Tina D'Angelo
Bio
I am a 70-year-old grandmother, who began my writing career in 2022. Since then I have published 6 books, all available on Barnes and Noble or Amazon.
BARE HUNTER, SAVE ONE BULLET, G-IS FOR STRING, AND G-IS FOR STRING: OH, CANADA
Stories (230)
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One Man's Skating Pond. Content Warning.
When my children were young we homeschooled. Winter sports activities were limited when you had no Gymnasium, so we improvised. As I was drinking my morning Tequila and getting ready for a dull day of reading, writing, and arithmetic, I spied a shiny ribbon of ice, nestled in a wooded area just beyond our yard, in no man's land.
By Tina D'Angelo2 years ago in Fiction
Miracles. Content Warning.
Many years ago, I lived with an abusive man, who outweighed me by 150 pounds. One frigid night in February, he had me by the neck and was slamming my head into the living room wall. I knew he was about to kill me. As I was losing consciousness, a dove landed on our balcony railing. My abuser stopped and marveled, thinking he could lure the bird inside. That dove gave me just enough time to escape the apartment.
By Tina D'Angelo2 years ago in Fiction
A Singular World of Writers
In a world where it is believed that all authors are rich and famous, the world of Vocal, and similar sites are astonishing to me. Having stumbled upon Vocal a full year ago, six months into my serious writing journey, I couldn't believe a place like this existed. A venue where my paltry attempts at writing garnered kind words of encouragement from others, who were in love with the pen and paper, just as I was. It was as if I'd landed upon a soft, warm cloud of words, that carried me from one challenge to another, beckoning the unplumbed depths of my ability.
By Tina D'Angelo2 years ago in Writers
Who Dunnit?
It was a fine day for watching migrating birds, so hubby and I made a trip to our local bird-watching site, Sage Creek promontory. We had bundled up in thick, wooly sweaters and hiking boots for our jaunt. The air was crisp and smelled like burning leaves and the sweet, rotting apples that dotted the ground in the field on the other side of the road.
By Tina D'Angelo2 years ago in Criminal
A Merry Little Christmas to Us
My cruiser partner and long-time buddy, Tucker, had invited me to his place so I didn't have to face spending Christmas Eve alone after our brutal call earlier in the night. We had been dispatched to look for a missing senior citizen, who ended up wandering away from a home and freezing to death. We were both pretty shaken up by her death and didn't need to be alone and thinking about what we could have done better to prevent it.
By Tina D'Angelo2 years ago in Chapters
Body Bag Barry
Recently, I was searching on an online dating site. Don't ask me why. I'm happily married. Perhaps I just wanted to see if I was as invisible as I felt. After the first fifteen minutes with a current photo on my profile, twenty or so eager fellows were sending me hearts and asking to chat. Wow. After an hour, there was a steady stream of requests to meet or chat.
By Tina D'Angelo2 years ago in Criminal
Oh, Deer!
The call came in at 9:45 the Saturday before New Year's. All the alarms had gone off at Dickerson Elementary School. That meant the fire department, rescue squad, and my partner and I would be showing up, along with a bunch of other bored officers. Not that we mind boring. Boring is good for us. Boring is safe and preferable to exciting, which can be dangerous.
By Tina D'Angelo2 years ago in Criminal
The Death of Burlesque
Burlesque’s Tragic Demise In January of 1974, I left my college dorm for the last time and headed for the big city of Rochester, New York to begin my new career. All it took for me to toss my graduation cap into the air and don a sequined G-String was the opportunity to dance my heart out every night and get paid for it. After having danced on Broadway in my mind since I turned five, that was a dream come true.
By Tina D'Angelo2 years ago in Confessions
Snow Much Fun. Content Warning.
Snow Much Fun Tina D’Angelo In my twenties, I lived with a violent man who towered over me at 6’4”. I was a slight 4’11”. When I say that I lived with this man, I mean that I was his prisoner. I was allowed to work and give him my paycheck. I was allowed to go grocery shopping with him and to bars or restaurants he chose to visit.
By Tina D'Angelo2 years ago in Humans
Carve Your Name into My Heart
The 911 missing person call from the Sunnyside Nursing Home came in at 8:45 PM on Christmas Eve. My partner and I had signed on for the extra holiday shift because we didn't have a family waiting at home for us. We were just a couple of twice-divorced, bitter single folks counting down the hours to retirement, living on donuts, coffee, and adrenalin.
By Tina D'Angelo2 years ago in Chapters
