Grim Tales from the Ruralhood

By T. Powell Coltrin

T. Powell Coltrin’s Grim Tales from the Ruralhood includes twenty-six short stories and flash fiction infused with rural flavor, fantasy, mystery, dysfunctional relationships and wit. In a rural setting, a girl confronts her dog’s killer and learns a neighbor’s secret; a kleptomaniac teenager is on the loose again; a man’s heinous crime is exposed and he becomes a stick in the mud, and a well planned wedding becomes a scam. Two boys test the rumor of a monster in The Nix of Mill Pond. In Rumpelstiltskin, travelers forget their manners when they eat at a café in a town called Skin Ridge and pay a price. Two mean girls try to find their way out of the mess they’ve made in The Zenith. Each unique story is a bit grim and inspired by a Brothers Grimm title.

• Language: English
• Publisher: T. Powell Coltrin
• Release date: Mar 6, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310649356

T. Powell Coltrin

T. Powell Coltrin is a school social worker by day and an aspiring writer at night of short stories. She enjoys writing in various genres: mystery, thriller, comedy, fantasy and a bit of surreal with an occasional children’s story thrown in there. A few of her children’s read aloud stories appeared in Missouri Farmer in past years. She is the author of a soon to be released anthology titled Grim Tales from the Ruralhood, a compilation of twenty-six short stories inspired by a Brothers Grimm title and set in a rural setting. Currently, she is working on her first YA novel with the working title Twice in a Blue Moon and another short story compilation with the working title of Body Bags. T. Powell Coltrin can also be found writing on her blogs Journaling Woman, where she writes whatever is on her mind plus a Sunday inspirational post and at The Ruralhood, where she journals and posts photos of growing up as a rural child and beyond.

Book preview

GRIM TALES FROM THE RURALHOOD

26 STORIES FROM A-Z

T. Powell Coltrin

Grim Tales from the Ruralhood © 2013 T. Powell Coltrin

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition

Grim Tales from the Ruralhood is a work of fiction. These stories are not about the author or any other living or deceased person. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses or organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All names, characters, places and incidents are imagined and are for entertainment purposes only.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for purposes of critical review, or where permitted by law.

Acknowledgements

First of all, I want to thank my family who continue to encourage me to write, especially my daughter, Dr. Tessa Coltrin, who pushes me to be the best writer I can be and my mom, Joyce Powell, for being a lifetime cheerleader and allowing me to use her graveyard photo for the cover. I also must thank my dad, Ronnie Powell, for my love of writing. I want to thank Cay Sergent and Matt Charlton for giving Grim Tales from the Ruralhood a read through.

In addition, I would like to thank my blogging community. Not only do they encourage me to write, they have also become a threshold in my journey of improvement as a writer and a person. A special thanks goes out to Elizabeth Craig, who encouraged me to compile these stories into a short story collection.

One more bit of thanks must go to the brave souls who returned regularly to read these stories while they were still raw writing, during the Blogging from A-Z Challenge in 2012. Many offered suggestions to make them better, and I listened. Some stories were completely rewritten and other’s replaced.

Last, but not least, I want to thank Lee Jackson (Arlee Bird), whose Blogging from A-Z Challenge event encouraged me to snag a theme, write, and post for 26 days on my blog Journaling Woman, during the month of April(read more about that in the foreword).

Foreword

Once upon a time, in the land of Blogdom there was a man called Arlee Bird. At any given time, he could be found on his blog, Tossing it Out. But Arlee Bird had a bigger idea. What if he created a challenge for bloggers near and far that—well—would challenge them. He would name it Blogging from A to Z April Challenge. He threw the idea out to the bloggers in Blogdom. He would tell them that he would host a blogfest where participating bloggers would use consecutive letters from the alphabet to create posts. He would encourage all bloggers to unite by linking their blogs to his and posting for twenty-six days in April while using the alphabet as a guide—omitting Sundays. Along with this, participants would be encouraged to visit as many of the other linked blogs in Blogdom as possible, comment and join each blog. The first A-Z Blogging Challenge was a success. The second was even better and so on.

For the first time in 2012, I participated and completed the challenge. Some participants chose to write to a theme, and I was one of them. From the A-Z Challenge came my compilation of short stories, Grim Tales from the Ruralhood. My theme included using titles from the Brothers Grimm fairytales, but creating my own stories. The stories I wrote are not rewritten Grimm stories, but original stories inspired by the titles. If I couldn’t find a title to correspond with a letter, then I either created one (The Zenith) or used a letter within a title (The Wedding of Mrs. Fox).

In addition to finding a title that corresponded to the letters of the alphabet, my personal challenge was that each story:

• Be inspired by the Grimm title

• Be slightly grim

• Have a rural or small town setting

Hence, Grim Tales from the Ruralhood was created.

Allerleirauh

(AL-LER-LAY-RAH)

At ten minutes to eleven, the deacon pulled the rope that rang the church bell. It could be heard throughout the countryside, signaling folks that the morning service would soon begin. When she heard the bell, nine-year-old Allerleirauh McKee raced back inside from the outhouse near the woods. She pushed her way through the adults to get to her parents’ pew, but her neighbor stopped her.

Augusta Hubbard’s age bent her posture. She leaned in closer to the girl, her plump skin folding forward in uneven flaps, and hissed, If I see you around my farm again, you little piss-ant, you’ll be sorry. Remember your dead little doggy? That’ll be you if you trespass again on my property. Gussie narrowed her eyes and moved even closer. Her rancid, fruity breath flooded Allerleirauh’s nose.

Gussie, Anna McKee spit out the name like a bug had invaded her tongue. She didn’t look at the neighbor who lived across the road from her, but instead smoothed her blue flowered shirtwaist and looked down at her daughter. "Alley,