“Wake Me Up”

 

once upon a time

This month’s song we’re basing our flash fiction on is Wake Me up by Avicii. I’d hear this song before, but didn’t know the name or the artist. Sadly, I also found out he died, which is a true tragedy.  If you’re interested to hear the song, here it is:

This piece is the beginning of a book I’m writing. It’s not Entangled, but one I pull out and work on when I’m stressed at work. *shhhhh* Don’t tell. As soon as I heard this song, I instantly thought of Tessa and her situation. Hope you all enjoy!

 

She stared at the two small lines in confusion. It wasn’t possible. Couldn’t be. And, yet, here was the evidence. Again. She looked around the bathroom at all the other little sticks and every one said the same thing. She was pregnant.

Feeling light-headed, Tessa put her head between her knees and concentrated on breathing. Just breathing. As she did, her mind whirled. How? When? She was fairly confident if she’d been sexually active she would have known. Sex wasn’t something a girl forgot, even shitty sex. Tessa knew, with certainty, she hadn’t had sex. Ever. In fact, she’d purchased the first pregnancy test as a joke. Sort of. She knew she couldn’t be pregnant but wanted to be able to tell the doctor’s office that she’d taken one, so they could get down to figuring out what was wrong.

Eleven tests later, she knew. Pregnant.

Tessa sat up trying to figure out when her last period had been. June? July? Shaking her head, she went out to her bedroom and dug in her purse for the organizer that went everywhere with her. Her friend teased her for writing down every single event, no matter how trivial, on the pages, but she’d never missed an appointment, birthday or celebration. Tessa was organized. Scarily so, her best friend Kenyatta had declared.

Flipping backwards, she studied each week until she found her last period. It was a little over two months ago. Two months. How had she missed it? Okay, yeah it wasn’t hard since she was no longer on the pill, per her doctor’s instructions, and her period was hit and miss at best. So, once again, the question went back to how.

Divine intervention? She almost burst out laughing at that. She couldn’t imagine any god looking down and thinking she’d be a perfect mother. Okay, maybe Loki. Hey, if it was Tom Hiddleston she might think about it. Since that wasn’t possible, at least she highly doubted it, something had to have happened. What though?

“Tessa?”

She started and looked up to find Kenyatta standing at her bedroom door. Glancing at the clock, she realized it was well after five. She’d gotten nothing done and the day was almost over. Okay, she’d taken eleven pregnancy tests and came to the realization she was pregnant, but beyond that nothing else.

“Tessa? What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m pregnant.”

The words hung in the air. Hearing them said out loud, Tessa’s palms started sweating and her heart pounding. She was having trouble swallowing and starting to sweat. A lot. Freaking out. She was freaking out. She sat on her bed and once again, put her head between her knees and concentrated on breathing. Yep, passing out would be bad. She couldn’t pass out.

“You’re what?”

Her best friend’s voice sounds as though it were coming through a tube. Since, Tess knew that couldn’t really be happening, she continued to concentrate on breathing. Can’t pass out, she kept repeating. Wouldn’t help anything if she did.

A cool cloth covered her neck and an arm hugged her tight. Yep, no matter what, she could always count on her best friend. Neither had much family, or at least family they claimed. On top of that, they were both smart. Really smart. Like genius level, though Tessa didn’t feel like such a genius right now. But, on the first day of freshman year of college, they decided to be each other’s family. And, it had stuck. Now, nearly seven years later, Tessa knew she had someone she could count on one hundred percent.

Kenyatta pulled Tessa to sit up and put her arm around her.

“Okay, now, tell me again what’s going on.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“I saw all the tests in your bathroom.”

“Yep, and they all came out positive.”

“How? And don’t be a smart ass. I know you haven’t been dating and, unless you had a booty call that I don’t know about, you aren’t seeing anyone.”

“Nope, no booty calls.” Tessa agreed. “I, truly, have no clue. Now isn’t that something? I’m twenty-three and have no idea how I’m pregnant. I just know all the tests say I am.”

“Why did you even think you were in the first place?” she asked.

Tessa shrugged. “I’m not sure. I started getting sick, my breasts are tender, of course no period, and I’m really tired. And, I just feel different. Does that make sense?” At her best friend’s nod, she went on. “Okay, so I went onto one of those doctor websites—”

Kenyatta rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Tessa, what have I told you about that? Did I not forbid you to go on any of those? You know you always think you have the plague or some weird disease that you couldn’t have in a million years.”

“Not every time,” she argued. “The one time I diagnosed myself with pneumonia with it.”

Kenyatta stared at her and Tessa huffed out a breath.

“Whatever, so I went on and it said I might be pregnant. I wanted to rule that impossibility out, but it didn’t. I failed the pregnancy test.”

“Yeah, I saw, like eight times.”

“Eleven. I took eleven of them. I would have taken twelve, but I don’t think I have any pee left in me.”

Her best friend nodded. “Okay, so we’re ruling out divine interference.”

“Yeah, I already came to that conclusion.”

The two women looked at one another and smiled. It was so awesome to have someone who understood her. No matter what.

 

Bronwyn    Siobhan

An Image in the Mirror

flash header

february

I really like our flash fiction picture for February. It took me a bit to come up with a story, but one it hit I was off and running. Hope you like it.

Sophia stared at herself in the mirror. She saw a woman with cool eyes and serene features, but that wasn’t the reality. The reality was she was scared shitless. Who wouldn’t be when her parents were going to sell her to the highest bidder? Oh, no one called it that, of course. They were too classy to call the “coming out” ball an auction, but that’s what it was. Women, girls really, were paraded around for the wealthy Coadjutors to view and, if one was to his liking, he approached her parents or guardians to work out a deal.

Sophia knew her parents would hold out for a large payment since she was a virgin. It wasn’t a secret either since it said so right in the catalog that was handed out to each Coadjutor as he entered the enormous ballroom. If she could, Sophia would run away, but there wasn’t anyplace to go. Her parents owned her until they sold her to the highest bidder.

Closing her eyes, she breathed in and out of her nose, trying to get her pounding heart under control. It really wasn’t any use though since she was scared. Okay, she was terrified and deep breathing wasn’t going to fix that.

“What are you doing?” her mother whispered angrily in her ear. “Turn around and smile.”

Sophia looked at the woman who had given birth to her and felt nothing but contempt. From the moment she could understand anything, this woman had explained that she was a commodity. They were raising her to elevate themselves. That was it. So, they’d put money into her. Giving her dance and voice lessons, teaching her comportment all so that she could be sold into wealth and power.

Pinching the underside of her arm, hard, her mother yanked Sophia across the room to where her father waited. He stood next to a man older than he was and she crossed her fingers that they were just friends.

“Ah good,” her father said, with a smile. “This is our daughter, Sophia. She is only twenty-two and a virgin, so her power is untapped and ripe.”

Sophia forced herself to stand perfectly still because, she knew, if she moved at all, she would run. Run and never stop.

The man she didn’t know looked her up and down. “I will need to check. I cannot take your word that she’s a virgin. My Daimon would not be pleased if we were to offer for her then found out she’d already been taken.”

“Of course,” her father said, “I understand. I’ve already reserved a room.”

Before Sophia could react, her mother and father had her by the arms and were dragging her into a small room that held a shelf bolted to the wall and a chair.

“Don’t give him any problem, girl,” her father said and backed out the door.

The stranger gripped her chin in his large hand and tilted her face up. Turning her head left and right he studied her.

“You’re pretty enough,” he pronounced. “Now pull your dress up and sit on the table.”

“Excuse me?” she finally forced out.

“I need to check to see if you’re a virgin. Get on the table and spread your legs.”

Sophia stared at him. “Have you lost your mind? You are not going to touch me.”

He smiled. “Oh, I like a fighter. Yes, this will be quite good.”

He grabbed her and wrapped an arm around her waist and he tried to shove a hand up her dress. Sophia fought, but could feel his hand run along her leg. He began to pant and rub himself against her so she tried to kick out at him.

“That’s right,” he said, “yeah, squirm around and fight.”

Sophia held back a sob as she fought harder, then he released her as she staggered forward. Spinning, she found a man she didn’t know holding a knife to her assailant’s throat.

“Doesn’t look like she wants your hands on her,” the new man said conversationally.

“I don’t,” Sophia said.

“So, love, what do you want me to do to him?”

Without hesitating Sophia stepped forward, raised her dress and kicked the man who attempted to assault her right between the legs. Crying out, he dropped to the floor and cradled his genitals.

The unknown man smiled and bowed. “Well, I guess that fixed him. I’m Raiden.”

“Sophia,” she said and curtseyed.

He held out a hand. “Come, let’s get out of here.”

Smiling, she took his hand figuring anywhere was better than where she was.

 

Jessica     Bronwyn   Kayleigh

January 2019 Brain Dump

brain dump

I have so many thing on my mind lately. The state of the world, politics, why is high fashion so weird . . .my thoughts are endless. But let me share just some of what’s on my mind.

If you know anything about me, you know that I’m a crafting crazy. I always say I’m a Jill of all trades, but Mistress of none. So, I knit, embroider, cross stitch, make jewelry, make my own spa stuff, help Sis when she messes with her miniature projects. Now, I’ve decided I want to teach myself to water color. Yeah, I know, but it’s just something I feel I need to do. I’m sure I’ll be crap at it, but I don’t care.

I’ve labeled this year the Year of Self-Care and I downloaded the coolest app called Stop Breathe Think and I love it. It’s meditation, but more than that. It has a journaling section and it walks you through yoga and falling asleep. It’s good stuff.

I’ve also decided to try and teach myself Spanish or reteach myself. I have this app called Duolingo and it’s really good. The lessons are super short and I like it too.

Why is it when you need to work a cat will insist on being cradled like a baby, but when you’re free the cat is nowhere to be found?

Why are the stories in the news always bad? Couldn’t we maybe have 1 good story to every 2 bad?

I still don’t understand how people can back the current president. The man is a liar. He lies so much I expect his pants to just burst into flames at any moment. If they did, that would be really funny.

Why do some people think that if the person in front of them stops at a stop sign they don’t have to stop for it? Are they special? Do they not see it? Do they not understand what STOP actually means?

Cold weather is stupid. That’s all. It’s just stupid. Once the holidays are over the weather needs to be sunny and 65.

If I won the lottery, I wouldn’t stay at my day job. Even though I like my day job, yeah, I’d be so done.

Wow, I think that’s about all for me. If you want to share a random thought, you are more than welcome to jot one in the comment section.

Jessica    Bronwyn     Kris

Best & Worst: Sex Scenes

Best & Worst

Sex Scenes. The bane of my existence. I think actually sitting down to write one was what stopped me from finishing a book to begin with. I knew what I wanted to have happen, but finding the words to describe it  . . . yeah, that was the issue.

You have to understand, I started reading romance during the seventies where the prose were incredibly purple, the heroine was always stupid and a virgin and the “hero” was older (very much older) and the “love” scene very much resembled a rape. Ahhhhh, the good old days. NOT!!

So, to say that I have tons of examples of the worst of sex scenes is to put it mildly. Bless my mama, she had no clue to the content of what I was reading. I think I read my first “romance” novel at 11. In fact, I had just turned 11. The first book I read was called Savage Eden and then I followed it up with The Passionate Savage. Now I look back, they were not good, but from these books I decided that I could do better. So, something came from it. Now saying all that:

Worst Sex Scenes

There are a few things that make sex scenes bad, for me. First, if there’s no real context. For instance, they meet and ten pages later they’re going at it and declaring their love. Ummm, no, sex DOES NOT equal love. Next, if the sex scenes uses phrases such as “dell of love” or “sword of love” . . . NOPE! Also, if the couple is tossed up to pinnacles or sucked into vortexes  another NOPE! Another nope is no real connection between the couple. Like they’re having sex and it could be with anyone. Finally, the worst is when an author uses BDSM, but knows nothing about it or the lifestyle. For Goddess sake, do some damn research.

Best Sex Scenes

I love sex scenes that are fun and funny. For instance, Shelly Laurenston is awesome at making the scenes intense as well as hilarious. The best scenes add to the story. Sex Scenes, done well, make a reader understand why the couple is together or, why they should be together. They also allow the hero/heroine, and the reader,  to see vulnerability, usually in the male, when no one else does. The best scenes are also hot, hot, hot!

tenor

I think Nalini Singh does it really well. I especially love her scenes between Dimitri and Honor in Archangel’s Blade. Woweee!! And then there’s one of my new favorite books Rewritten by the amazing Bronwyn Green. Wowzer!! Angus is so fucking hot. The sex scenes between him and Eliza are amazing. Beyond that though, you can feel how connected these two people are.

And, there you have it. My takes on what makes the best and the worst sex scenes. Now go and check out what Jessica and Bronwyn have to say on the subject.

 

 

Top 10 List for April

04-Top 10_ Things I Want Accomplished 10 Years from Now

Welcome to the top 10 list for April. As always, this list is in no particular order and, it could be, there won’t even be 10. Let’s get started and see how this goes.

1. I would, at least, have published another book by then. *eye roll* And, yes, this was a dig at myself for not getting my ass in gear, but seriously . . . I would like to have a solid 10 books published. One book a year sounds doable to me.

2. I want to have my bills paid off all the way. And, maybe, have a new car.

paid

3. I want to go to Scotland and touch Hadrian’s Wall. This has been my dream forever, so I want to be able to look back in 10 years and know that I’ve been there, done that, and have a rock to show for it.

homepage-hw-slide-sunset-min

4. I would love to have a solid retirement fund set up. Yeah, I know, boring, but it’s something we all have to think about. Unless I can win the lottery, then, HELL YEAH!!!

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5. I would like my book(s) to be on someone’s best seller list. Doesn’t have to be the New York Times (though it would be nice), but I’d like to see someone say it’s a best seller.

6. I’d really like to have taken an Alaskan cruise.

alaska_denali_peggy-bechtell

7. Oh and since I’m on a best seller list then I’d like to be making good, consistent money from my books. Go me!

8. I would love to have a handle on my depression and not have it affect me so dramatically.

9. I want to be back in shape and actually making exercise an important part of my life. I think if I can do this, then number 8 might be doable.

10. I know you’ll think this is me being funny, but I really want every room in my house to have a new coat of paint. I say this because I’ve been in this house . . . almost 14 years and there are rooms that still have the original paint the builder put on them. *head hanging in shame* I’ve been busy!! And, if you ask any of my friends, I have a horrible time picking paint colors. I will paint a billion color patches on the walls and finally my friends will start to vote for the color they like best.

And, there you have it, my list of 10 and yay there’s actually 10. Now go check out and see what my amazing friend Bronwyn wishes to accomplish.