MiLK (short story) - eBook

Discover the dark and desperate depths of motherhood in this gripping story of a mother's pursuit of success.

Mrs. Coyle is willing to do anything to make her eleven-year-old daughter's modeling career a success, even if it means trusting the wrong people and leaving her daughter alone with them.

With tensions rising and secrets lurking in the shadows, will Mrs. Coyle be able to keep her daughter safe and achieve the success she desires?

If you enjoyed the psychological thrill of Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn, you'll love this story of a mother's love and a daughter's safety. Buy it now!

Bonus story: Peanut Shells.

From the collection A Sandwich Can't Stop A Bullet.

Excerpt:

Mrs. Coyle could not believe what the casting director said about her daughter. She grinded her teeth, straightened her spine, and resisted slapping the man in the face. But no. It was not his fault. He wasn’t the one auditioning for the part in the commercial. He wasn’t the one that had the three callbacks among hundreds of other girls. It was the eleven-year-old girl in the light pink dress beside her who kept smiling like a damn fool even though the man in the suit and buzzed hair just dished her out a fat dose of undeserved rejection. She was the one who deserved a slap in the face. Wasn’t she aware of how hard she worked for these auditions, how hard she worked to be the final three, how hard she worked to play off the other two actors in the commercial?

“That’s all right, Mr. Howe,” Brianna, her daughter, said. “I had a lot of fun. I learned a lot.”

Mr. Howe beamed from the other side of the desk.

“You’re a talented actress for your age. I have a feeling we’ll run into each other again.”

**

That night, Mr. Coyle sat at the dinner table and presented the meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and broccoli he made for dinner since his wife and daughter came home late from the city. He continued to wear the frilly apron over his suit and tie as he sat down with them.

“That man better hope he doesn’t run into us again,” Mrs. Coyle said.

“Why?” Brianna cut into her meatloaf. “He was very nice. He gave some good advice.”

Mrs. Coyle stabbed her fork out. “That man wouldn’t know acting or talent if it were pummeled across his fat face.”

Brianna giggled. “He wasn’t fat.”

Mr. Coyle managed a smile through his nervousness and glanced at his daughter. “But you had fun with the process, darling? That’s all that matters. After all, school’s what’s important right now.”

Mrs. Coyle flinched at her husband. “Please. Do you think anyone on television or in the movies ever became rich and famous because of their education? Look outside the window lately? Regular people are miserable. Anyone happy is on TV or in the media. They became that way because of presentation. Times have changed. It’s not like how our parent’s had it.” She took a bite of broccoli. “For now on we’re going to work on presentation. That’s where we went wrong.”

Mr. Coyle frowned at his wife. She chewed, deep in thought. He then turned to his daughter, glad to see her smiling at her food and ignoring her mother’s words.