Thursday, February 14, 2013

#ThursThreads - Tying Tales Together for Valentine's Day - Week 58

Welcome back to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked, and Happy Valentine's Day! Since I'm a romance author it seems appropriate to do something special for the day of Love. So in addition to writing an overall winner, there will be prizes this time for Most Romantic Story, Funniest Story, as well as Honorable Mention. So let's get started. Welcome to Week 58 of #ThursThreads, the challenge that ties tales together. 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 as written 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 7 PM Pacific 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 58:

The erotic romance author who loves roses, and has a new release out, Sandra Bunino.

So now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

“What good does it do?”

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. And remember, there are prizes for Most Romantic and Funniest Stories this week. Good luck! :)


  1. With a gentle touch, she grasped the towel covering his modesty. He continued to sleep, recovering from his injuries. She has been nursing him for days, never straying near that forbidden zone the Mother Superior warned them not to disturb.
    “He has nothing wrong there, I assure you. See to those cuts and burns.”
    Mary had no idea how he came by such specific lines and circles on his skin. Even half-healed, the bright pink scars made shapes and patterns, as though it hadn’t been an accident.
    His skin, deep olive, shone where the scars didn’t obscure. His dark hair was long and tangled on half his head, the other half with short stubble where the burned frizz had been cut away. There was something strange about this man and his injuries. Not the least of which was the fact that he hadn’t moved since the Abbot had brought him.
    What good does it do? What if there were injuries beneath? The shape was right and a quick inspection was wise. She had seen many naked men; the poor often wore nothing but dirt and caked mud when they arrived, and witnessing their members only made her more grateful for her vow of chastity.
    They had all been dirty, hairy, smelly things. What she found beneath the towel was none of these. His hairless chest and belly continued smoothly around the place where his penis should have been, but instead of flesh, a segment metal appendage rested between his thighs.
    250 words @kimmydonn

  2. Have A Heart

    The doctor stood back from the gurney and smiled. He prayed that the procedure worked. As his patient awoke, he stifled his fidgeting.

    “There we are, my dear boy! Tell me Stanley, how are we feeling?” The doctor checked his patient’s vital signs and skin temperature. All were in normal range. So far so good.

    “I feel strange, sir.” Stanley blinked and swallowed. “Could you please tell me again what this operation was for?”

    “Why to give you a heart!” The doctor laughed. “Tell me how do you feel?’

    “Sir?, This heart, what good does it do?” Stanley sat up finally and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He looked at the doctor and blinked. He hunched over in his usual position.

    The doctor gave a sigh. “Do you remember, that woman you asked about some time ago? The one with the red hair?”

    Stanley sat up straight. Eyes wide he smiled. “She’s here? Where? How long will she stay? Do you know her name?”

    The doctor kept his grin in check. “She’ll be here for a while yet. Why don’t you get dressed? She’s just down in the lounge.” The doctor helped his patient get dressed and ushered him to the door. “Now remember, her name is Stella.” He patted Stanley on the back and set him on his way.

    “Thank you Dr. Frankenstein!” Stanley called as he sprinted down the hall.

    The doctor smiled and waved. “Yes, I think that heart is working just fine.”

    250 Words - without title
    Theresa Breaux

  3. QUIET

    Annette sat quietly in the caravan, listening to the rain beating on the roof. What good does it do she wondered. Thinking?

    It does no good at all.

    How very different it was here now.

    The little chain of bells were motionless against the window of the door. No happy children rushing in to beg her come look. No proud husband with a disgusting fish he expected her to cook for supper.

    They were all gone. Dead. There was nothing left for her now.

    One last kiss for each of her sleeping family. She opened the whiskey and shook the tablets into her palm.

    It was the noise she couldn't stand. Now she hated the quiet.
    117 words - inc title
    Rosalind Smith-Nazilli

  4. Forever Scarred

    "Burn the Karma Sutra."
    "What? No."
    "Yes. We are going to burn it."
    "Hon, no. Just because your arm is in a sling..."
    "What good does it do? I'll tell you. None. None at all."
    "Okay, fine. But can we at least keep the pink, fuzzy handcuffs?"
    "Why? It was the handcuffs that gave you the stupid idea for the Karma Sutra."
    "I thought you liked them. You told me they felt soft against your skin."
    "Well.......fine. They did."
    "There." Pause. "So we can keep them?"
    "......I guess so."

    50 years later.

    "And that, kiddies, is how we got your mother."

    The kids all stared at Grandpa Bill with shocked and disgusted expressions on their faces. An awkward silence filled the air, seeming to last for ages.

    "Kids! Time to eat!" The children seemed relieved when Grandma Betty called them in for dinner. They left as quickly as they could, trying to forget the story just fresh in their minds.

    "Hey, sweetie." Betty came in to where her husband was sitting and stood in front of him. The looks she had seen on her grandchildren's faces made her curious as to what had just happened. "What's wrong with them?" She indicated to the last couple of stragglers almost running out of the room.

    Bill took Betty's hand and patted it lovingly. "It was nothing. Just telling the story of our first valentine's day as husband and wife."

    246 words

  5. Moving over to where she lay, Domnu pressed his palm to Jyslin’s forehead, brow furrowed. Her skin was warm to the touch. Not a good sign. If she developed an infection or spiked a fever, there would be little he would be able to do to help her. Not without medicinal herbs or supplies beyond what was available in their sparse shelter. It would be up to her to fight off death.

    The notion didn’t sit well with Domnu. In fact, he found the idea only angered him. He refused to accept his helplessness. Not when it came to her. She was his match. Meant for him, he knew it. He would not let her go now that he’d finally found her.

    He sat back on his haunches and swung his gaze to the owl watching from the corner. She’d called the animal her Spirit Twin. He wondered just how strong their bond really was. Did the creature feel her pain? Did it understand how bad her injuries were? Could he communicate with it? He decided to give it a try. “She needs medicines. A bit of bog moss would be just the thing.”

    The owl ruffled its feathers, blinked, swiveled his neck to gaze at his mistress before swinging it all the way back to Domnu.

    “What good does it do? I’m glad you asked, my silent friend.” He offered the bird his most affable smile and prayed it understood what he was saying. Jyslin needed that moss.

    249 words

    I don’t know if you’ll read this, but what do I do with your question, when I’m not even sure if I should reply to it at all? I feel like you’ve pierced me on every tender point of my skin, which lies flayed, like something you could bite into.
    I know this is dangerous, but who cares? I do, I care. This is my life and this is my heart. My parents can go to hell, they spend so much time talking about it anyway, it’s like they have firsthand knowledge of what its like.
    You want to know what good this all does, all this sneaking around, hiding behind emails, not being able to hold hands in public like everyone else? The good it does is this: I’ve scraped my heart raw for you. I’ve been slapped, kicked, punched, spit on, made fun of, called the most vicious names and had complete strangers threaten to kill me, all because I love you. Change comes from letting yourself believe what they say about us is true.
    Despite everything, I love you for being yourself. Don’t give up now. Don’t let them win. We have found each other after lifetimes of being apart, don’t let them take it away, I beg you.

    217--inc title
    Carissa Harwood

  7. “Well, she said she didn’t want dead flowers, and she didn’t want anything like chocolate or candy.”

    Bobby looked at the mangled remains of Steve’s mangled garage door. “You could have asked for help.”

    Steve threw his hands up in the air, “But, the instructions said it was easy to install!”

    Bobby walked toward Steve’s garage. He saw where the door’s spring loaded cable was wrapped around several wheels of the door. That clearly happened when the door started going up. The wire had come off track, tangled in the wheels, and as the automatic opener kept trying to open the door, the the door had come apart. After that, the motor had still tried, but the door’s remains wouldn’t budge, and the motor had ripped loose from it’s mountings, tearing a hole in the garage ceiling. The whole mess had landed on Laura’s car.

    “You could have moved the car into the driveway before you installed and tested the door opener.”

    Steve just glared at me. “That wasn’t in the instructions! Besides, what good does it do telling me what I could have done?" He looked at Laura’s car. “I’m toast!”

    I sighed. “Betty will handle Laura. I’ll help you fix this. And you can sleep in our guest room.” I smiled as best I could. “Laura will understand. You really tried.”

    Steve just shook his head and mumbled, “I frickin’ hate Valentine’s day...”

    249 Words

  8. Wabbit Season

    “Be vwery quiet, we’re hunting wabbits,” Trish lisped.

    “What good does it do to go hunting today and where the hell are we going to find a rabbit in the middle of Chicago?” I ask and then stopped talking as a shambling wreck of former humanity swung its rotting face in our direction. Hell, I stopped breathing. Fun fact, even if their ears have rotted off, zombies still have excellent hearing.

    “Trust me,” Trish whispered once the creature shambled off again. She grinned and rubbed her hands together, and I can’t tell if it’s with glee or to ward off frostbite. “It’s clear, let’s go.” I take deep breath and prepare to run like my life depended on it, because it does. We’re all on the “move your fat ass or get eaten,” workout these days.

    When we get there, I kept a lookout while she jimmied the lock. I’m not sure where we are yet because I was too busy watching for zombies to pay attention. Once we get inside, I figured it out fast. The bondage gear was a dead giveaway. I stare at the ball gags and floggers in confusion. “Why are we in a sex shop?”

    Trish giggled and headed to the back of the store, returning with a box that she tossed to me with a smirk. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Lissa. Batteries are by the counter.”

    I turn the box over: it’s a rabbit vibrator. She really did find a rabbit in downtown Chicago.

    249 words

  9. “Did you explain to her? How Spencer kissed you?”
    “What good does it do? She’s gone. She’s never coming back, Ariel.”
    “If you love her you’ll chase after her it’s Valentine’s Day.”
    Ariel watched Jason walk away. She’d loved him for years. Just once she wished he’d look at her the way he looked at Helen instead of as a friend.
    Sometime later she heard, “Ariel?”
    Turning her head Ariel saw Jason march into the room carrying a bouquet of roses and a heart shaped box of chocolates. In her dreams he handed them to her and declared his love. Instead he picked up his phone and sounded like he made a reservation for dinner. Ariel wished for the thousandth time he’d see her not as a friend, but as someone to love.
    “So how did it go?” Ariel asked.
    “It’s over.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “I’m not, I didn’t love Helen. I didn’t even know her.”
    “You didn’t?”
    “No, and I realized that someone close to me was the one. Ariel, will you be my Valentine?”
    “Yes, oh yes,” Ariel cried, as Jason took her in his arms.
    Valentine’s Day would be special this year, she had Jason by her side.
    200 words

  10. Ivan felt a mixture of disappointment and relief as he curried Skip. The big Clydesdale groaned and leaned into the brushstrokes with pleasure, but Ivan’s mind replayed the events from the evening before. He’d watched Lindy Bartholomew, paranormal romance author, retreat from him, never taking his eyes off her until she reached her bungalow. Number 69, how appropriate. Amazement still echoed in his mind as he dropped the currycomb for a stiff brush. She’d withstood the outpouring of his pheromones and saved what little of her soul he would have taken. She hadn’t been nearly as drunk as he’d wanted for his conquest and her refusal to be taken over by his charms had pleased him.

    She’s strong as well as beautiful. The beast within him threw its head back and roared. I want her.

    Skip nosed his hand and Ivan chuckled. “Yes, yes, sorry old friend. I’ve forgotten my place, haven’t I?”

    He returned to scrubbing the big horse and let his mind wander over the lovely woman he’d met. Ivan had watched her sexy, rounded ass saunter away from him and damn near drooled. He’d wanted to pound into her until she moaned with the ecstasy he could give her, gripping her full hips as he thrust.

    Ah, what good does it do to dream of her? She’d only die at my hands. Still he could savor the fantasy. Maybe she’s the one to break the curse of the incubus.

    He growled. “Don’t tempt me with hope, dammit.”

    250 ineligible #WIP500 words

  11. Kitty knocked on Townsend’s door. It opened, a sliver of light illuminated his silhouette.

    “You should not have come.”

    “I brought you these,” she replied, and produced the letters. “Let me in, I need a drink and it won’t be long before I’m missed.”

    The door opened and he snatched the letters. “Where did you get these?”

    “A drink, first.”

    Townsend allowed her to pass and pointed to a cabinet on the far wall.

    She helped herself to a bottle of rum before answering.

    “They brought a couple of rebels into the Provost, these were among their things.” She pulled the cork and took a long swig. “He took them down to the gallows. I imagine they’re swinging by now.”

    “That’s seven this month alone. I’ll tell the Major to find another way.”

    “What good does it do to stop now?” she asked, taking another swallow. “The Marshal will have his quota of blood. They knew the risks if they were caught. We all do.”

    He grabbed her wrist and wrenched the bottle away. “And what of your risk, madam? A warm bed, a quick lay, and a wardrobe a queen would envy? What do you know of risk?”

    She could see he regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.

    “Perhaps a trade? You bed the Marshal and I’ll stay here with your letters.” She licked her lips and reached for the bottle. “Risks come in all forms Mr. Townsend; some just kill more quickly than others.”

    250 words @RevolutionaryVJ

  12. Vanessa dug her fingers into the cool, wet sand, loving the slip and slide of the grains caressing her fingers, and watched as the water rinsed her hand clean. She wished her life could be so simple.

    “Why are you hiding from me?”

    Her body froze, but her heart kicked into high gear. She pushed against the comfort of the shore to stand and face the man she’d love forever.

    “I’m no good for you.” She turned to run, but he stepped in front of her.

    “What good does it do?” He reached his hand out and caressed her cheek. “I’ll always come for you.”

    “Oh, Carlo.” She shook her head and looked away as the tears began to fall.

    He took a step closer, invading her space. “You’re the one I want, Vanessa.” He claimed her lips. “It’s always been you.”

    She pushed, but he pushed back, moving them deeper into the water. The waves shoved against their legs forcing them closer together and she felt her life come back into focus. He was right to find her, he held her heart.

    “Oh, Carlo. I love you.”

    “I know.”

    She giggled and kissed him, finally letting go and letting him in, where he belonged.

    Word count: 205

  13. Rave of the Gods

    Only Dionysus could turn an upscale wine bar into a rave with half naked humans dancing on the tables. Dio, with his waist length red hair pulled into a high ponytail, tugged off his shirt. A flushed, round woman and a stately septuagenarian gentleman couldn’t ignore the buffet of revealed flesh.

    Dio spotted me and I rolled my eyes.

    “Eros, you lusty devil.” He broke free and greeted me with a quick, hard kiss. “You know Zeus still frowns upon us co-hosting revelries. Go back far enough in the histories and we’re still exiled from seven countries.”

    “They were small countries.”

    “Ha! Right you are.” He produced a bottle of wine, taking a long pull before passing it to me.

    “You drink like a frat boy,” I said. I sniffed the vintage and commandeered a glass.

    “And yet I taste every grape, every spice, the hand of Gaia herself. My taste buds are a veritable embarrassment of riches, darling.” He relieved me of the bottle and drained the contents as I sipped from my glass. “Tell me, Eros—what good does it do to ban a god in this godless time? It was different when they worshipped us.”

    “They were far more likely to catch us being naughty then, eh?”

    He grinned and rambled on, fading as a woman in the corner caught my attention.

    Alone. Unaffected by the human circus.

    She didn’t see me—thank Zeus—didn’t see my shock, my moment of realization.

    “I know you,” I whispered.

    250 #WIP500 words

  14. Becky and Jason sat on a park bench in the afternoon sun, eating cupcakes and sharing a soda. She’d gotten her favorite, Red Velvet. Jason had something rich and chocolaty. It was one of her favorite rituals, afternoon sweets with him.

    “I wish you could just see that we would be perfect together,” she said, trying not to let tears fall. It was a conversation they’d had many times before but today it felt more important, more real. Jason was everything she had ever wanted in a man. She couldn’t let him go, no matter how many girlfriends came and went.

    “I could tell you I love you, but what good does it do?” he said before shoving the last bite of cupcake in his mouth. “We both know it would just ruin what we already have.” He could tell she was on the verge of crying. He hated to see her hurting. “Hey, you know I care about you. Can’t that be enough?” He said and turned away.

    Becky reached up to pull his chin toward her so he was looking into her blue eyes. She wiped a bit of frosting off his bottom lip and stuck it in her mouth. “It can never be enough because I love you.”

    He watched as a tear fell down her cheek and felt something inside himself stir. He picked up her hand and kissed it. He sighed. “I love you too.”

    Word count - 240
    N.L. Walsh

  15. “It’s not champagne unless it’s made in Champagne, France.” Ray downed his glass and refilled his and mine.

    “What’s this we’re drinking then?”

    “Sparkling wine.”

    “Well that sounds rather low rent doesn’t it? I think it’s a French conspiracy.”

    “To do what?”

    “Corner the market. Raise the prices. Laugh at us behind our backs.”

    Ray laughed and handed me half of his breadstick. “Paranoid much?”

    “Cynical maybe, but not paranoid.”

    “Yes you are. Don’t deny it.”

    “Fine. What good does it do to argue? You were the one who pointed out that we weren’t drinking champagne but sparkling wine in the first place. Sometimes, Ray, you and I are on two completely different wavelengths, but I love you anyway. On a completely different topic, I bought a new car.” I transferred my baked potato to his plate while he scraped his broccoli onto mine.

    “What’d you get?”

    “A Toyota.”

    His brows knitted. “You should have bought American.”


    “To thwart the Japanese plot to take over the world.”

    I heaved a loud sigh. “Like I said, completely different wavelengths.”

    1. Hey Annonymous, we need a twitter handle or email addy and a word count for you to be considered. :)

    2. Oops sorry. 179 words. @dori_callahan_

  16. Jane was tired and the last thing she needed after dealing with an ass who broke bail to see his girlfriend rather than the wife who was getting money to get him out. Romance at its best.

    She did NOT want to see the Chancellor to the Winter Queen sitting on her couch when she got home. She had no clue where the overpowering smell of roses was coming from either.


    “It can wait. I’m tired. It’s been a long day. The last thing I need to do is your snobbiness. Call me in the morning.”

    “You don’t understand. I need you.” He grabbed hold of her hand and held it tight.

    Jane stared at the fae. He was acting very touchy feely. Which didn’t seem like him at all. He was like the Queen, it was as if he had a sheet of ice between him and all the others and the sense of entitlement that came from the high borne. His eyes were dilated and his face was flush.

    “Have you been drinking?”

    “No, no.” He pulled her hand closer and placed it against his chest. “I didn’t realize how much someone who straddles mortality like you do can be so considerate to a race that isn’t your own. It’s very fascinating how you’ve adjusted.”

    Jane blinked a few times before seeing a familiar head duck into the tree outside the living room.

    “PUCK! I’m going to kill you!”

    His laughter mocked her. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Judicator!”

    250 words


    “So, this is where all the, science, happens,” Dale clenched his teeth, struggling not to say the wrong thing.

    “Yes,” the nerd in the lab coat with comically thick glasses looked up from his microwave burrito.

    The whole place stunk of the empty calories and the social outcast consuming them. Dale imagined top secret science facilities as being more sterile—or at least smelling better than the locker room just after closing at the gym.

    Stomach turning, Dale turned his attention to his shoes, “Look, Bancroft, the last thing I wanted was to come to you about this… But, I love Angie and will do whatever it takes to make her happy.”

    “Trouble in paradise?” Bancroft set his burrito on his desk before leaving its residue on his glasses as he shoved them back into his face.

    “I can’t compete with the rock you gave her!” Dale snapped, fists clenching.

    “Ahh, the attuned diamond,” Bancroft nodded. “I helped convert it to a belly button piercing so her ring finger would be free.”

    “What good does it do? I’ll never find a more perfect diamond in a hundred years, let alone afford it!”

    “So what do you want me to do?”

    “Sell me Angie’s diamond.”

    Dale’s eyes returned to his shoes. Having to come to this so called scientist for something so personal was intolerable, but the twerp’s jazzed up diamond really was perfect.

    Bancroft scowled. “The stones of power are not for sale… But, I suppose if it’s for Angie…”

    250 words

  18. #ThursThreads is now CLOSED. Thank you to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to see you next week. Come back tomorrow to see who won the badges. :)

  19. Thanks for inviting me to judge this special Valentine's Day edition of #ThursThreads. I had a great time reading all of the fabulous entries. xoxo


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