Broken but Undaunted

By Susan Helene Gottfried

A short collection of short stories that were all previously published and now gathered together in one spot.

 

Showing off a versatility with subject matter, this collection contains a nice number of rock fiction stories, including more than one from the Trevolution series, a fantasy, and the story of a young widow who is broken, but undaunted by what life is throwing at her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: West of Mars, LLC
• Release date: Aug 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223881704

Book preview

Broken but Undaunted: Collected Stories

Susan Helene Gottfried

West of Mars, LLC

Copyright ©2023 by Susan Helene Gottfried

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact [include publisher/author contact info].

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

Book Cover by Rachel Bowdler

These stories appeared previously in print in the following capacity:

Undaunted; Running Wild Press (2018 )

Broken (2014; out of print )

The Ghost of the Dresser (Bestseller Bound Short Story Anthology—Volume 4 2012)

The Taste of Pink Snow (Pink Snowbunnies in Hell Anthology 2011; out of print)

Make a Wish (Bestseller Bound Short Story Anthology—Volume 2 2011)

Mannequin: A Short Story (2011; out of print)

Guitar God Numero Uno (With Love Anthology 2011; out of print)

Contents

Author's Note

1.Guitar God Numero Uno

2.The Taste of Pink Snow

3.Make a Wish

4.The Ghost of the Dresser

5.Mannequin

6.Broken

7.Undaunted

About the Author

Also By

Author's Note

All of these stories were previously published, between 2011 and 2018. Where they're still in print, I encourage you to pick up the books—the links are at the end—and check out the works by my fellow contributors.

Since I own the rights to all of these, I thought it would be fun to put them into one volume and let them stand on their own, together.

Because leaving a review is the second-best way of thanking an author for their hard work (the best way is to either buy the book for a friend or recommend it to them. Loudly and insistently. Aww, hell, just buy it for them.), I encourage you to write a review—and as you do, let me know which story is your favorite. I know which of mine is, so let's compare.

Guitar God Numero Uno

Mitchell got to Guitars by Gus five minutes early for his lesson. Opening the door, he could hear Gus talking—but nothing else. None of the music that was usually playing, none of the chatter from the guys who usually filled the cramped aisles of the store. Just Gus, talking to someone whose voice Mitchell didn’t recognize.

He stopped midsentence when Mitchell closed the door behind him.

Bad news, kid, Gus said when he saw who it was. Randy’s blown me off all day. I doubt he’ll show for you, either. He shook his head in disgust. We need to find you another teacher. Someone who thinks with his wallet, not his dick. If he didn’t rent the lesson space from me, I’d fire him. As it is, I think it’s time to tell him to move along. Not showing up like this makes me look bad, even if I get paid whether he’s here or not. It’s not always about the money.

Amen, the other guy said softly.

Mitchell brightened. Rumor had it that every now and then, Gus would take on a few students. No one really knew if it was true or just wishful thinking, but everyone who played guitar prayed they’d be the person who got to find out firsthand.

The guy leaning against the counter nodded at Mitchell. This the kid you were telling me about?

Mitchell looked him over. Maybe he was a guitar teacher? He didn’t look like it, with dark hair pulled back in a super tight low ponytail, more like a hippie than a dude with long hair who wanted it off his face. Even worse, he wore one of those red plaid flannel hunting jackets, the warm kind, even though the day was getting hot. His jeans were a bit rumpled, comfortably so. That could be considered normal. Same for his nondescript black boots. He could have been anyone. Except, Mitchell had a feeling, he wasn’t.

Yeah. Gus scratched his head, his fingers scraping against his scalp in the otherwise quiet store. He’s outgrown every other teacher in town and now with Randy chasing that Pam Derbish tail around town, I’m out of teachers for him. Kid, he said, turning to Mitchell, you might have just graduated. Just do me a favor and stay away from that Derbish girl. She’s nothing but trouble. Latches on to you guitar players and won’t let go.

Mitchell shifted his weight. Girls didn’t latch on to him. Not unless they were trying to get to Trevor, and when that happend, he wound up being nothing more than a nearby stepping stone.

The stranger ground the end of his cigarette into the ashtray on the counter. He