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PROMPTLY PENNED ~ JANUARY

A new year, and some new blogging topics. This week being one of them. It’s called, Promptly Penned. The basics are…everyone will start with the same snippet, then go from there. A flash fiction of sorts, I suppose. Each author can choose how to use the prompt, whether it be dialogue or internal thought or whatever. Which I’m sure will lead to some interesting works. Like a big game of telephone gone wrong, lol. So, here we go at attempt number one.

Promptly Penned

 

Some choices are easy, like fudge ripple or butter pecan, some choices aren’t. Can you guess which one this was?

Detective Kate Stevens shook her head as she pressed her fingers against the bridge of her nose, not that it’d do much good. The headache had already taken root. Nothing but time or drugs would touch it now. And somehow downing half a bottle of Motrin while working a murder didn’t seem like a viable solution. She glanced at the paper again, rereading the words scribbled across the christ white sheet, knowing she’d officially seen it all.

A rumble of thunder sounded off to the east, the promise of rain heavy in the late night air. A nearby streetlight buzzed as it flickered, casting weird shadows against the brick building before settling again. She turned up her collar against a blast of cold, damp air, tucking her hands in her pocket. Seems winter hadn’t quite blown itself out, yet, despite the recent trend of warmer weather.

Footsteps scuffed the pavement behind her as a man moved into her peripheral view. She didn’t need to turn to know who it was. Special Agent Kurt Baxter headed the violent crimes unit for the Seattle branch, and seemed to be the Bureau’s prime choice in interagency ventures. Not that she had a clue why he was here. As far as she was concerned, this was just a routine killing in an alley of one of the poorer districts the city had to offer. Her gaze strayed to the paper lying beside the victim’s bloody body, the words glaring at her. Perhaps routine wasn’t quite the correct term.

Kurt cleared his throat as he crouched beside the corpse, using a pen to twist the paper slightly. He cocked his head to the side, glancing at her as he gained his feet. “Just what this city needs, a killer with a twisted sense of humor.”

Kate crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll admit. I found the note…odd.”

He chuckled. “Odd? It’s creepy as hell, though I think we both know the answer to his question. The way the throat’s been slit, the arcs of blood against the wall…thinking it wasn’t a hard choice for the bastard.”

“I don’t know…all that defensive bruising. The guy fought hard. Could suggest reluctance on the part of our perp.”

“Or the killer’s not as strong as he thought he was.”

Kate snorted, waving at the guy spread out across the black asphalt. “The victim’s easily two twenty and those muscles aren’t fake. Thinking there aren’t many people who’d even consider taking him on. Lord knows, I wouldn’t want to have met him in a dark alley.”

“At least, not to fight.”

“Seriously, Kurt? The guy’s not even cold, yet.”

“But he was pretty. Thinking guys like him would want that noticed, even under these circumstances.” He winked at her. “Especially by a sexier than hell cop.”

“That’s detective to you, G-man.”

Kurt grinned, the simple gesture making her chest tighten. Damn, but the man was handsome. Shaggy brown hair, the perfect amount of scruff, and those eyes—so fucking blue it made her stomach flipflop. She’d had an unfortunate crush on the guy since they’d worked an assignment together six months ago, and bumping into him every few weeks on any potential crossover cases only made the fire in the pit of her gut burn hotter.

She drew in a much-needed breath, turning to fully face him. “So, there something about this case I’m unaware of? A reason I’m going to have to play nice with the Bureau?”

Kurt placed his hand over his heart, the wind tousling his hair around his face. “And here I thought you liked playing nice with me. That hurts, Kate.”

She did her best to ignore the way his words curled over her flesh, making her skin bead as if he’d actually touched her. Damn, she shouldn’t react to him like this. Especially when he’d never indicated he considered her to be anything more than a colleague. And a casual one, at that.

She glanced at the body again. “Is this where you tell me there’s a slew of other bodies just like this one scattered across the country? All with cryptic messages that make your skin crawl? Which makes this whole mess some jurisdictional bullshit? Because honestly, if that note is anything indication on what direction this case is going to take, I might be inclined to just hand it over to you.”

His expression sobered, the lines of his face becoming slightly harsher. He scanned the alleyway, motioning her to join him in a relatively unoccupied area off to their left. Kate followed after him, unsure whether it was curiosity or the inklings of fear making her stomach tighten. Or maybe it was just him. He stopped when he reached a dumpster, looking up and down the narrow road again before focusing on her. Those crystal blue eyes of his made her breath hitch, the intensity of his expression bordering on lethal.

She reached up, palming his shoulder. “Hey, you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost or something.”

“I was better before I got here.”

“Thanks, Kurt. Way to boost my fragile ego.”

He chuckled, leaning in dangerously close. His breath feathered over her cheek, rustling the wisps of hair that had pulled free from her ponytail. “Sweetheart, you’re the only silver lining in this whole damn mess.”

Her face heated as his jaw brushed hers as he eased back, palming the brick behind her head. The position virtually trapped her between him and the building, his chest grazing hers as she took a deep breath. She schooled her features, well aware he could see the red tinge to her cheeks as it faded down the vee of her top. “Obviously, there’s something much deeper going on here than one creepy note and a dead body. So spill.”

Kurt tilted his head slightly, a hushed sigh sounding between them. “It’s complicated.”

“Everything with you is…complicated.”

He arched a brow. “I could say the same thing about you, but…” He raked his free hand through his hair. “For the record, this isn’t the first body. Or the first note. There’s just one catch.”

“There always is.” She moistened her lips, quirking her mouth into a hint of a smile. “And…”

“The truth is, this is the thirteenth victim in a string of killings, all of which have the same MO and the same type of cryptic note.”

“Thirteenth? Strange how I haven’t heard anything about it. Not so much as a bulletin over the wire. There a reason for that?”

“The murders began about sixty years ago. The killer seems to target fit, young males in their prime. There were six deaths then nothing for about forty years. Then suddenly there’s six more. An agent tied the two occurrences together, despite the first incidence being buried beneath a bunch of high security red tape, but he was killed during the investigation. The Bureau pretty much back-burnered the whole thing when the killings stopped as mysteriously as they’d begun. In fact, there hasn’t been another case…until now.”

“And you know all this how? I don’t see you as the cold case type.”

Kurt straightened, glancing at the body over his shoulder before staring down at her. “The agent that unearthed it all, who died twenty years ago, was my father…and I still have all his notes.”

“Shit.” She offered him an apologetic smile. “And sorry about your dad, though that explains a lot about you.”

“You’re, of course, referring to my dedication to the job.”

“I was going to use stubborn obsession, but…” Kate pursed her lips, releasing a weary breath. “Sixty years? You realize that would make the killer at least eighty years old. No way someone that age killed this guy, who could probably take on three attackers at once.” She arched a brow. “You thinking it’s some kind of pact? Continued by family members or friends or something?”

“From the notes my father has, he deduced it was the same killer both times.”

“No way. That would mean the guy was say twenty, then sixty. If the victims all resembled this guy in physique…that’s a stretch.”

“Yeah, puzzling as hell. But, there’s the body. And there’s the note.”

“So you are taking over the investigation.”

Kurt sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before meeting her gaze. “Unfortunately, the Bureau isn’t quite ready to pull out all the stops. Seems they’ve done the math and come to the same conclusion—”

“That the cases can’t be connected do to the length of time. The age of the perpetrator.”

He nodded. “They did give the go ahead to join the investigate if the detective in charge welcomed my help.”

Kate shook her head. “Something tells me I’m going to regret being on call tonight.” She offered him her hand. “Guess this makes us partners.”

He smiled. “Partners. I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah, well don’t get all warm and fuzzy just yet. I have a feeling neither of us is going to like where this leads.”

“My dad died trying to find justice. I’ll take this wherever it goes.”

“We can start with coffee and you’re buying. And I want to see those notes.” She pushed past him, heading for her car.

“Kate!”

She looked at him over her shoulder.

He gave her a genuine smile. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For having enough faith in me to give me a chance.”

“Faith is easy. Answers…much harder.” She turned away again, cursing the butterfly feeling in her stomach. He was right about one thing. She was more than willing to take this wherever it headed. She just hoped it didn’t end like his father’s case had.

 

And that’s all I have. Please check out the other ladies and see if they used this as a line or a scenario.

Bronwyn Green  |  Jessica Jarman  |  Paige Prince

Jessica De La Rosa  |  Kayleigh Jones  |  Kellie St. James

SAME OLE LANG SYNE

Welcome to 2016! I know, it was 2016 on Monday, but this is the first random Wednesday post of the year… and I’m here. First week back to school, and trying desperately to get my head straight and start making those goals a reality. Oh time, you are an elusive creature.

Anyway, this week it’s Remembering 2015—Best Memories.

Honestly, I’m lucky to remember last weekend, let alone most of 2015. And… now you’re all thinking I have a drinking problem, lol. Just a ‘short attention span and memory’ issue as of late. But I digress. Okay… so favourite memories of 2015…and maybe the odd pic to go with?

Getting my convertible. She’s used, but damn… what a fun summer riding around with the top down, tunes playing. And one of the best of these memories… watching my two boys drive off in her, a kayak wedged in somehow, shades on, music playing… and it was midnight! (that’s a long ass story folks…one far too long for here, but OMG… it was the best. And a happy ending to what could have ended much worse for a friend’s daughter)

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Rediscovering hiking and realizing I need to do more of it. And at some point get back into mountaineering and rock climbing.

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Sydney’s amazing performance at the Syd William’s theatre for Canada Day. Partnered with her sister of another mother…Brynn

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Summertime runs. Perfect temperatures along the trails.

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Normally I’d say the annual June retreat with the ladies, but I had to miss it this year as my oldest son graduated… but damn, that will be one of the best memories FOREVER. Way to go, Kyle… so damn proud of you.

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But I did get a picture of the ladies on retreat by proxy… and I love it. They were probably at the Shop Co, don’t ya know… (said with their awesome Yupper accent. Not at all Canadian, eh)

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Mountain biking and actually conquering a double black diamond (with only one scar to show for it! 😀 )

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Kyle getting hired by BC Hockey… youngest ref they have at 18.

Releasing FORCE OF NATURE. I know, but this book… this one is pretty damn dear to my heart.

Force of Nature final

Another holiday season with the kids. They’re getting older and I know, sooner than I want, they’ll have their own families—their own trees and traditions. So… Christmas tree hunting with all three… we laugh, we freeze, we all want to kill Kyle by the time it’s over, but… magical.

I’m sure there are lots more I’ll think about later. The endless trips to Tim Hortons for a cup of steeped tea that has to get me through the day. The other aerial art shows, the hockey games… just hanging and watching movies. I’m starting to realize that most memories are memorable if you do it right. And that’s what I’m trying to aim for… the right stuff.

check out the other ladies and see what their fave times were.

 Bronwyn Green  |  Jessica Jarman  |  Jessica De La Rosa

Gwendolyn Cease  |  Kellie St. James  |  Paige Prince  |  Kayleigh Jones

A PICTURE’S WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ~ JANUARY 2016

A new year, but we’re bringing back some of the fave topics from last year. And honestly, the flash fiction pieces are my favorite, for sure. Seeing how everyone interprets a picture or a song…and this year we’re adding some new twists.  But our first for the year is a picture fiction, on a cool photo. Here’s the image and the resulting story…

And… I had nothing, so… I decided to continue from a much earlier song fiction. You can find it … HERE… if you’d like. Or, just read on.

01-2016 LightinForest

 

Nick kicked the door shut behind him, balancing his and Megan’s weight as he helped her shuffle inside the old cabin. She managed to get several feet in before collapsing against him, a muffled groan rumbling around him. He dropped the first aid kit he’d grabbed out of his Jeep then scooped her up, hating the way her head lolled against his shoulder—her eyes squeezed shut.

He headed for the single bedroom off to the right, placing her in the centre of the large bed. She grimaced, whimpering before seemingly passing out. He cursed, brushing her hair out of her face as he laid the back of his hand across her forehead. Warm, but not dangerously so, yet. With any luck, her wound hadn’t gotten infected.

He clenched his jaw. He’d stopped once they’d cleared the city, despite her protests, and had insisted on examining her side. She hadn’t met his gaze as he’d raised her shirt and removed the blood-soaked bandages, refusing to tell him anything regarding how she’d sustained the injury. Not that he needed any explanation. He knew a knife wound when he saw one. And hers had been deep. She’d finally allowed him to cover it in QuickClot, taping more gauze in place. She’d been quiet ever since, though he realized, now, she’d barely been holding on to consciousness.

“God damn Agency.”

He’d never truly trusted Jordan, or Rawlings, but…had they really held her prisoner for nearly three weeks? Orchestrated the entire sting operation without her knowledge just to screw him over? Megan had eluded to as much, but…

“Fuck!”

He gently removed the bandages, wincing when she moaned. The wound looked as raw as before, but at least the bleeding had stopped. Mostly. He dapped at the laceration, doing his best to hold the edges together as he applied a row of Sterie strips. She grunted with every press of his fingers, the painful sound like jabs to his heart. He hadn’t thought he’d still care. Still feel this connected. After everything that had happened, he’d believed he’d buried his emotions. Buried his love for her. But just staring at the pale cast to her skin, the small twitch of her lips—he hadn’t come close to shutting her out of his life.

Nick sighed, gaining his feet. He walked over to a small closet, grabbing a blanket off of one of the shelves. He laid it across her, tucking her in before heading back to the main area. He headed for the couch, collapsing on the worn cushions. He glanced at the far wall, a tilted photo catching his gaze. His brother had taken the picture just before he’d been posted overseas. Sun setting low, illuminating a pathway close to the cabin in a circle of yellow light. Made the trail look like a portal to some other world. It was also the last photo his brother had taken before…

Nick closed his eyes against the sting. The damn picture was a constant reminder of all he’d lost. All he’d hoped to have with Megan. But now—now he was left trying to puzzle everything out. Deduce the truth amidst a sea of lies. He glanced at the bedroom, her body hidden beneath the patchwork quilt. If she’d truly been playing him, why had some ventured to the bar? Risked her own life when she could have easily have disappeared. Left him and the Agency behind?

He relaxed back. Answers would have to wait until she regained consciousness—felt strong enough to talk. And damn it, she was going to tell him everything. Why her partner had needed Nick to supply them with weapons. Why he’d lied about Megan’s involvement. Hell, what she’d been going to tell him at the restaurant. All of it. And then they’d figure out a way to fix the damn mess he’d made. Get the weapons back. Hell, get his old life back.

His gaze lingered on her silhouette. Truth was—there was no going back. For either of them. He just hoped they both had a future that didn’t end in a pool of blood.

 

That’s all for me. I know… but hey, I had nothing, folks. Seriously, nothing. Now go check out the rest of the crew. A great showing this month… must be resolution time, lol.

Bronwyn Green  |  Jessica Jarman  |  Jessica De La Rosa

Kayleigh Jones  |  Paige Prince  |  Gwendolyn Cease

 

AND WE’RE WALKING…

Another year over…a new one just begun.

New years. A time of reflection, or making changes. And let’s not forget the dreaded resolutions. And it seems with every new year, there are so many resolutions that could be made. Things you want to change. Hell, I have a laundry list of things I’d love to be different. In fact, in 2015, I can honestly say I took positive steps forward. Made the kind of changes I thought would last. Some did, but most… let’s just say that as October rolled in, all those good intentions, those positive steps seemed to falter.

But dwelling on the past, on faltering—that doesn’t help. Actually, it hinders those positive steps forward. So… let’s just say that there were some successes in 2015, and I plan on carrying forward on those. And making more. Which brings me to the topic… goals for 2016.

I like that. Goals instead of resolutions. Because goals you strive towards. Where the journey’s just as important as the destination. Where each step is part of the success. And, now, I sound like a damn fortune cookie. So… goals for 2016.

First, writing.

While I’d love to say my goal is to write a book a month… that’s a pretty hefty one. And it tends to lead to burnout. A more attainable goal? To write. Everyday. (minus obvious days off, lol.) But… I need to make it a priority. And find some kind of balance. So daily writing. Whether it’s a few thousand words or just a page…it all counts. Adds up. And to remember that I love writing.

So that’s another one. To write what I love. To not worry about if there’s something I should write, and get back to writing the stories echoing inside my head. The ones that won’t stop screaming at me. Because that’s the secret.

Cover art.

It’s going well, actually. And I need to keep the momentum up. Keep learning and keep trying to expand, because it’s another love of mine. The big accomplishment is again, finding balance. I get can so caught up playing around with images, I lose track of time. Completely.

Health

Without going into great detail about my body issues and insecurities… and yeah, I have a laundry list of those, as well…anyway, going old school. Weights. Running for the love of it. And riding…a lot more mountain bike riding. I really want to be comfortable doing damn near any black diamond out there. I have a plan… but… that’s a whole other post.

Blogging

I have to say, while I’ve fallen off a bit in the last couple of months, overall, 2015 was a good year in this respect. I went from rarely blogging to weekly, and sometimes twice a week. Only missed one flash fiction all year. So…yeah, a big win in that department. Which means the goal is to keep it up.

Accountability

So… in an effort to keep on track—another positive step—I’m going to start blogging. Weekly. Now it might just be a short few lines, what I’ve written, made and how the workout program is going, but…knowing I have to write it all down. Yeah, for me that’s a big motivator.

I’m sure there are more goals out there. I haven’t even touched on the whole, love life thing…or lack there of. I’m hoping that my mindset in 2016 will be better. And it’ll stay that way. Not sure what else to touch on, though. My life’s boring. Maybe that’ll be a goal. Come up with some more adventurous goals for 2017. While I’m thinking, go visit the other ladies. I’m sure they have way cooler goals…

Bronwyn Green  |  Jessica De La Rosa  |  Paige Prince

Jessica Jarman  |  Kayleigh Jones  |  Gwendolyn Cease

 

FULL OF GRACE ~ SONG FLASH FICTION

Wow…less than a week until Christmas. And I’m at a hockey tournament this entire weekend and Monday. Which means I’m writing this Sunday night. LATE. But… as it’s Sarah and she’s Canadian, I couldn’t bow out. And…I might have picked this one, so… Besides, the woman’s voice. Dear god, it’s angelic. Such a talented lady.

If you’re not familiar with the song, here you go… and here is the story inspired by a song.

 

“Tell me, Michael. How long are you going to stay here, avoiding him?”

Michael muttered under his breath before glancing over his shoulder. Gabriel leaned against a tree, his silhouette illuminated by a warm yellow glow reflecting off a pond, casting a long shadow across the soft grass. His grace shimmered around him—not quite as luminous as it’d once been. More of a muted fluorescence than the blinding light Michael knew surrounded him.

He looked back at the setting sun, watching the different shades of orange and yellow chase each other across the sky. “I think Kei’s love of fire has melted your brain, brother. You’re talking nonsense.”

Gabriel snorted. “Still in denial, I see.”

Michael huffed as the other angel moved in beside him, the man’s gaze taking in the colours staining the clouds. “There’s nothing to deny. I was just watching the sun set.”

“No, you were trying to catch a glimpse of Greyson as he headed out for his nightly check of the various portals dotted along the perimeter.” Gabriel sighed. “Ever since Uriel popped in for an uninvited visit, Grey’s been obsessively vigilant about security. Never seen the guy this diligent before. He’s more of a…playboy. Makes me wonder if he’s got ulterior motives for following such a strict, dare I say, predictable schedule.”

“I’m sure having an archangel lay waste to your homeland changes your priorities.”

Gabriel snickered. “I’ve known Grey for decades. Trust me. Not much gets to him. Which brings me back to my hypothesis that he’s not scouring the borderlands for the good of his people.”

“Why else would he spend all that time alone?”

“Maybe he’s hoping he won’t be alone for long.”

Michael released a weary breath, allowing his head to bow to his chest as his shoulders drooped. “Gabriel…”

“Why are you making this so difficult? I saw the way Grey looked at you. Not to mention the fact he finds a way to bring you up in damn near every conversation. And while I know the reasons for his people giving Kei and me a home here are pure, he doesn’t visit me as often as he does because he lacks for companionship. He’s hoping you’ll drop by.”

Michael glanced at him. “He tell you that?”

“Didn’t have to. The guy’s an open book. But what I find puzzling is why you come here then hide your presence from him.”

“It’s…complicated.”

Gabriel nudged him. “What’s so complicated? He likes you, you like him…”

“I’m an archangel.”

Gabriel laughed. “As am I.”

“You’re…different.”

“Why? Because I have a mate? Or because I’m not as pure as I used to be?”

“I didn’t mean…” Michael raked a hand through his hair. “What you and Kei have…it’s a bond very few of us will ever find. It makes you special.”

“I’m not special, brother. I just listened to my heart instead of all the reasons I shouldn’t let him in.”

“I’m a warrior.”

“So’s Grey.”

Michael threw up his hands, stomping away before spinning. “He’s a prince. Heir to the thrown. Hell, his father is practically a god.”

“And yours is.” Gabriel gave him a small smile. “The only difference between us, Michael, is that I wasn’t afraid to make myself vulnerable. To admit that there’s someone else who means more to me than…me.”

“I’m God’s warrior. I can’t put my own happiness, my needs, above those of his children.”

“If our Father didn’t want us to fall in love, we wouldn’t have fated mates lurking around, waiting for us to find them.”

Michael glanced across the pond as a man appeared on the far side. The fae paused, lifting his head to the sky before letting it fall to his chest as he trudged off. Even this far away, Michael knew it was Greyson. He could feel the other man’s soul beckoning to him like a beacon. Hear the echoed beat of Grey’s heart thrum in his head.

Gabriel cupped his shoulder. “Grey’s a good man. A worthy man.”

“He’s not a man, and I’m afraid I’m the one who isn’t worthy. If you and Kei hadn’t intervened, I’d be dead.”

“And if Kei hadn’t accidentally summoned me, so would I.”

“I don’t think it was an accident.”

“The point is, we all played a part. You saved us equally, I assure you.”

Michael shook his head. “All I did was look like a fool.”

“Michael—”

“I can’t ask Grey to give himself to me. Not when I know there are more than a few entities who’d love to use my feelings against me. He’d be a target.”

“And you think Kei isn’t?” Gabriel motioned to where Greyson had reappeared across the water, the flicking light of a fire wavering next to the fae. “Whether Grey wants to take the risk is his choice.”

“Not if he never knows how I feel.” Michael held up his hand, fighting the urge to simply take to the sky and join the other man on the opposite side of the water. “It’s better this way. Without me…he’ll be free to find someone who can give him what he needs.”

“All he needs is for you to let him in. To love him.”

“He’ll find someone else. Someone far more worthy than I.”

Gabriel grabbed his wrist when Michael turned to leave. “Faeries aren’t that different from us, Michael. He only has one true soul, as well.”

“Then it’s best I leave so he can find it.”

Michael ignored Gabriel’s call as he took off, heading for the portal back to his world. To where there was order. Peace. The sharp pain through his chest didn’t mean anything, least of all that he cared for the fae.

 

And that’s it. Just two other ladies joining in today. See you next month … 2016 baby.

Bronwyn Green  |   Paige Prince

5 WORDS OR LESS ~ DECEMBER

Halfway through December. I’m just starting my Christmas shopping. Funny how I vow to not procrastinate every year, yet, I do, lol. Baby steps. It can be part of my step forwards for next year. Less procrastination. Let’s see if I don’t put that one off, lol.

Anyway, 5 words or less is the topic. The last one for this year. I love these posts because I don’t have to write much. Anyway, this final one is… My past, my present…my future.

My Past,

Less adventurous than hoped.

My Present,

Chaotic, Always late, Pretty good

My Future

Optimistic, Positive steps, no self-sabotaging

 

Take that as you will. Now go check out the other ladies. Lots jumping on board this week.

Bronwyn Green  |  Jessica Jarman  |  Kellie St. James

Jessica De La Rosa  |  Paige Prince

A PICTURE SAYS A 1000 WORDS ~ DECEMBER

I honestly, and sincerely, can’t believe it’s December already. Wasn’t it just September? And don’t even start with me about how Christmas is like, what… a couple of weeks away. I can’t begin to say how unprepared I am. But I digress. So, it’s another flash fiction. I’ve missed a few, but trying to jump back in this week. Here’s the inspirational pic…and a tale spun from it.

12-2015 - LanternBooks

 

“Damn it, Zeke. It’s darker than ass in here.”

Zeke Reddings gave his buddy a punch in the arm. “Seriously, Declan? Drama queen, much?”

Zeke flicked a lighter, holding the tiny flame over the wick. The oil in the old lantern sputtered to life, casting a soft glow off the surrounding trees. Long finger-like shadows danced across the ground, moving with him as he started forward. A narrow path appeared amidst the swaying branches, the thin tunnel limiting his vision to only a few feet.

Declan followed behind him, one hand resting on his shoulder, matching his steps as they wove their way along the corridor. Coyotes yipped somewhere in the distance, the dim outline of a porch appearing out of the darkness. Zeke stumbled to a halt, tripping forward when Declan walked into him.

“Shit. A little head’s up would be appreciated, dude.” Declan shifted to Zeke’s side, his hand sliding down to rest on the small of Zeke’s back. “So…you sure this is the place?”

“Right. Because there are so many deserted cabins in the middle of the forest.”

Declan gave him a shove. “You don’t have to be an ass about it. We both know what’s in there. Might be wise to be absolutely sure.”

Zeke pulled out a compass, holding it in the small circle of light. The arrow spun clockwise before finally settling, the head pointing toward the doorway. An eerie blue glow illuminated the face then winked out.

Zeke arched a brow, glancing at the man—his true soul—as he motioned to the compass. “Proof enough for you?”

Declan sighed. “Is it wrong that I was secretly hoping we’d screwed up somewhere along the way? That this would be nothing more than an empty shack in the woods?” He chuckled, though it sounded forced. “A place to create a different kind of memory.”

Zeke palmed Declan’s chest, the steady beat of the man’s heart soothing his own fears. “Not wrong. And I wish we were here for that kind of encounter, too.” He glanced back at the door. “Can’t help but wonder what’s inside.”

Declan placed his hand over Zeke’s, squeezing Zeke’s fingers. “Guess there’s only one way to find out. I just hope that damn gypsy wasn’t shitting us. Hell of a long-ass way to come only to discover we’ve been played.”

“She gave us the damn compass on her death bed. Hell, these instructions were her dying words. I don’t think people make that kind of shit up for giggles.” He reached behind him, removing a silver blade from his pocket. He held up the shiny metal, watching the light glint off the edge. “But on the off-chance I’m wrong…”

“Silver? Really?”

Zeke huffed. “We know all too well that werewolves and faeries are real.”

“Yeah, and so is freaking bigfoot, but none of those are waiting inside.”

“We’re talking about the missing tomes of Atlantis. You think they won’t be guarded?”

Declan gave him a weary smile. “By wards. Barriers. Not creatures we can slay.”

“When’s the last time you shanked a werewolf, buddy? Because I’m pretty damn sure the answer is never.”

“I didn’t…” Declan raked a hand through his hair. “What I mean is…creatures can be killed. Spells…spells take skill. Knowledge. A certain breed of warrior.”

“My Enotian is pretty damn rusty.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s our birth tongue. We’ll remember what we need.” He nodded toward the door. “You ready?”

Declan didn’t wait for Zeke to answer, choosing to climb the first step. He extended his hand, clasping Zeke’s fingers in his as they ascended the four stairs to the porch. A blue door gleamed in the lamplight, the silver handle shiny as if fuelled by some inner power. Zeke nodded when Declan reached for it, staying beside his lover as the other man twisted the knob. The hinges groaned in protest as the slab swung inward, revealing nothing but more shadows.

They crossed the threshold, not surprised when the door shut behind them on its own, locking out any hope of escape. Zeke held up the lantern, chasing away the darkness. Barren walls stared back at them, not a single piece of furniture within the walls.

“God damn it.” Declan took a couple of heavy steps inside. “It’s all empty.”

Zeke grabbed his arm, yanking him back to his side. “No. It’s warded to appear that way. Can’t you feel it?” He inhaled, the steady thrum of the energy field vibrating through his chest. “There’s a barrier.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. Guess my emotions are clouding my other senses.” He winked at Zeke. “Your fault, entirely. You’re far too much of a distraction.”

“Jackass.” Zeke handed Declan the lamp. “Guess it’s time to see how much I’ve forgotten.”

Zeke drew a deep breath, slowing reciting the words he hoped would counter the spell. Blue specks erupted in the darkness, cascading along an invisible plane until the entire width of the cabin had been joined by a thousand tiny pinpoints of light. Zeke repeated the chant, knowing it’d take three incantations to fully activate the ritual—each reading giving the sparks more energy until he had to shield his eyes against the glare. There was a moment of strumming power as the last word seemed to hang in the air before the barrier exploded in a hiss of fire, raining down crystallized light on the wooden floor.

Zeke waved his hand in the air, clearing the lingering hint of smoke before his breath simply stalled in his chest. A single table stood in the centre of the room, the top illuminated from some hidden source.

Declan slapped his chest, his face beaming with pride before he grabbed Zeke’s hand—leading them both over to the table. Three old, weathered books had been stacked on the surface, some of the pages already starting to curl along the edge. Declan placed the lantern off to one side as he leaned down, gently blowing off a layer of dust. A series of symbols adorned the cover of the top volume, the intricate patterns embossed into the leather.

Declan ran his fingers across the markings, glancing at Zeke. “Holy shit. You did it. You actually broke the enchantment.” He swallowed noisily, his rough breath sounding loud in the stillness. “Do you know what this means?”

“Easy, Dec, there’s no guarantee we’ll find what we’re looking for. That these books hold the answers we need. The maps.”

“Oh, they’re in here. I can feel it.” He shook his head, the tension easing from his shoulders. “After over a century stuck in the human realm, we actually have a chance at going—”

“Home.” Zeke gave the other man a genuine smile. “We might actually go home.”

 

And that’s all for me… now check out the other ladies. Always amazing to see what they create.

Bronwyn Green  |  Jessica Jarman  |  Jessica De La Rosa

TOO ERR IS HUMAN…

Wow, I’ve actually made a Wednesday post. At least, I’m hopeful that this will become the actual post, lol. How does life get so busy? Why aren’t there 30 hours a day and 8 days in a week. Why don’t I have an army of clones, yet? Surely this is scientifically possible. I will make it so…

And there’s a flashback to Star Trek, Next Generation. Make it so…

Fine, I’m stalling. Mostly because I always think the topic will be easy but it rarely is. And this week we’re discussing—

Mistakes from my first manuscript—how I’ve grown as a writer.

Honestly, that seems so long ago. It’s going on six years now, but after writing so many books since then, it’s hard to remember those first few edits. But I’ve definitely grown as an author, and here’s what stands out. What I notice if I reread those early works.

1—name calling. Dear god, the characters said each other’s name in dialogue so much. As in an insane amount. In reality, we only probably say a person’s name once maybe twice in an entire exchange. Yet, I had mine saying it almost every other line. I’d like to think I’ve learned this one, lol.

2—tagging dialogue. Looking back, I can’t believe how many muttered, and shouted, and bit outs I had. Not that there’s anything wrong with using these, but I’ve come to realize that tagging with action is so much more effective. That describing the scene often relieves the author from having to add words like whispered, or shouted. This is one thing I’d definitely change if I ever rewrote those works.

3—not streamlining descriptions. Sometimes saying less really is more. No one needs a nonstop commentary of what’s happening. At least, not all the time.

4—the too stupid to live scenario. Or even simply stopping to talk in the middle of the action—or having sex at the wrong times, too. I will admit, that on occasion, I had my characters do something that was definitely the equivalent to the age old horror movie trope of…let’s split up. In fact, I’ve gotten to the point where I hear my editor’s voice in my head saying “would they really stop and talk now?” Or, “Is this a good time and place for sex?” I HEAR IT IN MY HEAD!

5—I don’t do well with short pieces. Okay, not sure this is a mistake as much as a revelation, but it’s true just the same. I don’t write short pieces well. There’s definitely an art to keeping a work contained. Hell, an idea contained. When I think of a story idea, it’s always epic. Thus, you won’t see me volunteering to be part of a short collection of stories. I just hate the pressure of keeping to a certain word count. Give me fifty or sixty thousand words, and I might pull it off, but even then. A book needs to go until it’s over, lol. And I seem to need a lot of words to accomplish that.

Now, I’m sure there are tons more. That I screwed up and continue to screw up, lots of stuff. But I just can’t think of them. But all of this serves to remind us that we all, yes all, need a good editor. Please check out the other ladies and see how far they’ve come.

Bronwyn Green  |  Jessica Jarman  |  Jessica De La Rosa

Gwendolyn Cease  |  Kayleigh Jones

A PICTURE TELLS A THOUSAND WORDS ~ NOVEMBER

So, time jumped back this weekend. While I love the extra hour it does mean one depressing thing—far more darkness. And early. I’m starting to realize why summer really is my favourite season. Not for the heat. It’s the endless daylight. Being able to run at 9 at night if I want. Watching the sun set at 10:30. Having twilight last until 11. I love the fall weather. The cool temperatures and the colours. Leaves scattered along the ground as I run. But the darkness—guess I need to become a vampire or werewolf. Something to get into the prolonged nights.

Anyway, It’s another picture flash fiction. I love the photo for this one. So many ways it can go. This short excerpt is a hint at a story I have been wanting to write for some time, but haven’t gotten there yet…a paranormal thriller. Maybe soon…

 

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“You can’t go on like this, Sarah. It’s killing you.”

Sarah Kendall glanced at William—her brother, not to mention her only friend—across her shoulder, noting the creases furrowing his brow. How the fine lines around his mouth had pulled tight. His usual calm exterior had vanished, leaving a side of him she rarely witnessed. Not since she’d locked the rest of the world out. Hidden away inside their house.

He arched a brow. “You need to call the Bureau. Report it. You won’t find peace until you do.”

She looked away, staring out at the setting sun. Dark clouds stained the horizon, the promise of rain heavy in the breeze that carried through the open window, billowing the curtains pulled to either side. She released a weary breath, wishing she could simply turn it all off. “You know what they’ll say.”

“Since when are you concerned about what others think about you?”

Anger heated her cheeks as she spun to face him. “Since it cost me everything.”

William crossed his arms over his chest. “You were the one who pushed everyone away. Pushed him away.”

“Do you think I wanted to? Do you think I enjoy locking myself up in this god forsaken house?” She snorted. “I had no other choice.”

“You could have told him. It’s not like he doesn’t know about your…gift.”

“Gift?” She laughed, the sound brittle. “It’s a fucking curse.” She tapped her head. “And it’s only getting worse.”

She turned away again, palming the windowsill when another vision slammed into her. A hint of smoke curled around her, the feel of rough stone cold against her feet. Chains clanked against the rock walls, patches of sunlight creating shadowed boxes on the floor. A hollow cry filled her head, followed by nothing, but silence.

“Sarah.”

She swallowed past the lump in her throat—the bitter taste of bile making her cough. Noises sounded around her, the telltale clatter of objects crashing to the floor breaking the quiet. Hands cupped her arms, William’s breath warm against her neck.

“Breathe. Just listen to my voice and slow your breathing.” His fingers squeezed slightly when another object impacted the floor behind them. “Rein it in, honey.”

She wanted to scream. Tell him she had no fucking clue how to rein it in. How to stop the room from shaking, keep his thoughts from bombarding her in an unrelenting stream inside her mind. How to push the images from her head without losing what little remained of her sanity. Of her!

Instead, she drew a few shaky breaths, gradually allowing the power to seep back beneath the surface. A brief respite from the all-consuming nightmare that followed her around like a shadow. She didn’t know why it hit so hard then retreated, but she wasn’t going to waste the few moments of relative peace.

William wrapped his arms around her. “You can’t keep this inside. It used to get better when you talked about it. Shared it.”

“That was before they deemed me a freak. Before it got this bad. This strong.”

“You mean before you left him.”

“I couldn’t trust myself not to hurt him. Fuck, Will, I sent him flying across the room because of an argument. A stupid, bloody argument.” She let her head bow to her chest. “What if I’d really been angry?”

“You never would have hurt him. I know you, Sarah, and that’s not who you are.”

She eased out of his embrace, putting some much needed distance between them. “You mean what I am. And you haven’t got a clue what I’m truly capable of.”

“Power or not, you’re still the girl I grew up with. Still my sister.”

“Step-sister.”

His footsteps echoed through the room before his hands grabbed her shoulders, spinning her to face him. “Don’t fucking do this. Don’t push me away because you know I’m right. And I don’t care if we’re related by blood or not.”

She looked away, leaning her back against the wall. “You’re right. I didn’t mean it that way, it’s just…” She glanced up at him. “You’re the only one who doesn’t think I’m crazy.”

He smiled, tucking some hair behind her ear. “That’s because I already know you are.”

“Jerk.”

His smile faded. “You need to tell the Feds what you know. What you’ve seen. The visions won’t stop until you do.”

“Telling the Feds won’t stop them. You know that.”

“But it’ll ease your conscience. Maybe let you get some sleep. Keep some food down.”

Her chin quivered. “He’s leading the investigation. I checked.”

William muttered under his breath. “So make an anonymous call. The sooner they catch this creep, the sooner this stops.”

“But that’s the problem. It’s never going to stop. Not until I either learn to control it, or it kills me. And I haven’t been able to gain the upper hand in twenty years.”

William thumbed her jaw. “Then we’ll just have to try harder.” He eased back. “I’ll come and get you once it’s dark. Drive you to that old phone booth by the mechanic’s shop. Harder to trace that way.”

She watched him head for the door. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

He gazed back at her. “Drive you across town?”

“Stay here with me. You get to live your own life. Don’t you think it’s about time you found someone nice and settled down?”

“And miss making you crazy?” He shook his head. “Try to sleep for a couple of hours. I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

Sarah sighed as her brother left, once again staring out the window. William was right about one thing. She was crazy, and it didn’t look as if her sanity was anywhere close to returning.

 

That’s it for me. Now visit the rest of the gang and see what they came up with.

Bronwyn Green  |  Jessica Jarman  |  Kellie St. James

Jessica De La Rosa  |  Paige Prince

 

5 WORDS OR LESS WEDNESDAY

After epically failing to post on Monday for Flash Fiction… damn you time… I’m here for an easier post. Okay, these aren’t actually that easy, but I’ll try, damn it.

So I thought it was a wordless Wednesday. And the topic is… My style, my looks, my personality. But nah nah… it’s 5 WORDS OR LESS WEDNESDAY. But you know what… fuck it. I’m leaving in the photos that go with the words… so BAM… Okay here goes….

 

Unique, Chaotic, Athletic, Natural, Casual

And now, the endless images I thought I was supposed to post…enjoy 🙂

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Now check out the other ladies.

Bronwyn Green  |  Jessica Jarman  |  Jessica De La Rosa

Gwendolyn Cease  |  Paige Prince