On Linda’s Desk

Linda never wastes a moment of her time – knowing full well that time can never be retrieved. She writes almost every day, often juggling two or three stories at one time. Linda believes that by switching gears, or flipping back and forth between books, keeps the momentum, opening the mind to creativity.

IN PRODUCTION:


Blackbeard’s Hidden Treasure

– by: Professor Scry

Blackbeard, the most notorious of pirates, wreaked havoc and plundered wherever he went. Davey saw Blackbeard as a hero and believed that he had used Nova Scotia’s harbours as his secret hide out, certain that it was where he had sailed the Queen Anne’s Revenge and where he had buried his treasures. Davey had planned to one day find the pirate’s hoard. Then, with those riches, he would buy himself a lobster fishing boat. But he was not in any hurry to dig up the treasure because he was only ten years old. In his mind the treasure simply awaited him, as it had for hundreds of years.

But when Clem, a stranger, moved into the abandoned cabin next door Davey became suspicious. Very soon evidence began mounting up and there were clear indications that the stranger was there to hunt for Blackbeard’s cache. A new spade on the porch and hand-drawn maps inside the cabin were significant clues. Suddenly it seemed that Blackbeard’s treasure was about to be stolen right out from under Davey’s very feet.

Fate had moved the hands of the clock forward and it was time for Davey to get out a spade of his own. Davey’s challenge was to outfox old man Clem by finding Blackbeard’s buried treasure first.


I Can’t Remember – by: Professor Scry

Five year old Amy Robinson lay under the wide boughs of an evergreen tree, cold, wet and alone. Amy had been knocked unconscious. Blood was oozing from the wound on her head. Clutched in her one hand was the arm of her rag doll.The doll and the child were mud-splattered. There was not another person around and the only sound was the drip, drip, drip of the raindrops as they dropped from the autumn-coloured leaves.

Next to Amy lay a wild animal, a wolf. During the night it had curled up next to her, seemingly sharing its warmth with the child. When Amy woke she saw the animal and thought it to be a dog. She petted it.

Amy had no idea where she was or why. She could not remember her name or any details of her past. Dazed and all alone, she looked to her left then to her right. In both directions the muddy road disappeared around the bends. When the wolf led her into the woods she followed.

There was seemingly nowhere else to go.


Măjitópiă – by Professor Scry

Professor Harris had, for decades, been secretly working to create a perfect being – a creature that could survive in even the worst of climatic disasters. If he had measured it correctly such a mortal would be able to live in the sea as well as on land and when the world was doomed might escape possible extinction. Now, as unbelievable as it sounded, it appeared as though someone else had out-foxed him at his own game and had developed one of those super beings. No one stood up and took credit, leaving him even more perplexed, and his suspicions rose even higher. When Harris daringly suggested that some alien civilization had created the perfect creature, he had guessed correctly and would have been shocked to know that ZëmKórians had long ago landed on earth. They came from ZëmKór with three tasks to accomplish. But, far more than learning who the creator was, Harris wanted to get his hands on one of those creatures, for certainly, if he had the opportunity to inspect such a being…well…he would be that much closer to creating one of his own.


PLEASE TEACHER

by: L.M. Wasylciw

Unconditional love is when two souls have a single thought, when two hearts beat as one. They dance to the same tune and sing the same song.

But hardest of all is when love is found in the wrong places.

Victoria had no idea, when she graduated from university, that she would not find a teaching position within miles of her home town. When a job came up in a small oil-town, in Alberta, Victoria jumped at the chance to experience a part of Canada that she never knew. She hoped that, in time, her parents would accept that not always did life turn out the way people had expected and quietly promised that she would one day return to Ottawa, Ontario. Victoria was young, pretty and naïve, and had never thought about the way in which young boys in her class would tease for her attention. Nor did she realize how it was every boy’s fantasy to win a attractive female teacher’s heart, enticing her to throw her career away for a sexual tryst. In Victoria’s innocence she had no idea how a touch or glance could quite easily be misinterpreted, labeling a teacher as a sexual predator.


 

LOVE NEVERMORE – by: L.M. Wasylciw

Steve swept into Alexis’ life, like a knight in shining armour, right after her Granny Mae had died and when Alexis was most vulnerable. Alexis was grieving. Consumed with sorrow, she vowed that she would love nevermore, however, when Steve came along and wrapped his arms around her those walls that protected her heart crumbled and fell. Steve was good looking in a rakish kind of way and Alexis welcomed him into her arms. It felt so good to be alive, to be loved and Alexis ever so gradually pushed her grief aside, making it so easy to love once again. Very soon she became servile, compliant and submissive. To many it appeared that she was a spineless wife with no dreams of her own because she did her husband’s bidding and served him dutifully. It was impossible for others to know what went on behind closed doors, hidden behind drawn curtains. Alexis had no idea how deadly love could be and never should have loved again.


IN THE PLANNING STAGES


12 1/2 Angels

– by: L.M. Wasylciw

Mario Flagstaff was dead.

No one, not even his best friend, Harold,

could have ever predicted that the multi-billionaire

would meet his maker by choking on a smoked gouda stuffed olive.

Non-believers snickered, thinking it to be a hoax – Mario pulling one of his funnies – though his jokes were never a laugh.

No one believed that Mario, a man so full of life  and his own big ego, would ever die.


IT’S NOT MY FAULT 

by: L.M. Wasylciw 

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THE SNAKE OIL ARTIST 

by: L.M. Wasylciw

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