Check out Mel Bosworth reading an excerpt from Ann Rushton’s novel-in-progress.
Untitled by Ann Rushton
Ryan knew better. She knew better than to spend the waning hours of her twenty-fifth birthday, a breezy March night–morning, really–in the passenger seat of a 2001 Pontiac Grand Prix speeding down Main Street towards an apartment somewhere in Waldo, Kansas City, tolerating screeching Audioslave on the car stereo while attempting desperately to hang onto a cheap beer buzz that, since getting into the car, threatened to abate. And, of course, she knew better than to be in a car driven by a guy she really didn’t know. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She kind of knew his name—was it Trey or Troy or Trevor? Troy, she kept telling herself. It had to be Troy, that’s what she kept calling him all night. Troy, buy me another drink, Troy, I really want to play pop-a-shot, Troy, you reallythink you can sink the eight-ball? Show me.
Ann Rushton has been published in Storyglossia, Literary Mama, JMWW and other fine publications. She is also co-editor of Bound Off, a monthly literary audio magazine. This piece is from her novel-in-progress. She lives and writes in Iowa, and when not writing obsesses over knitting, the weather, and the Cubs.