Warlockery #LonnieAndTiny #SampleSunday

In honor of the upcoming crossover story Tony Acree and I are writing, “Lonnie, Me, and The Hand of God”, here’s an excerpt from one of my Lonnie and Tiny stories. In this one, Lonnie believes a junk yard owner is into Occult Knowledge.


excerpt from “Lonnie, Me, and the Junkyard of Forbidden Delights”
by Marian Allen

“You know that junkyard out north of town? Scrappy’s?”

“What about it?” I knew better than to ask, but it just came out before I thought.

“Well, the guy that owns it isn’t really named Scrappy.”

“Do tell.”

“But that ain’t the point. The point is, he’s a whatchacallit.”

“A junkman?”

“No, that thing Leona’s so down on.”

“Drinker? Dancer? Gambler? Unitarian Universalist?”

“Dang it, Tiny, be serious! Like Harry Potter.”

“Young? English? Wiseass?”

Lonnie’s scrawny chicken neck got red, so I knew he was about to lose his temper. That’s no fun, so I put half my coffee cake on his plate and said, “Give me another hint. I’m not a very good guesser today.”

“You know: a guy that does magic. And don’t say magician, ’cause that ain’t it.”

“Sorcerer? Warlock?”

“That’s it!” He slapped me on the shoulder with those long, bony fingers hard enough to raise welts. “He’s a warlock.”

“You sure you don’t mean, like, a Mason or something?”

“No, he’s a warlock. Leona said some of the kids in her church youth group come in and said they went to Scrappy’s to buy some parts for a car they’re fixing up together. Said he was picking something in this garden he has out back of his office shed. They asked him what it was and he told them that good church-going children didn’t need to know.”

“What makes you think it was warlockery? Maybe it was marijuana. Or opium. Or heroin. No, you don’t grow heroin.”

“Heroin comes from horses, don’t it?”

Sometimes all you can do with Lonnie is say yes and go on. “Yes,” I said.



Or you can buy LONNIE, ME AND THE HOUND OF HELL, which contains the first Lonnie and Tiny story plus about nine other of my odd animal stories, for 99 cents.

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A WRITING PROMPT FROM ME TO YOU: Write about a junkyard.



I was born in Louisville, Kentucky, but now live in the woods in southern Indiana. Though I only write fiction, I love to read non-fiction. The more I learn about this world, the more fantastic I see it is.

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