Please Comment!

We love feedback, and so do our authors! Take a moment and write a comment about one of the books listed on our website at Let other readers know about our book offerings, and let us know what we can do to improve your moonShine experience. Feel free to share those comments on our Facebook page, too!

All you have to do is click on “Leave a Comment” at the bottom of this post or go to

Thanks in advance for your feedback,

Anne Kaylor

Correction: Bios for Elizabeth B. Watson and Douglas Wyant

My profound apologies to Elizabeth B. Watson and Douglas Wyant for omitting their bios in this latest issue of moonShine review. Please read them here:

Elizabeth Watson morphed into a semi-retired housewife when the Watsons moved to a retirement community in Greenville, SC. She has not retired from writing, reading, and taking classes at Furman University to improve her skills. Life is good, especially when she’s published in moonshine review and other anthologies.

Douglas Wyant, a Pushcart Prize nominee, has received a Scott Lax Wildacres Scholarship and Carrie McCray Memorial Literary Awards for fiction and nonfiction from the South Carolina Writers’ Workshop. His fiction has been published in The Petigru Review, moonShine review, and American Fiction.

I apologize for this error.

Best to all,
Anne Kaylor


HOLIDAY SPECIALS at www.moonShine


Celebrate the holidays and give the gift of a book. We’ve recently expanded our offerings and many are at a substantial discount during the month of December. Check out our Contributors’ and Editors’ Releases. And don’t forget the latest issue of moonShine review!

MR-Cover-Issue 11-2-2015-FRONTWEBmoonShine review
volume 11, issue 2, fall/winter 2015

ORDER NOW for the flat rate of $10.00 per book, including tax & shipping. Additional discount offered on shipping if you order 3 or more copies by emailing your order directly to!

moonshine-paypal-button***Discount available online only.***

To order, click on the button at right, which will take you to Paypal. If you wish to purchase multiple copies, please email

Thank you!

Anne Kaylor
Executive Editor & Publisher

Pre-order Your Fall/Winter Issue of moonShine review!

MR-Cover-Issue 11-2-2015-FRONTWEB
moonShine review
volume 11, issue 2, fall/winter 2015

This issue marks several milestones for us, including the largest number of submissions from the most authors ever, and more submissions from outside the United States than ever before. Thank you all for getting the word out and making this a simply spectacular issue!


Featured Authors: Charles Edward Brooks, Steve Cushman,
David Harris, Lawrence D. Keith, Alice Osborn, Stephen R. Roberts,
Erin Ryan, Maureen Sherbondy, Bob Strother, Irena Tervo,
Jessica Van den Ancker, Elizabeth B. Watson, and Douglas Wyant

Featured Photographer: Kathleen Pompe


Since we’ll release just in time for the holidays, we’re offering a discount to anyone who pre-orders between now and December 1, 2015. Instead of $12.50 per book (includes tax & shipping), you’ll pay a flat rate of $10.00 per book, including tax & shipping—and we’ll give you additional discounts on shipping if you order 3 or more copies by emailing your order directly to!

moonshine-paypal-button***Please note above email address is new and should be used for all orders. Special discount is available online only through this website.***

To pre-order, click on the “ORDER” button at right, which will open a new window and take you to Paypal. If you wish to purchase multiple copies, please email

Thank you!

Anne Kaylor
Executive Editor & Publisher

Congratulations to Beth Ann Cagle on her latest Poetry Collection

First Comes Love-Cover-front


First Comes Loves
Author: Beth Ann Cagle
Publisher: Main Street Rag Publishing Company

ISBN: 978-1-59948-516-4, 80 pages
Cover Price: #14

Order through the Main Street Rag Publishing Company’s Online Bookstore.


Poignantly simple, the title of Beth Ann Cagle’s poetry collection, First Comes Love, creates a paradoxical tone to the book as a whole. While we cannot help but hear the echo of children chanting a playground song, a youthful declaration of idealism, we yet anticipate what follows will be far from such chimerical conceptions. Thus, the inherent irony associated with these three simple words evolves through a myriad of trials and emotional upheaval, engaging us in a life of struggle—through marriage, illness, and doubt—but always one of hope, understanding the truth lies within knowing one’s self first. It is no accident the title poem is saved for last and is written to embrace the reader in this journey of sacrifice and sacrament.
—Anne Kaylor, moonShine review Executive Editor & Publisher
Author, Unwilling to Laugh Alone and Floating a Full Boat

It’s no wonder Beth Ann Cagle begins her book First Comes Love with a quote from Carol Christ, a well-known writer and educator on women’s spirituality and feminist theology. Ms. Cagle’s poetry explores the places where sensuality and spirituality meet, and where health crises, divorce, and other life challenges are leaping off points for insight and growth. As Christ states, “The ability to face the darkness in [our] lives is an indication of strength, not weakness.” Or as Cagle says in “Fear of Falling”: “I/claim riches behind sight, find/reason to take flight without fear.” Thank you, Ms. Cagle, for creating such a powerful collection where I can experience both the sting of recognition such as in the poem “Coming Loose” and also the laugh-out-loud humor of a poem like “Honeymoon Interrupted—Oak Island, NC.”
—Malaika King Albrecht, Founding Editing of Redheaded Stepchild
Author, What the Trapeze Artist Trusts, Spill, and Lessons in Forgetting

First Comes Love is not just a collection of poems—it is a story, the story of a life, a powerful, moving, sometimes funny story of how the narrator grows and matures through a series of crises from the passionate but immature girl of Part I, through the near-death experiences of Part II, into the mature, intelligent, independent, savvy woman of Part III. You can’t just read SOME of these poems. You have to read the whole book to get the full impact of this story. I loved reading it, both times!
—Anthony S. Abbott, Author, The Angel Dialogues


Beth Ann Cagle, of Charlotte, NC, is author of the first place award-winning poetry chapbook The Fearless Tattoo (Shadow Press 2003Beth Pic), editor of Kakalak: Carolina Poetry & Art, and senior editor of moonShine review. Having served as a newspaper reporter and college educator, she has taught creative writing, literature, and various other English courses at Rowan-Cabarrus Community College and Cape Fear Community College. She earned, with honors, her BA in English and psychology (1993 and 1994 respectively) and her MA in English (2000) from UNC Charlotte. Beth’s poetry has won many awards and her poems, photographs, and memoir have appeared in numerous journals across the U.S., U.K., and Australia, including Slipstream, New York Quarterly, Tulane Review, Blue Collar Review, GSU Review, Maelstrom, Pine Songs, Plain Songs, Palo Alto Review, Monas Hieroglyphica, Sensations Magazine, The Main Street Rag, and Iodine Poetry Journal. Beth is working on two additional poetry books with the working titles A Family Memoir and Sylvia Plath in First Person.



Honeymoon Interrupted—Oak Island, NC

Pesticide hangs thick in the oceanfront
condo we rented months ago—

so thick my asthma kicks in. I wheeze
all the way to the cheapest inn in town.

The Captain’s Cove looks like a warehouse
on the outside, rooms in rows. Crowded inside.

Bed a foot from the wall. And the shower stall
isn’t built for sex, even if I hadn’t been wheezing.

Next morning, the real estate lady says,
“Every condo on the island’s been sprayed.”

We rent a house real cheap on the bay. For Sale
sign in the yard. First floor under heavy renovations.

Today, the hammering drives us to the Family Dollar.
Deprived of our honeymoon rights,

you say you’re frisky—I’ll call it depraved.
On the toy isle, we find handcuffs.

In the women’s department, scarves
when you can’t find rope.

And I have brought my fishnets with red stilettos—
knowing your hosiery and shoe fetish.

From the bedroom, we hear knocking
at the front door, decide to ignore it—

being mostly naked and all,
not to mention me half tied up.

The second knock goes unheeded. Suddenly, keys
jangle in the lock as the front door squeaks open.

Compromised, I dangle halfway off the bed;
you lunge for jeans as we hear the real estate lady
say, “And this is the living room.”


Blooming Gladiolas

Grandma Sims was seventy-six when they
laid her youngest daughter’s body out
in a funeral home’s furniture-less room
surrounded by crosses of flaming gladiolas.
She said, “A mother should never live
to see her children die.”

When this third daughter died of a stroke,
Grandma laid her own body out—
on the living room’s yellow checkered couch
in a white slip to match her hair—
and her brain bloomed into a gladiola
red as the moon slipping away from earth.

The next spring, they lay my body out
on a gurney under lights that multiply
into dozens of brilliant gladiolas as
my eyes pull sideways from the pressure
of blood straining against my brain; inaugural
elegies pierce the limp petal of my tongue.

My legs hang flaccid after six days flat
on a rolling bed in neuro-intensive care.
A catheter courses the veins past my eardrum,
and I learn the lucid morphine lie:
my aching brain cries out around my eyes
long after my tongue sponges silence.

My mother, second daughter, cries above my bed
for days, rubbing her trembling hands and praying.
Nearing death, blood spills from my vulva—
the final vaginal bloom—and mother carefully
washes the petals from my body’s cavity
as the catheter bathes clots from my brain.

After nine days, I rise up and walk
on tender stalks descending an undulating
hallway to a window where I watch
a pallid moon slip back into waiting
earth. I steady myself against the pane;
the scent of gladiolas pours from my room.


Marriage Counseling After Twenty Years

We hesitate weightless
on the wait-list of danger.

What is it that falls on us,
on our hearts, to decipher,

pulls us in at the ankles, into
the smoke-filled trees of argument,

gives us too much pause, loping in
from the fog of forgetting?

What is it, in the split second
the counselor speaks, that calls me

to twist my loose wedding band,
like habit, back to the foreground?

Tension layers us with grave dirt,
the granite tableau already engraved.


moonShine review DEADLINE NOW SEPTEMBER 30th! | moonShine review

Hi moonShine fans! Good news if you have that story still tucked away and ready to send somewhere. We’re extending our submissions deadline for our fall/winter issue to September 30th. That gives you an extra MONTH to pull together those creative prose pieces you are dying to share!
We haven’t received the number of submissions we usually do, and we understand why, especially if your 2015 has been as action-packed and overwhelming as ours so far. We want all of you to have this extra time to submit your quality work.
Please check out our submission guidelines at for recent updates, and submit your work via email to
As always, we appreciate your participation and hope to receive your work soon.
Best and keep on writing!
Anne Kaylor
Executive Editor & Publisher

via moonShine review DEADLINE NOW SEPTEMBER 30th! | moonShine review.

New Poetry Collection by Anne Kaylor

Unwilling to Laugh Alone - COVER for webBetween my duties as publisher of moonShine review and my editing and design work, it’s no small miracle when I find time to write. So, I am delighted to relay that my new poetry collection, Unwilling to Laugh Alone, is finally finished. Now I need YOU to make it a success! This book offers something for everyone—to entice you further, I’ve included sample poems below and you can check out my
bio, reviews of the book, and other poems on my publisher’s website.

Thanks to Main Street Rag Publishing Company, Unwilling to Laugh Alone will be released November 2015, just shy of my 50th birthday. It will sell for $14 cover price. BUT you can pre-order now for just $7.50 (plus tax & shipping) by following this link to the MSR Online Bookstore:

If that link doesn’t work, please visit and click on the “Coming Soon” tab. Scroll down to find my book listing.

Alternately, Main Street Rag does take checks. The price is a flat rate of $12.50 per book regardless of quantity, which includes shipping and sales tax. Let me know if you want me to email you the mail-in order form to pay by check.

Please remember your advance order gives you this fantastic discount, but you’ll have to wait to receive the book in November—just IN TIME for my 50th. So, order now!

Thank you all,
Anne Kaylor

SAMPLE POEMS FROM Unwilling to Laugh Alone:


Just above my right ear—
where the trunk of this gnarled oak
branches out and my hammock ties off—
there’s a hollowed crook.

Filled with last night’s rain,
this rotting niche sprouts mushrooms,
gathers leaves, hosts a wily woodpecker
who shares its bath.

Notches carved into bark
mark my growth in youth,
but I regret these wounds
as age bends me, too.

I sway to the same wind
that pushes darkened limbs
and wonder if we’re kindred now,
each reaching for our last rest.

The oak turns to winter and, I fear,
the sleep from which it won’t rouse—
the crook is a thief silently stealing
my old friend’s time.

Bright Sky, Cole Night
   ~ For Charles Urrey, 1954–2014

His battered hands are bruised yet
never beaten. Kneading with need,
he molds honey-laced love, even as
his broken body grows too fragile
to touch.

Yet nothing—not even hours
preparing the gear nor single-digit
degrees—surpasses his desire to stargaze
tonight as the clouds part to reveal

By motorized chair, his fingers navigate
him in this rural setting where clarity of sky
matches a crystal mind. He begs to be lifted,
to gaze at his dark heaven, but his frame
betrays him.

His cognizance is caged by tongue;
sagging, his view clings to earth.
But inside, his own unforgettable jazz
blares a timbre acclaiming life and he sheds
death’s tainting touch

for one more day, his Stetson
firmly in place as we break bread,
heedless of the odds.

Without Ends

Without gets such a bad rap. We torture
the poor word with connotations—to be
without anything is to miss out on something,
to lose an opportunity. But what about being
   without warts

End is not much luckier. Though a solid word,
it’s not very pretty, easy to say but hard to do,
always telling us when something is over—
   the end of a movie
      or a good book
           a bottle of wine
                or the rest of life.

Yet happily ever afters come after
the end, and Jesus just wanted to end
our suffering. Funny how we attach
such meaning to so little, just two
small words make all our difference.

These words come together as if forced
by our gravity, drawn close by our need
to change the final chapter. But, with both,
we find we don’t have to finish anything—
    not our broccoli
      or homework
           not the race
                 or last piece of pie

And certainly—not ever—our love.