Week 480 of #ThursThreads had many fantastic tales. What an amazing feat we’ve pulled off. Nine years! If you’ve been doing it a while, thank you for coming back each week. If you’ve just found us, welcome! You’re in good company. May you come back again and write more great flash. A thousand thanks to Heidi Rundle for judging this week. Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook or the #ThursThreads Group on MeWe to keep up with news, etc.
- Miya Kressin | @miya_kressin
- Gora Shade | @AngoraShade
- Katheryn J. Avila | @katheryn_avila
- Richard Gibney | @ragtaggiggagon
- Terri Mertz | @rrats1231
- Bill Engleson | @billmelaterplea
- Silver James | @SilverJames_
- Mark A. Morris
- David A. Ludwig | @DavidALudwig
- Louisa Bacio | @Louisabacio
- Siobhan Muir | @SiobhanMuir
- Sheilagh Lee | @SweetSheil
- Kelly Heinen | @Aightball
- M.T. Decker | @mishmhem
Gora Shade | @AngoraShade
Heidi says: Interesting. It’s leading you into something wonderful.
Louisa Bacio | @Louisabacio
Heidi says: Great writing. Effortless. You can tell how great this would be in a book.
M.T. Decker | @mishmhem
Heidi says: Loved the should I. the opportunity of it should I….. or?
Week 480 Winner
Heidi says: It’s so good in just a short time/words. I’m wanting more.
“You could stay.”
Maura’s head jerked. She stared at Ronan. This man… He was such a…man. All man. What did the romance novels call a male like him? Alpha. Oh, yes, he was totally an alpha. Large and in charge. Always in control. Of his world. His men. His life. His emotions. But the timbre of his voice, the fleeting plea in his eyes rocked her. He sounded unsure, a first since their initial encounter.
Ronan O’Connor was a hard man. She’d found no give in him. Ever. He was a criminal. She didn’t want to consider how much blood he had on his hands—figuratively or literally. She was fairly certain there was plenty of both. Yet here he stood in his impeccably decorated townhouse looking like… Not a boy. His face was too sculpted with defining planes and a hard jaw. Still, there was something about the way he stood, the way his gaze met hers, the way his fingers curled as he held his arms stiffly at his sides like he had to force himself to remain still.
She regarded him solemnly for several long moments before speaking. “I could.”
It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t an answer either. Ronan fought to control his wolf. The damn thing wanted this woman with a ferocity that almost took him to his knees. In fact, if he thought that would help, he’d drop to them and beg her. He was well and truly moonstruck. And totally screwed.
Congratulations FIFTY-THREE TIME WINNER Silver, and Honorable Mentions Gora, Louisa, and Mary! 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! 🙂