess that’s why I started saving my pennies. You know, those pesky little coppers that clog up your change purse. I got out an old sock and every night I dropped in the pennies I’d collected that day. You’d be surprised how fast the sock got heavy. Grandma would approve, I thought….which shows you how much I know. Continue reading


Filed under Jean Shriver, Short fiction


owlPollyanna Prewitt followed her father up the cracked sidewalk to the dilapidated house on the edge of the graveyard. She stopped to tie her shoe.

“Come on, Polly, “Lester said. He set the shovel down, fished the house key out of his back pocket and waited for her. “It’s almost dark and the fog’s moving in.” Continue reading


Filed under Halloween, Mary Jo Hazard, Short fiction

The Third Floor – a true ghost story

Screen Shot 2014-10-19 at 7.06.27 PMGhosts don’t exist. They belong in the realm of fairies, goblins, hobbits, and other fictional characters. At least, that is what I believed until my trip to Italy.

I flew to Milan with the intention of staying at Pension Carrobbio, a three-story hotel near the Piazza del Duomo. My friend who suggested the place said there were rumors of ghosts on the third floor. Continue reading


Filed under Halloween, Lori Jones, short but true, Short fiction

Crossing the Cemetery on Halloween Night

cemeteryIt was a dark and stormy night. The rain had paused but the fickle moon often hid behind the thunderheads, plunging Morganville into Stygian darkness. As I neared the cemetery, my 1975 Hornet coughed, sputtered, and rolled to a stop. I did the usual things, but it wouldn’t restart. Another car approached, and I tried to flag it down. They just drove on by, tooting as if I’d wished them a happy Halloween. “Darn!” I said.

It was 6:00 pm. Fred’s Petro-Serve garage lay just the other side of the graveyard and was open till 6:30. I could walk the long way, or I could shortcut across the cemetery. The time saved might mean reaching Fred’s before closing time instead of finding the garage dark and deserted.

Many in Morganville said the cemetery was haunted, reporting groans and shrieks as they walked nearby. Ed Suggins claimed he’d seen eerie lights wafting among the graves one night. Not superstitious, I leapt and grasped the top of the wall, then scrabbled upward until I looked down into the darkness of the cemetery. I had no idea what lay below me, but grass was a pretty good bet. I jumped. Continue reading

Leave a comment

Filed under Halloween, Jeff Guenther, Short fiction

The Fairies of Garden City

In Science, one thing sort of leads to another. So it was with the Parallel Euclidian Eye-space Polarization Experimental Research Station. The theory is generally accepted, now, but in 2035 it was not generally believed that light could be polarized along an axis parallel to the motion of photons. Scientists were divided into two camps: On the one hand, Betterworth-Crippenly at Cambridge thought the theory “utter balderdash.” On the other hand, Continue reading


Filed under Jeff Guenther, Short fiction

The Muse

lampedusaIn June of 1984, I flew to Milan to attend a summer course at the Academy of Fine Arts. My college professor had suggested the Academy after spending a semester voicing his frustration over my lifeless portraits. “Tessa,“ he had pleaded. “Stop painting with your eyes and learn to paint with emotion.”

At nineteen, I took that to mean I lacked passion. Continue reading

1 Comment

Filed under Fiction

Princess Attah

Princess Attah who gives birth to the children in my novel, Harem Twins, reveals her journey to Egypt.


Mitanni Kingdom 1500 BC (Within the Babylonian Empire)

One day, Father summoned me to his throne and asked that I sit upon his lap. As he fingered one of my earrings, he spoke. “I am told that you received your days of the moon,” Princess Attah.”

I nodded and knew what was coming. My aunts had told me what Continue reading

1 Comment

Filed under Chapter, Dolores Davis, Excerpts, Fiction, Short fiction