Served Cold: Tales of Revenge and Redemption

By Gloria Diaz

I wrote these stories (with the exception of one) during the spring and summer of 2011. An incident triggered this outpouring, and the theme of revenge and redemption emerged. If you've ever wanted a character in a story or novel to get even, read on. These seven stories focus on people (and one dog) who strike back.

Read about a dog trapped in a hot truck rescued by a group of "compassionists" who give his master a taste of his own medicine; a woman who blackmails a couple to cash in on their lottery fortune; a sheltered college student who steps outside her comfort zone to get her photos back; a girl who writes a diary which causes horrible things to happen; a nasty remark leads to the suicide of the woman who uttered it; a planned murder during a hunting accident goes horribly wrong, and a woman who dies and goes to Hell can earn her way to Heaven--if she works retail.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gloria Diaz
• Release date: Mar 8, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476461823

Gloria Diaz

After years of wondering if I was ever going to be published, it's going to happen. Granted, it's not a paper book, and you can't sign an e-book, but this is way better than trying to find a traditional publisher, and more than likely, getting turned down. I write in a variety of styles, and this first collection of short stories has a paranormal tale, but most of them center around revenge, or redemption. Some of these stories are semi-autobiographical; certain events and people triggered the urge to write. I changed names and details to protect the guilty. I've written in some way, shape, or form for the past 19 years. I started out as an associate editor for a small Indiana twice-weekly newspaper, then, full of myself and my abilities, assumed one of the local papers would hire me. They didn't. I did freelance for an assortment of local publications, and continue to write a humor/general interest column for the Fort Wayne Reader. I am also working on a novel, and plan to write and publish erotic fiction under a pen name. I'd like to thank the hundreds of anonymous readers who first checked out my short story excerpts on www.short-fiction.co.uk. I'd also like to thank acquaintances and co-workers who read my stories and offered feedback. I have no editor, no proofreader or marketing person, so I am doing it all myself, except for the cover art. I hope this works out for me. E-publishing may give me that nudge I need to really write.

Book preview

Served Cold: Tales of Revenge and Redemption

By Gloria Diaz

Copyright 2012 by Gloria Diaz

Smashwords edition copyright 2012

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locals is entirely coincidental.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Acknowledgements

I don’t know how many times I’ve said, I’m going to write a book, and it hasn’t happened. Intentions were good, but the follow up wasn’t there. Until now.

I knocked out one of these stories a week in the spring and summer of 2011. Triggered by an incident that happened on my birthday, somehow I had an urge to write short stories, the first time it’s happened in a long time. Wait—has it ever happened? The six stories (or a very short novella and five stories, if you like) all center around revenge or redemption. Basically, the underdog has his (or her day) and people who have screwed up pay the price. Those who have read my column in the Fort Wayne Reader may be surprised at the dark, depressing tone of the stories (Retail Hell is the only story that has any humor in it) but that was my mood the spring and summer of 2011.

I’m writing this paragraph several months after I finished the stories. I came across a story I wrote back in college, and thought it fit in with the revenge and redemption theme, so I’m throwing it in. Apparently, it’s the only copy I have. I remember cranking out the story in two hours the night before it was due. I remember reading the story in class and the anonymous comment cards my fellow students wrote were extremely complimentary. I ended up with a good grade on it, but I can’t seem to find the finished copy. I’ll include it as is, with typos hopefully cleaned up.

That being said, I need to thank some people for reading my stories and offering feedback. I can’t afford an editor, or much of anything else for that matter, so I gave my stories to co-workers, Facebook friends, and posted excerpts online in order to see what people had to say. For the most part, the feedback I did get was very good. As someone who is anal-retentive, I wanted this collection of stories to be as polished as I could possibly get it without benefit of professional proofreader, fact-checker, and editor. Actually, I’ve done all those things professionally at some point, but it is extremely hard to look critically at your own work. How did I know I was done? Sometimes, after going over each story three and four times (if not more) I worried that once they were published, I’d find something else to add. Someone said at some point, I’d just have to let it go. She’s right of course, and in order for this to appear in print (or on screen, this is an e-book, after all) I’d have to do just that.

So who all helped me? For starters, co-workers Varian Hudson, Stephenie Miller, Diane Keith, Ashley Ernest and Victoria York (I haven’t given up on the novel, I promise) looked at early drafts and offered feedback. I also have to thank Susan Tielker-Sharpe and her colleagues at Coslow and Associates, for passing an early edition of Hot Enough For Ya? around the office and writing down their impressions.

Thanks to John Osterman, who took my cover idea and brought it to life.

Also, I need to thank Robert Enders, who told me e-publishing was going to get even bigger and e-published some of his own fiction, Wasted Life.

I’d hoped to have my first book be a traditional print book (you can’t bring an e-book to a book signing) but Amanda Hocking changed my mind when she took the concept of do it yourself to a whole new level by making millions off of her books. If I can earn enough to pay for my Internet access for a year, I’ll consider this a success. Amanda was turned down by traditional New York publishers, but uploaded her stuff online and sent her work to be reviewed by book bloggers and the rest, as they say, is history.

Even though I couldn’t get into the first Harry Potter book (or any of them, for that matter) I have to thank J.K. Rowling for never giving up on Harry Potter. She, along with Ms. Hocking, are living the dream, and because of that are inspiring other writers to at least try.

The Fort Wayne Reader gave me a chance back in 2004 when I sent them my clips, and they brought me in for a chat. I didn’t even have to ask them for a column; they gave it to me and thereby gave me the chance to prove that I did deserve to have a voice in print. Thank you for giving me something I can be proud of.

I’ve not read all of Stephen King’s books, but the ones I did have had an effect on me. I read Hearts in Atlantis several times while writing my short fiction. King can mix the real with the not-so-real and make it work. I only hope I was able to do the same with the compassionists in Hot Enough For Ya? I thank him for being and creating.

I have to thank my mother. She said I would make a million dollars with my writing some day. Even if it doesn’t happen, she always encouraged my writing, and taught me how to read when I was two and a half years old.

And I need to thank you, the reader, for taking a chance on my stories. I try not to write anything boring, because I’ve read too many sleep-inducing pages in my life. Hopefully, these will keep you awake. And wanting more.

Gloria Diaz

Fort Wayne, Indiana

March 8, 2012

This book is dedicated to my mother and father. It’s also dedicated to my sister, who never got a chance.

Table of Contents

Hot Enough For Ya?

It Is Written

One Good Shot

Secrets Cost Money

A Means to an End

The Murder of Stephanie Hartford

Retail Hell

Revenge is a dish that tastes best when served cold.

Mario Puzo, The Godfather

Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.

Confucius

People, I just want to say, you know, can we all get along?

Rodney King

Hot Enough For Ya?

The man was a typical Hoosier: big bellied, goatee, moustache, and very short hair. He was most definitely a wings and beer man, a pizza and beer man, and a brats and beer man. He perspired year round.

His truck was typically macho: a Chevy Silverado, terrible on gas mileage, but who gave a fuck? Only those environmental faggots, and he steered clear of those. Mercifully, in his line of work, construction, he didn’t have to deal with them too much. Even when his customers obviously cared about the Earth more than anything else, the look in his eyes told the tree-hugging dimwits to stay the fuck away. He wasn’t crazy, by any means, but had definite opinions about things and people. He had a hearty directness about him, and while he wouldn’t break any track records, he looked like he could more than take care of himself.

His education was typically Hoosier: it had stopped in high school, and he felt no need to carry on with higher education. He’d seen too many people he knew borrow money for college, convinced they were going to get a great job as soon as they graduated. They hadn’t, and ten years after they graduated, were still struggling along. This man wasn’t. He’d learned construction from his old man, and had continued to live at home, socking his money away. Eventually he started a business and was doing well. He had no regrets about his grammar, his gruffness or being able to talk to people in a way that said, I’m in charge here.

One would imagine a man such as this would have a dog with a similar personality: big, intimidating, and perhaps a little on the dumb side. What the man had ended up with was a Lab mix that was perhaps one of the sweetest dogs on his block. The man had him well trained. He enjoyed riding with his master, so the man gave in and tucked blankets all over the front seat of his truck. There were towels on the floor. This was the only unsightly thing about his brand-new truck: everything in the cab gleamed, but the old towels and blankets were a bit jarring. It was a bit like looking at a beautiful woman, then noticing the teeth in her mouth had rotted to her gums.

The man had his dog along in the truck with him that day. One could also say it was typical Indiana weather. A week of cold and rain gave way to temperatures near 100 degrees and relentless sunshine. Then, it had plunged back into 60 degree weather and drizzle. The man listened to weather forecasts (in his line of work, he had to) but had little faith in them. He routinely bet his employees what the weather would be like during a certain time period. Frequently, he was right. His employees would have grumbled, except the man would occasionally take his winnings and buy the crew pizza. He wasn’t entirely a prick.

* * *

He wasn’t entirely a prick, but men were by nature selfish and thoughtless, and this man was a little worse than usual. His ex-wife would say a lot worse than usual. He’d been divorced for a few years, occasionally dating some of his former high school classmates. His money was the main attraction. His smile didn’t hurt either, and he could well afford to entertain if not with style, at least with abundance. He had a small lake cottage that was the scene of many a party, with plenty of booze and food. He usually treated his employees and families to an annual Fourth of July bash complete with fireworks. His dog usually curled up on the porch during these demonstrations. Once the fireworks were lit, he wouldn’t move until the booming and flashing were over. The man never seemed to notice his dog during these fireworks shows. He had no idea the dog would cringe and shake while the firecrackers and the various smoking, stinking things exploded.

One could say the dog was smarter than the man. The dog at least knew what was important: food, water, a place to sleep. Human companionship was nice too. He understood as many words as a dog could, although tone of voice, and not the actual syllables, was how the dog could interpret how the man was feeling that day. He could tell if the man was tense, without even speaking a word. The slam of a door, for instance, or the way he drove the truck.

Today, he could tell the man was in a reasonably good mood. They were at The Store again. The dog had never been inside, but the man would go in empty-handed, and sometimes bring back a plastic bag and things would clank around. Other times, there were noises in the back of the truck, and the dog would later find out large pieces of wood were what the man bought that day. The dog knew on these trips there was nothing to do once they got to The Store except lay down for a nap. The man had parked the truck, and said what he always did: I’ll be right back.

On sunny hot days, the dog still went with the man, although it wasn’t the most pleasant of circumstances, The man would crack the window, but it wasn’t enough, and the dog could never, ever make the man understand that while the ride to The Store in the truck was fine as long as the cool air was blowing, once the cool air stopped blowing, it was very uncomfortable. In the winter, it wasn’t too bad, although it did get cold. Today though, it was cool. It had rained earlier that morning, and the grass was still damp.

But unfortunately for the dog, the unpredictable Indiana weather his master had so successfully wagered on turned hot within ten minutes. Really, his master didn’t intend to stay long in the store. Really he didn’t. But by chance, he had run into someone he had graduated high school with. The woman had aged well. That was the man’s first thought. The second was, she hasn’t let herself go. The third thought was, I’d like to fuck her.

The dog would never know such pleasure, because when the man got him from a friend, the dog had already been neutered. The dog didn’t play with other dogs. The man didn’t walk the dog very much, but the dog had a huge yard to run around in,