Avery is on a roll! Anson and Indy are back for the next installment in their story. Remember, this is flash fiction so the story is limited in length—500 to 1000 words.
Please Note: this post may not be suitable for readers under the age of 18. Parts could be considered NSFW. You’ve been warned!
Also, be sure to check out the stories from the other Wednesday Briefers. The links are below.
Quiet. No more moaning. No more sucking sounds. Normally, Anson wasn’t all about cock blocking—but in this case, it needed to be done. There was a part of him that wondered…who was pitching and who was catching?
The client’s son wasn’t a large man, but he was cut—the private gym on the client’s estate was obviously the son’s domain. The information gleaned from their client indicated the son would come willingly. He would likely have some choice words for Anson and Indy, but he wouldn’t put up a fight. His boyfriend, on the other hand, would be the one to watch.
Frantic whispers reached his ears, the words indistinguishable. Anson imagined them scrambling to the far side of the tent while deciding what to do.
Then, once again, silence reigned. Apparently the lovers decided to make like they were invisible. The whole nothing-to-see-here routine. Too bad that wasn’t going to work. Anson and Indy would never fall for such a lame ploy.
Glancing at Indy, he noted his partner’s frown. Indy raised his hands in a what-the-hell motion. He wasn’t used to his plans not working immediately. Anson wished the occupants would make a mad dash for the safety of their vehicle, not cower behind the thin nylon wall. He shrugged in response to Indy. They’d have to wait and see what happened. Patience wasn’t an issue for Anson. While he didn’t want to wait all day all snag his target, he could do it if he had to.
Avery is back to writing—look out!! This time she’s changing things up. Think adventure/suspense with a hint of romance. Don’t worry, romance will be a big part of a larger story that is to come. Right now, she’s writing some flash fiction to introduce you to some hottie guys, three to be exact.
If you’ll recall, the Wednesday Briefiers are a flash fiction group, who limit the length of their stories. They need to fit in the 500-1,000 word range and include the use of a writing prompt.
The prompt Avery chose for this story was three words…beer, bonfire, and blow job (and you were worried it wouldn’t be smexy!). *wink*
Be sure to check out the stories of the other briefers. Links to their flashes are posted below. For now, please enjoy the first installment of Avery’s story!
Anson gripped the oh shit handle above his door and braced his left hand on the dash. This was going to be a bad one. The potholes across the so-called road were large enough to swallow a MAC truck. Their beast of a Toyota didn’t stand a chance.
As his head banged the roof, Anson shot Indy a death glare. “Man, take it easy! We have to get there and get out in one piece. And we sure as hell aren’t walking!”
Indy stole a quick glance at his passenger. “Come on, dude! Don’t you trust me?”
Anson wanted to wipe the lingering smirk right off Indy’s face. Granted, the guy drove race cars for a hobby, but this was business. They weren’t going to get paid if they failed to keep the client’s son from getting killed—and not by mountain lions or bears.
I’m back! It’s 2019, and I’m trying to be better about writing and blogging (among other things). Avery has a new story idea for an urban fantasy tale set in New Orleans in 2025.
Just as a refresher, Wednesday Briefs are short pieces–500 to 1000 words. They also have to include a writing prompt. The prompts for this story include: the Big Easy (in the title), a character playing the piano, and a beignet. I was lucky I had so many prompts from which to choose!
Be sure to see the list of other authors at the bottom of the page! There is more free reading to be had!!
But, for now…
Ghostly Blues in the Big Easy
The lights of the French Quarter blurred as we sped down Bourbon Street. Nearly 2:30 a.m.—most people were either passed out or sleeping. Not Damien and me, though. My vintage Ford pick-up was out of commission, so Damien was stuck chauffeuring me to and from work. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind. Well, not too much.
Lost in thought, I nearly missed the shimmer of an apparition which materialized in front of Damien’s sleek Mercedes.
“Stop!” I shrieked, throwing my left arm protectively toward Damien.
Damien stomped on the brakes, and I lurched forward. The sedan slid to a squealing halt on the wet pavement.
It’s Wednesday, and we all know that means it’s time for some flash fiction! Woohoo!
This was another “free” week so Avery didn’t have to worry about including a prompt. Her story meets the 500-1000 word count. So, good there. Last but not least, be sure to check out flash fiction pieces from other Wednesday Brief authors. Their links are at the bottom of the page.
Now, time for Part II of Two Girls and Some Ghouls
Last week, Private Mansfield politely asked if I could find out what became of his wife and young son after the war. I sensed the emotion behind his strong façade and gave him props for not shedding any ghost tears. Using the dates and locations he provided, I thought I might have a chance at finding what had become of his family. Needless to say, it didn’t take much convincing for me to help. His story had touched an unexpected nerve. He and his wife were newlyweds when he left his home outside of Staunton to fight for Virginia. They’d quickly married once she learned she was pregnant—bet that was a big oops back in the 1860s! Thankfully, the baby had been born healthy and had his mother’s beautiful blue eyes. I could tell Private Mansfield thought the world of his son, and not being able to hug and kiss him one last time before he passed was tearing him apart.
I promised Private Mansfield I’d see what I could do. I spent my two days off scouring library archives and old newspapers as well as talking with a number of knowledgeable ladies at historical societies all up and down the Shenandoah Valley. Late in the second day, I finally found the information I had been looking for. I hesitated to tell him all I had learned. While there was some good news, some of the family’s history was definitely bad. Continue reading “Wednesday Briefs: More Girls & Ghouls”
It’s that time of the week . . . Wednesday Briefers time! Are you ready for some flash fiction? I sure hope so!
This is a new story start for Avery. It’s F-F paranormal with some romance. There weren’t any prompts this week so it’s a freebie! Remember, the stories have to be between 500 and 1,000 words. This is just a start for this story so you’ll have to come back next week to read the next installment!
Two Girls and Some Ghouls
The narrow parking space at the end of the lot was calling my name, so I swung the Jeep Wrangler into position and parked as far away from the overhead security light as possible. Getting a ticket for parking in the Battlefield’s Visitor Center lot after dark was not on my agenda. I looked through the windshield. The sun had already dipped below the mountains in the distance. The violet purples of twilight were fading to deep midnight blues. Before long, the black sky would be filled with pinpoints of white starlight.
My Jeep was filled with all the tension of a Mexican stand-off. My girlfriend had wanted to see me work—or so she said—but now that we were here . . . her crossed arms and stiff posture said otherwise. Not one to beat around the proverbial bush, I sliced through the tension with blunt honesty. “Steph, it’s fine. You don’t want to be here. No problem.” I pulled the keys from the ignition and held them out to her. “Take my keys, grab a cup of coffee, and meet me back here. I promise I won’t be angry with you.” Disappointed, sure, but I wasn’t going to share that with her. Continue reading “Flash Fiction: Two Girls and Some Ghouls”
Welcome to another edition of Wednesday Briefs! This week, I wanted to do something different. I wanted to write a speculative fiction piece. I think I managed it, but you’ll have to let me know in the comments. The piece is under 1000 words so it meets the flashing criteria. It’s also set somewhere I’ve visited, making it extra-special to write. I hope you enjoy it!!
Fontana of Mischief
Denise L. Wyant
I peered out the car’s windshield, anxious for my first view of the Fontana Wellness Center and the surrounding lake.
“I can’t wait to try the mineral baths,” Julie, my bestie, exclaimed. “No water’s too hot for me!”
Darcy and I laughed. Iceland was known for its geothermal springs and hot pots—what we know in the States as hot tubs—and I was pretty sure they’d be a lot toastier than the ones back home.
Feeling mischievous, I turned, facing Darcy in the backseat. “Are there rocks surrounding Fontana? If so, maybe we’ll see some elves.” I winked, knowing anything supernatural freaked out my former college roommate.
“Don’t go messing with the elves, Merrill,” she retorted. “Our guide this morning warned us about them. All the bad things that have happened to people and machines when they try to build roads through big rocks.”
It’s another flash in Avery’s Civil War series. Are you ready for more Henry and Emory? This week’s prompt was to use the words deer, spice, and bedroom in the story. Avery fit them all in nicely.
I hope you enjoy the next chapter in this series! Oh, a quick note before you start reading… this piece is borderline NSFW and is appropriate for those 16 and over.
Just out of Reach
Another loud crash. This one closer. Okay, not musket fire. Maybe not human. He wouldn’t bet on the human part, though. Henry met Emory’s eyes. “Do you think it’s soldiers?” he whispered. He hoped speaking the words wouldn’t make them true.
Emory shrugged. “Suppose it’s possible. But most regiments make a lot of noise when they march. Skirmishers not as much.”
Henry knelt, facing Emory. “Well, we shouldn’t wait to find out. Let’s get moving.”
Three deer—two does and one fawn—barreled through the clearing, running east. The trio never slowed their pace as they passed the two men.
“What’s got them so spooked?” Emory muttered, using his rifle as a cane.
This week, Avery has continued the Civil War story (part 2). The prompt she used was “to have gunshots in your story.” She also used part of the another prompt. See if you notice sleep and bandage in the story.
I hope you enjoy the story! When your done, be sure to check out the links at the bottom.
Angel of Mercy
Henry left the injured soldier resting against the tree. He wanted to turn, look back at Emory, but didn’t want to appear desperate. Focus on the man’s health and well-being, not his physical attributes.
Henry jogged the last hundred yards to his farmhouse. Taking the stairs two at a time, he reached the armoire in the hallway outside his bedroom. He pushed aside an extra quilt to locate his first aid supplies, and grabbed some linen fabric strips. These would suffice as bandages. He then took an unopened jar of salve off the shelf. He’d been lucky of late—no serious farming injuries. He paused to think . . . when had the last one been? That’s right. On that unseasonably warm day this past March. He’d been working to repair damage to the barn from a hard snowstorm. The saw jumped, knocked him off balance, shredding part of his left forearm. He winced recalling the blood. He still had deep scars from the incident. Enough reminiscing, Henry! Get back on track!
He needed a bag to carry these supplies. Probably wouldn’t hurt to take a knife along. Henry would have to expose the wound before he could treat it. Soap, too, to clean the wound.
Upon returning to the mudroom off the porch, he located a canvas bag. Perfect! He added a knife and a bar of soap to his supplies. As an afterthought, he took two ripe peaches from the bowl on his kitchen table. Emory might enjoy them. The crop had been very juicy this summer. Continue reading “Wednesday Briefs: Angel of Mercy”
Okay, I admit, I’m a day late for the Fourth of July. Regardless, I wanted to write a flash that would coincide with the Fourth and with the Civil War Battle of Gettysburg. The prompt that I used for my story this week was “have a Civil War soldier in your story.” Remember, too, I was limited to 500-1000 words so there will be more to come. I hope you like the guys and the story!
Friend or Foe?
Last week of June, 1863
Henry trudged down to the stream. Two empty buckets dangled from his calloused fingers. These hot, humid summer days would be the death of him. Despite the weather, chores on his farmette didn’t cease.
He crossed the last bit of farmland, taking a well-worn path through the trees to the stream. As he entered the shade, he breathed a sigh of relief. Henry dropped the buckets before he plopped on the ground. He shucked his shoes and socks then rolled up his pant legs. Sliding closer to the stream, he dangled his feet in the cool water. Ah, heaven!
Closing his eyes, Henry lay back on the cool ground, his feet lazily kicking the cool water. He crossed his arms comfortably over his stomach. A short nap was in order. Mable and Marshall, his two horses, would survive until he returned with fresh water for their trough.
Sleep had nearly overtaken him when a rustling in the bushes startled him awake. Bolting upright, Henry jumped to his feet and waited. The noise came again, louder this time. The sound had come from off to his left. Henry tried to calm his racing heart. This was his land, after all, and whoever was out there was trespassing. “Announce yourself! Who’s there?”
His surprisingly forceful command was met by silence. Henry took a couple of steps toward the shrubs that lined the stream bank. A great crash broke the stillness, followed by muffled curses. “Gosh dern rocks! What’s with all these here briars?” Continue reading “A Holiday Wednesday Briefs”
It’s Wednesday Briefs time and another look into quaint little Blue Crab Cove, Maryland. This time I used “tornado” as a prompt for the story. And yes, it falls nicely within the word count.
I hope you enjoy Officer Lindsey Anderson’s latest adventure!
Denise L. Wyant
Lighting cracked like a ringmaster’s whip, the strike much too close to my house. I couldn’t help but jump as the lights flickered. This was going to be a miserable evening for anything, but especially work. The rain pounded down in dense sheets. I knew I’d be drenched before I even got into my police car. My poor orange tabby, Murph, was hiding under my bed, wedged between boxes. That cat had the best ears of any feline I’d ever had. He ran for shelter at the first hint of a thunderstorm. With the way today’s storm raged outside, I’d rather be in hiding, too. At least I didn’t have to worry about a tornado. We didn’t get too many of them in Maryland.
Suck it up, Anderson. Police work—and crime—don’t stop just because of a bad storm. And, unfortunately, my sergeant wanted to meet with me promptly at three. No dilly-dallying around the house for me. Not today. Continue reading “Wednesday Briefs – The Newcomers”