Week 155 of #ThursThreads had some great tales. I'm honored to see all of the returning writers and read your stories. It was so nice to see so many of you this week and new folks. Welcome! Thank you for coming back again and again to write and for helping me celebrate these years of flash. Great thanks to Lucy Felthouse for judging this week. Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on FB to keep up with news, etc.
And be sure to tune in next week because we have our Third Anniversary Celebration! That's right, #ThursThreads turns THREE!! There will be prizes so you should definitely visit the blog next week.
- Silver James | @SilverJames_
- Charley Emma | @lindorfan
- Kelly Heinen | @Aightball
- Siobhan Muir | @SiobhanMuir
- Sheilagh Lee | @SweetSheil
- Cate Derham | @Cate_Derham
- Bill Engleson | @billmelaterplea
- Nellie Batz | @solimond
- Josh Peters | @joshbgosh
Cate Derham | @Cate_DerhamLucy says: I found this story intriguing and well-written, and while it leaves lots of questions unanswered, I very much liked the sense of fun thrown in to what sounds like it could be a very serious situation.
Bill Engleson | @billmelaterpleaLucy says: this was a very poignant and dramatic tale, which made me very interested to know just what had driven these people to such sad extremes.
Kelly Heinen| @Aightball
Lucy says: I really liked the sense of fun in this story—this was a very sexy way of making the characters even!
Week 155 Winner
Lucy says: the writing was super-tight, intriguing, and kept me on the edge of my seat. It really pulled me in, I’d definitely like to know what happens next with these characters and their tough-sounding situation!
Gemma looked so damn lost it almost cracked his stony facade. Luc couldn’t go to her, couldn’t touch her. Club business first, bloody business. Once finished, he’d touch her. Explain. There’d be blood on his hands but hell, his hands had been red his entire life. He lived, his mother died, and his old man never let him forget it. What was the bloodstain of one more life—a guilty one—on his soul?
Luc tilted his head toward the room where the Nightriders held church. Dancer and Tinker dragged the unconscious Hell Dog through the doors. The rest of the brothers followed them. He paused, turned to study Gemma. “Go home, babe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He didn’t expect her rebellion. “You need to leave, Gemma.”
Now it was his turn. “No.”
She marched up and poked his chest. “Do you think I’d cut and run? I know what will happen in that room.”
Not that room. Judgment only there. Downstairs, in the basement. They’d execute the asshole there. Church wouldn’t be defiled by enemy blood. “Go home, Gemma.”
Waving a negligent hand at the other women, she snarled at him. “Are you sending them home?” She read his answer in his expression. “If they stay, I stay.”
Fuck. Which is what the Riders would want to do after this night’s work was done. He couldn’t send them away. “Suit yourself. There’ll be blood on my hands when I come.”
“That makes us even.”
Congratulations ELEVEN TIME WINNER Silver, Cate, Bill, and Kelly! 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, Tsu.co, shiny mirrors, Morse Code, and signal flags. Check out all the stories here. Thanks for stopping by and happy reading! :)