Door Number Four was possibly one of the funnest short stories I’ve ever written.

It was originally written as a paid assignment but blew through the word count.

They weren’t budging on the number of words they wanted and I could not imagine what more I could cut from the story and make it readable.

We were at a stalemate so the deal was abolished. Oh well Que Será, Será.  

I admit I may have become too attached to the story — and too detached from the individual $pecs. So all there was left to do was publish Door Number Four my damn self.
This book (like most) has undergone at least one cover change.

I’m not in love with the current cover but I can change it whenever I want. That’s always fun too.

Here’s the intro.

Donald S. Crowley was a CPA by day; a bean counter; a number cruncher and a certified bore. By night he was as stimulating as the hero in his latest read with all the social skills of a brick. To make matters worse he was in love with a door. Not just any door, number four was special. Donald had become enamored with her when he was just a boy and he believed that she called him by name. Now he would risk his life to see her again and to finally know what lay behind Door Number IIII.

I hope you have endeavored to read a short story, or two, this month. And if you are a writer, I hope that you have written at least one short story.

I think that’s all I shall ever from here forward. 

Right on? Write on!