Dianne Hollander
Foster, James W.
ISBN 13: 9781897381205
Paperback; perfect bound; 5.5 x 8.5
Sample Excerpt © Rain Publishing Inc.
1
A single wisp of white cloud broke up an otherwise flawless, blue sky over the isolated, little town of Vollmer's Hollow. It was late spring and the school aged children were anxiously awaiting the beginning of the summer holidays.
A young girl trotted along a quiet back street at a pace that was half walk, half run. The hard soles of her shoes made a loud, CLIP, CLAP, CLIP, CLAP, as they made contact with the sidewalk. Her breath came in exaggerated gasps as she progressed. She was plagued by asthma, although on this day it had given her no trouble at all until she had realized that she had forgotten her puffer.
Little Dianne was built rather awkwardly. Top heavy, her shape and mannerisms were more that of a little boy than a little girl. She couldn't really be described as obese, but she was stocky. She had long, wavy, auburn hair, and strangely magnetic eyes. People who talked to her were always drawn to those eyes, a strange shade of bluish green, almost aqua. Other than these eyes, her features were unremarkable. The squarish line of her jaw made her appear slightly masculine. If her face was only slightly more rounded she might have been pretty.
Dianne was wearing a plaid blue jumper over a white blouse with slightly ruffled sleeves and she was clutching a small stack of books close to her chest. Her knees were scabbed and grass stained.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dianne hated wearing dresses. Even at this young age she thought that they were ridiculous outfits and she looked awkward and uncomfortable in them. She always had to be careful how she sat so as not to expose her panties. Dresses also made playing baseball or football very difficult. If she fell, the boys could see her underwear and then they would tease her.
Dianne had protested to her parents on more than one occasion about having to wear dresses to school, but to no avail. As far as they were concerned, it was only proper for a little girl to dress like a little girl, and that meant dresses. She tried to explain her difficulties while playing with the boys at recess.
"Dianne, you really should be playing with the other little girls at school. Sports are better left to little boys than to little girls."
Although she kept from showing it, (she was very good at hiding her feelings) that statement had infuriated her. Life would be so much easier if I was a boy, she thought.
As she continued to make her way along the sidewalk that bright afternoon, Dianne came across a baby bird that had fallen from it's nest in a nearby tree. She stopped and looked down at it, and as she did her asthma worsened as it always did when she became excited.
Pathetic little thing, she thought, and she felt a rage well up inside of her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As she watched the bird, her head trembled slightly from side to side. Her bright, aqua-ish eyes fixated on it, and for the moment, at least as far as she was concerned, everything else around her ceased to exist. She found the helplessness of the little creature to be infuriating. Intolerable.
She moved a step closer to the bird and raised one foot. Then with as much force as she could muster, she stomped on it. She could feel small bones crunching and a smile crossed her lips. Then she ground her heel down on the dead bird, and again this pleased her.
For the moment she had entirely forgotten about her asthma. She was breathing just as quietly and evenly as any normal girl her age would while sunning them self on such a fine day.
With the knowledge that the bird was dead, her anger faded and she resumed on her way home. CLIP, CLAP, CLIP , CLAP. Her asthmatic huffing returning after only a few strides……….
2
Sparky Richards could only gape when the behemoth first walked into the gym. The man he was looking at was 6’9” and easily three hundred pounds. Of course, even this already impressive size would be exaggerated when his training was complete and he was introduced by the announcer before he stepped into the ring.
Sparky had been expecting him. “You’ve got to see this guy,” Gus Daniels had told him. “He’s a giant! Even if he can’t wrestle he’ll sell tickets.”
Gus was the wrestling troupe’s promoter. He had stumbled onto the big man at a circus side show where Malcolm had been performing as a strong man.
The man’s name was Malcolm Howard which was a rather unintimidating moniker to say the least for a man of such intimidating stature, but that was an easy fix. They could give him a new ring name once they got him out on the road.
“We’re probably going to have to do something about his face too,” Gus had warned.
“Why? What’s wrong with his face?” Sparky asked.
“Well, it’s sort of ... gentle looking.” Gus said. “It’s hard to explain, you’ll have to see for yourself.”
Sparky did see. As scary as Malcolm’s size was there was a calmness to his features that gave him a relaxed look which was non-threatening. A mask will fix that, Sparky thought….
Foster, James W.
ISBN 13: 9781897381205
Paperback; perfect bound; 5.5 x 8.5
Sample Excerpt © Rain Publishing Inc.
1
A single wisp of white cloud broke up an otherwise flawless, blue sky over the isolated, little town of Vollmer's Hollow. It was late spring and the school aged children were anxiously awaiting the beginning of the summer holidays.
A young girl trotted along a quiet back street at a pace that was half walk, half run. The hard soles of her shoes made a loud, CLIP, CLAP, CLIP, CLAP, as they made contact with the sidewalk. Her breath came in exaggerated gasps as she progressed. She was plagued by asthma, although on this day it had given her no trouble at all until she had realized that she had forgotten her puffer.
Little Dianne was built rather awkwardly. Top heavy, her shape and mannerisms were more that of a little boy than a little girl. She couldn't really be described as obese, but she was stocky. She had long, wavy, auburn hair, and strangely magnetic eyes. People who talked to her were always drawn to those eyes, a strange shade of bluish green, almost aqua. Other than these eyes, her features were unremarkable. The squarish line of her jaw made her appear slightly masculine. If her face was only slightly more rounded she might have been pretty.
Dianne was wearing a plaid blue jumper over a white blouse with slightly ruffled sleeves and she was clutching a small stack of books close to her chest. Her knees were scabbed and grass stained.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dianne hated wearing dresses. Even at this young age she thought that they were ridiculous outfits and she looked awkward and uncomfortable in them. She always had to be careful how she sat so as not to expose her panties. Dresses also made playing baseball or football very difficult. If she fell, the boys could see her underwear and then they would tease her.
Dianne had protested to her parents on more than one occasion about having to wear dresses to school, but to no avail. As far as they were concerned, it was only proper for a little girl to dress like a little girl, and that meant dresses. She tried to explain her difficulties while playing with the boys at recess.
"Dianne, you really should be playing with the other little girls at school. Sports are better left to little boys than to little girls."
Although she kept from showing it, (she was very good at hiding her feelings) that statement had infuriated her. Life would be so much easier if I was a boy, she thought.
As she continued to make her way along the sidewalk that bright afternoon, Dianne came across a baby bird that had fallen from it's nest in a nearby tree. She stopped and looked down at it, and as she did her asthma worsened as it always did when she became excited.
Pathetic little thing, she thought, and she felt a rage well up inside of her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As she watched the bird, her head trembled slightly from side to side. Her bright, aqua-ish eyes fixated on it, and for the moment, at least as far as she was concerned, everything else around her ceased to exist. She found the helplessness of the little creature to be infuriating. Intolerable.
She moved a step closer to the bird and raised one foot. Then with as much force as she could muster, she stomped on it. She could feel small bones crunching and a smile crossed her lips. Then she ground her heel down on the dead bird, and again this pleased her.
For the moment she had entirely forgotten about her asthma. She was breathing just as quietly and evenly as any normal girl her age would while sunning them self on such a fine day.
With the knowledge that the bird was dead, her anger faded and she resumed on her way home. CLIP, CLAP, CLIP , CLAP. Her asthmatic huffing returning after only a few strides……….
2
Sparky Richards could only gape when the behemoth first walked into the gym. The man he was looking at was 6’9” and easily three hundred pounds. Of course, even this already impressive size would be exaggerated when his training was complete and he was introduced by the announcer before he stepped into the ring.
Sparky had been expecting him. “You’ve got to see this guy,” Gus Daniels had told him. “He’s a giant! Even if he can’t wrestle he’ll sell tickets.”
Gus was the wrestling troupe’s promoter. He had stumbled onto the big man at a circus side show where Malcolm had been performing as a strong man.
The man’s name was Malcolm Howard which was a rather unintimidating moniker to say the least for a man of such intimidating stature, but that was an easy fix. They could give him a new ring name once they got him out on the road.
“We’re probably going to have to do something about his face too,” Gus had warned.
“Why? What’s wrong with his face?” Sparky asked.
“Well, it’s sort of ... gentle looking.” Gus said. “It’s hard to explain, you’ll have to see for yourself.”
Sparky did see. As scary as Malcolm’s size was there was a calmness to his features that gave him a relaxed look which was non-threatening. A mask will fix that, Sparky thought….
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