DEFENDING THE PEN
It’s all about murder . . . romance – writing it!
I post flash fiction, book announcements, interviews, and the things I love.
Careful . . . you may end up the victim . . .
of fun!
It's Monday and time for a little fun. Thanks to Barbara W. Beacham and her weekly flash fiction challenge. Just 100 - 150 words, the photograph and the first sentence as your inspiration.
"The cemetery spread along the area known as Devils Abode."
“The cemetery spread along the area known as Devils Abode.”
Under a full moon on All Hallows Eve in the Devil's Abode, we vowed our eternal love.
His body strong, athletic, and golden brown like the sand at midday when the sun paints the earth with its most potent rays.
His voice was deep and reassuring, his kisses soft and alluring, so warm and electrifying, deep and demanding. Conquered by desire, I surrendered all to the man I loved.
How was I to know that Jimmy was the devil in disguise? Or that losing my virginity that night would raise the demons of hell?
For God's sake, stop blaming me for the world's ills! I was only sixteen!
I danced through the snowflakes like the ballerina from my favorite ballet, Swan Lake. I've always loved winter especially how it tasted on my tongue, frosty, light, and clean. I looked around. Snow, brilliant white, and fresh surrounded me. The trees sparkled as though doused in diamond glitter. The lake while almost frozen solid showed bits of blue swirl as though just created with a painter's brush.
I couldn't remember where I was, how I'd gotten here, and then a voice pierced the atmosphere.
"Your daughter and all our cryogenic residents are safely tucked away until science catches up."
A unique flash fiction challenge hosted by Barbara W Beacham where she provides a new photo each week, and the first sentence of a story. Your challenge is to finish the story using 100-150 words, not including the sentence provided. Don’t forget to use the opening sentence… This challenge runs from Monday to Sunday! Get creative and have fun finishing the story!
Please include the photo with your bit of flash and a link back to this post. Do not forget to click on the blue frog that's where you can read the other participants stories and add your link so that others can enjoy your story too! Now let’s have some fun!
Finish the story begins with: “The family had no idea that little Luigi would grow up to be…”
Lu stared at the photograph but vaguely recalled the fair and the day his family donned the clothes that would take them back into the past. The picture was a prized memento from his mother. She loved history and marveled the way her ancestors thrived before the technological revolution.
On her deathbed, she'd given him the picture and told him, "Ignorance and greed are killing the earth. Save your children, you have the knowledge."
"But the others?"
"They won't listen; act before it's too late."
She'd been right. While the population had their noses in a virtual world, the earth began to die. Ignorance and apathy led to an apocalypse that killed 90% of the population.
Lu stared out the porthole as the universe opened before him. He smiled. Thefamily had no idea that little Luigi would grow up to be the captain of the only spacecraft to leave Earth before the planet imploded, but he believed his mother always knew.
Sterling Towne decided to take a last minute vacation to a sunny paradise to cheer herself up after a divorce. When the airline misplaces her luggage, she thinks it's just a typical airline snafu until she gets her luggage back only to find out it’s not hers. Rather the suitcase belongs to someone who thought it a good idea to transport a gold Buddha statue via commercial airlines.
Sterling turns the statue into hotel security for safe keeping but then her room is ransacked, and she’s sure there was someone following her in town. Does the owner of the statue think she still has it? But if so, why not just ask? She’s getting nervous, and even her new friend Steve thinks she might be in danger.
Is she? Or is her imagination just working over time?
Giveaway
Meet Laina Turner
As a child Laina thought she would either be a truck driver (thanks to Jerry Reed in Smokey and the Bandit) or work at Taco Bell (her favorite restaurant as a child). As she grew older she realized her talents lay in academics and business and for the last several years has been a business consultant and college professor where she uses the analytical side of her brain and not the side that makes up stories.
Through all her career choices she has continued to have a passion for writing. This stemmed from childhood whereas an only child she developed a vivid imagination spending most of her time making things up and thinking the Incredible Hulk lived in her closet.
Proud of her vast experiences in life from barrel racing to being on the dance team for a semi pro basketball team to being a mom of 2 amazing kids, she tells her family and friends that no one is safe from their escapades slipping in to her books.
Taking the plunge to write books that she actually lets people read in 2010, she has worked her way up to having 5 fans (maybe 6 now). Her blog, The Art Of Living Fabulously, was launched to share the daily fun in the life of a Real Housewife of the Midwest along with the musing of other fabulous ladies.
To find our more information about Laina and her books, check out her Website or find her on Facebook
Congratulations Laina all the best with your new book - That's Not My Suitcase.
Have you ever lost your luggage? Was it returned with gold in it? What would you do?
Horror author Alistair Cross has a new book,The Crimson
Corset, just released. He's agreed to take a break from his many book signings to answer a few questions for us.
1.How did you start your writing career?
Describe your very first creation.
Though I've written my
entire life, it wasn't until about ten years ago that I began to consider it as
a career. I didn't know where to start, and had no knowledge of what it took to
write a novel. So I began reading about writing. I read everything I could get
my hands on that might educate me about the craft. I began my first novel in
2007. That original creation had quite a lot of problems and it wasn't until
2012 that I published a different novel. The road to publication can be a long
discouraging one, but I believe that if you keep at it, commit yourself to
honing your craft, have the talent, and make writing a priority, the right
doors will open and you will get to where you want to be.
2.Sounds like you've prepared well for the task, and it's paid off. Tell us about a favorite character from a
book.
Madame Defarge in
Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities is one of my all-time favorite
fictional characters. Though she seems to be nothing but an innocuous and
well-behaved wife, Madame Defarge is one deadly dame. As she sat knitting,
seemingly unaware of the wine shop customers, I was first struck by the way she
communicated her thoughts to her husband - with a quick flick of eyebrow and a
barely perceptible nod of the head. This let me know there was more to her than
met the eye … but it wasn't until later in the book that we learn more about
her backstory, and how utterly consumed by revenge she is. Madame Defarge’s
knitting is more than a way to pass the time. It’s a woolen hit-list in which
she uses her needles to encode the names and crimes of the people that should
eventually be beheaded. I was young enough when I read this that it left a
permanent impression on me and when I'm writing villains, I often think of her.
3.An unexpected evil does impress. Tell us about your current release.
It’s called The Crimson Corset, the first in a series titled The Vampires of Crimson Cove. The
Crimson Corset is about a seemingly ordinary young man named Cade Colter who
moves to the tourist-centric little village of Crimson Cove where he discovers
he’s not so ordinary after all. Unbeknownst to him, Cade has a genetic rarity
that makes him very extraordinary … and very valuable, particularly to Gretchen
VanTreese, the undead proprietor of the Crimson Corset - a nightclub of
ill-repute that looms at the edge of town.
As Cade becomes the
object of Gretchen’s obsession, the peaceful vampires on the other side of
Crimson Cove must call off the ancient and uneasy truce between their Loyals
and Gretchen’s in order to protect Cade Colter. But Gretchen has already begun
laying an elaborate trap that will put Cade, and everyone around him, in mortal
danger.
The Crimson Corsetis
a tale of terror and seduction, good and evil; it’s a demonstration of the
corruption of power, and the strength of the human spirit in the face of
extreme adversity.
4.That's a truly awesome tribute by Jay Bonansinga for your writing, congratulations. Tell us about your next release.
My collaborator,
Tamara Thorne, and I are working on releasing The Ghosts of Ravencrest as a full-length novel. It’s a serialization
and with the completion of this particular story arc, we are compiling it into
the first book of The Ravencrest Saga.
The Ghosts of
Ravencrest is a balls-to-the-wall full-force Gothic that is born of our mutual
love for the genre. In the vein of Dark Shadows and Turn of the Screw, The
Ghosts of Ravencrest is a rollicking good time with lots of chills, plenty of
sex appeal, and more ghosts than you can shake a flask of holy water at.
New governess Belinda
Moorland is learning that beneath Ravencrest’s stately exterior, there lurks
darkness and danger, murder, mystery, and mayhem. The inhabitants of the manor
- both the living and the dead - have taken special interest in her, and as she
tries to uncover the mysteries of the mansion, her employer, the handsome
millionaire Eric Manning, is proving to be a great distraction … of the sexiest
kind.
Ravencrest is a
serialization, with new installments coming out about every six weeks. It’s
ongoing, like a soap opera, and we intend to keep at it until we’ve exposed
every secret and unearthed every mystery of Ravencrest Manor. And that’s a
lot of secrets and mysteries.
5.Serializations are very popular, but that sounds like a huge job. I have no doubts though, if anyone can pull it off it's you. When in the day/night do you write? How long
per day?
I write 8 - 10 hours
per day, six days a week, and take Sundays off to do whatever sounds like fun -
which means I usually don’t do a damn thing. Except maybe read or have a
Supernatural marathon.
6.That kind of writing schedule is envious, wow, congratulations. You are a full time writer. What was one of the most surprising things you
learned while writing your books?
That writer’s block
doesn’t exist. For years, I’ve expected it to show up, and it never has. I’ve
hit speed bumps, and even crashed into a few brick walls … but you just write
it off, like you walk off a Charley horse. You work through it. You do this by
reading something, watching something, or - most effectively - writing
something. If there is a more severe form of writer’s block, I haven’t
experienced it.
7.I totally agree, it really doesn't exist. I think most people use it as an excuse or simply the reason for not putting their ass in that chair. Tell me, as I'm a curious person, what would we find under your bed?
Panties. Not mine.
Ouzo and absinthe bottles. All mine. Maybe some cat toys. And quite possibly,
the cat.
8.Sounds quite sexy, and . . . . Okay, back to the interview, what book are you reading now? What genre is a guilty pleasure?
Midnight Voices by
John Saul. And I have a lot of guilty pleasures when it comes to reading. I
have read - and loved - everything from romance to children’s books.
9.That isn't a surprise, the best writers have an eclectic taste, so do I, I mean, just say'n. Next question, how do you react to a bad review of your book?
I don’t react because
I don’t read them. By the time my novel goes through my first readers, the
publisher, and a series of editors, I’m all critiqued out and am more
interested in starting the next book. You can’t please everyone - you have to
write for yourself. To read bad reviews, get mad, and argue in front of God and
everyone else online about the right way to write a book is about the most
juvenile thing a professional writer can do. Write your stories to your own
satisfaction and make no apologies.
10.Love that answer, so true! What is something people would be surprised to
know about you?
My favorite color is
pink. I like to knit sweaters and often encrypt the names of my enemies into
the sleeves. Then I give them out for Christmas. Oh, and I have absolutely no
tattoos and unless forcibly given one by a madman wielding an inked-up needle,
I never will. And I don’t wear underwear. Ever. It’s part of my creative
process. Swing free to think free and all that.
Really, hot pink, that is a surprise. Thanks, Alistair, for submitting to my questioning. It was fun and I'm sure all your fans have learned something new. Good luck with The Crimson Corset!
Book
Description:
Presented
in the form of contemporary vampire literature,The Crimson Corsetis a representation of human descent,
the power of influence, the corruption of greed, and the lust for domination.
It is an illustration of the human will and a testament to the strength of
family ties.
Welcome to Crimson Cove
Sheltered
by ancient redwoods, overlooking the California coast, the cozy village of
Crimson Cove has it all: sophisticated retreats, fine dining, and a notorious
nightclub, The Crimson Corset. It seems like a perfect place to relax and get
close to nature. But not everything in Crimson Cove is natural.
When
Cade Colter moves to town, he expects it to be peaceful to the point of
boredom. But he quickly learns that after the sun sets and the fog rolls in,
the little tourist town takes on a whole new kind of life – and death.
Darkness at the Edge of Town
Renowned
for its wild parties and history of debauchery, The Crimson Corset looms on the
edge of town, inviting patrons to sate their most depraved desires and slake
their darkest thirsts. Proprietor Gretchen VanTreese has waited centuries to
annihilate the Old World vampires on the other side of town and create a new
race – a race that she alone will rule. When she realizes Cade Colter has the
key that will unlock her plan, she begins laying an elaborate trap that will
put everyone around him in mortal danger.
Blood Wars
The
streets are running red with blood, and as violence and murder ravage the
night, Cade must face the darkest forces inside himself, perhaps even abandon
his own humanity, in order to protect what he loves.
In a hundred words or less, what story does it tell?
CALL OF THE ORCA
Deidre floated among the white swells, her
body undulating with the musical rhythm of the Orca's call.
The whales drew closer. She felt acceptance, understood
their invitation to travel north. With a deftness she failed to question, she
took her place in the pod. Only once did she look back.
*****
"Well?" Detective Reynolds said to
the coroner.
"She died less than an hour ago. Our
victim is Deidre Collins, she fought, but with those wounds death called her
name."
Reynolds looked at the mural, and a city in
the depths of decay. "Another victim of Yolanda Renée's pen."
For the first half of the challenge I've chosen a passage from my favorite novel.
Gone With The Wind by Margaret Mitchell.
Itwas a savagely red land, blood-colored after rains, brick dust in droughts, the best cotton land in the world. It was a pleasant land of white houses, peaceful plowed fields and sluggish yellow rivers, but a land of contrasts, of brightest sun glare and densest shade. The plantation clearings and miles of cotton fields smiled up to a warm sun, placid, complacent. At their edges rose the virgin forests, dark and cool even in the hottest noons, mysterious, a little sinister, the soughing pines seeming to wait with an age-old patience, to threaten with soft sighs: "Be careful! Be careful! We had you once. We can take you back again."
For the second half of the challenge, I drew from my first impressions of Alaska, and a picture taken in the Brooks Range as my inspiration.
I fell in love looking out over an expansive horizon filled with evergreens and white birch. The view stretched for miles across a valley that flowed in gentle waves of brown and gray to the foothills of the Alaskan mountains, where Mount Denali sat resplendent with a crown of cottony clouds. I'd never seen anything so beautiful or color this bright. I knew then that my decision to take the engineering job with the oil company in Alaska was the right one.
The chill of winter was gone, and during nightly walks through the forests of the Brooks Range, the quiet sang to me. The rejuvenating breeze of spring became my companion, and the views around the next bend my rationale for going deeper into the wilderness. I was an explorer in search of my destiny and with every step, my confidence grew.
The job gave me an excuse to end a long cold relationship. He'd found someone new months earlier, but our shared condominium was in too prime a Chicago location for him to just walk away, so I did.
My arrival at the almost all-male line camp called Dietrich was like stepping into the dark ages. Naked photos of women filled the bus that shuttled us from the airport to check in. Knowing looks and snide remarks should have had me turning back, but I'd resolved to persevere. A woman in a man's world, no one ever said it'd be a cakewalk.
After weeks of trying to find my place in this new world, the wilderness and my evening hikes became a sanctuary.
I was stealthy like a grizzly on a hunt, surefooted like a Dahl sheep, and quick as a fox. But in camp, I was as skittish as the ptarmigan. Constant catcalls, rude comments, and downright crude proposals followed me everywhere. When I refused to react, the men became angry. Slut, whore, and ugly bitch hit me in the back like rocks. These weren't men. Instead, they took the definition of a creep to an all-time low. How would they feel if their mother, daughter, wife or sister were in my shoes?
The fresh air and the mystery of the woods wiped away the ugliness. I was content. The workday became brighter after each hike; rudeness no longer drained my energy. I'd found peace.
I discovered bear tracks in the mud. They frightened and amazed me. The bear that created them was huge. I looked around to see if the beast was still present, then foolishly followed them for a mile before realizing the danger of my quest. I couldn't out run this animal, and I was sure that whatever tree I chose to climb, this brute could uproot. His claws were at least five inches long, but I felt no fear—only curiosity.
During work, I heard talk of bear sightings. Hungry bears looking for a first meal after hibernation had been spotted in camp. We were forbidden to leave the area. My boss made sure I received the memo. I promised to cooperate. Co-workers knew I wouldn't stop and warned me to be extra careful. I assured them I would.
The truth, I was determined to find you. During each hike, I'd discover fresh tracks. I continued my search despite the twinge of fear that circled my spine. Confident I'd outwit my prey, see the bear first, and then return to camp satisfied that I'd tracked the fiercest beast in the wilderness. You became my fate, a goal I needed to pursue, even though I didn't know why.
Six weeks after arrival I'd finally hit my stride. The day felt magical. Details for a project went smoothly. The men were less harassing. My expectations ran high. I skipped dinner and left work early. I was sure the evening would bring me to you.
The sun, higher in the sky filtered through the new growth, kissing my skin with the promise of summer's warmth. I'd gone miles further and discovered a new river higher in the mountains. The water moved swiftly, looked inviting, but I knew it was ice cold. Near the edge, I spotted your perfect paw prints, so fresh the wet soil glistened. Had you just been here? My heart jumped. Was it fear, excitement, or joy?
I froze at the sound of a breaking branch, contemplated running into the water. I hesitated, wanted to turn around, but I knew I'd been caught. You'd won.
The voice was resonate, imposing. "That's a hell of a print. Shouldn't you be running in the opposite direction?"
I inhaled. Conscious my mouth was open, waiting for the scream that never materialized. My hand hid the evidence of apprehension while I giggled at my foolishness. I hadn't laughed in months. It felt wonderful. "Probably, but I'm more curious than frightened," I said as I turned.
The man was exquisite.
"You do know the end when curiosity is the defense?" His smile matched mine. His dark brown eyes danced with mischief. He moved closer. Muscles rippled as he threw the ax he carried over his shoulder and extended his hand. "I'm Kuruk, and you are?"
"Lila." My hand disappeared in his. His shake was firm. He pressed our hands to his heart, rested the ax against his leg, and caressed my face. His touch ignited buried desires. I blushed.
"My beautiful, Lila."
His words were a caress. I trembled in response.
"You've been searching for me."
I nodded and bowed my head.
He lifted my chin. "Sweet Lila, you found me or did I find you?"
I surrendered to the warmth of his kiss. Fate had brought us together. I recognized my future.
Nature's song was symphonic. The world and its ugliness disappeared.
*****
"It's been a week, have they found her yet?
"No. Just the tracks of a massive grizzly they call Kuruk the Monster. They're going to try again tomorrow. Looks like he'd been on her trail for some time."
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Word Count 998/ FCA
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