H A P P Y H A L
L O W E E N !
tHE WINNER'S OF THE
HAVE BEEN ANNOUNCED!
VISIT THE WINNERS
AND READ
SOME AMAZING STORIES
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!
Monday, October 30, 2017
Monday, October 16, 2017
WEP - DARK PLACES = GARGOYLES
THE SUPERMARKET TABLOID
FACT OR FICTION
“I knew it! Halloween night is when they fly. The man-eating gargoyles that prey on unsuspecting girls.” My ten-year-old brother Tommy said in earnest.
I laughed. “Don’t be stupid, gargoyles don’t exist.”
“Yes, they do!” He insisted.
I shrugged my shoulders.
“Witch. I’m telling mom you called me stupid! They do exist, and this proves it. He threw the paper at me and stormed off.
“Tattletale!” Younger brothers can be so silly. I picked up the supermarket tabloid that he’d left behind and read.
“Footprints in the snow are all that remain of thirteen-year-old Martha Belkin. On Halloween night her parents claim they heard her scream and swear they saw a large bird carry off their one-hundred-pound daughter. Police are investigating…”
I stopped reading. Chilled as though a winter breeze were blowing. I stared at the photograph. Footprints in the snow ended several feet from the barn. I could only imagine Martha’s terror. Was there a flying creature capable of carrying off children? I stared at the deepening darkness above the trees outside. I was sixteen when my brother warned me to beware of the monsters, that haunt the night sky....”
“I’m sorry, Jenna,” my boyfriend Rafe interrupted. Although a great story. My question had to do with how you decided to find a cure for hemophilia.”
“I was getting there.” I playfully punched Rafe, on the shoulder. It’s Halloween, and that is where it all began.” I studied the faces of our dinner guests.
“Please go on, Jenna. I’m curious as hell now. How did a story in the National Enquirer influence your goals?” Greg, my chief lab technician, said.
“Yes, please tell us. I’ve got goosebumps. Did they find little Martha?” Jane, my assistant, asked.
“No. Never. Nor have they found the other children that disappeared under similar circumstances.”
Whispers of shock circled the table. “You actually investigated?” Greg asked. I could hear the doubt in his voice.
“I researched every story, as well as the mystery and mythology of the gargoyle. I found an old text that claimed the gargoyle kidnapped and farmed adolescent children for their blood. And an inordinately high number of these abductions were of children afflicted with hemophilia. The ancient theory is that gargoyles needed the hemophiliac’s blood for infusions to keep their blood from crystalizing and turning them into stone.”
“Awesome. I love it. So due to your childhood phobia and this ancient mythology you wanted to cure hemophilia to save children from being carried off by gargoyles.”
“Odd isn’t it, almost laughable but I’m proud to say, we’re getting close to a real breakthrough.”
*~~*****~~*
Powerful winds blew us down the mountain. “Thank you for driving me into the city. I’m sorry, but Jane said they’d found the solution. I have to be there for the final test. If she’s right, we’ve cured hemophilia.”
“With this storm, I couldn’t let you go alone,” Rafe insisted. Besides, I’m funding this research, and if you’ve found the cure, I’ve got work to do too. Just imagine the future, the most extravagant wedding and honeymoon in the world.”
“Mr. Romantic,” I said and cuddled close. Thrilled with his trust, admiration, and love, I watched my fiancé skillfully maneuver through the blizzard to my lab.
When we arrived, I jumped out, excited to see the achievement of a lifetime to fruition, but an eerie silence greeted me. Something was wrong. I’d barely closed the truck door when I saw blood in the snow and then Greg’s dismembered body. His torso lay across the picture window sill, stuck on a large shard of glass, but his head and legs lay on the ground below him. Inside the lab, an orgy of blood and body parts adorned the clinical white of the once sterile environment. The only thing I recognized of Jane was her long blond hair. Now streaked with blood her scalp hung from the overhead light. I heard Raphe screaming my name, right before his head sailed past spraying me with blood. His body dropped at my feet as the sound of growling, and the rustle of wings grew intense.
Before I could articulate a scream, bloody talons grasped me by the shoulders. I was lifted from the ground, into the snowfall, above the clouds, and into darkness.
*~~*****~~*
The castle they’re holding me in sits high in the Andes’ but has a state of the art laboratory. Still, I’ve not made much progress. Without my team, I’m struggling to find the right formula. The gargoyles want me to keep their blood from crystallizing. I might have cured hemophilia, but the world isn’t aware because these monsters destroyed the records.
The worst part is that they continue to abduct adolescent children and farm them for their blood.
I’m hoping to kill the entire brood, but the gargoyles working beside me watch too closely. My only chance is to cure the children they’ve captured. My clotting agent should turn these child killers to stone, permanently …
~~ The End ~~
Yolanda Renee © 2017
832 words
H A
P P Y H A L L O W E E N !
THERE ARE MORE TALES TO READ
JUST FOLLOW THE LINKS!
Wednesday, October 4, 2017
IWSG - PHONES
Question: Have you ever slipped any of your personal information into your characters, either by accident or on purpose?
Although I have the least technical of the models. I’ll upgrade one day soon, maybe.
Yes, this is the phone on my wall. It's now art!
My experiences, the characteristics of family, friends, and strangers all make up the characters of my stories. A little fact, a lot of fiction, and loads of research make the story!
The awesome co-hosts are Olga Godim, Chemist Ken, Jennifer Hawes, and Tamara Narayan!
And don’t forget the
Insecure Writer’s Support Group Website!
Insecure Writer’s Support Group Website!
*****
It's that time of the year.
Dark Places
Sign-up NOW!
Saturday, September 16, 2017
LOOKING SKYWARD
Keep your face always toward the
sunshine – and shadows will fall behind you.
Walt
Whitman
Clouds come floating into my
life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset
sky.
Rabindranath
Tagore
Try to be a rainbow in someone’s
cloud.
Maya
Angelou
I hope your life is filled with sunshine!
Wednesday, September 6, 2017
IWSG - CHALLENGES
Question: Have you ever surprised yourself with your
writing? For example, by trying a new genre
you didn't think you'd be comfortable in?
Yes, when I wrote Ever-Ton, now in the anthology Parallels:Felix Was Here, my entry for the IWSG speculative fiction challenge in
2015. I’ve always loved science fiction; my brother was an avid reader and I’d sneak his paperbacks when he
wasn’t looking. He didn’t like to share.
I love a challenge, did the research and was surprised by the
story that formed. My muse was working diligently then?
Now, today, not so
much! I’m in a bit of a slump, due to outside influences. You know that thing
they call life, but I do see the light at
the end of this long, long tunnel.
Does your muse cooperate?
SIGN UP HERE:
Thursday, August 31, 2017
Monday, August 14, 2017
WEP - REUNIONS "FIRST LOVE NEVER DIES"
The WEP is all about the prompt
and this month it was
REUNIONS
Did you take the challenge?
Just add your name to the list.
But if you're here just for the stories,
ENJOY!
DL after the name means 'direct link' to the story.
*********
FIRST LOVE NEVER DIES
Mathew taught me how to catch
a football, and was Romeo to my Juliette in the school play, my first kiss, and
my first love. Mathew became my friend in grade school
and my lover in high school. When an opportunity to go to England for college arrived,
he insisted I take it. For the first year,
we tried maintaining a long-distance relationship
but failed.
He met someone else, and I had
to let him go. It was only fair. I’d left him. When I came home to bury my parents, I found that he’d not returned after
college. No one knew where he was. And then the reunion committee sent out the
invitations to our ten-year class reunion. I had to go. He might be there.
He was.
He caught my eye, and it was as though all those years
between hadn’t occurred. His smile told me all was forgiven. Still the most handsome man in the room, all muscle, with deep blue eyes, and dark
curly locks. He was just as I imagined, unassuming, funny, and sweet. I
couldn’t believe I’d ever let him go. I hoped this time it would end
differently.
“You never married?” I held
his hand in mine. “Me neither.”
“How could I, you were living
in another country.” Mathew grinned, and my heart melted.
“You do realize that air travel
has been possible since the last century?”
He laughed. “I’m a pilot. I’d
better be aware of that fact.”
I was impressed. I knew he graduated with an engineering degree, but I didn’t know he’d learned to fly a plane. “That’s wonderful,
congratulations!”
“I’d love to show you the
night sky. Would you fly with me?”
“I’d love to. When?”
“Now. I only came to this
shindig to see you.” He squeezed my hand. “Ready to blow this popsicle stand
for some adventure?”
“More than ready.” Those were
the last words we’d said to each other the day he saw me off at the airport for
my flight to England. Time stopped. The room disappeared. The music and noise
faded as he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. Long and deep until I was breathless. Just like our last
kiss, but this time, we left together.
His Piper Cub climbed into a
purple sky with stars lighting the night like millions of shimmering LED
lights. It was beautiful and romantic, a view that brought tears to my eyes. We
floated through the air. Silent, and comfortable, exchanging sly glances.
Emotions were high, the night was filled with possibility, promising passion, and love.
Mathew landed on a patch of land
just south a small chalet in the Rocky Mountains.
“I’ve dreamed of bringing you
here for years. You don’t mind, do you?”
“No, but, where are we?”
“My home away from home. A
place where we can have our own private reunion.”
“I’d like that,” I said as we walked hand in hand to his cabin.
I was anxious but thrilled. This reunion
couldn’t have been sweeter.
The cabin was an A-frame, with
a view of the valley below. I assumed a forest surrounded the lake that
reflected the stars above, and I imagined the mountains ahead and above us. It
was lovely, I couldn’t wait to see it in the morning sunshine.
We went straight to his bed
and made love in front of a fire. That night the reunion was physical, sensual,
and more satisfying than anything I could’ve imagined.
“Can you stay?” he asked as I
lay wrapped in his arms.
“I wish I could. I have an
interview Monday morning. The job of a lifetime in Paris. Can you come with me?
Is there anything holding you here?”
He pulled me close. “I’ll
think on it. Now sleep, morning will be
here soon.”
After several hours, I awoke to a stranger. Mathew
had secured me to the bed with handcuffs, blindfolded me, and proceeded to beat
me viciously with a leather strap. I cried, screamed, whimpered, and begged him
to stop.
He did, but not until my body
was a mass of bleeding welts.
“Why? Please tell me why?”
“You made your choice ten
years ago. Now I’ve made mine.”
“I don’t understand?”
“Neither did I.” Was all he
said.
He left me alone, still handcuffed
to the bed posts. Unable to move, I slept, cried, and screamed for release. I
don’t know if he was there. Was I alone or was he watching?
That night, he returned. He
threw me into the shower then he attacked again. He raped and stabbed me repeatedly.
I prayed for death. But the God’s would not release me from hell. I passed out but awoke just as he threw me into a new
hell hole. A cellar where women that looked like me had died. I counted ten in
my search for safety as a storm broke overhead.
The smell of death was beyond
reason, but decaying bodies, loss of blood, and a flooding grave meant the end
will come soon. The winds howled, and the
rain came down in sheets. Soon it was pouring into the chamber. I knew the grim
reaper had lost patience. My blood mixed with the rising water and I wondered
how long I could hold my breath. I
laughed instead and watched the water
rise. The other bodies began to float in a macabre synchronized fashion as I
realized that the man I’ve loved since the age of seven was a serial killer.
I’d created a monster?
***
The memory of that night will
never leave me. Especially when Mathew came back for me. He lovingly stitched
up my wounds and nursed me back to health. Now, when he takes a new victim, I clean up the
mess.
Mathew still doesn’t believe that I’d never leave him again. But
each year he adds length to the chain around my ankle. Someday, I’ll earn his
trust.
996/words
Yolanda
Renee © 2017
Monday, August 7, 2017
FEATURED!
An awesome blogging friend, C.
Lee McKenzie, author of some truly fabulous YA novels, and a blog called THE WRITE GAME has chosen me as
Featured Author for the month of August. I am beyond honored, and truly
thrilled for this great marketing opportunity.
WOW!
THANK YOU, LEE!
And she's sharing MY BOOKS!
It takes a true artist to pursue his
victims in the art of seduction, and Stowy Jenkins is no exception, especially
with blood as his medium.
Excerpt:
Reality Check
The axe struck again and again. The surrounding
snow-covered mountains echoed each chop. Muscles rippled, and sweat glistened
on a bare chest, but with each strike, the tension eased from Steven’s body. Jena’s rejection and Reed’s continued dismissal from
key crime scenes had him searching for answers, and the mountains of the Brooks
Range was the place he always found them. His Uncle Sky Quinn’s cabin had
always been a sanctuary. After his Uncle Atian was murdered, Quinn, an Inuit
tracker, became Steven’s honorary uncle and took over as his mentor and
trainer. But Quinn was much more than that to Steven, and while calling him
uncle was a sign of respect, he knew Quinn thought of him as a son.
“I had several days’ work out here,” Quinn said when he
handed Steven a bottle of water. “Appreciate your efforts. You remind me of Atian. He used to do the same thing when
troubled.”
Steven grinned, drank half the bottle
of water, and poured the rest over his head. “It’s just what I
needed.”
“The water or the work?”
“Both.” Steven began stacking the wood.
Quinn picked up a couple pieces of wood and
added them to the stack. They worked together in silence until Quinn asked, “What’s going on?”
Steven put the last of the wood on the pile. “There’s a
monster killing young women in Anchorage.”
“Why do you think he’s doing it?”
“Because he can. Because he gets off on it. Because the
bastard has the means.”
“So, he walks among ordinary folk, his evil cleverly
hidden.”
“Exactly. How do I unmask the beast?”
“Make him come to you.”
“If I were his type that would make it easy,” Steven
frowned. “But I think this monster means to make the state bleed.
“Such creatures are cunning. You need to make yourself
known to the beast. Get in his way. But, remember, if you bait
a grizzly, be prepared for a ferocious fight.”
&
A killer plays cat and mouse with a young widow
against the snowy backdrop of an Alaskan winter.
World damnation is a psychotic man’s goal, but two
obstacles stand in his way, greed and a dedicated detective.
&
Flames burn between a hardboiled cop and a gifted artist, but soon extinguish as another man’s obsession ignites into an inferno of desire, driving him to destroy the object of his madness.
Wednesday, August 2, 2017
IWSG - PET PEEVES
Question:
What are your pet peeves when reading/writing/editing?
My biggest pet peeve regarding READING is when the story ends in a cliffhanger. In other words, buy the next book, and I’ll let you in on the real ending. HATE, HATE, HATE that!
Setting up the next story in the series is great, but I think a writer needs to tell a complete story in each book!
I’ve no real pet peeves regarding WRITING other than the fact that it takes me much longer than I’d like, but I’ve never been disappointed in the result.
I find the EDITING process the most fun. I’ve found that the true story reveals itself after I’ve handed off what I originally considered a finished story to a talented editor.
Once they’ve made their
suggestions the real work begins, and the
book really begins to shine.
Thanks for stopping by. I can’t wait to read your pet peeves!
***
The awesome co-hosts are Christine Rains, Dolarah @ Book Lover, Ellen @ The Cynical Sailor, Yvonne Ventresca, and LG Keltner!
Be sure to say hello and thanks!
***
There’s a new WEP Challenge this month.
An interesting prompt – think class reunion, family reunion, long lost friends reunited – where does this prompt take you?
Sign up and share your story here!
Saturday, July 8, 2017
Wednesday, July 5, 2017
IWSG - REGROUP
Congratulations
to the founder
For making
the Writer’s Digest 19th Annual 101 Best
Websites for Writers!
AWESOME!
QUESTION OF THE MONTH!
What is one valuable lesson you've
learned since you started writing?
I’ve learned that laughter is an antidote
for a bad review! See the humor in their words,
and you’ll see the hilarity in your own.
I’ll be taking a break for a while. I need to regroup, redesign, revitalize.
© 2017 Yolanda Renée
I hope you’re all enjoying your summer/winter depending on the hemisphere you're in, and that all your writing goals
are being met!
Be sure to say hello to all the
awesome co-hosts Tamara Narayan, Pat Hatt, Patricia Lynne, Juneta Key, and Doreen McGettigan!
Have you visited the Insecure Writer’s Support Group Website
yet?
Remember the IWSG is on Twitter too - @TheIWSG and the hashtag is
#IWSG
Are you taking a break this summer/winter?
From writing, blogging, or just to enjoy the season?
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