top of page
  • N. N. Light

MOMcarcerated by M.R. Abbott is a humorous book worth reading #99cents #99c #humor #satire #motherhood #bookboost

Title: MOMcarcerated


Author: M.R. Abbott


Genre: Humor/Satire


Book Blurb:


Follow this humorous tale of a stubborn, aging widow who finds herself incarcerated much to the exasperation of her grown children.


MOMcarcerated presents Hedwig Elisabeth Dorner, or Mom, as a sprightly and relatively agile widow of seventy-six years. She loves to crochet, watch infomercials, and take care of her garden, itself a glowing testament to the skill and green thumb of her now-departed husband. Mom is usually accompanied by Lola, her faithful canine companion and best friend. Lola is devoted and loyal even when Mom forgets to feed her.


Things happen… such as when Mom slashes into an irrigation line as she hacks at weeds, creating a flood that flows into her neighbor’s yard. Another time, after Mom’s unsuccessful attempt at burning a pile of yard refuse, the pile ignites on its own, setting the same neighbor’s fence on fire. Then, there’s a seemingly unscrupulous neighbor who doesn’t appreciate Mom’s nosiness in his affairs.


Mom’s three grown children, Iris, Rosie, and Eric, agree that it’s time to convince their fiercely independent mother to sell her property and move somewhere smaller. It’s not an easy task, but eventually Mom capitulates. However, she has her own ideas.


Mom takes things into her own hands and heads to the senior center in her late husband’s old diesel Mercedes. The plan? Find herself an “old geezer” to marry so she won’t have to move. But before Mom can execute her plan, she ends up behind bars.


With credible and well-crafted characters, MOMcarcerated is engaging, funny, and heartwarming. The action-packed plot keeps you reading until the end where you are sure to say like Mom, “It’s a blessing.”




Jim’s old Benz sat inside the garage. Avocado green paint and shiny thick chrome harkened back to another era. The avocado green hubcaps matched the body of the old girl and completed the classic image of the vintage Mercedes sedan.


The door opened from the house. Mom made her entrance into the garage, looking… well, looking captivating red. She was wearing a nice red top, her simple black skirt, and had done her makeup just right. In fact, she cleaned up real nice considering, most of her days, she dressed to putter in her garden or sit in front of the TV and order infomercial products. Her hair, however, remained unchanged… straight, mostly erect, and gray, suggesting her personality was still very much intact.


Lola followed her out.


Mom left her cane by the door and with a hand on the car, walked around to the driver’s side and set her handbag on the roof. Then she went back around and opened the passenger side door. It groaned as old car doors made of heavy metal do. Lola stuck her snout in and sniffed. It smelled of old leather, open air car rides, and… Jim.


Mom nudged Lola. “Go on. Go on in, girl.” Lola looked up at Mom with full eyes. Mom put her hands on her hips. Her lips pursed, she tilted her head up and sideways, and she zeroed in on Lola with a serious sassy duck look. “What?” she demanded. “Of course, I can drive. Now get in!”


Lola swallowed, looked into the car, back up at Mom, and didn’t budge. Mom reached down in exasperation and positioned all her ninety-five pounds of persevering obstinance behind Lola. Scra-atch! Scra-ape!


Lola dug her nails in, but Mom shoved hard. “You get your doggie behind in here like I tell you!” she huffed.


With Lola in, minus a doggie nail or two, Mom hurriedly shut the door. She straightened up, smoothed her clothes, and picked up her cane. She went around again to the driver’s side and quickly pushed the cane in first so Lola couldn’t get out; then she slid into the driver’s seat. “Oof!” escaped her lips.


Atop the roof of the car, on the driver’s side, her handbag waited.




Rosie sat cross-legged on the sofa in her den, papers strewn around her. Underneath the papers, a voice could be heard.


“Go to the senior center and find an old geezer to marry….” said Iris from the speaker phone.


Rosie swished the papers aside to better speak into her phone. “What?! How could you forget to tell me that?”


“You kind of rushed off, remember?” Iris reminded her.


“Like I had a choice,” said Rosie dryly. “How does she think she’ll get to the senior center – with the old Benz?”


Iris tried not to sound worried. “Maybe I should call Eric – have him go get it.”


Rosie’s sling shot sat nearby, idle. She reached for it at the mention of Eric and pulled the pouch back. This time she aimed it at the papers. “Eric the Baby? It would give him a little more time away from the ‘big M.’ Unless she has another hair appointment, of course.” She put the sling shot down again. “Nah… I wouldn’t worry about it, Sis. Mom hasn’t driven in years.”

“That’s true. I don’t think she knows where the keys are either.”




From the floor on the passenger side inside the Benz, Lola looked up at Mom with soulful eyes. She licked her snout nervously.


Mom fiddled, twisting this way and that, searching. “Now where are the keys?” She tilted her head and zeroed in on captive Lola with another sassy duck look. “You know, don’t you? You probably hid them!”


Lola lowered her head on her paws, settling in for a wait of unknown duration.


Mom opened the driver’s side door again. “Oof!” she muttered. She headed for the door.


Inside the living room, Mom plopped down in her easy chair in frustration. Her gaze wandered to where Jim’s photo used to be on the wall cabinet. Suddenly, her face lit up. “Of course! Jim’s office!”


Ru-umble! The engine turned over as Mom nodded smugly inside the Benz. She gave it a little more gas, and it started to rumble louder but instead jolted with a knock knock sound from the engine. Mom frowned briefly, looking over the hood of the car with the sassy duck look. Soon the old diesel settled into a comfortable rumble, and Mom smiled. “I knew the old girl still had it in her.”


Shifting into reverse, Mom began to slowly back the Benz out of the garage. There was a resounding thud! Mom shoved her foot on the brake. She turned around to look. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” she complained. The garage door was still shut.


Mom took the remote off the visor and pushed one of the buttons. Nothing happened. She pushed another one. With a creak and a grating scrape, the garage door started to go up, but then with another creak and more scraping, it went back down.


Lola laid a paw over her face.


Mom shoved the shifter into drive so that the Benz rolled forward a bit. She pushed the remote button again. Creak! The garage door rolled up, shaking and shuddering until it reached the top. Putting the shifter in reverse again, Mom backed the Benz slowly onto the driveway and stopped. She pushed the button again, and the garage door worked its way down, shaking and vibrating from misalignment.


The Benz turned and drove up the long driveway to the road. A blinker came on, then with a lurch, it swung wide onto the road. With the tailpipe puffing out black diesel exhaust, the Benz was off. On the roof, on the driver’s side, Mom’s handbag sat upright, stalwart and steady as the Benz gained speed.


Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub):


Grab your e-copy on sale for 99 cents!





Author Biography:


M.R. Abbott has been writing fiction in both screenplay and novel formats since 2010 when she and her husband became empty nesters and moved to Europe. Living in Germany for four years provided time and inspiration to write.


M.R. enjoys research and travel, particularly as it relates to subjects and characters that she develops in her stories. Her faith in God and love of family are recurring themes that are woven in to give audiences and readers that aha moment of personal connection and revelation.


Home is a relative term to M.R. and her husband of forty-one years. They’ve been accused of moving a lot. They do put their wanderlust to good use to visit their five children and eight grandchildren in the states of Nevada, Utah, and Georgia.


While there are many verses that are highlighted in M.R.’s beloved, worn and tattered Bible from the 1970’s, there is one verse that over the years has become her favorite:

“Now glory be to God, who by His mighty power at work within us is able to do far more than we would ever dare to ask or even dream of – infinitely beyond our highest prayers, desires, thoughts, or hopes.” Ephesians 3:20 (TLB)


Social Media Links:


1 Comment

N. N. Light
N. N. Light
May 09

Thank you for sharing your book with us! It sounds like a great read for Mother's Day!

bottom of page