Monthly Archives: March 2019

Wednesday Words #221 (3/20/2019)

Welcome to Wednesday Words!  Every Wednesday I will post some sort of prompt for a flash fiction piece.  The prompt will go live just after midnight Eastern time.

The prompt might be a picture, or it might be a list of things to include in a story, or maybe a phrase or a question or something from a “news of the weird” type thing, or a… who knows?

After that, it’s up to you.  But if you do use the prompt to write a bit of flash fiction (say, 500 words or so) I’d love to see what you came up with, so comment below with a link to where it is on your blog (or on WattPad or wherever).

(And a pingback to the post here where you found the prompt would be appreciated but isn’t necessary.)

Oh, and this isn’t a contest or anything.  It’s just a (hopefully) fun thing for all concerned.

And, hey, if it inspires more than 500 or so words, run with it!

This week’s prompt:

an apple core
a barking dog
new curtains

And, as always, I’d love to see what you come up with!

 

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Sunday Snippet, March 17, 2019

More from Hedge House, a paranormal/urban fantasy that I hope to have out later this year.

Cara has just finished a meeting with Harry Rupert, the attorney handling her grandmother’s estate. This follows directly from last week’s snippet.

 

“Jacob, do you know what happened to my grandmother’s attorney? The one who drew up the papers?”

Jacob nodded as he put the truck in gear and pulled out onto the main street. “She’s in a coma. Freak accident – ran over a nest of yellow jackets while mowing and got stung multiple times and had an allergic reaction. She almost died and is still in ICU.”

Something in his voice made Cara doubt the truth of the story. Not of his words, but of the story he was relating, and she raised an eyebrow.

Jacob shrugged. 

“When did it happen?”

“The day after your letter came.”

 

 

Tentative Blurb:

When Cara Hawthorne returns to the childhood home she had been torn away from twenty years earlier, she thinks it will be to do nothing more than settle her grandmother’s estate and return to her job as a junior lawyer at a prestigious law firm in Tulsa.

But every nook and cranny of the house and gardens unearths long-buried memories, and when the town’s mayor sets his sights on her and the property she finds herself caught up in a centuries old battle with powers she has only barely begun to understand

 

Find more great reading
at the Sunday Snippet group.

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Rainbow Snippet for 3-16-2019

rainbow logo 1

Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, bloggers, and readers to gather once a week and share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).   Check out all the other awesome snippets by clicking on the picture above.

Picking up from last week’s snippet from a neglected WiP. The boys have been stranded on a deserted street in a winter storm, turned away by a church shelter because they’re gay.  This is unedited, so in the words of our fearless leader, “Squint.”

 

“Over here, boys.”

It was a woman’s voice, nearly inaudible against the howl of the wind.

Alex looked toward the sound. A rectangle of light spilled from an open doorway silhouetting a figure standing there, motioning for them to come.

“Tommy?”

He shrugged. “We don’t have much choice.”

The woman ushered them through the door, closing it behind them and they breathed a sigh of relief at being out of the wind. 

“My name is Kamrin, but you can call me Kam,” she said, helping them out of their jackets – their fingers were too numb to work the zippers. She hung the jackets on hooks next to the door and they got their first good look at her. Long dark auburn hair flowed down to the small of her back, more or less restrained by a headband set with a clear green stone that matched her eyes. She was maybe five feet tall, soft-bodied, but not fat, and there was an air of confidence and competency about her that was somehow reassuring and unnerving at the same time. 

 

 

 

 

 

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Wednesday Words #220 (3/13/2019)

Welcome to Wednesday Words!  Every Wednesday I will post some sort of prompt for a flash fiction piece.  The prompt will go live just after midnight Eastern time.

The prompt might be a picture, or it might be a list of things to include in a story, or maybe a phrase or a question or something from a “news of the weird” type thing, or a… who knows?

After that, it’s up to you.  But if you do use the prompt to write a bit of flash fiction (say, 500 words or so) I’d love to see what you came up with, so comment below with a link to where it is on your blog (or on WattPad or wherever).

(And a pingback to the post here where you found the prompt would be appreciated but isn’t necessary.)

Oh, and this isn’t a contest or anything.  It’s just a (hopefully) fun thing for all concerned.

And, hey, if it inspires more than 500 or so words, run with it!

This week’s prompt:

a four leafed clover
a betrayal
a portrait

And, as always, I’d love to see what you come up with!

 

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Sunday Snippet, March 10, 2019

More from Hedge House, a paranormal/urban fantasy that I hope to have out later this year.

Cara is in Harry Rupert’s office – he’s the attorney handling her grandmother’s estate. He has just finished going over the will with her. This follows directly from last week’s snippet.

 

“I don’t sign anything unless I’ve read it and know what I’m signing.” She smiled. “I’m sure you advise your clients to read before signing as well?”

“Well, yes, but that’s if they’re signing something from someone they don’t know. I’m a lawyer –”

“As am I.” Cara rose and held his gaze. “And I am not going to sign anything unless I have read it and compared it to the original document.” She paused. “I know you are a lawyer, Mr. Rupert. I also know that you are not the lawyer that originally drew up my grandmother’s will. That, I believe, was Kim Jamison, who is no longer with your firm?”

The man stared at her, his mouth open. 

Cara’s smile was cold. “Should I find any discrepancies between these papers and the originals in my grandmother’s safe, I will contact the Bar and they will be in contact with you. Good day, Mr. Rupert.”

 

Cara climbed into the truck and slammed the door. Jacob gave her a questioning look as he started the engine.

“I don’t trust him,” she said. “I’m bringing the papers home to read over.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Jacob, do you know what happened to my grandmother’s attorney? The one who drew up the papers?”

 

 

Tentative Blurb:

When Cara Hawthorne returns to the childhood home she had been torn away from twenty years earlier, she thinks it will be to do nothing more than settle her grandmother’s estate and return to her job as a junior lawyer at a prestigious law firm in Tulsa.

But every nook and cranny of the house and gardens unearths long-buried memories, and when the town’s mayor sets his sights on her and the property she finds herself caught up in a centuries old battle with powers she has only barely begun to understand

 

Find more great reading
at the Sunday Snippet group.

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Rainbow Snippet for 3-9-2019

rainbow logo 1

Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, bloggers, and readers to gather once a week and share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).   Check out all the other awesome snippets by clicking on the picture above.

Picking up from last week’s snippet from a neglected WiP.  It’s unedited, so in the words of our fearless leader, “Squint.”

 

“Faggots.” 

The door slammed shut only to open again.

“Clear out. If you’re still on the property in thirty seconds I’m calling the cops.”

So much for huddling in the shelter of the doorway, such as it was.

The door slammed again and Alex turned guiding Tommy away from the church. 

“I’m sorry, Tommy. I should have listened to you.”

Tommy shook his head. “No time for that,” he said, his voice raspy as he tried not to cough. Coughing made Alex worry and feel guilty. “What do we do now?”

Alex shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t even know where we are.”

 

 

 

 

 

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Wednesday Words #219 (3/6/2019)

Welcome to Wednesday Words!  Every Wednesday I will post some sort of prompt for a flash fiction piece.  The prompt will go live just after midnight Eastern time.

The prompt might be a picture, or it might be a list of things to include in a story, or maybe a phrase or a question or something from a “news of the weird” type thing, or a… who knows?

After that, it’s up to you.  But if you do use the prompt to write a bit of flash fiction (say, 500 words or so) I’d love to see what you came up with, so comment below with a link to where it is on your blog (or on WattPad or wherever).

(And a pingback to the post here where you found the prompt would be appreciated but isn’t necessary.)

Oh, and this isn’t a contest or anything.  It’s just a (hopefully) fun thing for all concerned.

And, hey, if it inspires more than 500 or so words, run with it!

This week’s prompt:

a drunken goose
a streetcar
a little rowboat
applause

(A bit of explanation about this week’s prompt. I noticed the date was 3-6-9 (well, 19, but still…)
So…
Three six nine
The goose drank wine,
The monkey chewed tobacco on the street car line.
The line broke.
The monkey choked.
And they all went to heaven in a little rowboat.*
Clap clap.

(*alternative line is “They all went to heaven on a billy goat” but I learned it as rowboat as a child.)

And, as always, I’d love to see what you come up with!

 

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Sunday Snippet, March 3, 2019

More from Hedge House, a paranormal/urban fantasy that I hope to have out later this year.

Picking up a few lines from last week. Cara is in Harry Rupert’s office – he’s the attorney handling her grandmother’s estate. He has just finished going over the will with her.

 

At last he finished explaining everything and handed Cara a stack of papers. Sticky tabs flagged most of the pages, sometimes two or three on a page.

“I’ll need you to sign, date, and initial where indicated,” he told her. He handed her a pen and waited expectantly.

Cara flipped through the pages before placing the stack on his desk and neatly aligning the edges before picking up her briefcase and placing it next to them.

“What are you doing?” he asked as she opened it.

“I’m taking these home to read over,” she replied calmly as she placed the documents inside, “and to compare them to the papers that my grandmother kept a copy of. I’ll bring them back tomorrow when I come for the viewing.”

“Really, Miss Hawthorn, there’s no need. I assure you that the papers are all in order. I’ve gone over them up myself.” 

“Be that as it may,” Cara snapped the case shut, “I don’t sign anything unless I’ve read it and know what I’m signing.” She smiled. “I’m sure you advise your clients to read before signing as well?”

“Well, yes, but that’s if they’re signing something from someone they don’t know. I’m a lawyer –”

 

 

Tentative Blurb:

When Cara Hawthorne returns to the childhood home she had been torn away from twenty years earlier, she thinks it will be to do nothing more than settle her grandmother’s estate and return to her job as a junior lawyer at a prestigious law firm in Tulsa.

But every nook and cranny of the house and gardens unearths long-buried memories, and when the town’s mayor sets his sights on her and the property she finds herself caught up in a centuries old battle with powers she has only barely begun to understand

 

Find more great reading
at the Sunday Snippet group.

3 Comments

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Rainbow Snippet for 3-2-2019

rainbow logo 1

Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, bloggers, and readers to gather once a week and share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).   Check out all the other awesome snippets by clicking on the picture above.

Picking up from last week’s snippet from a neglected WiP.  It’s unedited, so in the words of our fearless leader, “Squint.”

 

“Your kind isn’t welcome here.”

“Our kind?” Even as he spoke his stomach clenched. Tommy hadn’t trusted the bouncer, hadn’t wanted to let him send them out here. Looking back there had been something in his manner that should have alerted him, but they were being thrown out of the bar for being underage and they hadn’t had much choice: let him put them in a cab or spend the night on the street, wet and cold with wind chills in the minus thirties.  

“Faggots.” 

 

 

 

 

 

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