WEP - In Too Deep

THREATS & PROMISES

It was a calm spring morning when my world came to an end. An early morning rain made the marigolds brighter, the forget-me-nots bluer, and the multicolored pansies gave the garden a rainbow of color. I was sitting in the sunroom enjoying a cup of coffee when the sound of sirens destroyed the serenity and announced a day of reckoning.

~~*****~~

"Please, Mrs. Strong," the strain and impatience graveled FBI Agent Ronald Gray’s voice. "Just tell me about your husband," he pleaded. His tone was much less threatening than when we’d first been introduced. After being escorted to the Boulder police department by two surly police officers who refused to answer my questions, I was unceremoniously shoved into an interview room with the brusque Agent. His scrutiny made me feel as inadequate as a rat in a line-up of cats. A surlier man, I’d never met. He refused to answer my questions but kept demanding that I answer his.

"I don’t understand what you want from me. I haven’t seen John in two years. What can I possibly tell you?"

"Why. The world wants to know why Mrs. Strong. Why does a man kill innocent people? We deserve to know, why!"He slammed his fist on the table, and I felt the blow in my heart.

"John left this for you." The Agent slammed a letter down on the table. I read it, and that was the moment. There would be no more false bravado.

Deidre,

     You’ve always admired my penmanship. How do you like my blood red ink? Actually, my blood and written with a quill, can you believe it? Nothing but the best for you, my dear sweet wife.

     Well, you did it. You got away. Left the kids and me to follow your lustful heart. I hope he was worth it! No, that’s not true, I hope he beats you daily! Maybe took all your hard earned and hoarded money and left you high and dry. God, knows that’s a fantasy, a dream I have regularly. That and finding you.

     The finding you fantasy would’ve taken a book, but I’m sure you can imagine!

     But who knows? Maybe I’d have forgiven you. Now we’ll never know.

Enjoy the notoriety.

You’ve earned it sweetheart!

Always yours,

John

"Because of me?" I whispered. Tears streamed down my cheeks. "He did it because of me." I bowed my head over my arms and cried like a woman condemned. Hell would bring no more agonizing a punishment than the guilt that consumed me. The world went black.

At the hospital, I was all but catatonic. The doctors and my attorney refused to let the agent question me again. I slowly gathered my strength and agreed to talk to Agent Gray, but only on my terms. I wanted to go home, but no longer had one. Once the press learned of my location, no place was safe. I insisted on protection, and a new identity. The FBI saw to the changes, and I agreed to talk.

"You were married for over twenty years. What happened? What drove John to do this?"

"I can’t answer that question. I lived with the man for twenty years, and I can’t tell you who he was. I just know I could no longer live in the comfortable prison I'd allowed him to create for me. The children were adults. It was time. I found the courage."

"But why did you leave, why did it take you so long? We checked, there was no abuse. We talked to family and friends, they said you two were the couple everyone envied."

"We were, in public. For years I carried off the biggest fake out in history. I played the game. It made John happy, and when he was happy, I thought less and less of ending my life. It’s called survival."

"From what?" the agent asked in desperation.

"A man obsessed, controlling, angry. I’d left him before. But he always found me. We had children, they loved their father, even as they feared him. It was clear I’d never escape. If I did, it meant giving up my children too. Once they were adults, I could let go. I disappeared, changed my name, and prayed he’d never find me."

Agent Gray shook his head. "John left us a message too. He wrote, 'Ask Deidre. She knows the answers you seek. This is all on her.'" The Agent sighed deeply and asked the one question he’d been dying to ask for days. “Did you know?"

"Did I know?" I thought about his question. I stood, walked to the window and stared at the sky. "I knew it was a possibility. Ten years ago, John hears on the news that a gunman has killed twenty-five people from an elevated position and says, ‘I could see myself doing that, especially if you ever left me. I’d have nothing to live for.’ It was a threat, but one I knew in my soul he could accomplish.” I shivered. I couldn’t look at Agent Gray.

"I remember his grin. His self-satisfied nod, and his declaration, 'I could do it, and I would just to show you, you’ll never escape, and if you do. You’ll regret it until your dying day.'"

I wiped at the tears that seemed never-ending and caught the Agents eyes. "You tell me, did I know? Could I have stopped what happened based on that conversation ten years ago?"

Gray bowed his head. He couldn’t or wouldn’t look at me.

"If I’d reported him? Would you have listened?"

930 words / FCA

Yolanda Renée © 2018

~~*****~~

I wrote this a few months ago. I hate that it's a reality.
Please, Lord, Bless the children . . .

The Relationship Between Domestic Violence & Mass Shootings

When Domestic Violence Becomes a Mass Shooting

Many mass shooters have a history of domestic violence. It's time to pay attention.

Read More Stories

In Too Deep

Just follow the links:

WEP - A LIfe Stolen

A Life Stolen

I shared myself

You wanted more

I shared my hopes

You crushed them

I shared my dreams

You despised them

I shared my joy

You took it

I shared my love

You destroyed it

I shared my life

You stole it.

                  
                                                                                 Yolanda Renée © 2017
*****

Read all the entries here!

The above 'Stolen Life' is in honor

of Stowy Jenkins!

I'm thrilled to announce the release

of my latest!

The Snowman

N O W  A V A I L A B L E!

AMAZON KINDLE!

&

PAPERBACK TOO!

Meet Stowy Jenkins!

The Snowman

   Yolanda Renée

IWSG - Marketing with the A to Z

THE INSECURE WRITER’S SUPPORT GROUP

ALEX J. CAVANAUGH

It's that time again, a day to express insecurities, and boy do I have a few. Just last week I asked my publisher for the rights to my trilogy. Now, I'm dealing with cover designs, but thanks to a picture taken just last month in the snow, I had my start. I then sent that on to Michael Di Gesu, and he worked his magic. You can see the results in the sidebar -->

Murder, Madness & Love is now up as a Kindle, and I'm going to use Amazon to publish in paperback too.

Memories of Murder should be up as a Kindle in a few days. Murder & Obsession will come next. All while I’m working to get the Prequel to the Series online too!

Amazing but that when it rains, it pours! Up to my elbows in edits, and designs, and more edits, plus getting ready for the book tour for the Snowman, and this month, all month the A to Z!

That’s only the half of it, but, well, no more crying over spilled milk. Pulling up my big girl pants and getting to work! Wish me luck, because I’m damn sure as Hell going to need it!

The tour for the Snowman begins in May, there are still a few spots open, please consider hosting me that day for a review, guest post, or interview! Thank you! Just click HERE!

Happy April, everyone!

Question:

Have you taken advantage of the annual A to Z Challenge in terms of marketing, networking, publicity for your book? What were the results?

Yes, as a matter of fact last year after the release of Murder & Obsession I used the A to Z to introduce the story and discuss Alaska. I sold 40 books that month. Not a bad start. And for this A to Z I'm going something similar for the Snowman!

Thank you, everyone, who stayed with the posts and bought the book! I enjoyed that A to Z almost as much as the one I did on Margaret Mitchell.

Be sure to say hello to the awesome co-hosts:

 Christopher D. Votey, Madeline Mora-Summonte, Fundy Blue, and Chrys Fey!

**

Be sure to check out the WEP Challenge for April

The post happens on the day for the letter 'P'

Sign up today!

WEP - SEA MONSTERS

WEP - OCTOBER CHALLENGE

SEA MONSTERS

A dream. That's all, just a dream. I crawled under the blankets and fell into a deep sleep despite the last vision in my head. Sea monsters don't exist. I know that, and yet, I'd swear that I just saw two, except I'm sick, and it's the middle of the night. Nightmare, that's all I saw, a waking dream. The medication that allowed me to sleep had created one doozy of a hallucination.

Green slimy monsters had come up out of the waves and carried off several tourists. They walked right past my patio as I sipped a cup of tea in the dark. Different shades of green on a human-like body with scales and fins, horns, and gills. Large eyes that glowed yellow. I could hear voices, or maybe it was thoughts. I never saw their mouth move except in that kissing fish kind of pout, in and out, in and out. Creepy and fascinating at the same time.

As the sea creatures carried their victims into the ocean, I heard their conversation in my head. Maybe I gave them voices. Isn't that what you do in dreams? The smaller one complained about the weight of his victim, the hours they labored, and the wages they made. Typical drudge worker complaints. I thought it was funny. I'd had some of the same complaints before I made my recent move to the beach. A move I'd worked years for and now that I'd achieved my goal, I was too sick to enjoy it. So goes life; two-steps forward, one-step back.

When I awoke, the sun was high in the sky. Warming rays filled the room. I stretched, threw off the blankets, and stumbled to the patio. Vacationers were soaking up the sunshine, playing water sports, and flying kites. The world looked normal, and I felt almost human. I plodded to the refrigerator for a Diet Coke and drank half the bottle in the first swig. Thirsty, I guess because my fever had finally broken.

I'd moved into my condo three days before and promptly came down with the flu. I hadn't even dipped my toes in the water. But I would remedy that today. Flu or not, I had to at least get some sand between my toes, so shorts and a crop top were put on. That new string bikini would have to wait. I still needed to lose twenty pounds I'd put on during the winter cold up north. I ran a brush through my tangled hair, finished my coke, and hurried outside. The sun on my skin felt healing, but the icy feel of the sand on my toes stopped me in my tracks.

To my shock, I was standing on strands of seaweed. A species that didn't exist anywhere but at the bottom of the sea. The same color green that I'd seen the night before. Only then, it had been hanging off the slimy creatures carrying off the tourists. I shivered and backed into my condominium. Quietly, I slid the patio door closed and double locked it. I closed the blackout curtains, then began moving furniture and unpacked boxes against the door and windows.

I worked up quite a sweat and felt silly. I knew I was overreacting. Monsters don't exist. Confused and exhausted, I fell back onto my unmade bed, curled up, and fell into another deep sleep. So much for sun and sand.

This time, when I awoke, night had fallen. Thirsty and hungry, I ate a candy bar and a bag of chips while I sucked down another Coke. Oh hell, there goes the diet. I didn't turn the lights on, but I did open the curtains and the patio door. Sitting in the dark, I watched the waves and admired the full moon and the dancing light that rolled across the waves. Convinced the flu had warped my mind, I finally relaxed and considered a midnight swim to prove that I wasn't afraid of sea monsters.

Then I heard their voices or was it their thoughts. I'm crazy pure and simple, but I had to listen.

"I can't believe they sent us back for the little girl's teddy bear. Ridiculous."

"They want her to grow up happy. Happy children make happy meals."

Laughter.

"That's so true. Plus when you fill them up with all that processed food, they make the seaweed rolls so much sweeter."

"Speaking of seaweed rolls. Last night, I spotted a cute chubby blonde in the lower unit. Maybe we should grab her, too. I'm hungry, and it is lunch time."

~~ Yolanda Renée © 2016 ~~

769 Words / FCA

I hope you found my story entertaining. I did move to the beach, and I was sick that first week, but I did not see any monsters. However, I was inspired by both the illness and the fact that it's Halloween.

Please read the other entries.

Just follow the link!

         

WEP - A STONE GARDEN

This is my entry for the WEP Gardens Flash Fiction Challenge. Please be warned the story took a dark turn. It wasn't meant to, but when I write I go where the prompt takes me. I've been working on my WIP The Snowman, and I'm afraid the antagonist took over this project. 
This picture was my inspiration, especially when I envisioned it in a winter setting. 

Gardens always mean something else, 

man absolutely uses one thing to say another.

~Robert Harbison, Eccentric Spaces, 1977

A STONE GARDEN

Janelle finally arrived home. The day had been exhausting, and the drive seemed to have taken hours, when in truth, it had barely been one. Fresh snow always slowed traffic to a crawl. She almost wished she'd rented a place in town, but when a childhood friend had offered his fabulous home at no cost, well, it was perfect. Too good to be true, but that was before the harassment started. Now she dreaded coming home.

John Hughes's elegant house was located on a ridge over Cheat Lake just minutes from the University of Morgantown. The police had suggested she update the security system, but she was house sitting and needed his permission first. John immediately agreed and gave her the number of a security firm. The police and the company she'd contracted had suggested cameras. Janelle vetoed the idea—at least inside the house. The last thing she wanted was to be a YouTube sensation.

Threats originally came in the form of letters addressed to the bitch in residence. At first, Janelle thought it was a joke. She was new in town, a professor at the university with John as the only other person she knew well. John suggested that maybe his former girlfriend was the target, but the letters became personal when they included pictures of her. Her stalker had taken them as she went about her day at the university and around town.

After contacting the police, Janelle learned that several women had received the same threatening letters. The police assured her the man was harmless. They suggested that he was just trying to create terror on a broad spectrum but would never follow through. She prayed they were right, but soon after her visit to police headquarters, the phone calls started. The messages were grotesque and sexual in nature, the voice mechanical.

Janelle almost packed her bags after Detective Malaren informed her she was the only one receiving the threatening calls. Fear gripped her fully, but she found her courage and made getting the security system updated, her principal goal. Detective Malaren also suggested a roommate or bodyguard. She agreed.

Tomorrow the installation would happen and tonight she would play host to her first personal bodyguard, all on her tab. Until this creep was behind bars, Janelle didn't want to be alone in a large home several miles from town. 
Before unlocking the door and switching on the lights, she checked the road leading to the house and wondered where the bodyguard was. The security firm assured her he'd meet her at the house, would probably be waiting when she arrived. He wasn't. Janelle blamed the snowstorm.

All she wanted was a soft chair and a glass of wine, but instead, started a pot of coffee, and searched the refrigerator for staples to begin dinner, wondering if she should make enough for two. She noticed that the house was unusually cold, verified via the thermostat. Worried that the furnace was on the blink, she went to the den to build a fire. The air was more frigid than usual. French doors leading out to the deck were standing open. Snow had drifted inside. Had she forgotten to latch them? The wind on that side of the house sometimes popped them open if left unlocked. She wondered if the new security installation would fix the problem.

Turning on the exterior lights, she stepped onto the deck. During the darkness of winter, the owner, John, wanted to see his beautifully landscaped yard. Spotlights highlighted the bridge across the small creek, and a new layer of snow covered evergreens, Japanese maples, and massive boulders. 

Statues of angels graced the area, each one featured in a heavenly glow. The recent snowfall made it a winter wonderland. Most mornings would find Janelle seemingly mesmerized by the beauty of the garden while she nursed a cup of coffee and contemplated life. The panorama brought her joy, and no matter the season, the changing beauty filled her with peace.

Tonight, at this moment, the cherished Vista froze her to the spot. The beautiful winter paradise was now her nightmare come tangible.

Someone had shattered the angels and splattered them with blood. Most of the spotlights now glowed red. On the frozen creek laid the torsos of three women. Their naked bodies staged grotesquely. Their heads hung from the ornate bridge, tied in place by their hair. A trail of blood flowed from each body. Beheaded on the icy creek and immediately strung up on the bridge. Their grisly end caught in deaths final scream.

Janelle recognized the other women tormented with the beast's haunting letters. The sight sent her reeling backward. The sound of her screams dragged her into a living nightmare where there was no escape.

Someone stood in her way. Janelle fainted. He caught her. Held her inert body and looked beyond her to the scene in the snow, a smile splayed across his face.
Written in blood above the bodies - a crude message -Welcome Home, Lover.

The police found Janelle's body on a pedestal in the garden. Sitting in the lotus position with an elaborate pair of feathered wings crudely sewn into her back and a pentagram cut into her chest. The only other wounds were the deep cuts on her wrists. She'd bled out in place. Paralyzed by drugs, Janelle had been unable to move while the horror played out. The other women had suffered the same fate. They'd been aware of the torture, the beheading, and their assailant.

The security firm insisted the owner, John Hughes, had canceled the bodyguard that Janelle had hired because he was on his way home. When they reached John, he was still in Europe and would be for the next six months.

***

Stone downloaded the pictures to his computer and masturbated as he relived each delicious moment of the night before. Several loud knocks on the ceiling startled him from his pleasuring.

"Stowie, breakfast!"

         "Coming, Mommy."

***

997 Words / FCA

Yolanda Renee © 2016

Enjoy more entries from the WEP Gardens Challenge from the list below!

A NEW CHALLENGE

It's time to sign up for the WEP - Write...Edit...Publish Gardens Flash Fiction Challenge for August 2016.

It's easy. It's simple and it's fun!

Prizes are awarded!

In the garden I tend to drop my thoughts here and there. To the flowers I whisper the secrets I keep and the hopes I breathe. I know they are there to eavesdrop for the angels. ~Dodinsky 

LOST & FOUND: BROKEN HEART

As Guilie Castrillo-Oriard tells us:

Love... Even the word sounds like a sigh. But is it a sigh of contentment—or of regret? If you've found it, the world shines in colors vivid. If you've lost it, life fades into grays and shadows. There's nothing quite as intense as falling in love. Or as the feeling of loss when it ends.

And today is the day to post your love story or a fictional flash in honor of Love – Lost or Found!

Your hosts are Guilie – Arlee – Alex – Denise – Elizabeth & Me!

Join us!

      BROKEN HEART

Beautiful painting. As always your work is meticulous. Your subject...the girl. Who is she?

Elizabeth Fisher.

Your girl?

No.

Can you introduce us?

Can't; she's dead.

When did she die?

Two days ago, the same day I finished the painting. Now her parents want it for her funeral.

So young, such a shame. What killed her?

A broken heart.

Don't be so melodramatic. Truly, what killed her?

I told you, she died of a broken heart.

How?

Years ago, her fiancé, Jake, went off to war. She waited, kept her eye on the horizon for his return, but instead, she received a telegram.

The message of death?

No, the telegram claimed - he was missing behind enemy lines, presumed dead.

And?

Lizzy was certain he was alive. . She knew he would come home. Never doubted. Even hired detectives to find him after the war ended.

But she was wrong?

No. She was right. He'd survived.

I don't understand. She must’ve been over the moon. Oh, I see. He came back injured – a different man?

No, he came back a healthy man. Well, mostly. He was concussed and suffered memory loss. A young woman and her family rescued him; they hid him and healed him. After the war ended, he had nowhere to return to so he stayed with them. He fell in love.

Cruel turn of events for Lizzy.

Even more so when he finally regained his memory and came home. He walked in the front door with his wife and two kids in tow.

What did he say to Lizzy?

He didn't recognize her. He remembered his family home, his mom and pop, but nothing about the war or his engagement to Lizzy. I was finishing this painting when he’d arrived. Lizzy ran to him. Her happiness brimming at his return. He looked at her with confusion. Asked if she was his sister.

What did she do?

She wilted, like a dying flower. But for Jake, she smiled – told him she was a friend of the family. Said, "Welcome home, Jake. Congratulations on your marriage and lovely family." Then she walked out the front door.

Where'd she go?

To her parents' home. She died in her sleep that night.

A broken heart.

376 Words

Yolanda Renee © 2016

Read more fascinating love stories here!

WEP - PURPLE GREEN & GOLD

Time for another WEP - Write...Edit...Publish Flash Fiction Challenge. For this challenge we asked folks to write a story about a Holiday Celebration that's out of this world.

1000 words or less with a science fiction theme.

With the dozens of celebrations that occur during this time of the year, picking one wasn't difficult, but adding an off planet mix, made it a bit more intriguing.

This is my contribution. Enjoy.

And please follow the links to read the others!

PURPLE GREEN & GOLD

Jaysa put an X on the calendar, marking another day gone, and surprisingly another year. New Year's Eve had always been her favorite holiday. She looked forward to the promise of new beginnings. Tears threatened. To distract herself, she prepared a cup of chamomile tea. Lost in her memories, Jaysa wandered to the front window and gazed outside.

The panoramic view of the alien valley below raised her spirits. The temperature outside registered a minus fifty degrees, warmer than usual. Trees that bloomed bright gold and red in the summer now stood as frosty sentinels around the compound. Winds from the West blew in gusts of seventy miles per hour, but the mature trees stood tall and unmoving. The younger trees, however, swayed; doing a dance resembling a yoga sun salutation.

The planet Verre Koude, meaning “distant cold,” was in the Andromeda Galaxy. The Sun was one and a quarter times farther from Verre Kouda than the distance of Earth's sun, so winter was the dominate season.

Jaysa and her husband, Jules, had volunteered to establish an outpost and do research on this new discovery. Their spacecraft was equipped to make the one-way trip and serve as their lodgings. Jaysa and Jules meant to raise their family on Verre Koude and send their discoveries to earth via a state of the art communications pod.

NASA had made no promises for future settlement or even supplies. It was an opportunity to be pioneers without a lifeline. The newlyweds saw it as the perfect adventure. Equally excited by the possibilities, they married on New Year's Eve, and one month later, took off for their new home. Their craft carried everything they needed, a comfortable apartment, greenhouse, medical and research lab, and the all-important communications pod. With enough supplies to get them through ten years, they realized survival would depend on ingenuity and skill, but they assumed more explorers would eventually join them.

However, a meteor storm during flight had destroyed one-third of the ship. The communication pod and the two small crafts, which were supposed to provide them with the transportation to explore their new world, were gone along with half of their supplies. The autopilot had jettisoned those compartments to save the ship.

Jules was confident he could find enough parts from the rest of the craft to create a new antennae that would allow them to communicate with Earth. He would use the undamaged communication equipment from the flight deck once they landed.

They'd settled their craft on a high mountain plateau with the valley and ocean spread in front of them. Jules had called it a good defensible position; Jaysa appreciated it for the view.

Their communications problem was the first thing Jules tackled while Jaysa gathered data and plotted their first movements across the planet for exploration. Jules was partially successful with his repairs. They could send messages and data, but they couldn't receive confirmation back from NASA.

It took months for Jules to build a receiver. Every evening they listened to static, hoping beyond hope that someone would return their messages. Two-way communication hadn't happened, but they'd settled into a regular routine.

Jaysa yearned for children to make their stay less lonely, but Jules refused to allow her to get pregnant. He didn't want his children to be alone with no hope of returning to Earth. Jaysa tried to convince him that NASA would send another ship, but Jules argued that the billions in funds that NASA had spent for this trip would be a political hot potato.

Procreation was the only source of discord between them.

Now Jules was gone. Maybe lost forever. She was alone. If he had granted her wish, she might have a child, maybe even children, to keep her company. Now all she had were the birds and beasts of Verre Koude, some more vicious than others.

Six months ago, Jules had left for the ocean intent on having fresh fish for dinner. He never returned. Jaysa searched for him for days, weeks, even months, but she never found his body.

She delayed her grief with false hope, but with her dream of adventure destroyed, Jaysa grew homesick. Instead of sending out data regarding her life on Verre Koude, she broadcast a repeating Mayday call.

This New Year's Eve would’ve been their eighth anniversary, five years of which they'd spent in cryostasis for their trip to Verre Koude. They'd had two and a half years of actual marriage and exploration, and she'd spent six months searching and grieving.

A pity party instead of a New Year's Eve party was all Jaysa had to look forward to, but something stirred inside her and she refused to allow depression to take control.

Dumping her cold tea, she went to the bathroom and showered. Putting on her most daring dress, and switching on her favorite music, Jaysa popped the cork on a bottle of Champaign and made her first toast.

"To you, Jules, and whatever the future may hold." She drank the glass in its entirety and sipped the next. Glancing outside, she noted the winds were calm, and the Aurora Borealis was providing a magnificent display of blues, greens and reds in a dramatic artistic swath across the heavens.

A strange light caught her eye. Jaysa thought it was a meteor but quickly realized the speed was too erratic. A ship on a crash course. Is this my rescue?

She changed into winter gear, grabbed her gun and skis, and headed down the mountain. Explosions and flames filled the sky. "Oh God, please let them survive!"

At the crash site, she found a man dressed in a t-shirt working to contain the fire. Tall and un-phased by the cold temperatures, his muscular arms glistened from his labors.

He looked up as she approached and smiled. She moved closer. Realizing that his dark purple skin meant her savior was alien, she stopped in her tracks, but his green-gold eyes conveyed delight allaying her fears.

999 words/FCA

Yolanda Renee © 2015