Month: February 2020

Snippet Sunday – Yippy-Kai-Yay

Posted on by Siobhan Muir

It’s Snippet Sunday and I finally have a new book coming in the Concrete Angels MC series. It’s already March. Where the heck is the year going? Who said it could go this fast? Did someone speed it up? I’m showcasing ANGEL INK and it’s coming soon! In this snippet, we’re in Haley Michaels’ POV (all in first person) and she’s made it back to the party where she started before she witnessed a murder. This is unedited at the moment so forgive typos if you find them. ~~~~~~ Holy shit, I’d gone away for about an hour, and the party turned into a drunken holiday orgy while the ADA got murdered upstairs. Might as well have been the Nakatomi Plaza. Yippy-kai-yay, mudfucker. I spotted my “date” sharing a ménage with the man and women he’d been hanging around earlier and headed for the coat room. Was sex at a holiday party considered prostitution? I didn’t really want to know. I had to find a phone. I threw my coat over my shoulders and shoved my arms through the sleeves just as someone stumbled into me. Two someones. I lost my balance and fell into the mass of coats on the hangers, dropping to the floor. A high-pitched giggle was followed by the sound of a belt buckle coming undone and a drunken male grunt. “Oh, yeah, baby. Whip out that man-meat.” They’re not gonna—Never mind. Another male grunt combined with a matching female grunt and the sound of bodies hitting the wall, rhythmically, filled the coatroom space. The scent of arousal mixed with alcohol perfumed the air and I rubbed my face with my hands. I so don’t need this. Gritting my teeth, I stood up and pushed my way through the coats. “Excuse me.” The woman squawked, which was pretty impressive since the guy had her damn near folded in half against the wall as he jack-hammered into her. He didn’t even pause as I shoved past and I left them to their conjugal relations as I returned to the elevators. I needed to get out of here and find a phone. And a ride. How the hell was I gonna get home? ~~~~~~~ Nothing like getting the peepshow without asking. 😉 There are several great authors on the Weekend Writer Warriors list, the Snippet Sunday Facebook group, and the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group. A few of my favorites are, P.T. Wyant, Karen Michelle Nutt, Veronica Scott, Jessica Subject, Kathy Griffith Karysa Faire, and Iris Blobel. Here’s the blurb for ANGEL INK: Coming Soon Angels, Art, and Avarice: The magic of an angel’s heart…is written on his skin. Haley Michaels, Reporter I was minding my own business, trying to escape a party, and walked straight into a murder. Which would’ve been the scoop of a lifetime if my phone hadn’t died. And the door hadn’t locked. Now I’m stuck in a cabin in the mountains with a hot guy who appeared on the street like my knight on shining motorcycle, and I should be more worried than attracted. I mean, he’s covered in tattoos and is VP from the notorious Concrete Angels MC, the same group I’m investigating. Because I know they’re involved with the deaths of a U.S. Marshal and two FBI agents. My love life luck sucks. Michael, Concrete Angels’ VP Love isn’t something that archangels ever expect to feel. At least not the all-consuming, no-holds-barred kind of love spoken about in films and songs. But that’s what I felt the moment I laid eyes on Haley. She doesn’t know I’m not human, or just how inhuman the rest of my MC is, but I can’t stay away from her if I tried. Now I have to protect her – not only from the men hunting her, but also from the truth. The question is: will she stay when she finds out what I really am? Because if she can’t be trusted with the truth, Loki will make sure she can’t pass on the information. Permanently.

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#ThursThreads – Week 402 – Winners

Posted on by Siobhan Muir

Week 402 of #ThursThreads had many fantastic tales. I’m honored to see all the writers come to tie a tale as we start our eighth year. If you’ve been doing it a while, thank you. If you’ve just found us, welcome! May you come back again and write more great flash. Thousand thanks to Crystal Brown for judging this week. Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook or the #ThursThreads Group on MeWe to keep up with news, etc. Entries: Katheryn J. Avila | @katheryn_avila Bill Engleson | @billmelaterplea Silver James | @SilverJames_ Joe Hesch | @JAHesch Mark A. Morris Siobhan Muir | @SiobhanMuir David A. Ludwig | @DavidALudwig Sheilagh Lee | @SweetSheil Daelyn Morgana | @DaelynMorgana Cara Michaels | @caramichaels Kel J. Heinen | @Aightball Honorable Mentions Silver James | @SilverJames_ Crystal says: who doesn’t love a good mermaid or this story Merman. Would make a great series. Hint hint. Great story and use of the prompt. Story of Mermen would be hot. Katheryn J. Avila | @katheryn_avila Crystal says: Great story. Love your use of the prompt and your entire story leaves me wanting more. At first I thought Valmong was the bad guy but in the end felt like he was saving is lover. David A. Ludwig | @DavidALudwig Crystal says: Everyone loves a good pirate tale. Had a feel of Pirates of the Caribbean feel. With ghost pirates and everything. Great use of the prompt. winner announcement Week 402 Winner Joe Hesch | @JAHesch Crystal says: can relate to your story. I have a father in law who is fighting Alzheimer’s and it’s a struggle everyday and now he doesn’t know who I am. But on another note I hate that insurance commercial with the Emu. I laughed when you called it a stupid fucking bird. Great story. “Where’s Rosalie?” Pat Bowman asked as he peered over his son Mark’s shoulder toward the front door. “She was here this morning, Dad,” Mark said with a sigh. He sighed a lot these days, though tried not to. “Wasn’t that Becca?” Pat said. “Well, yeah. Becca was here. Rosalie came this morning.” “I would’ve sworn…” Pat’s attention refocused on the television. “She’s the one who came earlier, Dad. Trust me.” Mark decided to hold a big inhale this time. Therapists explained his father’s condition would become frustrating. Then would come the hard part. “Who the hell thought this stupid ostrich was a good idea to sell insurance,” the retired executive said. “It’s an emu, Dad. But you’re right.” “Stupid fucking bird. Assholes must think we’re idiots. If some ad man brought me this concept I’d throw him out the window. See if he could fly like some damn ostrich.” “Relax, Dad. It’s only a commercial.” Mark was seeing more of these tirades all the time. “When the hell is Rosalie coming? Was that a car?” Pat said. “Sit. It IS Rosalie’s car,” Mark sighed with relief in his voice. “Hi. I’ll take over now. Hi, Dad,” Rosalie said as she breezed into the living room. “Thanks, Ro. Bye, Dad.” Mark said. “So, is there anything I can do? Need a drink, something to eat?” Rosalie said. She stepped between her father and the television screen. “Yeah, get outta the way and tell me who that kid was who just left?” ~~~~~~~ Congratulations Four Time Winner Joe, and Honorable Mentions Silver, Katheryn, and David! Don’t forget to claim your badges and display them with pride. You certainly earned it! Pass on the great news on Twitter, Facebook, MeWe, shiny mirrors, Morse Code, and signal flags. Check out all the original tales HERE. Thanks for stopping by and happy reading! 🙂

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#ThursThreads – Tying Tales Together – Week 402

Posted on by Siobhan Muir

Welcome back to the home of Weird, Wild, & Wicked Tales. Today is Thursday and that means it’s time to start flashing. We’re half way through our eighth year of weekly prompts! This is Week 402 of #ThursThreads, the challenge that ties tales together. Want to keep up each week? Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook and the Group on MeWe. Need the rules? Read on. Here’s how it works: The prompt is a line from the previous week’s winning tale. The prompt can appear ANYWHERE in your story and is included in your word count. The prompt must be used as is. It can be split, but no intervening words can be inserted or tenses changed. Rules to the Game: This is a Flash Fiction challenge, which means your story must be a minimum of 100 words, maximum of 250. The story must be new writing, not a snippet from something published elsewhere with the prompt added. Incorporate the prompt anywhere into your story (included in your word count). Post your story in the comments section of this post Include your word count in the post (or be excluded from judging) Include your Twitter handle or email in the post (so we don’t have to look for you) The challenge is open 7 AM to 8 PM Mountain Time The winner will be announced on Friday, depending on how early the judge gets up. How it benefits you: You get a nifty cool badge to display on your blog or site (because we’re all about promotion – you know you are!) You get instant recognition of your writing prowess on this blog! Your writing colleagues shall announce and proclaim your greatness on Facebook, Twitter, MeWe, and Google Plus, etc. Our Judge for Week 402: Hard working Children’s RN, with the love of reading to relax, and sports fan, Crystal Brown. Facebook | Twitter And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together. The Prompt: “She’s the one who came earlier.” All stories written herein are the property (both intellectual and physical) of the authors. Comments do not represent the views of the host and the host reserves the right to remove any content. Now, away with you, Flash Fiction Fanatics, and show us your #ThursThreads. Good luck!

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Snippet Sunday – Think Forensics

Posted on by Siobhan Muir

It’s Snippet Sunday and I finally have a new book coming in the Concrete Angels MC series. It’s getting closer. Woot! I’m showcasing ANGEL INK and it’s coming soon! In this snippet, we’re in Haley Michaels’ POV (all in first person) and we’re picking up a few lines down from last week’s snippet. She’s hiding in the stairwell when she hears a murder. The killers have dumped the body in the stairwell with her just below them. This is unedited at the moment so forgive typos if you find them. ~~~~~~ Their voices faded as the door above started to close. Too late I realized that was my only ticket out of the stairwell with the dead guy. I whimpered with distaste and padded back up the stairs, hoping I’d be able to catch the door before it latched. Turns out, I needn’t have worried. The dead guy’s foot had caught in the door, holding it open about an inch. I glanced down at the body’s face as I made to pass it and stopped, my stomach dropping into my bare feet. “Holy shit, that’s ADA Patrick O’Donnell.” Inky had been right. Everyone knew Assistant District Attorney O’Donnell and they wouldn’t need his ID to identify him. And I’d been present at the scene of his murder. Without a functioning phone. This night just kept getting better and better. I had to find a way to both report on the ADA’s death and get the cops involved because I couldn’t do a damn thing about a dead guy in the stairwell. But if Backlog was involved, I wouldn’t know which cops were dirty. I crept up to the door and peered around the edge. The room beyond looked like a new office space with furniture wrapped in plastic and boxes of office equipment piled around. Nothing remained of the murder except some blood splatter on the floor and plastic wrap. I reached for the door to pull it open but stopped. Think forensics. The last thing I wanted to leave were footprints or fingerprints. I used the heel of my shoe to pull the door open wide enough to slip through, careful not to step in any of the blood. I wanted to bolt toward the elevators, but I forced myself to go slow enough to miss smudging the evidence. Forensics, forensics, forensics. I made it to the elevators and used the heel of my shoes to press the down button. Take only mental pictures and leave nothing else. Yeah, didn’t have the same ring to it as the usual line, but I didn’t want to broadcast my involvement. I put my shoes back on, the heels tight and cold, and stepped into the car. Shit, how am I gonna press the floor number? ~~~~~~~ The last thing she wants to do is leave fingerprints. 😉 There are several great authors on the Weekend Writer Warriors list, the Snippet Sunday Facebook group, and the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group. A few of my favorites are, P.T. Wyant, Karen Michelle Nutt, Veronica Scott, Jessica Subject, Kathy Griffith Karysa Faire, and Iris Blobel. Here’s the blurb for ANGEL INK: Coming Soon Angels, Art, and Avarice: The magic of an angel’s heart…is written on his skin. Haley Michaels, Reporter I was minding my own business, trying to escape a party, and walked straight into a murder. Which would’ve been the scoop of a lifetime if my phone hadn’t died. And the door hadn’t locked. Now I’m stuck in a cabin in the mountains with a hot guy who appeared on the street like my knight on shining motorcycle, and I should be more worried than attracted. I mean, he’s covered in tattoos and is VP from the notorious Concrete Angels MC, the same group I’m investigating. Because I know they’re involved with the deaths of a U.S. Marshal and two FBI agents. My love life luck sucks. Michael, Concrete Angels’ VP Love isn’t something that archangels ever expect to feel. At least not the all-consuming, no-holds-barred kind of love spoken about in films and songs. But that’s what I felt the moment I laid eyes on Haley. She doesn’t know I’m not human, or just how inhuman the rest of my MC is, but I can’t stay away from her if I tried. Now I have to protect her – not only from the men hunting her, but also from the truth. The question is: will she stay when she finds out what I really am? Because if she can’t be trusted with the truth, Loki will make sure she can’t pass on the information. Permanently.

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#ThursThreads – Week 401 – Winners

Posted on by Siobhan Muir

Week 401 of #ThursThreads had many fantastic tales. I’m honored to see all the writers come to tie a tale as we start our eighth year. If you’ve been doing it a while, thank you. If you’ve just found us, welcome! May you come back again and write more great flash. Thousand thanks to Eric Martell for judging this week. Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook or the #ThursThreads Group on MeWe to keep up with news, etc. Entries: Bill Engleson | @billmelaterplea Mark A. Morris Silver James | @SilverJames_ Sheilagh Lee | @SweetSheil Siobhan Muir | @SiobhanMuir Atticus Stryker | @TAFORU Kel J. Heinen | @Aightball Mark Ethridge | @mysoulstears David A. Ludwig | @DavidALudwig Catherine Derham | @cathencl_ M.T. Decker | @mishmhem Honorable Mentions Silver James | @SilverJames_ Eric says: Someday I’ll read one of her longer works. This one certainly drew me in. Mark Ethridge | @mysoulstears Eric says: How painful to be haunted by the dead who need you so badly and be unable to do a darned thing. winner announcement Week 401 Winner Mark A. Morris Eric says: As we get closer to dying, if we live long enough, we lose everything more often than not. Mark painted this beautifully and painfully. The nurse came to see me half an hour ago. Her name is Jill, or Jayne, or something else with a ‘J’. She’s a lovely girl, and she smells of honeysuckle, just like Julia did. “Mr Swanson? It’s Jackie. It’s time for your meds. You know you need to take them every day.” I look up and see her. It’s the nurse. I knew I recognised her. She’s the one who came earlier. She’s a new girl, someone I have only seen one time. She seems patient enough, although I doubt that she’ll last. The nurses never do here, always changing, none of them here more than a day. I don’t know what it is with them. No-one seems to care much these days. “Mr Swanson? Open up. Please, do it for me?” The nurse pulls me upright, slipping a pillow behind my back. She smells of honeysuckle like Julia did. She’s a strong girl, and she’s large, with hands the size of a ditch-digger’s, her fingers boring in so I can’t not open my mouth. She gives me a mouthful of horse tablets and a drink to make me swallow. They taste like ash or flint or some other impalatable muck. She reminds me of someone; somebody I loved. I think she was smaller though – or is it me? Have I changed? It seems so long ago now. I know she used to smell like honeysuckle. And I’m sure she was called Julia – either Julia or Joan.~~~~~~~ Congratulations Sixteen Time Winner Mark, and Honorable Mentions Silver and Mark! Don’t forget to claim your badges and display them with pride. You certainly earned it! Pass on the great news on Twitter, Facebook, MeWe, shiny mirrors, Morse Code, and signal flags. Check out all the original tales HERE. Thanks for stopping by and happy reading! 🙂

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#ThursThreads – Tying Tales Together – Week 401

Posted on by Siobhan Muir

Welcome back to the home of Weird, Wild, & Wicked Tales. Today is Thursday and that means it’s time to start flashing. We’re half way through our eighth year of weekly prompts! This is Week 401 of #ThursThreads, the challenge that ties tales together. Want to keep up each week? Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook and the Group on MeWe. Need the rules? Read on. Here’s how it works: The prompt is a line from the previous week’s winning tale. The prompt can appear ANYWHERE in your story and is included in your word count. The prompt must be used as is. It can be split, but no intervening words can be inserted or tenses changed. Rules to the Game: This is a Flash Fiction challenge, which means your story must be a minimum of 100 words, maximum of 250. The story must be new writing, not a snippet from something published elsewhere with the prompt added. Incorporate the prompt anywhere into your story (included in your word count). Post your story in the comments section of this post Include your word count in the post (or be excluded from judging) Include your Twitter handle or email in the post (so we don’t have to look for you) The challenge is open 7 AM to 8 PM Mountain Time The winner will be announced on Friday, depending on how early the judge gets up. How it benefits you: You get a nifty cool badge to display on your blog or site (because we’re all about promotion – you know you are!) You get instant recognition of your writing prowess on this blog! Your writing colleagues shall announce and proclaim your greatness on Facebook, Twitter, MeWe, and Google Plus, etc. Our Judge for Week 401: Scientist, Dad, and flash fiction author, Eric Martell. Facebook | Twitter | And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together. The Prompt: “Someone I have only seen one time.” All stories written herein are the property (both intellectual and physical) of the authors. Comments do not represent the views of the host and the host reserves the right to remove any content. Now, away with you, Flash Fiction Fanatics, and show us your #ThursThreads. Good luck!

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Snippet Sunday – Police Your Brass

Posted on by Siobhan Muir

It’s Snippet Sunday and I finally have a new book coming in the Concrete Angels MC series. Plus you get to enjoy the cover. Woot! I’m showcasing ANGEL INK and it’s coming soon! In this snippet, we’re in Haley Michaels’ POV (all in first person) and she’s at a Valentine’s Day party of the movers and shakers of the news scene, except her boyfriend ignored her in favor of some other “hot” women and she’s now in the staircase trying to decide what to do. And her phone’s dead. This is unedited at the moment so forgive typos if you find them. ~~~~~~ Sighing, I stood up and pulled my skirt back down to the proper length. Yeah, I’d be getting rid of this dress as soon as I got home. I hated when the fitted skirts rode up. All right, Michaels. Let’s do this. I grasped the door handle and pulled. Nothing happened. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I yanked on the door, but the latch held despite using all of my hundred and sixty-five plus pounds of weight. The door was locked and no one could hear me in the party. And my phone was dead. “Oh my GLORY!” I slammed my hand against the door, hoping someone might actually hear me over the damn music, but no one came to check it out. “Fuck!” Biting my bottom lip, I looked up the staircase. Maybe one of the other doors were unlocked and I could at least get back into the building. I memorized the floor number on the party’s door and climbed the stairs to the next floor. I was about to bang on it, but I paused when I heard what sounded like voices coming from the other side. Logically, it would’ve made sense to thump on the door and have them open it for me. But something made me pause. The voices weren’t loud, but they didn’t sound happy or particularly friendly. Maybe I didn’t want them to know I was there. This was confirmed a moment later when someone said, “You shoulda thought of that before you went up against Backlog. You was warned. Now you’re gonna pay.” What the hell is Backlog? Before I could peer up the stairs, I heard someone shout what sounded like, “No, wait! Don’t!” Just before two gun shots rang out. I gasped and froze, holding my breath. Not that they knew I was there, but I wasn’t about to take any chances they’d notice me. “All right, come on. Get his legs and throw him in the stairwell. They won’t find him until we’re long gone. And don’t forget to police your brass.” ~~~~~~~ Well that’s not going as she planned. 😉 There are several great authors on the Weekend Writer Warriors list, the Snippet Sunday Facebook group, and the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group. A few of my favorites are, P.T. Wyant, Karen Michelle Nutt, Veronica Scott, Jessica Subject, Kathy Griffith Karysa Faire, and Iris Blobel. Here’s the blurb for ANGEL INK: Coming Soon Angels, Art, and Avarice: The magic of an angel’s heart…is written on his skin. Haley Michaels, Reporter I was minding my own business, trying to escape a party, and walked straight into a murder. Which would’ve been the scoop of a lifetime if my phone hadn’t died. And the door hadn’t locked. Now I’m stuck in a cabin in the mountains with a hot guy who appeared on the street like my knight on shining motorcycle, and I should be more worried than attracted. I mean, he’s covered in tattoos and is VP from the notorious Concrete Angels MC, the same group I’m investigating. Because I know they’re involved with the deaths of a U.S. Marshal and two FBI agents. My love life luck sucks. Michael, Concrete Angels’ VP Love isn’t something that archangels ever expect to feel. At least not the all-consuming, no-holds-barred kind of love spoken about in films and songs. But that’s what I felt the moment I laid eyes on Haley. She doesn’t know I’m not human, or just how inhuman the rest of my MC is, but I can’t stay away from her if I tried. Now I have to protect her – not only from the men hunting her, but also from the truth. The question is: will she stay when she finds out what I really am? Because if she can’t be trusted with the truth, Loki will make sure she can’t pass on the information. Permanently.

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#ThursThreads – Week 400 – Winners

Posted on by Siobhan Muir

Week 400 of #ThursThreads had many fantastic tales. I’m honored to see all the writers come to tie a tale as we start our eighth year. If you’ve been doing it a while, thank you. If you’ve just found us, welcome! May you come back again and write more great flash. Thousand thanks to Daelyn Morgana for judging this week. Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook or the #ThursThreads Group on MeWe to keep up with news, etc. Entries: Bill Engleson | @billmelaterplea Cara Michaels | @caramichaels Siobhan Muir | @SiobhanMuir Silver James | @SilverJames_ David A. Ludwig | @DavidALudwig Sheilagh Lee | @SweetSheil Mark Ethridge | @mysoulstears Katheryn J. Avila | @katheryn_avila Honorable Mention Katheryn J. Avila | @katheryn_avila Daelyn says: What can I say? I’m a sucker for fantasy and when I see a potentially dark character hinted at I get hooked fast. A part of me wonders if what I think Valmong is, isn’t actually what he is though. Hmm. A well written tale that I would love to see more of. winner announcement Week 400 Winner Mark Ethridge | @mysoulstears Daelyn says: I fell in love with the cold truth of this tale. It packs a punch of reality that squeezes at the heart and also makes you shake your head at the troubles of our world. I adore the mystery factor, too. How you know what happened but also don’t know what happened between the two characters, and that you also don’t really know the two characters. This was quite craftily written and very well done. Sometimes, the dreams happen with my eyes wide open, and the sun shining outside. Even then, I still see them, every time I blink, every time I pause, and close my eyes. One keeps repeating, endlessly. Someone I know. Someone I have only seen one time. I wrote a message to her once, “If you ever ask for my help, I’ll find a way.” I haven’t spoken to her in years now. She’s gone. A classic falling out, politics, and religion, and all that crap that turns people into enemies, and drives friends apart. Yet, there she is, in that dream. “You left, you know. It was you, not me.” Those blue eyes, drilled right through me. “I didn’t leave you. I left your friends. Your environment.” Always, I tried to explain, even though I knew no one had ever understood. “You told me you would find a way, if I ever asked for help.” “I meant it then. I mean it now.” Somehow, I knew she would never ask. I knew she couldn’t understand. “If you were to ask, do you think I’ll say no?” “Yes.” Those blue eyes were gone. I’d never see them again. Regret? Maybe. Past mistakes? Of course. Fixable? Never. And that damn dream kept reminding me of that truth. And when the dream ended, there I was, like always, asking God to let me die. Knowing damn well it wasn’t my time. And that dream would happen. Again. Endlessly. ~~~~~~~ Congratulations Six Time Winner Mark, and Honorable Mention Katheryn! Don’t forget to claim your badges and display them with pride. You certainly earned it! Pass on the great news on Twitter, Facebook, MeWe, shiny mirrors, Morse Code, and signal flags. Check out all the original tales HERE. Thanks for stopping by and happy reading! 🙂

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#ThursThreads – Tying Tales Together – Week 400

Posted on by Siobhan Muir

Welcome back to the home of Weird, Wild, & Wicked Tales. Today is Thursday and that means it’s time to start flashing. We’re half way through our eighth year of weekly prompts! This is Week 400 of #ThursThreads… I need to take a moment to let that sink in… 400 weeks? How can that be? *counts on fingers and toes* Four Hundred Weeks, wow. This weekly challenge that ties tales together has been here almost 8 solid years. Want to keep up each week? Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook and the Group on MeWe. Need the rules? Read on. Here’s how it works: The prompt is a line from the previous week’s winning tale. The prompt can appear ANYWHERE in your story and is included in your word count. The prompt must be used as is. It can be split, but no intervening words can be inserted or tenses changed. Rules to the Game: This is a Flash Fiction challenge, which means your story must be a minimum of 100 words, maximum of 250. The story must be new writing, not a snippet from something published elsewhere with the prompt added. Incorporate the prompt anywhere into your story (included in your word count). Post your story in the comments section of this post Include your word count in the post (or be excluded from judging) Include your Twitter handle or email in the post (so we don’t have to look for you) The challenge is open 7 AM to 8 PM Mountain Time The winner will be announced on Friday, depending on how early the judge gets up. How it benefits you: You get a nifty cool badge to display on your blog or site (because we’re all about promotion – you know you are!) You get instant recognition of your writing prowess on this blog! Your writing colleagues shall announce and proclaim your greatness on Facebook, Twitter, MeWe, and Google Plus, etc. Our Judge for Week 400: Dark fantasy author, archer, and horsewoman, Daelyn Morgana. Facebook | Twitter |  And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together. The Prompt: “Do you think I’ll say no?” All stories written herein are the property (both intellectual and physical) of the authors. Now, away with you, Flash Fiction Fanatics, and show us your #ThursThreads. Good luck!

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#LoveBites2020 – Forbidden Love

Posted on by Siobhan Muir

It’s that time of year again. The time when everything turns red, white, and pink with a unhealthy helping of chocolate and flowers. This year, Katheryn Avila is hosting the Love Bites flash fiction challenge, but you get to pick the romance trope for your tale. #LoveBites2020. Click HERE to enter your link and see the other entries. WRITERS: Be sure to check out the challenge and add your story for a chance to win ($10 Amazon card for 1st place, $5 for 2nd). This year, we offered five different romance tropes found in romance novels to choose from to set your muse on fire. I chose the trope “Forbidden Love” for my ineligible entry, the trope of two people loving each other even if they’re not supposed to. And the story that jumped out for me is a plot bunny that just won’t leave me alone. Enjoy. SNAIFU. Roxanne thought the unit’s name was stupid – Supernatural Anomalies Investigative Field Unit – and sounded way too close SNAFU. She let her gaze slide over the landscape as the van pulled off the two-lane highway. They passed through a fence, rumbling over a cattleguard before heading down a hill. If she hadn’t been there before, she would’ve wondered if they were taking her to a Black Site. Might as well be for all I can talk about it. She didn’t think even her escort knew where they were actually taking her as they drove up onto another plateau. Leaving her team, friends, and family daunted her, but the chance to see Ambrose again overrode the last of her worries as the van pulled up in front of the wildlife sanctuary’s visitor center. She unclipped her seat belt and opened the sliding door before the men in front could get out. They both gave her a non-plussed look as she moved to the back to grab her duffle bag. It wasn’t much, but where she was going, she didn’t need the accoutrements of this world. Hell, she wasn’t even bringing her service weapon or her cell phone. She threw the bag over her shoulder and waited on the men. They didn’t say anything, just led her into the visitor’s center. She pulled off her cover and scanned the inside. She didn’t see anyone she knew, but that wasn’t a surprise. Mack had told her they hired students and interns to man the desk in the summer. Though the calendar said May, the weather wasn’t cooperating. “Can I help you?” An older woman with silver hair wrapped up in complex braids settled behind the desk with a warm smile. “Yes, ma’am. We’re here to talk with Major McMacken.” “Oh, of course. He’s in his office. Let me buzz him.” She picked up the phone and spoke into it while Roxanne went back to staring at a poster illustrating the different species found on the sanctuary. Antelope, mule deer, moose, elk, grizzly bears, coyotes, wolves, a whole host of rodents and birds and weasels, buffalo, skunk, cougar, bobcat, badger, and the occasional wolverine. And let’s not forget centaurs. Yeah, not on this side of the Rift. Roxanne let her gaze drift out the windows, but she wasn’t seeing the Wyoming wilderness. Her vision filled with the river valley around Cederfell, the centaur village where Ambrose had been stationed. She pictured his broad shoulders stretching his natural camouflage vest, held down by the leather straps of his bow and quiver. Tears filled her eyes and her throat closed. It had been so long. He was sure to think she’d abandoned him for her own world. Aw glory, please say he hasn’t written me off. “Staff Sergeant Bailey?” Her new rank in SNAIFU. Yay, promotion. Her CO, Major ret. Mack McMacken made her turn and salute. “Yes, sir.” “I’m glad you made it back all right. While I intend to go over a few things with you, right now I need you in the training yard. I’ll finish with your escort and meet you there.” “Yes, sir.” She saluted again and headed for the doorway to the back of the visitor’s center, her heart in her throat. Passing through the Rift always made the hair at her neck stand up, but her heart thundered with the anticipation of seeing Ambrose again. If he hasn’t been court martialed. That didn’t worry her as much as his rejection. They’d had a forbidden love. Centaur and human weren’t meant to be together. But her heart had other ideas, and she hoped his had, too. She stepped out of the stone temple into the light and held her breath. He stood bathed in the sunlight, burly arms crossed over his chest, and his dark head bent as if lost in thought. But she’d recognize him anywhere, especially with that one white sock on his left hind foot. He was so beautiful, the tears started again and she gritted her teeth to keep them at bay. “Ambrose.” She whispered his name like a prayer, but cleared her throat as she reined in her emotion. Hahaha funny. “Corporal Swift?” His head came up with a jerk and his nostrils flared as if taking in her scent. Then he was there, his arms wrapped around her back and his nose buried in her neck as he lifted her off the ground. “Sweet Goddess Epona, I’ve missed you.” 746 ineligible #PlotBunny words / © 2020 Siobhan Muir And just to give you a little teaser of where this tale is going, here’s the cover to The Siren and The Centaur, coming soon.

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