All material on this website not otherwise copyrighted is Copyright © 2009-2010 Gracie Stanners
Lives on the Edge, Hearts on the Line
Gracie O'Neil Writer of Paranormal Romantic Suspense
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When John got out of his meeting and found the last ten years of his life stacked in the foyer of his upmarket Willis Street office, he was not amused. By the time he'd stormed home, stirred his fury to boiling point by bellowing at me like an enraged hippo through the security door, and then assaulted the police as they escorted him off the property, I wasn't the only one who knew it; John had made his lack of amusement plain to the entire street.
When John got out of his meeting and found the last ten years of his life stacked in the foyer of his upmarket Willis Street office, he was not amused. By the time he'd stormed home, stirred his fury to boiling point by bellowing at me like an enraged hippo through the security door, and then assaulted the police as they escorted him off the property, I wasn't the only one who knew it; John had made his lack of amusement plain to the entire street.
I'd left the private military market for my own reasons, and kept to the straight and narrow for more than five years, but when I opened my apartment door and found Colonel David Madigan standing in the hallway I sensed that the decision to change direction might just have been made for me.
I'd left the private military market for my own reasons, and kept to the straight and narrow for more than five years, but when I opened my apartment door and found Colonel David Madigan standing in the hallway I sensed that the decision to change direction might just have been made for me.
The heavy rain was more than the old windscreen wipers could handle and I almost hit the man standing in the middle of the road trying to flag me down. Fortunately for him I wasn’t traveling fast, and even as I was cursing him I was slowing to a stop. I’d lived in a farming community long enough to know everyone helps when a car is in a ditch on a gravel road at dusk in winter.
The heavy rain was more than the old windscreen wipers could handle and I almost hit the man standing in the middle of the road trying to flag me down. Fortunately for him I wasn’t traveling fast, and even as I was cursing him I was slowing to a stop. I’d lived in a farming community long enough to know everyone helps when a car is in a ditch on a gravel road at dusk in winter.
The decision to remove her cheating husband from her life was an easy one for Gina, but what to do next wasn't quite so straightforward.
When Jacqui  left  David Madigan she'd had good reasons. But when the charming mercenary walked back into her life she had  to ask herself the questions: did those reasons for leaving still apply? Or had they become the reasons to stay?
Abby had always thought she’d meet Riordan Finn again, but she certainly hadn’t expected that meeting to be during a carjacking in the middle
of a lonely country road.
My Grammar, to me, was the best kind of friend. We'd spend time together. As the day'd end She would tuck me up tight in my comfortable bed And weave tales of fantasy over my head While her cat batted gently with subjunctive clause At the knitting my Grammar kept just for indoors.
For when a change of hair style and color just doesn't cut it.
Even when you're a kid, decorating a forty meter high Christmas tree can have its down side.
FREEBIES
My Grammar, to me, was the best kind of friend. We'd spend time together. As the day'd end She would tuck me up tight in my comfortable bed And weave tales of fantasy over my head While her cat batted gently with subjunctive clause At the knitting my Grammar kept just for indoors.
For when a change of hair style and color just doesn't cut it.
Even when you're a kid, decorating a forty meter high Christmas tree can have its down side.
My Grammar always told the best bedtime stories...

What's a woman to do after a divorce?
This self Improvement course sounds just the ticket.

As one of the exercises to find--and then refine--her voice, a writer needs to explore the various literary arts. It takes time. It takes experimentation. And it also takes up an absurd amount of room on a hard drive.

Here are some of Gracie's experiments. They're not necessarily romance, or paranormal, or suspense. Some of them are short stories. Some are poems. She hopes you'll find something here to enjoy.

Click on the bloodstains below to read...
Decorating the Christmas tree isn't meant to be an Extreme Sport.
But in some families...

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