Friday, August 29, 2014

#ThursThreads - Week 133 - Winners

Week 133 of #ThursThreads had some terrific tales. I'm honored to see all of the returning writers and read your stories. Thank you for coming back again and again to write and for helping me celebrate these years of flash. And so great to have so many new faces in the crowd this week. Welcome! Great thanks to George Varhalmi for judging this week. Be sure to check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on FB to keep up with news, etc.

  • Kirsten Blacketer | @KirBlacketer
  • Olivia Starke | @OliviaStarke
  • TwiAddicAnne
  • Charles W. Jones | @ChuckWesJ
  • Jason McKinney | @jason_mckinney
  • Anna Lund | @AnnaLund2011
  • Sheilagh Lee | @SweetSheil
  • P.T. Wyant | @PTWyant
  • Siobhan Muir | @SiobhanMuir
  • Wendy Strain | @WendyStrain
  • Kelly Heinen | @Aightball
  • Cate Derham | @Cate_Derham
  • Silver James | @SilverJames_
  • Charley Emma | @Charley_001
  • Even Sultry | @EvenSultry
  • Susanne Matthews | @jandsmatt
  • Cara Michaels | @caramichaels
  • Hunter Frost | @HunterFrostMM

Winners Announcement:

Honorable Mentions

Kelly Heinen | @Aightball
George says: The story had a lot of compassion and well done. Enjoyed it from beginning to end.

Silver James | @SilverJames_
George says: The back and forth banter was fun and brought life to the tale. Now where does it go, Silver knows.

Even Sultry | @EvenSultry
George says: Love the ending, it was a unique tale.

Week 133 Winner

George says: This was a great tale, I enjoyed it from beginning to end. The twist was slick, no pun intended.

“What the hell is he up to?” said Mikhail, watching Sergei walk his post along the perimeter fence. Sergei paused to tug on a section of wire fence. “Stupid’s been doing that for two hours. He walks his post, pauses, and pulls at that section before continuing on.”

“Maybe that’s his escape route.” Lipa peered at Sergei with her scoped AK74. “Perhaps I should do something about it.” She trusted the new transfer as much as Mikhail. “Maybe he’s a rebel sapper.”

Mikhail’s reply was cut off by explosions and gunfire from the base’s west end. “Contact, western sector,” cried their radios. “Rebels armed with RPGs and… Shi-”

Mikhail and Lipa watched their sector. Sergei stood watching them, smiling. A Russian military truck plowed through the fence. Figures leapt from the truck, opening fire as they landed.

“He’s a rebel,” cried Lipa. She fired and Sergei fell. “And that was that,” she spat. She looked to Mikhail, but he was dead.

Lipa sprinted and was almost to her position when something landed on her, knocking her unconscious.

It was nighttime when she awoke. She’d been tied naked, and spread eagle to the ground, illuminated by a spotlight.

“Don’t struggle,” said a voice beyond the light.

Lipa struggled.

“You won’t be raped,” said Sergei, stepping into the light.

“I killed you.”

“Bullets are now ineffective.” His mouth, hands, and uniform were bloody.

“What are you, monster?”

“Dear, clich├ęd Lipa. You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

And that was that.
Congratulations Winner Jason, Kelly, Silver, and Even! Don't forget to claim your badges and display them with pride. You certainly earned it!

Pass on the great news on Twitter, Facebook, Google Plus, shiny mirrors, Morse Code, and signal flags. Check out all the stories here. Thanks for stopping by and happy reading! :)

Thursday, August 28, 2014

#ThursThreads - The Challenge That Ties Tales Together - Week 133

Welcome back to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked. It's Thursday today, so get your flash ready. Writing a #flashfiction thread! Welcome to Week 133 of #ThursThreads, the challenge that ties tales together. Want to keep up each week? You're welcome to join the FB #ThursThreads group where we'll do events and make announcements. 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.
Rules to the Game:
  • This is a Flash Fiction challenge, which means your story must be a minimum of 100 words, maximum of 250.
  • 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 (or be excluded from judging)
  • Include your Twitter handle or email (so we know how to find 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, and Google Plus

Our Judge for Week 133:

Rock nerd, paleo-geek, mining geologist, and honorary cowboy, George Varhalmi.

And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

“You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

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!

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Mid Week Tease - Queen Bitch of the Callowwood Pack - Mine, mine, mine

Welcome to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked for a new year of Mid Week Tease hosted by Sandra Bunino.

Authors: this is a great opportunity to spotlight a few lines or even a paragraph or two from a new release or backlisted title. Readers: you get to sample some delicious snippets! We’ll do our best to tease, titillate and tantalize you into the weekend.

Today I'm offering snippets from Queen Bitch of the Callowwood Pack, a paranormal romantic suspense. Jeff Lightfoot is the heir apparent to the Callowwood Pack and now Julianna Morris has returned to her hometown for her dad's funeral. This is his POV and he's getting a whole new perspective on things at a crucial time in the turnover of pack hierachy.

Mine! Mine! Mine!
Jeff watched the burgundy Camaro slide away through the sunshine and clenched his fists at his sides to keep from bounding after it. He was fast enough to catch up to Julianna Morris, but it wouldn’t be appropriate for the future packleader of the Callowwood Pack to run after a female like a rabid dog. Protocols had to be followed and appearances had to be upheld. He tried to remind his cock of that, but the damn thing had a mind of its own, and right now it told him to run after his True Mate, appearances be damned.
“Dammit, calm down!” he snarled, and pounded his fist against his thigh hard enough to divert his attention from his groin to the pain. “You have to go back inside and face all those bitches and their families.”
The idea made him snarl even harder as he ground his teeth. He didn’t want any of them. They might be alpha females, true enough, but most were simpering, self-aggrandizing whelps wanting him only for his position and the prestige it gave them and their families. Every one of them thought she deserved to be the Queen Bitch of the Callowwood Pack.
Emphasis on bitch, he thought nastily, gulping great breaths of air to settle not only his hard-on but also his primal fury.
Pack policies and leadership protocols required him to interview several alpha female candidates for the position of his mate and Luna, the top Alpha female, for the betterment of the pack. It was tradition, left over from a time when Mates were few and far between. The pack needed a balanced leadership of male and female protection by their Alphas, but the Alpha’s True Mate hadn’t always appeared. The elders of each pack decided, if the future Alpha’s Mate did not appear, the leadership would be chosen by competition, and the future Alpha would choose from a group of likely alpha female candidates who passed a series of tests.
Times had changed. More Moon Singers—werewolves—lived among the humans now and finding True Mates was much easier. However, the tradition of the Luna selection remained in place for the Alphas, and he was bound by his rank to follow it. Before Julianna Morris had returned to Callowwood, the political requirements hadn’t bothered him.
Now everything had changed.
Holy First Canid, even her scent beguiled him. The combination of climbing gardenia and heated ponderosa pine forest wrapped around him with sensuous fingers. His hard-on flared again, along with uncertainty. Why didn’t I know she was a Moon Singer before?
Jeff had been attracted to Julianna ever since she’d started to develop breasts and hips. She’d flaunted herself at him all through her high school years with her cute, tight shirts and pants, sexy summer dresses and flirty attitude. Raging hormones filled her scent, taunting him with her delicious feminine musk. It was all he could do to treat her like another little sister and stay away from her, throwing himself into cold showers and punishing exercise routines. He’d never been so buff.
Whenever his mind demanded he take her and fuck her hard, he only stopped himself with two thoughts. First, she was too young and not nearly ready for sex, despite her beauty and innocent flirting. Second, she wasn’t a Moon Singer. She hadn’t smelled like one or acted like one, and her parents were human.
When the hell had that changed?
And when had she become his True Mate?

Available at Amazon | Bookstrand | Barnes & Noble | Kobo Books

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