Thursday, 17 March 2016

Thursday Threads 208

Ambrosia took delicate sips of her tea. She looked up at the night, pin pricked with glittering diamonds but never outshining the moon, reminding her there was a sun as its rays reflected on the lump of celestial rock, creating a silver stream of light in her world of darkness.

She finished her tea, gazing ahead. “You can come out now. We’ve stalked each other for hours, day after day. I’m tired of fighting.”

Like a shadow, Damon moved through the thicket into view. “I imagined you’d drink something stronger.”

“Nothing cleanses the palate of blood like tea.” She poured him a cup, her eyes never leaving him. “So what now, Hunter?”

He gulped the tea, swiping his hand over his mouth when finished. “I’m no hunter if the prey chooses not to run.” He smiled.

It was the first show of warmth from any human and Ambrosia liked it. “Can I suggest a truce?”

Damon studied her porcelain complexion, glowing in the moonlight, surrounded by luscious dark curls. “What about the deal with your family? I know you have until dawn to kill me. Or you die.”

“I have places they will never find me. I can’t kill you, you can’t kill me. It’s like we’re meant to coexist. I like that.”

He leant over, his lips crushing hers. He looked into her eyes of black. “Your family can have you.” He snapped silver cuffs on her delicate wrists, her skin blistering as he walked back into darkness.


What's hiding in Katie Button's bedroom?

Prompt from Writers Write Creative Blog

After seeing a prompt the other day on Drink Tea Write Words, I thought I’d give it a go: ‘Write about the things hiding in your protagonist’s bedroom’. I love this idea. From the obvious to the not so obvious.  

Katie Button has been described as fun, kooky and passionate by gorgeous readers. She’s a tad scatty too which should make for an interesting nose round Katie’s bedroom. What is she actually hiding in there? If you’ve read The Adventures of Katie Button, you’ll be familiar with some of what’s hiding in her bedroom. But there’s a few you may be surprised at.  

Shoe and boot boxes
Katie adores boots and shoes of any style and colour. Whether in the sale or full price (price  doesn’t figure if she really wants them) Katie will buy without a second thought. There are no little voices  in her head reminding her of bills to pay. No little voices telling her that she already owns that style; in another colour, yes, but still that same style. The boxes have to be stored somewhere and where better than the under her bed when the wardrobe is already full to bursting with boxes, loose shoes and boots. Anymore boxes under the bed and Katie will have to get a cabin bed or a bigger bedroom. Oh and she knows every pair of boots and shoes so don’t think you can sneak a pair. You could try asking. Let me know how that works out.  

All those boots and shoes come at a cost. Receipts and credit card bills aren’t pretty and spoil the whole shopping experience. Gathering dust, under the bed is the best place for such nasties which can be dealt with at a later date.

Notebooks and pens
Katie loves lists. She has lists for everything in pretty little notebooks written with pink fluffy pens. Her notebooks are her passion. She can’t resist walking past a shop without buying one or two. The problem is writing on the first page,  not wanting to spoiling the pristine, crisp pages.  But once written in, it doesn’t take Katie long to fill those pages with her crazy lists.

A snippet from one of Katie's lists

Gossip magazines
Katie loves a good gossip with her best friend, Alana. She also loves reading about gossip in the celebrity magazines.  Her favourite magazine is heat! The magazine is well thumbed but if you do find it under the bed, it will be left open on Torso of the Week unless there’s a story on David Beckham or Chris Hemsworth. Used as a fashion bible, you’ll find circles in biro around accessories (handbags and boots mainly) of celebrities.

Not a morning person? Neither is Katie. That alarm goes off and she buries herself under the covers, denying the sun peering through the gaps in the curtains, hiding the morning as she snatches another five or so minutes. Add to this a Monday morning and you have the worst morning in the history of the world. In fact, Katie goes as far to muse that if she was Queen, Monday mornings would be banned. This would make Tuesday the new Monday and would therefore have to be banned.

There are times when sleep eludes Katie, especially after one of her dreams. Usually, Katie is like the dormouse in the teapot, finding sleep easy to come by. Even after the eight hours, Katie wants and needs more as it never seems enough. But those dreams are exhausting and depriving her of one of her favourite things. This makes Katie grouchy and in the need of coffee. Lattes are her favourite but she’s not adverse to the odd espresso to kick start her day especially after a night of broken sleep where her mood needs a shot of the black stuff.

Sex (or the lack of)
As a healthy thirty something, single woman about town, Katie enjoys the exercise of the horizontal kind. But it’s been a bit thin on the ground since she broke up with her boyfriend a few months back. It doesn’t help matters when her flat mate, Laura, invites her boyfriend to stay over. It also doesn’t help having paper-thin walls.

When the curtains are closed, the bedroom door is shut and the silence of the night is your only companion, loneliness is pretty hard to fend off. Katie has friends. She loves her job. But there’s no one to share any of this with at the end of the day.  It’s not obvious to anyone, even Katie. But there are moments when she misses the closeness of idle chit chat and  pillow talk, the touch of another’s hand and the warmth of the other side of the bed.  

Ssshh . . . . Now that would be telling . . .

Hope you’ve enjoyed this little peek into Katie’s life. If you’ve read the book, what else do you think Katie is hiding in her bedroom?

Blurb to The Adventures of Katie Button
What happens when your dreams collide with reality?
Katie Button doesn’t believe in soul mates. When charismatic Jack Masterson asks her out on a date, despite him being her new boss alongside his more aloof brother, James, she agrees.

But her romantic dreams about a dashing highwayman, heroic gladiator and Tudor lord are becoming more frequent. And, worryingly, they feel real. She remembers every detail, every touch, every kiss. Until she realises the man in her dreams is James.

But Katie doesn’t even like James. And what about Jack, who is whisking her away for sexy mini breaks in the here and now?

Katie knows she needs to put an end to her dreams before they ruin her life. But how?

Amazon UK

                                                                   Amazon US

Saturday, 12 March 2016

FlashMobWrites 1x50 There's an Old Man

After half an hour, Emily’s phone rang. It was the usual drill on a first date; get your bestie to phone in case your date was a complete arse and nothing like his profile picture. Kyle was everything like his profile picture and more as the intensity of his smoky eyed gaze caught Emily off guard, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit it, had her lusting after him. There were no words needed as Emily texted her friend with a series of emojis leaving no doubt of Emily’s intentions.

“Your friend checking I’m not an axe murderer?” He curled his lips in a half smile.
Her body temperature rose, showing in her blushed cheeks.
“I take it, seeing as no one has come to rescue you and you’re still sitting here, you’re happy to continue and see more of me?”
Her body was now on fire as she spluttered on her wine, surprised it hadn’t turned to steam.
“I meant seeing more of what and who I am.” He refilled Emily’s glass. “Although, I’m not adverse to you seeing me naked.”
“Are you always this forward on a first date?”
“Only when I see someone I really like.”

The flirting continued throughout dinner and by the time they left the restaurant, Kyle pulled Emily into him, crushing her cherry lips, smearing her perfectly applied gloss. He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent as his lips grazed her skin, feeling the throb of her pulse quicken.
Her hands came up to his chest as she peered over his shoulder. “Not here, Kyle. It’s too public. There an old man on that bench, getting a free show.”
He spun her around, facing the bench. “He's just a crusty old man. Your attentions should be on me.” He kissed her again, this time slow and sensual.
Both wrapped up in each other, neither saw the old man leap from the bench. Moments later, he’d shoved Emily to the ground,  ripping  her handbag that had hung carefree from her shoulder. A knife waved in front of Kyle as the old man demanded jewellery. Not hesitating, Emily stripped herself bare of anything that glittered, her eyes on the flashing blade. The old man ran, vanishing into darkness.

Shaken, sore and tearful, Emily sunk into Kyle. His arms tightened around her. It was a long night of strong, sweet coffee and police statements. All the while Kyle sat with her until they were alone. He waited until she sank into an empty sleep and left.

Kyle reached his dingy little flat in the small hours.  
“You took your time.”  
“She’s in shock. You surpassed yourself tonight, ‘Old Man’. She’s minted.” Kyle cracked open a beer.
“Good as that suit you’re wearing cleaned us out.”
“I have to look the part, just as you look the part, brother.”
“That wig itches. Next time, I’m the hot date. Cheers.” Bottles clinked as Kyle waited for his phone to ring.


Written for



Thursday, 10 March 2016

Thursday Threads wk207

Yay!!! My Thursday Threads won a 'Honorable Mention'. 
Judge, Angela K Roe says: I love the story. her fear comes through along with her acceptance and the ending was another surprise that was as much of a jolt as her java!!

It’s the tastiest cup of coffee ever. The strong, black liquid delivers a punch  to the gut, waves of adrenalin soaring through my veins. For the first time I see things clearly. I don’t know why today of all days, I see things as they truly are.

Maybe because today is the day I’m going to die.

For him.

It isn’t news to me, or the others. I see they’re already dressed in their long, white smocks, sitting in the flower garden. They’re waiting for me. I’m the star, the one he has chosen to be at his side for eternity. I’m not gonna lie, I kinda fell for it, fell for him, the way he spoke, his passion, his love and generosity to us all. I saw it as a privilege that it was me he was gonna  kill first. Me that would lead the others on their way to eternal bliss.

He’s gotta kill me . . . first!

I choke on the coffee as it sharpens my senses, wakes me up from my dream like state where his words are to be praised, to be chanted, to be cherished.

I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be free of my mortal confinement.

Footsteps approach behind me. It’s him. He smiles, offering me his hand. I shake my head, backing away. I see the gleaming dagger.

“My dear, this dagger isn’t meant for you. I like death to be peaceful which is why I laced your coffee.”

Thursday Threads over at The Weird The Wild and the Wicked hosted by Siobhan Muir

Sunday, 6 March 2016

FlashMobWrites 1x49


Staying home instead of working the bar tonight for Tom is something I should have given serious consideration to. I know as soon as she walks in, she is going to cause me trouble. I know when she flirts with me, there is nothing innocent about it. What I should have done is what I usually do in these situations; flirt, serve the cocktails and make conversation. That’s it. And I do that. Sex on a beach and screaming orgasm are cocktails I have made a million times with pretty much the same conversation and howls of laughter like I haven’t heard it before. But the way the words fall in a soft caress from her perfectly glossed lips, the way her smoky almond eyes follow my every move like a cat stalking its prey, I know it is more than the drink she wants. And I am definitely interested.

She follows me outside when I have my break. Before I can speak, she flings her arms around my neck, presses her lips against mine. Of course, I respond, pushing her up against the wall, running my hand along her curves, feeling the warmth of her skin under the thin fabric. I ignore the wedding band. I ignore her reeking of alcohol, drowning instead in lust.  
Glassy eyed, she straightens her dress and joins her friends. It isn’t long before I’m delivering another tray of cocktails. She blushes which is cute. Her friends tease her but they have no idea. Coerced into joining in for a photo, I sit next to her, a compulsion to touch her. She lays her hand on my thigh, instantly my body responds. Luckily the tray is on my lap, hiding my desire. Her friends cackle hysterically. She plays up to them, pouting her lips, thrusting out her breasts. I want her and she knows it.

I can’t wait for closing time. I don’t know nor do I care what she spins to her friends or her husband. My girlfriend hasn’t crossed my mind (but then, I’ve only been dating her for a few weeks) until she walks in just before closing. My mind races, trying to find an excuse lurking in my mind. There is one, I’m sure. There has to be. But my mind is blank as the woman and her friends are ready to leave.  

“Hey, Mum,” my girlfriend says. “Mum, this is Daryl, the guy I’ve been telling you about and Daryl, this is Jane, my mum.”
A glass nearly slips from my hand as my girlfriend hugs her mum, the woman I just had sex with and plan to again within the next half an hour. Mum. She said ‘mum’. I see the colour drain from Jane’s face. I see the sudden realisation dawn on the faces of her friends. I feel sick. But not because of what I’ve done. But because I can’t stop thinking about Jane, the mother of my girlfriend.


Written for

Woohoo. Winning piece of flash with gorgeous judges comments. 



Thursday, 3 March 2016

I have to Go Back Thurs Threads 206

Stacey’s suitcase nestled securely between her legs. A thin film sat on top of her coffee. She gnawed at her fingernails, turning her head every time the door signalled another customer walking in. Checking her watch again, Stacey shuffled in her seat and doubt stole her confidence.
“Hey.” Michael sat, grabbing Stacey’s coffee. “Sorry, didn’t mean to make you jump.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re having second thoughts. You can’t, not now. Please don’t.”
“I have to.”
“Go back? If you go back now, it’ll be the end. You’ve done the hard part.”
“How can I move forward when I feel so guilty?”
“Because your life will be over if you go back. Is that what you want?”
“No.” She lowered her eyes.
He took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “We should go.”

Stacey picked up the suitcase and followed Michael to the car. A police siren caused her to freeze momentarily then she hustled into the passenger seat, the suitcase clutched in her lap.
“By the time the police are arresting your husband for fraud, we’ll be sunning ourselves on a beach with the money and no money trail other than to your husband. It’s perfect.”
It was perfect. Apart from the guilt spreading its roots within Stacey every time money was spent.

Written for