Sneak peek to Crutch

"Bullied at school. Tormented by his brother. A disappointment to his parents. No one believes that Conner, a disabled young man, will make it through society's deadly coming of age ceremony. On the eve of his birthday, he must overcome what his peers label as weakness and learn that strength is not just a physical quality. But as he is pushed to his limits, will he be able to bolster what little self-confidence lies within?"


This is the synopsis for the short story I just self-published to ebook. Crutch. I am super excited about getting some of my work out there. If you are interested, it will be available at Smashwords on May 2. It is also be available for pre-order at:

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/crutch-1

And at:

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/crutch-alex-rushmer/1121725695?ean=2940151864848

Now at Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Crutch-Kari-Rushmer-ebook/dp/B00X4B2PA0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1430765666&sr=8-1&keywords=crutch+alex+rushmer

. It is only 0.99 cents. I would love it if you downloaded it and left me a review.

Here is a sneak peek of the first 30%:

My family didn't talk to me in the morning. Not one teacher called on me in class. The ride home from school was silent. For the first time in months I didn't have to deal with bullies. They know what today means. The law forbids interference of any kind.

Tomorrow I turn eighteen. Tomorrow I become a man. And tonight is my coming of age ceremony. I have prepared my whole life for this, and I am ready.

Warm yellow light from the evening sun illuminates the dining room. The smell of pepperoni leaves my mouth watering with anticipation. But I fold my hands grudgingly as my father says grace before supper. His voice seems to expand up to the high ceiling and then bounce back down toward us. I try to focus on the words, but my older brother kicks my shrunken leg under the table every few seconds. Hot anger surges beneath my cheeks.

No matter. Tomorrow he will never jeer at me again. Tomorrow I will prove myself.

“Amen,” the moment my father says the word, I reach out and pull a slab of pizza off the platter in front of us.

Normally my mom would scold me; her lips purse, but she remains silent.

Light sparkles in the chandelier above us, casting rainbow flecks about the room. I eat with ravenous hunger, watching birds flit in the hawthorn outside the window. The only sound to disturb the heavy silence is occasional clatter of utensils as my mom eats with a fork and knife. Her face is taut and stiff, as if she sent it to be starched along with her best clothes. But her sharp gray eyes are fixed on her plate.

After several minutes, my dad wipes his mouth with his napkin and sets it down on the table, clearing his throat. “Well, today is the day, Conner,” his tone is short and business-like. His heavy brow lies above his eyes like a storm cloud, casting deep shadows.

Mom looks up at him expectantly, but my brother continues to eat as if he hadn't heard.

“Yes, sir,” I nod.

“Are you ready?” his eyes wander to my crutches, propped up next to the table.

I scowl. He thinks that I am going to die. They all do. The weak do not survive in a world torn by war, and a pale-faced, cripple of a boy is never counted among the strong. He expects me to be weeded out. I repeat, “Yes, sir.”

“Don't worry,” my brother looks up, a small smirk twisting his lips. We are complete opposites. His skin is tanned; I burn after five minutes in the sun. He is built broad and firm; I am angular and wiry. Black hair as opposed to platinum blond hair. Dark eyes as opposed to blue eyes. He takes after my parents. Maybe that's why I get treated like the anomaly. “I'm sure that if worst comes to worse, he can beat it to death with a crutch.”

I resist the urge to kick him under the table. He can hit much harder than I.

“This is no joking matter, Ben,” my dad scolds.

“Yes, sir,” his voice holds a tone of mock respect.

My dad's attention is turned back to me. “Now, if you think you are ready, I suggest that you go up soon and get it over with. We will spend the night downstairs.”

I nod.

For a moment, I think he is done, then he continues, “Whatever happens tonight, remember that your mother and I are proud of you.” He rests his hand on hers, and a small smile creases her tight face.

I snort. They really do think I'm going to die. “Yeah, okay dad. Can I go?”

He nods, his brow furrowed.

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