To sponsor this website, please go to my contact page.
Excerpt from "Newstales Presents: The Death of Michael Jackson by Carina Lamendola
Lea Giovonnata, and her husband Marco exited the solemn looking black
limousine that pulled into their driveway, and walked into the house. The house
was already congested with flowers, family, and well-wishers. Lea just wanted to
be left alone.
Her sister Joan greeted her at the door. "Come in, Sweetie! We've got ziti,
"I don't feel like eating!" Lea interrupted.
"Oh, Lea!" Joan started to protest.
"Please!" Lea snapped.
She whispered to her husband, "Marco? Do you want something to eat?"
"No, Love!" he answered. "I just want to sit next to you."
Lea squeezed his hand.
What a sight that was sprawled throughout their house. Loved ones were
eating, and laughing in the kitchen. Teenagers Lea and Marco didn't even know,
were stomping around the house, and telling jokes. What was so damn funny? Could
these people not understand that Lea and Marco's only child was dead? Their
little boy? Why didn't they all just go home?
They did go home, two hours later. The house felt so empty. "What do you want
to watch, Lea?" Marco asked, grabbing the remote.
"Watch what you want," she muttered. "I'm getting out of these
Off went her black taffeta dress. As she put it on the hanger, she remembered
the day she first bought it. Her sister Joan took her to the grand-opening of a
vintage clothing store at the mall.
"Look at this black dress!" Lea told her. "It's only twenty
"It's so black, and dreary!" Joan told her. "Where ever would you wear it?"
Lea laughed, "Maybe someone will die!"
Lea winced at the memory. She then put on her terry-cloth bathrobe. It was
what her son got her for Christmas last year. His last Christmas. Who
As she left her room, she saw the closed door at the end of the hall where
her son Scott used to sleep. Where he was sleeping just five days ago. She
laughed when she saw the clean hallway. It looked so foreign to her. Usually it
was a yellow-brick road of dirty socks, and gym shorts that led everybody to
Scott's room. She hated that dirty trail. Now she'd pay millions to see it
"What are you watching?" she asked Marco as she sat down beside him.
"HLN," he replied. "It says that Michael Jackson collapsed."
"He's always doing that stuff!" she scoffed. "He loves the attention."
"I don't know," Marco countered. "They're making quite a
"Of course!" she snapped. "That's how they get ratings. It's all publicity.
He has a concert coming up, right?"
The Giovonnatas were not fans of Michael Jackson. They
thought that he was a pedophile. However when the news revealed that Michael was
dead, it shattered them both. It was especially hard when they saw his parents
The couple suddenly became very very tired. They went to bed and slept for
twelve hours. Very late the following night, Lea crept out of bed, and walked
over to her husband's desk, and started to write. Marco followed the trail of
light in the hallway, and found her sitting there.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Writing a letter," she answered. "To....?"
"Mrs. Jackson," she stated.
"As in Michael's mother?" Marco asked.
"Yes!" she replied. "I want her to know that I know her suffering. That I too
lost a son unexpectedly. But my pain is much worse!"
"Now that's not fair," Marco interrupted.
"The hell it isn't!" she snapped. "She experienced things as
a mother that I will never get to! She saw all of her children grow up, get
married, have careers, babies...She has more than one child, and I will
She collapsed to the floor crying. "Why did we take so long to start having
children?" she wailed to her husband as he cradled her on the floor. "You
wanted to wait! I wanted to start on our wedding night!"
"I know!" Marco sobbed. "I know! I'm sorry."
"I'm alone!" she cried. "I'm all alone."
"No!" he answered. "No. You've got me. You'll always have
"I miss him!" she wept.
Marco held her close and choked out, "So do I."
click on link above to order, click book cover to enlarge.
Excerpt from "Newstales Presents: The Assassination of President Kennedy by Carina Lamendola
Marian knelt before the family altar.
Sacred Heart of Jesus, she implored. Please make me when I die the
Patron Saint of the Oppressed. Let me be the one the downtrodden turn to when
the world has trampled them beneath its feet. Please Dear
The floor vibrated beneath her knees. Doorbell, she
She could feel her mother's footsteps clomping their way to the front door.
Marian turned her head to see her neighbor Mrs. Howard crying, and embracing her
mother, who herself seemed quite bereft. She started to move towards them, but
they hurriedly raced towards the television.
What's going on? she signed with her fingers.
Their faces were so contorted. She had a hard time reading their lips. Her
hands moved frantically. What's wrong?
Marian tried to see on tv what the fuss was all about. She saw the President
and Mrs. Kennedy. She wished that someone on screen would talk so she could read
their lips. Then she saw captioned beneath President Kennedy's
PRESIDENT JOHN FITZGERALD KENNEDY 1917-1963
"Armageddon," she read on her mother's lips.
Why? Marian signed. What do you mean by
Her mother apologized, then revealed to her that President Kennedy had been
Dinner that evening was spent in silence. Not the silence that Marian was
accustomed to, but the deliberate kind. It frightened her.
At 10:30, Marian went upstairs to bed. Her parents normally gone up at this
time too, but instead they sat on the sofa staring dumbly at the television set.
Before she slept, she said her nighttime prayers. She was so disappointed.
Last night she was praying that she would achieve her dream of receiving a medal
of valor from President Kennedy. Now she was praying for that very president's
soul. Her hopes and dreams for the first time ever seemed
Marian started college in the spring. She wanted to take a semester off to
focus on her writing. Will that dream be broken too? Only God knows.
This is a warning to notify readers that all Newstales (tm) are copyrighted material, and can not be sold, copied, or reproduced without expressed written consent of the author, Carina Lamendola.
The following story is an excerpt from, Newstales Presents: 9/11 by Carina Lamendola. (c) 2012 Carina Lamendola.
It is sponsored by:
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Mia opened her eyes, and checked out her alarm clock. 7:30 am. "That was fast!" she remarked. Mia had slept for nine hours.
After taking a shower, Mia put on her white tank top, and salmon capri pants, ate her daily breakfast of sweet grass tea, and half a grapefruit, then retreated to her meditation garden that she had just constructed two months ago in the back yard.
On the white wicker loveseat that overlooked the koi pond that contained a bronze statue of Buddha in its center, Mia sat in the lotus position, and said a prayer:
"Great Creator, I thank You for this glorious day! Actually every day that You create is glorious, but this one...this one....is just spectacular! The temperature is perfect, the sky is cloudless and blue, and the air smells...divine! Thank You Creator, for today-Tuesday, September 11th, 2001."
After the prayer, she sat in silence. 2 hours of silence. She was getting to be quite good at this! With her eyes closed she imagined clients flocking to her in-home counseling center. She imagined their hurts being eliminated. She saw couples reconciling, and children excelling in school. She imagined herself finally tying he knot with a man perfectly suited to her needs and personality. She imagined having healthy and beautiful children.
The alarm on her sports watch beeped. Mia exhaled.
"Now I can take on my day!" she gushed. "Bring on the radio, TV, and newspapers! What's in store today, world?"