Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Selling Out

Here is my story for the Three Word Wednesday prompt this week:

“I can’t believe I just wrote that,” Val said in utter disgust after reading the last chapter of the book she’d been working on for months.

‘You can do this, Val. Slip a glittering vampire in and everybody will love it. Not every book has to be literary artwork.’

“I should have stuck to my guns and never let Abigail talk me into doing this stupid book. I know times are lean and I need some cash, but this is ridiculous!” Val muttered while gathering all the pages up to ship to her cheerleading agent.

“Abigail,” Val said when the agent answered her call. “The book is finished but I am far from happy with it.”

“What’s wrong with it?” the agent inquired.

“It’s about a glittering; weak willed, wimpy vampire is what’s wrong with it!”

Abigail sighed. Glad nothing serious was going on, she asked, “So it’s completely done and ready for me to shop it around?”

“Yes, but didn’t you hear me? It’s awful!”

“I’m sure it’s not awful, Val. You never write awful as your sales attest. You just have to write more often, which is why you did this book.”

Val knew the agent meant well but she was scared she’d lose fans by publishing this latest book. “I can’t do it, Abigail.”

“What do you mean, you can’t do it?” Abigail asked.

“I can’t put this book out there. I’m too ashamed.”

“Val, it’s just vampire fiction, not the end of the world.”

“To my fans, the fact that I dabbled in vampire fiction might lead to the end of me!” Val countered. “Mark my words, sales will go down if this book is published.”


“What was that you told me a few months ago?” Abigail teased Val. “Something about sales going down.”

Val blushed, looked around the packed auditorium at all the people waiting for her to sign a book, and finally gave her agent her due. “I bow to your wisdom, OH Great One. You were right. It seems commercial appeal is more important than literary merit these days.”

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Christ Church Revival

Here is my contribution to the Three Word Wednesday prompt. Seems I took the whole month of November off and didn't even realize it! I have two micro pieces for this week.

Story 1:

Pastor Johnson knew that with Jesus’ help, and a little effort on his part, he could bring about the demise of evil at the Christ Church Revival this year.

Story 2:

Cathy listened to Pastor Johnson go on and on about the demise of evil. All the while, she replayed their tryst of earlier in her mind. She knew, with no more effort than batting her eyelashes and licking her lips, she could make him forget the Christ Church Revival all together.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Living in the Moment

Here is my contribution for the Three Word Wednesday prompt. A short micro fiction piece this week.

A tremor ran through Eliza. Only a fragile thread of reality existed between sensation and the rampant descent into pure pleasure she knew was coming.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010


I have two little micro fiction pieces for the Three Word Wednesday prompt this week.

Story 1:

Ryan stopped short at Sandra’s demand. He was reconsidering his next move when he noticed the hint of sweat on her brow. As he slowly rubbed his hand across her arm, her sharp intake of breath and the sheen of lust in her eyes told him all he needed to know.

Story 2:

The sun was just a hint over the horizon but a sheen of sweat already covered Tyler’s neck. He spotted his prey when the man stepped from the bunker, and, sighting the rifle, took his shot. The feeling when the bullet struck and the man’s head flew apart satisfied some deep desire for blood lust in his soul that he refused to recognize but had to keep sating nonetheless.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010


Here is my contribution to the Three Word Wednesday prompt for the week. I hope y'all enjoy it.

Nancy knew that to tamper with the paperwork would result in the imminent demise of the current administration. Still, she couldn’t in good conscience leave things the way they were.

Without intervention, the bureaucratic machine would engulf all in its path, leading to the destruction of values she had always held dear. After one last prayer, Nancy started typing the letter that would end her career, but save her soul.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Working a Room

My contribution to the Three Word Wednesday prompt.

Sasha knew she was in a volatile situation. She could not afford to offend the board members for fear of losing a high paying client, but she had to speak out or risk the lives of hundreds.

She knew enough of the culture to know a woman’s views weren’t highly regarded at the best of times, and a strong woman with a direct gaze would be thought rude and garish and receive no quarter whatsoever, therefore, with a demure bow of her head, Sasha began her presentation.

Friday, September 10, 2010


Liam watched the cops drive away with his son. Tears streamed down his cheeks with the thought of all the terrible things his firstborn had done.

“Come along, Liam,” his wife prodded, grabbing his arm to lead him inside, out of view of all the neighbors who stood gawking at their pain.

After they were safely inside, Liam settled heavily into his armchair in the livingroom, lost in memories of his son’s childhood.

His wife fussed and flittered around the kitchen, dusted the livingroom and watched her favorite show on television. By ten o’clock, she’d had enough.

“Stop your moping, Liam,” she ordered. “We are not responsible for the bad choices that boy made!”

Liam knew his wife believed what she said, but she didn’t know what he knew. He assured her he would be fine, but all the while, he was hearing the words Father Sebastian had whispered when he went to him for confession last week.

“The sins of the father…”

Wednesday, September 8, 2010


Here are my contributions for the Three Word Wednesday prompt for the week. I put three up this time cause they are all short micro fiction pieces.

Story #1

Carl knew if he plied his robust charm, he would soon feast on the delectable Katherine.

Story #2

The feast was robust and James enjoyed it greatly. Some would say too greatly, because no matter his charm, broccoli in his teeth and ketchup on his tie were going to ensure he left the party alone.

Story #3
Marcus had a robust appetite. His mouth watered at sight of the feast laid before him. He knew if he played his cards right, he could charm the pants off anyone, and he planned to do just that to the delectable Stella who smiled up at him from the beach blanket she’d brought and stretched out for them.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Breaking the Ice

Here is my contribution to the Three Word Wednesday prompt for the week.

Thomas knew he had to break the tension hiding under the surface of all the false pleasantry filling the room. If they never got it out in the open, all the negative energy would eat them alive, and that was no way for family to live.

“I’m telling you, John tripped Kevin,” Thomas spoke into the uneasy silence that had settled over the room, and then sat back and smiled while his family fought over who really won the flag football game earlier, knowing there was no better way to get his family back on track than with a good fight.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010


Here are my contributions to the Three Word Wednesday prompt for the week. Couldn't decide which one I liked best so posting them both.

Story 1

Joy knew if she could only abstain a few more months, until she and Todd exchanged vows, her halo would await in Heaven. The only problem was it was getting harder and harder to do. Every time Todd pulled her close and kissed her tenderly, passions ran wild.

Spying that certain twinkle in the love of her life’s eye tonight, Joy offered up a fervent prayer and held on for dear life, hoping God was listening because she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer without help.

Story 2

Kayla pushed the cheap plastic halo back atop her head, hoping the man she was kneeling before would finish soon. The grimy taste and sickly sweet smell was so bad Kayla gagged.

“Hail Mary, full of grace…”

The prayer caught Kayla off guard. Her usual customer was more the cussing than praying kind. When he slipped the rosary beads around her neck, she knew things were fixing to get even kinkier.

When the beads grew tighter around her neck, Kayla offered a prayer of her own, vowing to abstain from her chosen profession, go to church, help the poor…whatever it took if God would only spare her life. Unfortunately, God was not in the room that night.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Small Cases

Here is my contribution to the Three Word Wednesday prompt. Hope y'all like it!

The terrible grimace on the girls’ face signified the end was very unpleasant. Even seasoned homicide detectives such as the two standing over the body were sickened when dealing with crimes like these.

“She didn’t even have a chance,” Gregor muttered, rubbing a weary hand on the back of his neck.

“None of them did,” his partner replied as he tried to push the images of the broken bodies of three other little girls they’d found out of his mind and concentrate on the one in front of him.

Both detectives moved out of the way when the coroner arrived and watched as the next phase of the investigation got underway. They knew crucial evidence was often found on a victim’s body and they definitely needed some evidence in this case. So far, the detectives had no leads and time was running out. Both were all too aware another attack was due any day now because this particular subject killed a different little girl each week.

“See anything that might help us, Doc?” Gregor asked, desperately hoping the bastard had finally left a clue, any clue that would offer a break in the case.

The coroner shook his head. “Nothing yet, Bart. I’ll know more after the full autopsy.”

Gregor and his partner knew the autopsy would be pushed to the front of the line. These killings were too close to home. All the girls lived within 2 miles of the station house, as if the killer were taunting law enforcement, daring them to find him. The fact that all the girls were under four added fuel to the fire and ensured the mayor, commissioner and every cop on the force wanted the case solved yesterday.

“Detective Gregor,” one of the deputies whispered and motioned for him to follow him outside.

“Yes, deputy?” Gregor asked when he and his partner stepped out the door.

“Another girl’s been found.”

“Shit!” Gregor roared.

“He’s testing us,” his partner added. “He usually hides the bodies well enough we don’t find them for a few days. He wants us to catch him.”

“I wish he’d just turn his sorry ass in then!” Gregor snapped before asking the address for the newest girl.

“1243 Center St.,” the deputy replied.

“No!” Gregor’s partner screamed and started running.

Gregor watched his partner stumble and then right himself as the rushed for their car. Yelling for the deputy to send every available unit, he chased after his partner. He reached him just as the man started to get behind the wheel.

“I’ll drive,” he told the distraught man.

His partner raced around the car and jumped in as Gregor squealed the tires and headed out.

“We shoulda caught the son of a bitch by now. I could have stopped it. I’m gonna kill him with my bare hands.”

Gregor let his partner ramble on, knowing there was nothing he could say to ease the pain. He just floored the car and raced toward 1243 Center St., where the man’s ex-wife and three-year-old daughter lived.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010


Here's my contribution to the Three Word Wednesday prompt. Been a few weeks since I participated. Hope y'all like this one.

Grimacing, Jane picked up her drink and gulped it down, relishing the slow burn despite herself. Her last feeble attempt at sobriety had lasted forty-eight hours. Forty-eight of the longest hours Jane had ever lived through.

Disgusted with herself, she surveyed her fellow drunks. You couldn’t call them anything else because only true drunks were still at the bar come three in the morning. Jane knew this from experience. She’d been a drunk since seventeen. She had figured out way back then that drinking numbed the pain, and her stepfather doled out plenty of pain to numb.

Once her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she spotted him. Jane always wanted someone to commiserate with when she drank. She sauntered over to his table and pulled a chair out. The man regarded her coolly, decided he liked what he saw and ordered her another drink.

Jane smiled and winked at him, pleased to note the blush it brought to his cheeks. She may not know how long she’d go without a drink from day to day or where the rent money was coming from, but one thing Jane could predict with certainty, was that she’d never go home alone. After all, her stepfather always said she was too pretty for her own good.

Thursday, June 17, 2010


Here's my contribution to the Three Word Wednesday prompt. Not my usual work, but still a violent concept in it's own right.

The rumble of machinery, fading into the distance, mingled with the settling dust to erase all trace of the meadow that had once brightened the landscape.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Looking on the Bright Side

My contribution to the Three Word Wednesday prompt for the week.

“I’ve got a theory,” Jake informed Miles.

“I’m open to anything at this point,” Miles replied, trying once more to move the boulder blocking their exit. “This thing just won’t budge.”

“You see that faint light coming from the first opening on the right?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“If there’s light, there’s a way out.”

“There could also be bears,” Miles replied, remembering all the shows he’d watched on Discovery Channel of people mauled by the grizzly creatures.

“If a bear was in here he’d have eaten us already,” Jake pointed out. “We’ve certainly been making enough noise.”

“True,” Miles agreed, peering into the dark tunnel the light was coming from. “Let’s go for it. What do we have to lose,” he added, walking forward.

Jake followed and the pair slowly made their way toward the small beacon of light. After a few minutes, they came upon a chamber.

“Any other ideas?” Miles asked, staring up thirty feet at a gaping hole, the source of the much sought after light.

“Ready to see just how nimble you are?” Jake replied, placing his left food on a protruding rock and securing handholds.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Abandon all Hope

I put together 3 different micro fiction pieces for the Three Word Wednesday prompt this week. I hope y'all like at least one of them!

Frankie noticed with frustration the gradual abandonment of precise, surgical cuts in favor of larger, haphazard gashes the assailant had left on the body that signified they would have caught the bastard in the act if not for the afternoon traffic snarl on Fifth.

The gradual abandonment of moral values led the small town to accept into their midst the precise monster stauncher proponents of strict rules of propriety would have stopped in his tracks. The rise in revenue kept him there.

A gradual, precise technique wrought specific, trusted results. Unfortunately, scientists in the Omnicore Lab had been told to speed things up, abandon normal protocols and get the product to market. Sam Grimes, one such scientist, watched in horror as the local news reported yet another breakout of a disease of unknown origin in the BellsTown high school. Shakily raising his hand, he cocked the gun and said one last prayer, ending the torture, unable to watch one more child die in the name of expediency.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Up in Smoke

This is my micro fiction entry for the Three Word Wednesday prompt.

Jared knew to pacify the demons he would have to do it again. He didn’t want to. Dread filled him at the thought, but he knew he had no other choice. He couldn’t fight it any longer. Fingers shaking, he lit the cigarette, his fragile grasp on willpower broken.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010


My story for the Three Word Wednesday prompt. Actually a little long for me this time!

“It’s a strange thing really, dying,” Renee whispered. “You feel almost weightless, the fear suddenly stops and you’re just sorta floating there in your body, although you aren’t really, you know, nobody can really float.”

She paused to swat a fly she could no longer ignore before continuing, “Thought I’d be done with flies after I died. I had enough of flies living in the alley, what with all the moldy food lying around. But then again, I didn’t die, did I?” she shrugged at the officer who had saved her life at the last moment. Rubbing the red welts around her throat, she then whispered, “Officer, do you think there are flies in Heaven?”

Bending closer to hear her clearly, and not certain what to say, the officer replied, “I’m not sure, Ma’am, but if they are I’m sure they don’t bother anyone.”

The slap of her hand hitting the bedside table startled the young officer so much he yelped and staggered backward, bumping into a nurse who had just entered to take vital signs.

“That’ll be nice,” Renee whispered, wiping her hand on the sheet, oblivious to the scare she’d given the man. “When I do really get there.”

Wednesday, April 21, 2010


This is my contribution to the Three Word Wednesday prompt for the week. Hope y'all like it!

Michael found it easy to negotiate the ebb and flow. He was just another random commuter, busy getting from one place to another. No one paid any attention when he dropped the paper bag, not, that is, until the explosion later that night. By that time, Michael was safely back home, watching events unfold on television like the rest of the world.

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

You can't win them all

I did two micro fiction stories for the Three Word Wednesday prompt this week. I couldn't decide which one I liked best.

Randy had a hunch his sacrifice wasn’t going to be given much consideration when Mark snapped a caustic, “Will you hurry the hell up, they’ll be home before we get done,” while sitting on top of the ledge, the impression from his boot heel permanently engraved on Randy’s head.

Shelly hunched her shoulders and rushed forward, knocking the man holding her hostage into a table holding beakers full of caustic substances. Twitching on the floor, secure in the knowledge security precautions had put the entire facility into lockdown, she watched the man jerk, blood seeping from his nose and ears as he inhaled his last breath and knew her sacrifice had been worth it.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010


This week's Three Word Wednesday micro fiction piece:

Mac pushed the shard deeper into Jenkins chest. Once the twitching and moaning stopped, he checked for a pulse. Satisfied the man was dead, he heaved a weary sigh, collected all his tools and left, hoping the next assignment would offer at least a glimmer of excitement or he feared his heart was going to stop beating too.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010


Here's my contribution to the Three Word Wednesday prompt.

Teri had to modify the mutinous expression she wore that held secrets to the pain she was soon going to inflict, drop a veil over her real feelings and smile like the obedient little wife she was supposed to be.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Playing the Hand You're Dealt

Here's my contribution to the Three Word Wednesday prompt for the week. Hope y'all enjoy it.

Trixie leaned forward, made the necessary adjustments, stood up and checked herself in the storefront window. A little tease here, a little fluff there and she was all set. Heading down the sidewalk, she frowned at Baby, all overflowing from the bustier she wore every night. She never has to worry that she won’t generate enough money to pay Buff and the rent, Trixie silently vented, standing up straighter to amplify the meager endowments she’d been blessed with.

A wolf whistle sliced the air and Trixie sauntered over, propped herself in the window and began negations. I guess some guys still ascribe to the saying that more than a mouthful is too much, she thought, forcing a smile.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

False Fricassee

My micro fiction piece for the Three Word Wednesday prompt this week. More lighthearted than usual, but I hope y'all enjoy it.

Celeste took a ragged breath. Squaring her shoulders, she began to tidy up. Hearing the doorbell, she admired her reflection in the mirrored surface of the oven. Blowing herself a kiss, she headed to open the door for a night she was sure would be the beginning of something wonderful, not aware of the pending disaster that would occur if her guest, renowned chef Pierre Blush, noticed the takeout box peaking from the trash bin.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010


This is my contribution for the Three Word Wednesday prompt. Micro fiction piece this week. Hope y'all like it.

In her rare lucid moments, between the alcohol binges and crying jags, Sandra knew she should push her righteous indignation aside and salvage what was left of her marriage. Unfortunately for Mark, who was staring down the barrel of a .45, tonight was not one of those moments.

Sunday, February 7, 2010


My contribution to the Simply Snickers poetry prompt for the week.

Sadness surrounds the soul
Hues of pain…purples, greens and blues
Mindless emotion controls
No energy left to choose

Friday, February 5, 2010

Deadly Consequences

This is a story I wrote for Sevastian's Short Story Thursday contest on facebook. I hope y'all enjoy it.

Jake Everson woke up one day in St. Barts and picked up the newspaper to discover he'd died that morning in Spain. He chuckled softly, burrowing deep into the covers and continued to read of his demise.

“At least I made the front page,” he snickered, reading about the accident that had supposedly taken not only his life, but the life of his wife Marie as well. His smile widened when he read about the injuries Marie had suffered. “Serves the bitch right,” he muttered, rereading the part about the skin being scorched off her face in the blaze. “Now both of her faces are gone.”

Putting the paper down, he swung his feet over the side of the bed and stretched. The sun shining through the windows sent a surge through him, reminding him of the engagement he had at noon. Pushing to his feet, he headed to the shower, whistling all the way.

He couldn’t help but congratulate himself on a job well done while soaping up. Marie thought she was so smart, he mused, cheating on me with that bastard James. And James, pretending to be my best friend. Guess he wishes he’d dicked around with another man’s wife now.

While dressing, Jake thought back to the encounter last night with James and Marie. He’d walked in on them, slap dab in the middle of a secret rendezvous. He let James thrust a few more times before making his presence known by pushing the barrel of his 9mm into the small of the man’s back. He laughed aloud, remembering the expressions on their faces.

They had stumbled over each other trying to explain. As if I didn’t have eyes, he thought, disgusted all over again. I played my part well though. The distraught husband, bawling over an unfaithful wife and the lies of a friend. I can’t believe they bought the shit I was spewing.

Jake shook his head, confounded at the stupidity of some people. Although, in this case, their stupidity had worked in his favor. He remembered how hard it was to contain a smile while screaming for the pair to get out of his sight, waving the gun wildly to make sure they complied.

After they left, he got the bags he’d packed earlier and headed to the airport, thanking his lucky stars he knew some unsavory types who were able to secure a fake passport for him. He couldn’t believe Marie had had the nerve to judge the clients he worked with, all the while slapping uglies with James. She always thought she was so smart, right until the end.

He wished he could have seen the look on their faces when they realized the brakes weren’t working. The paper had talked about the swerve marks on the road and the chipped off rock faces along the route the car had taken before busting through the guardrail and crashing in the cavern below.

Jake hadn’t been worried about the outcome. The road leading from their house to the bottom of the hill was one curve after another and steep as hell. Without brakes, there was no other way a car could end up but at the bottom of the cavern. The jug of gasoline he’d put in the trunk before going into the house to confront the bastards was just the icing on the cake. He had admired the fire that lit the night sky on his way past the carnage.

Pulling into the parking lot of an upscale hotel, Jake checked his hair and straightened his tie. He knew the authorities might eventually figure out it wasn’t him in the wreck, if they found the cut brake line, but, in his line of business they’d just assume a disgruntled client was responsible and might not even check DNA on the bodies, instead, just chalk it up to business as usual.

Spotting Julia across the restaurant, he smiled and decided the risk was worth it. Her beauty lit up the room and he was sure it would look even better on the beach in whatever out-of-the-way destination they picked to retire to. They’d be long gone before the police even thought to look their way.

“Hello, Beautiful,” he offered, kissing Julia on the cheek.

“Hello, yourself,” she replied, beaming up at him. “You look like the cat that ate the canary.”

After sitting down, Jake laughed, picked her hand up off the table and held it. “What can I say? I’m sitting with a gorgeous lady, in a five-star restaurant in one of the most beautiful places on earth.”

Julia laughed, “Oh, and it wouldn’t have anything to do with these, huh?” she asked, passing two airline tickets across the table.

Jake looked at the tickets and whistled, “First class.”

James’s wife smiled sweetly, replied, “James only buys the best,” and toasted Jake with her champagne glass.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Seeing Yourself Clearly

This is my contribution to the Three Word Wednesday prompt. Hope y'all like it!

“You shouldn’t be worrying with breakfast,” Tyler said, kissing his mother on the cheek and squeezing her arm in reassurance. “We can fend for ourselves.”

“I know you can, dear, but I need something to do,” she replied, wiping a tear from her eye. “I have to stay busy.”

“I understand. It was always that way,” Tyler agreed, remembering other breakfasts during times of crisis, with his mother working furiously at the stove, taking care of everyone else. “But this time is different.”

“We all grieve in our own way, Tyler.”

He knew that tone of voice. His mother was telling him to back off in her own unique way. Tyler couldn’t remember a time in his life when his mother wasn’t a beacon of strength. Everyone thought his father kept the family together, but Tyler knew different. He knew if the roles were reversed, and his father was here today instead of his mother, the whole clan would unravel at the seams.

“Uncle Tyler! Uncle Tyler!”

“Hey, buddy,” Tyler replied, scooping his four-year old nephew up in a bear hug. “What’s up?”

“Will you play outside with us? Everybody else is too busy.”

“Well, buddy, I don’t know,” Tyler said, watching his sisters walk into the room, eyes red-rimmed. “I think your mommy might need me.”

“Eva, Cheryl,” Tyler greeted them. “How are you two holding up?”

“As well as can be expected, I guess,” Eva replied, choking up.

Tyler crossed the room and took her in his arms. “We’ll make it through this, Sis. It won’t be easy, but we will. Dad would want us to.”

Cheryl patted his cheek, said, “You and mom, we always know we can count on you. Kindred spirits, responsible for taking care of the rest of us.”

Tyler smiled sheepishly, glancing at his mom serving up the eggs, realizing for the first time that he was his mother’s son.

Monday, January 18, 2010

Splishing and Splashing

"Come on, Granny!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Granny laughed, not minding the incessant pulling on her hand.

"I wanna turn the water on," Maggie said, rushing to the faucet, tripping over the hose in the process. Picking herself up and brushing her knees off, she continued undeterred. A little fall wasn't about to keep Maggie out of the pool today. She had been waiting all week for the rain to
so she could splash in the little pink pool Granny had bought.

"Are you okay?" Granny asked.

"I'm okay," Maggie assured her, turning toward the house to hide the trickle of blood seeping down her skinned knee.

Read more here...

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Love is Blind

Blinded by love, one eyeball plucked out at a time.