Available at:

AMAZON

Paperback

Kindle

EBOOKS

LIBRARIES

(let your library know it's available on)

DIRECT FROM AUTHOR

(email request for print or ebook)

Welcome to Moningers Fall

and other Stories

A lyrical work of magical realism that explores the enduring power of community, the weight of memory, and the extraordinary grace found in an ordinary pint of ale.

Welcome to The Fall—or Moningers Fall, if you’re reading the map, but we don't stand on ceremony here. I’m Tom Hale. I run the bar, I dispense the local wisdom, and I’m the only man in town who knows exactly how many decades it takes for a secret to become a legend.

We recently had a bit of a stir when my great-to-the-nth-degree grandfather finally turned up. Not in person, mind you—he’s been missing since 1878—but his discovery brought Tabitha Prince back to our mist-heavy shores. Tabitha’s a reporter with a sharp pen and a memory that’s a little too good; she recognized the dog outside my door from her summer vacation twenty years ago. And, between you and me, he was already a seasoned veteran of the local squirrels back when my grandfather first went missing.

Tabitha thinks she’s here to file a report on a cold case involving my family tree. She doesn’t realize yet that she’s actually here to weave a masterpiece. She’s starting to ask questions about our local stewards—a couple whose kindness is as immortal as their fashion sense—and why the Fallan are quite so... well, caring.

It’s my job to feed her the stories, one pint at a time, until she realizes that in this town, ‘once upon a time' is just another way of saying 'Tuesday afternoon.’ So, can I get you a drink? You’re going to want to be comfortable for this next part.

In Moningers Fall, the past isn’t dead—it’s just grabbing a drink at the bar.

Steven L. Parker - Author

I am a writer, a poet, an artist, and a fool—and, at long last, no longer an itinerant engineer. I grew up (provided one uses a sufficiently elastic definition of the term) across the landscapes of Indiana, New Jersey, Ohio, and Colorado.

Following a series of colorful misadventures, I found myself living in the rainforest outside Hilo, Hawaii, alongside my wife, the amazing Shawndra Holmberg; her sister, the equally brilliant writer Anne Avery; three dogs; two cats; and several imaginary friends, most of whom are apparently named Bob.

Eventually, the mammals followed me to Western Pennsylvania—a land where everyone wears a beard, rides a Harley, and puts French fries on their salads. The Bobs, of course, were already here waiting for us.

Unfortunately, also waiting was a diagnosis of Primary Progressive Aphasia (logopenic variant). It is a condition that seeks to rob me of my words and the man I always thought I was. But while the words may be harder to find, the stories—and the fool—remain.