Thursday, August 21, 2014

#ThursThreads - The Challenge That Ties Tales Together - Week 132


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 132 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 132:


Cover artist and erotic romance author, Harris Channing.



And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.
 
The Prompt:

“Take it back.”

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!

24 comments:

  1. ~~~~~

    A full-size oil painting of her Grandfather, with a huge-ass gilt frame?

    “Take it back. This monstrosity? I don’t want to have anything to do with it.”

    “Oh, come on, Jane, It fits perfectly right there in the hallway in front of your bedroom.”

    “No. It is an abomination, always has been, always will be. Take it away, or I’ll take my axe to it. Seriously.”

    “Well, I sure can’t move it on my own.”

    “No worries, I have strength for six when dealing with horrors.”

    Not once since that night, 48 years ago, had he been near her bedroom.

    ~~~~~

    Word count: 100 on the nose
    Twitter handle: @AnnaLund2011

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    Replies
    1. Creepy. Ick. And I like the idea of her having an axe.

      Delete
  2. Duke looked at me over the top of his glasses. “Tepes was a putz. Not entirely his fault, but still. Didn't they tell you anything before you made the road your home again, like my people had to?”

    “I didn't know you were a Gyps-”

    The word hadn't even finished leaving my lips before the back of his hand caught me. His eyes flashed opalescent with fury. “Romani.”

    “Ow, fuck! What? What to the Romans have to do with this?” I took a deep breath, rubbing where he'd struck me.

    “NRomani. You don't use the G-word if you are my friend, you see? And even if you do not see, don't use it. Now, I forgive your ignorance, because I have taught you. Now, forgive me for striking you.” He leaned back in his chair and carefully put his feet up, legs crossed at the ankles.

    I looked into his face, all deep lines and wrinkles, even where the new skin was far paler than what had been abraded away; his eyes were their usual dark brown, with just the faintest flecks of pearl hinting that he was quelling his power. “Yeah, of course. I didn't mean--”

    “Shush. There is no need to take it back. We forgive, we move on. That's something you'll need to get used to; not everyone forgives, and we live too long to carry the burden of every slight.” “But, more important than that, Wasp, we need to be able to forgive ourselves. That... that is much harder.”

    #249 (slightly redacted version of a WIP)
    @etcet

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    Replies
    1. Oooh....the final paragraph is so wise.

      Delete
  3. Something feral flashed in the depths of his eyes. She refused to be intimidated, stepping closer, crowding him and jutting her face to his.

    “Take it back.” She issued the demand through gritted teeth.

    “No.”

    She’d anticipated this would be his response. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.” Good god, did his nostrils flare? Was he…sniffing her?

    “I speak the truth. You want me.”

    “Do not.” Blood laced with adrenaline surged through her body. Fight or flight instincts roared to life. The corner of his mouth quirked into a smirk she wanted to slap off his face.

    His arm snaked around her waist and pulled until she was pressed against his body. All of his body, including the erection jabbing against her stomach. Heat followed that adrenaline rush but she refused to look away.

    “You are mine. Don’t fight me.”

    What the hell? “This is the twenty-first century. I’m not yours.”

    “You will be.”

    She inhaled sharply and her aching breasts collided with his bare chest. His hips rolled and she wanted to match the motion. She stopped her reaction in the nick of time. “Let me go.”

    “Never.”

    “Neanderthal.”

    “No. Wolf.”

    Her heart skipped a couple of beats and she could almost feel her eyes dilate. The fight drained away as the instinct to run took over. She kneed him, escaping into the underbrush.

    “Run. But know you’ll never be free.”

    He was right. He’d hunt her to the ends of the earth..
    ****
    248 words on the current WIP (FINALLY!)

    @SilverJames_

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  4. Bethany swallowed hard and tried not to think of the Major with all those glorious, glistening muscles outlined in wet hair. Good Lord, he's prettier than a group of SEALs on PT. She pretended to ignore how his body flexed as he dried himself off, and she did not remember size and shape of his cock and balls when he emerged from the water.

    No, not at all.

    With his back turned, she could see the scars and marks of his experience, and something about it warmed her heart as well as turned her on more. This man hadn't gotten his body merely being a gym-rat, although she suspected he worked out enough. He'd used his body helping others, defending those who needed him, and fighting what needed to be fought.

    What is wrong with me? I'm not a fan of military men. They're arrogant as hell and rarely come home. She shook her head to clear it of the fogging attraction.

    "Bethany?"

    "What, hmm?" She blinked and tried to figure out what he'd asked.

    "Do you think they left me any clean clothes?"

    "Why would you need more clothes?" She wished she could take it back the moment she said it, and tried to cover with snarkiness. "I mean, isn't part of the military prowess showing off as much of your muscular strength as you can?"

    Mack shook his head and chuckled. "Maybe in our world. But I don't think my bipedal physique would impress those with six limbs."

    250 ineligible #WIP500 words
    @SiobhanMuir

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    Replies
    1. Ha! I like how that winds up. A surprise! :)

      Delete
  5. Alexis stared out the window at the dismal night, a rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. Now that she had heard the diabolical prophecy, she was astonished. She turned from the window, not wanting to see the rain.

    “Take it back,” she said, holding back anguished tears. “You’re a beast, I will not marry you.”

    Gabe stared into her eyes, satisfied with the misery he saw. “You cannot change your destiny, my dear.” His taught face stretched into a demonic grin.

    “No,” she cried, rushing for the door, her sheer pale-green dress flowing behind her. “I have to leave.”

    “Too late for that,” he said, grabbing her wrist.

    He pushed her backward to a plush divan, sitting her down. He bent, filling her with dread as he place a cold kiss on her forehead. Without saying another word, he returned to the door and left. She heard the click of the lock engaging in the dark wooden door. Frantic, she ran to the door. Panic filled her, anticipating her impending doom. Breathlessly, she slumped against the door, sliding down its smooth veneer.

    @ChuckWesJ
    183 words

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    Replies
    1. I'm with her - he doesn't sound like a good guy. Maybe it's the "demonic grin" but yeah.

      Delete
  6. “Take it back.”
    "no you take it back, it's yours!"
    Suzie smiled at the bickering under her casement window as sge thought back to hiding under the cottage window to get away from her sister. Her brother would be up in the tree with a cold bucket of water should either girl climbed up to disturb him! The only bickering that occurred was whether either of them were disturbed in their hideaways. Suzie chuckled to herself as she remembered the puzzled looks on their parent's faces every time a cushion or blanket disappeared. Not even they knew about her den under the window.
    Time passed and Susie found she preferred sitting in the casement to under it! Her parent's, becca and Tim had sat down oneday and agreed that they had outgrown the cottage. Suzie, Sat in her casement den and screamed silently as Dad told them her had bought a lovely house in Morden.
    The family left for Morden one Saturday leaving Suzie behind. Suzie knew she'd never leave the cottage, it was hers. People would pass by muttering ''didn't they leave?'' Susie heard of course but in her bliss she just smiled.
    Suzie glanced out of the window and realised what the voices had been bickering about. They had found her blue cushion and were arguing who'd left it out there and their mum was attempting to soothe matters. Suzie floated through the casement ending the bickering although refilling the garden with shrieks as she reclaimed her property.
    Charley_001

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. So...she's a spirit, then? Sounds like it!

      Delete
    2. She is, there was about another hundred words flowing as I battled with this tale! I like ghostly/spirit tales but I seem to lose something! Practice makes perfect though right?! ;-)
      thankyou for commenting. x

      Delete
  7. “Take it back. You can’t have a pet, Sharon.”
    “It’s a Husky pup and it was left in the woods,” Sharon insisted.
    “That doesn’t look like any Husky pup, I’ve ever seen.”
    “Please mommy?”
    “We’ll talk about it when daddy gets home. Go play.”
    Sharon took the pup into the backyard throwing a stick back and forth. The pup got tired of the stick throwing trying to get the stick away from Sharon, his small sharp teeth pierced her skin, but Sharon said nothing she didn’t want anything to deter her parents from keeping the animal. When her father arrived home the pup was taken back to the forest. Her father claimed it was not a pup, but a wild animal that his mother looked for. Sharon however cried for months for something about this pet had called to her. On Sharon’s eighteenth birthday, she found herself running in the wind answering the call of her wolf. As she entered a clearing she spotted the animal. Its fur had grown into a beautiful copper colour and its striking eyes stared at her. The moon rose and Sharon felt her skin stretch and her bones crunch as they elongated. She felt the animal lick her and nuzzle her as the intense pain seemed to go on and on rolling in waves, ending abruptly. Wordless he communicated to her, telling her he had chosen his mate well. Sharon’s new mouth turned into a smile, she now had her pet and he, his.
    250 words
    @SweetSheil

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    Replies
    1. Patience is rewarded sweetly, I like it x

      Delete
    2. Ohhh! I like this. I'd love to read more. :)

      Delete
  8. "Take it back."

    "But dad--!"

    "You're too young for such a skimpy bikini."

    Grandma's deck vibrated as I stomped my foot. "I can't. I'm wearing it. Besides, if I'm old enough to have a girlfriend—"

    That was an interesting shade of red on dad's face. "Excuse me?"

    "Never mind that."

    "Girlfriend?"

    "Yes. Girlfriend. You know, someone whom I kiss and—"

    Dad held up his hand. "I don't need the details. You're not old enough to date and you're certainly not old enough for that half-inch of fabric you call a swimsuit. Now, take it back."

    I planted my hands on my hips, and smirked. Dad's fists clenched. He used to scare me when he was angry but I'd been in enough trouble with him that it didn't faze me anymore.

    "Pricilla June Mortensen, you are grounded for a week!"

    I dove into the pool. When I surfaced, my other dad was on the deck, a double whammy. I swallowed the rock in my throat. My other dad's mouth hung open, his eyes bulged. What? I look good.

    "Take it back."

    Ugh. I guess they never wore anything their parents didn't like? Wringing the water from my hair, I pulled myself out of the pool.

    "No. You can't return swimsuits once they've been worn. Now, I'm going to the beach with Alissa. I'll be back later tonight."

    I ducked dad's reach and bolted for Alissa's house. The sooner I get out the better.

    @Aightball
    245 words

    ReplyDelete
  9. Wrench shifted on the chair, propping a foot up on the table.
    Reagan frowned at him. “Put your foot down.”
    A black brow quirked and he shrugged, planting the offending foot on the floor before reaching for the pack of cigarettes on the table.
    “No smoking either.”
    Wrench sat there, running his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip before scowling at her. “You have all sorts of rules here.”
    “It’s my grandfather’s house. I make the rules. Don’t like it, take your bloody clothing and leave.”
    He gave a snort before stretching, pausing to put a hand on the bandage against his skin. “Whatever. You probably won’t kick me out, firebug. You really don’t have the balls.”
    Her eye twitched. “Excuse me?”
    “You heard me. You’re a pussy. Why else would you be helping out on jobs that you’re seriously outclassed in? You should find a little house to hide in, firebug.”
    “Shut up.” Her hands curled into fists.
    He smirked, throwing her a glance, dark eyes daring her. “Make me, firebug.”
    “Stop calling me that!”
    Wrench stood up, giving a long stretch despite the wound, caramel skin rippling over a lean frame. “Make me. You’re a pussy. Your grandfather is probably a pussy too. Home schooling so you didn’t face the big bad brats in high school instead of kicking their asses? Pft. Loser.”
    “Take it back.”
    “what?” He glanced at her.
    Her skin heated up as she rushed over and shoved him. “TAKE IT BACK!”

    249 words
    @solimond

    ReplyDelete
  10. Sarah hid an involuntary smile behind the fall of straight, soot-black hair as she stepped out of the way of the men.

    One of them had skin the color of her favorite coffee. He positioned himself in her bedroom. “You want it here, ma’am?”

    She nodded. “That’ll be perfect, thank you.”

    His cohort—a Nordic god, she thought—grinned and flexed his biceps a little as he settled himself at the headboard. “And how’s this? Will it work for you?”

    She approached the bed slowly, trailing her fingertips over the footboard until she reached the bedpost closest to the Nordic fellow. She smiled at his darker counterpart. Sweat stood out on his forehead, but he straightened his back a little and turned his body so that she got an improved view. “You paid for the full monty, ma’am, so…”

    “Jay!” The blond snorted and even blushed a little, the color rushing up from his collar to his cheeks. “We’re on the job, man.”

    “It’s okay, really,” Sarah said, leaning forward and testing the mattress with outspread fingers. “I have absolutely no complaints about the service, honest.”

    She eyed them both in turn and bit her lip.

    “Was there anything else?” Jay asked, easing his way around the end of the bed.

    She rubbed the back of her neck with one hand, her body moving with conscious sinuosity. “I’m afraid so. See, I ordered the bed in walnut and this is cherry. You’re going to have to take it back.”
    ===
    Word count: 250
    Sandi Layne
    @sandyquill

    ReplyDelete
  11. Huge biceps rippled when the stout young man flexed his hands. Each breath expanded a magnificent chest that had obviously been worked on for years. His waist slimmed into rock-hard abs emerging as if carved into his youthful, supple flesh.
    Dark eyes, smooth cheekbones and a chiseled square jaw completed the glorious male specimen. Garbed in nothing save a plain black sash around his gorgeous waist, he was the very model of a perfect man.
    “Take it back.”
    The Empress’ words brooked no delay, or discussion.
    Her bent, aged servant bowed in compliance, leading the Empress’ companion-for-the-evening out of her bedchamber.
    She was in the mood for something more, exotic.
    Empress Mian was tired of compliant males and superficial females, though she knew not what it was she really craved.
    Until her night-servant walked in the room. A new girl, someone she’d never seen before. Dressed in the black stockings, G-string and dark corset of all her housemaids, this new girl stirred something within the Empress she’d never felt before.
    Drinking in the young woman’s voluptuous form, Empress Mian was stunned into momentary silence.
    “Who are you?” Mian asked at last.
    Seemingly shy at first, the young maid set down the tray she was carrying and turned to face the Empress.
    “Icie”. She said in a tempting voice.
    For a reason the Empress never understood, the name sent shivers down her spine.
    “Come here, Icie.” She ordered.
    “No.” The young woman responded quietly, evenly. “You come here.”
    And she did.

    ReplyDelete
  12. I walked in from the garage, smiling at Jim as he came down the stairs. His green eyes hadn’t lit up like they used to since he’d moved in with me last week. So I thought I’d try and lift his spirits with a present.

    “What is that?” He asked, furrowing his dark brow at the tissue-wrapped object in my hands.

    “It’s a housewarming gift.” I removed the tissue to reveal an antique lamp. “For us.”

    I put the lamp on the end table near our leather sofa. It was hand-painted and in excellent condition. It looked divine.

    Jim walked over to stand near me as he studied the lamp. “Take it back,” he said finally, covering his mouth as he broke into tears.

    “Hey…” I gathered him in my arms, rubbing his shoulders. “If it’s not something you like….”

    He mumbled something unintelligible through his sobs and I held him tighter, attempting to calm him down before having a conversation. “Talk to me,” I said after wiping away his tears with my thumb.

    “I’m having a much harder time than I thought I would with….this,” he gestured about the room.

    “My house?” I swallowed. “Or me?”

    “No, lover. No.” He held both of my hands. “It’s what moving in together means…for me. I’m going to need some time to adjust before you start buying US such lovely things.”

    I relaxed a bit . “You like the lamp?”

    “You know you have exquisite taste.”

    I smiled. “No rush then.”

    249 words
    Hunter Frost
    @HunterFrostMM

    ReplyDelete
  13. #ThursThreads is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to see you next week. :)

    ReplyDelete

Comments are on moderation, so they'll become visible once I've read them. Words, words, words. I love them. Have you a few to lend?

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