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Audie Cockings

Audie Cockings is a storyteller of things familiar to her. Her debut novel, Little Red Rider, published through Amazon, rendered a humble following, particularly military wives and widows who intimately know sorrowful grief and tiresome fortitude. She has two novels set to go in 2019 entitled, The Mole and, A Girl, A Dog, A Boat. Audie's work has been published at Liberty Island Magazine and PJ Media. Little Red Rider can be found online at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Greetings and Readings Independent Booksellers, and in The Baltimore County Public Library, Towson, MD.

Audie is a proud mama of four and devoted (read: smitten but often exasperated) wife of a ring-knocker and former Army Ranger. When she is not writing fiction, she is elbow-deep in other creative endeavors, or at her "real job", crisis intervention for at-risk seniors and disabled adults. She attended University of Maryland, College Park, as an undergrad and holds a Master's degree in Adulthood and Aging from a historic Roman Catholic women's college (where she nearly flunked philosophy for believing in God). Audie hopes that someday liberal Protestants, pro-choice Catholics, and atheist Jews will get married in the Universal Unitarian Church then go on an extended honeymoon someplace far away that does not offend them.

Audie is the worst ice skater that ever dated someone from Michigan.  But she's a stellar cook so he asked her anyhow.

This Is the Virgin River

*Submit your photographs of nature and the outdoor life to [email protected] to participate in this weekly feature exploring the natural world.*

New Nature Nonfiction & Photography: Golden Comet Hospice

Mama swaddled the week-old infant and strapped the fragile runt neatly into her own slight chest. It had been seven years since she’d tethered herself to a baby. But Mama was getting desperate. The topical spray pharmaceuticals, vitamin drops, manual extractions, and even a warm sitz bath couldn’t fix the distended lower abdomen of her young one.

The sheer frail skin covering Tiny’s lower G.I. was increasingly warm and pink. Impacted bowels were finding no more road to roam and the last exit was blocked with a pebbly yellow wall that kept reinforcing itself. Mama spoke with experts on line, all in agreement that an internal abnormality was primary reason for Tiny’s failure to thrive. The bowel trouble, a symptom of a mortal medical defect.

Mama searched online for home remedies as she gently stroked Tiny’s tender disproportioned lower trunk. Tiny had declined enormously after having a brief rally on day four just to tank the following two. It was now day seven and there was nothing more Mama could do.

New Fiction, Chapter 4: Stealing Cars and Co-Ed Bars

Serial installments of the novel ‘A Girl, A Dog, a Boat’ continue

The guys I dated before Todd weren’t anything to write home about – seemingly pleasant company, but not engaging in a lifetime sort of way. And I had zero man-luck in med school. There were too many willing undergrad girls looking to land a doctor so the single males in med school were severely oversexed…

I thought I was modern. A go-with-the-flow kinda girl who wasn’t in a full-on sprint to coupledom. But after being propositioned by far too many drunk partygoers, I concluded that I’m nicer than I put on. Perhaps all of those years of Sunday school stuck because a roll in the hay was of no interest to me.

That, coupled with the fact that I never really had a serious long-term boyfriend kept me in good standing with Flossie and her friends at church who regularly asked God to send me a husband before I gave up and sinned. She said that if she waited then so could I. She also said that the best husbands are friends first.

Editor’s note: Click here for chapter 1here for chapter 2, and here for chapter 3 in this weekly fiction serial.

New Fiction, Chapter 3: Splinters and The Pressure Cooker

Serial installments of the novel ‘A Girl, A Dog, a Boat’ continue

Mom had planned on staying another few days, but after the physicality of my loss was over I kindly asked her to go. I was so confused. I didn’t know why I was mourning someone I never knew. I couldn’t talk about it. As much as I loved Mom’s company, I felt a big cry coming on and wanted to be alone.

The weeks following only further solidified my sorrow. Everywhere I went there were pregnant women and new babies. It was as if the cervically-gifted were breeding with each other. Multiplying
themselves just to mock me. My only solace was food and I was beginning to resemble a tub of salted caramel.

Editor’s note: Click here for chapter 1 and here for chapter 2 in this weekly fiction serial.

New Fiction, Chapter 2: Johnny Hustle

Serial installments of the novel ‘A Girl, A Dog, a Boat’ continue

Mom wanted to stay. She knew exactly what I was feeling: unspeakable loss. She’d had much of that in her life. Much more than mine. She lost both her parents very young, in a car accident. And of course, she lost her best friend, my dear father.

Dad was the most hard-working man of his time and entirely self-made. He ran off and joined the army at seventeen so he could have enough money to marry his high school sweetheart. After being a radio guy for three years and getting some experience in supply-chain management, Johnny left the Army to be a tin-knocker like his old man. He turned their petite carport into a sheet metal fabrication shop that slowly but steadily became a very profitable business venture. After retiring, Dad consulted for his old competitors who knew him by the nickname of “Johnny Hustle.” Nobody worked harder than dad. He could make or fix anything with a pencil, a ruler, a heavy pair of snips, and a Phillips head.

Editor’s note: Click here for chapter 1 in this weekly fiction serial

New Fiction Serial: A Girl, A Dog, A Boat

Chapter 1: Listen to Your Mother

She told me this would happen. At sixty-eight years old, my mom, Flossie, hit the nail on the head, yet again.

She was right about Andy, Marc, James, Julian, Miguel, and now Todd. I should have stuck with serial monogamy. That seemed to hurt less.

I knew it was coming but seeing Todd’s photo in The Capital Paper yesterday, cosseting a certain female named Barbie Joe caused a pain in my chest that I didn’t think possible. Todd may as well have hung me upside down on a cross, cut my heart out and BBQ’d it for his new anatomically correct and (somewhat) well-bred subdeb. I was done.

 

There Is a Free Lunch After All…

*Submit your photographs of nature and the outdoor life to [email protected] to participate in this weekly feature exploring the natural world.*

4 Photos From an Afternoon at Popham Beach, Phippsburg, Maine

*Submit your photographs of nature and the outdoor life to [email protected] to participate in this weekly feature exploring the natural world.*

Fishing for Lake Trout off the Old Mission Peninsula, Traverse City, Michigan

*Submit your photographs of nature and the outdoor life to [email protected] to participate in this weekly feature exploring the natural world.*

Sunset On A Pristine Northern Michigan Farm

*Submit your photographs (or videos) of nature and the outdoor life to [email protected] to participate in this weekly feature exploring the natural world.*

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