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February Song Fic – “Angel With a Shotgun” by The Cab

**apologies for the late posting…don’t know what happened when I scheduled this…
it didn’t post when I set it to. 🙁 **

Time for February’s song flash fic. This month’s song is “Angel With a Shotgun” by the Cab. Have a listen if you like:

I love this song, and have had something simmering about it since we chose songs for the year. I’m going to visit the world of my Albion’s Circle series for this one.

I’ve also written other flash fiction set in this world, if you’d like to have a read. 🙂

“Merlin’s Cave”
“The Hammers Coming Down”
“I Will Possess Your Heart”
“The Coldness”
“Ever The Same”
“Ghosts That We Knew”
Promptly Penned #20 – “One Last Time”
“Ghost”

Hope you enjoy this one, and what the others have come up with for “Angel With a Shotgun”.


~Merlin~

I slowly walked down the stairs. I’d slept longer than I planned. Hell, I hadn’t planned on sleeping at all until Arthur pushed his way into my room and forced me. I’d slept long and hard—if I didn’t know better, I’d suspect Arthur had magic and used a spell on me. I’d clearly needed the rest. Physically, I felt better than I had in a while, and more importantly, my mind was well clearer.

Not that I’d say or admit anything to Arthur. That would just get me his patented smug, knowing look—his fucking royalty bleeding through—and more fussing in the future.

I followed the voices through the lower level to the kitchen. I stopped in the doorway, leaning a shoulder against the jamb, and bit back a sigh.

Not everyone was here—the newer members of our group were absent, as were some of the knights. I swallowed thickly as the face of one knight who would not join us again in this life filled my mind. Cursing inwardly, I shoved that aside, unwilling to spiral down that hole. Not now.

Arthur, Owain, and Lancelot sat at the large table, Owain pointing out something on his laptop screen to the others. Galahad and Will stood at the stove, playing grab-ass as they cooked. And Anna…my Anna was a few feet away, whisking eggs. I couldn’t see her face, but sadness radiated from her, and my heart ached. With the knowledge that I’d had a large part in bringing about that sadness. That more would come. It was inevitable. It always was.

The weight of responsibility, of duty, pressed down on me. The oppressive feeling all too familiar. It was an old friend, my constant for hundreds of years, for lifetimes. Only a handful of times had I shamefully wished it away. Those moments of weakness, when grief and despair and loneliness had taken their toll, never lasted long. Because I knew, I remembered, what I was fighting for.

Humanity.

The Circle was formed for that, after all. We vowed our lives—every one of them—to protect the world from Magical threat.

My friends.  Those I loved.

Arthur…the Circle…those who had bound themselves to us, to help us in our quest. Those I’d mourned again and again, and vowed to keep safe every time.

Her.

My Anna. Sweet Annwyl. I looked at her, heart aching still. Not with sadness, but with the depth of the love I had for this woman, the lengths I was willing to go to keep her safe and with me.

Then, slowly, she turned and met my gaze. And time stood still. It was only the two of us. She moved across the room and stopped in front of me. Eyes narrowed, she lifted her hands to cup my face and stared. Then, seemingly satisfied with what she saw, she nodded.

“Breakfast is almost ready,” she said softly, raising up on her toes.

I closed my eyes when her mouth pressed against mine. My magic pulsed and swelled…and rejoiced when hers answered, twisting and twining with mine, wrapping around the both of us.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“Hmmm,” she hummed, pulling back. “I know.”

Her smile took my breath away, as always. I’d stopped wondering long ago—so long ago, back in Camelot—if she’d ever stop having that effect on me. Anna and her magic would always overwhelm me, take my breath away, and make my heart ache. I accepted that more easily than any other fact of my life.

“I love you, too.” She held my gaze a moment longer than turned away, moving back to help her brother and Galahad finish with breakfast.

Yes, the weight still pressed down on me—the responsibility, the duty—and I had so much to do, but I knew what I was fighting for. I knew who I was fighting for. I would take all the weight, all the shit thrown at me, all the shameful moments I had to bear for what I had here. For her.


Bronwyn Green | Kris Norris | Siobhan Muir

Wednesday Randomness: Promptly Penned #25

**Trigger Warning: There is description of sexual assault that is stopped.
If that is something that would bother you, please don’t read further**

Hello, happy Wednesday, all!

It’s time for a Promptly Penned flash fic. The prompt, as always will be in bold within the story itself. Hope you enjoy!


Amelia shivered as the bus pulled noisily away from the stop. She tugged her coat more closely around her and began walking toward her house. It was more than the cold affecting her, though she tried not to think about it. About how, for weeks, she’d felt eyes on her all the time. About the monsters in the shadows. The ones her mother had warned her about for as long as she could remember—the beasts that stalked relentlessly, that stole people away, people who were foolishly unaware of their surroundings.

Never be unaware, Amelia. Always keep your eyes open, know what is around you. Don’t let them ever take you by surprise, my girl. Never ever.

She’d thought her mother crazy, even as she nodded and promised to be careful and aware of her surroundings. But these past weeks…she wondered if, perhaps, her mother had been right about the monsters all along. Or maybe this was the beginning, the start of Amelia’s descent into madness.

“Mel!”

She jolted at the shout then quickened her pace. What was wrong with her? There were no monsters. Not the kind Mom believed in, at least. If Amelia had felt watched, he was the reason why.

“Mel, wait up! Please, just…just… Would you just listen to me?”

Trent McKay.

She’d made the colossal mistake of agreeing to go out with the man and hadn’t been able to shake him since. After one date, she had known they weren’t right for each other, but Trent obviously thought otherwise. He constantly called, texted, and emailed. He made a habit of posting on her social media pages, embarrassingly shoving his way into conversations. Even though she’d bumped into a few times while out with friends, she comforted herself with the fact that he didn’t know where she lived. She’d insisted on meeting him at the restaurant for that first and only date. But now…now, in the darkening night on the nearly deserted street near her home, she feared that was no longer true. He’d been following her. Stalking her.

A large hand wrapped around her biceps and yanked her to a stop.

“Leave me alone,” she cried, struggling to pull free, but the grip holding her just tightened.

“Not until you listen!”

The world spun, and with a thud, he had her back against the wall of the building she’d been walking past. Heart racing, painful in her chest, Amelia stared into wide wild brown eyes.

“Trent, you need to leave me alone,” she said slowly, even as her voice trembled and a cold sweat broke out all over her body.

“No, no, no, you don’t understand,” he shouted, shaking her, knocking her head off the brick behind her.

“Stop it,” she cried, pain ricocheting through her skull, her vision wavering.

“You just don’t see it. But you will.”

“See what?” She pushed at him, again and again, as much as she could, given how he held her, but he didn’t budge.

“You and I belong together.” He grinned madly. “And I’m going to show you.”

Sour fear curdled on her tongue as Trent pressed closer, grinding his hardness against her hip.

“Stop fighting me, Mel. This is right; this is meant to be.”

“No.” She shook her aching head, pushing and hitting him as hard she could.

Suddenly, his weight pressed her to the wall hard, and one of his hands left her arm. Then, a glint of metal drew her attention. Her mouth went dry, and heart stuttering, she froze.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Mel,” he said, his mouth close to hers, breath sweeping hotly over her face. “But I will…I will if it will make you understand.”

Eyes glued to the knife he now held, Amelia asked, “Why? Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you,” he said simply. “You belong to me.”

“We went on one date!” she cried.

“Yes,” he said, bringing the knife to her throat, reaching between them with his other hand. “That’s all it took for me to know.”

Her breathing quickened as his fingers fumbled with the button of her jeans. This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t. Spots danced in her sight, and her fingers tingled. Shit, she was hyperventilating. But she couldn’t slow her breathing, couldn’t…

“That’s right,” Trent murmured, pulling down her zipper. “Don’t fight me.”

“Please don’t,” she whimpered, blackness edging out her vision.

“You’ll love me. You’ll see. You—”

Amelia legs gave out, and a scream echoed in her ears as she slid to the ground, free of Trent’s oppressive weight, a scream echoing around her. Trent’s scream.

She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision, trying to see what the hell was happening. And then she wished she hadn’t.

Monsters. Huge animals she couldn’t have imagined if she tried. Two of them hauled Trent away from her, their big muzzles clamped on his arms, teeth deep in his flesh, blood staining the fur around their mouths. The man kicked and screamed as they dragged him into the alley across the street. Suddenly, the screams stopped, and silence fell all around her.

Leaning heavily on the wall behind her, Amelia pushed to her feet. Stomach churning, she looked toward the alley, and bit back a scream of her own.

A man stood in a circle of light cast by one of the street lamps. He was huge—tall and broad—with dark messy hair, and his eyes… His eyes glowed red in the night as he stared at her. He held her gaze as he moved back, out of the light and into the shadows.

Amelia choked back a sob and stumbled forward. She had to get home. Away from Trent, away from the monsters. Quicker and quicker, she moved, tripping over her feet every time she looked back. She couldn’t help it, though. She could still feel eyes on her, watching her, following her.

She cried out in relief as she hurried up the short walk to her house. She fumbled the keys from her pocket, nearly dropping them before she could fit the right one in the lock. Shaking, she managed to unlock and push open the door. After stepping over the threshold, she stopped, and unable to help herself, she turned, knuckles whitening from her grip on the door.

There he was. The huge man with his glowing eyes. He stood across the street, feet braced apart, hands behind his back. Amelia blinked as her vision again blurred, then sharpened impossibly. The scents around her—the musty leaves on the ground, the trash in the cans at the curb, and him, all heat and fur?—swamped her senses. Her mouth watered, and her gums ached. Then, in an instant, all of that faded—as if it had never happened.

The man held her gaze as he bent forward in a small bow. And, as he straightened and grinned at her with impossibly sharp teeth, he once again melted back into the shadows.

Somehow, the fact he had followed her and knew where she lived didn’t matter. She felt an odd connection with him. She shook her head at the absurdity, but she couldn’t help it. Everything was different now. Her life was forever changed, now she’d learned the monsters were protecting her.


Bronwyn Green | Gwendolyn CeaseKris Norris | Siobhan Muir

Wednesday Randomness: Best and Worst – Writing Process


This week we’re sharing a new feature – Best & Worst. It’s not the best and worst for everyone, but what is best and worst personally for the blogger. For example, this week we’re talking Best & Worst Writing Process. So I’m going to share what writing process is the worst for me, and what is the best.

So I’ll start with…The whole “vomit the first draft” thing. For those unfamiliar, it’s the idea that you just write the first draft without fixing anything – you just write it all out…word vomit. This does not work for me. I know, for some people, this is awesome and works super well for them. I am not one of those people. I get incredibly anxious and frustrated, and it actually makes it difficult to write at all.

Now for what works best for me. I think a lot about the main characters. And, I mean, a lot. About them, their motivations, their familys, their lives. I don’t write all of this down. I will jot some notes down, especially if something is going to factor heavily into the story, but that’s it. It’s really just me, spending some time with the characters, getting to know them.

I outline my stories. Now, by outline I don’t mean tons of pages with every detail (that process isn’t the WORST for me but it’s a close second. Long outlines with every minute detail makes me feel as though I’ve already written the book at that point.) My style of outline is a list of the big moments. Things that absolutely have to happen to get my characters from the beginning to their happily ever after at the end. For series that have an overarching story arc through several books, the outline is a bit more detailed but not much.

Once I have that, I start writing, working my way to that first big moment, then the next, then the next. I try to be flexible, because some of the best moments in my books, in my opinion, were when the story or characters veered off of my intended path. That’s when I start talking to myself.

The answer to that, sadly, is yes, yes, we do.

It’s not a complex process, but it works for me. A bit of structure – a wee roadmap with all the main points on it – and some flexiblity to accept and work with the sidetrips my brain (aka story and characters) take me on.


Bronwyn Green | Gwendolyn Cease | Jessica De La Rosa | Siobhan Muir

February 2018 Photo Flash Fic – “Wait For It”

When Bron and I choose photos for the year, we always try to pick images that will challenge us as writers, that will make us flex our writing muscles. A few months ago, when we were choosing 2018’s pics, we decided to pick a few that were…a bit different. And I will freely admit, this month’s photo cracks my shit up. Don’t know why it makes me laugh so hard, but it does.

So, here it is…and the story I came up with follows. 🙂

“I fucking hate you,” Troy bit out as he stepped up to the bar beside his best friend…or former best friend, because this night was fucked up in all sorts of ways, and it was all Caleb’s fault.

Caleb startled slightly then, seeing Troy, rolled his eyes. “No, you don’t. You’re just nervous, but trust me, this is just what you need. A night out, some drinks, a pretty girl.”

Troy snorted. “You’re a fucking idiot.” With a sigh, he leaned on the bar. “Maybe it was a good idea, but your execution leaves much to be desired.”

Brow furrowed, Caleb handed the bartender his credit card after their drinks were placed in front of him. “What do you mean? My execution is freaking spot on. You love this place, I’m buying all the drinks tonight, and Penny brought her cute friend from work—who was more than a little excited about coming out with us tonight. I think she’s interested. You should give it a shot, at least, for fuck’s sake.”

“Oh, she’s interested all right.” Troy nodded, chuckling in spite of his annoyance. “Just not in me.”

Caleb’s frown deepened. “Thanks,” he said absently, accepting the card and receipt from the bartender. Signing the slip, he continued, “If you’re trying to say she’s interested in me, you are so fucking off base.”

Troy full-on laughed, then. Smart as fuck, but just as blind.

“No, not saying that.” He grasped his friend’s shoulder and turned him to face the table where Penny, Caleb’s girlfriend, and her friend, Clarisse, waited for the guys to return with the next round. “Really look and tell me what you see, dumbass.”

They stood silently for several long moments, their gazes on the two women.

“I don’t know what you want me to see but—”

“Wait for it,” I drawled.

Just then, Penny turned to look over at the men—probably because they were taking so damned long. She smiled and gave a little wave. And, behind her, Clarisse’s gaze was firmly on her friend. Her chest lifted and fell as she sighed heavily, her wide eyes practically filled with hearts.

“Well, fuck me…” Caleb breathed.

“There it is.”


Bronwyn Green | Siobhan Muir

Wednesday Randomness: Top 10 Things I Should Do But Don’t

Before I start in on my top ten, I want to say thank you to the fantabulous Kris Norris. You may notice that my website and blog have had a makeover. And Kris did the heavy lifting in that! And it looks beautiful and I love it so much. So THANK YOU, Kris!!! MWAH.

Now, on to the top ten things I should be doing but don’t. In no particular order…

Quit smoking. 

Sleep more. 

Eat better.

Drink more water.

Exercise regularly.

Write daily.

Treat my writing as a career.

Take more me time.

Stop procrastinating. 

Be less harsh to myself.

 


Bronwyn Green | Deelylah Mullin | Gwendolyn Cease
 Kris NorrisSiobhan Muir | Torrance Sené

 

January 2018 Check-in

Wow, already the end of January.

I didn’t really set goals for January – not specific ones anyway. So we are just going to say that January was…okay. Not the greatest, but not the worst. LOL I did all my blog posts, got some quality family time, my house is mostly in order, and I’m still up and moving. I’ll call that a success.

I’m just going to keep my eyes forward, then, at this point. For February:

  • Complete all scheduled blog posts
  • Write daily – and try for some big numbers the first week of Feb while in Michigan.
  • Coursework – I’m taking a class in February, so keeping up with that is a big thing.
  • Take time for myself – beyond the typical self-care that needs to happen, some time doing something I just *want* to do, not that I have to do, is important.

And I’m going to leave it at this, this month. Baby steps and moving forward – my current motto. 🙂


Bronwyn Green | Gwendolyn Cease

Wednesday Randomness: January 2018 Brain Dump

This is likely to be all over the place. Lots going on. It was a snow day today, so my quiet day of working and writing quickly disappeared.

I’m still desperately trying to find the balance in life. Some days, I think I’m getting closer, but other days… Like now, mostly what I’m thinking about is how behind I am on pretty much everything.

The hubby is traveling again, so I’m taking another trip on the single parent train. It’s not too bad, though, with 2 of the kids driving – drastically cuts back on my running around. And the oldest just got his own car, so that helps even more. But it’s still not easy when he’s gone…not just because of day-to-day logistics…

BUT…after he gets home, I’m running away. I’m going to be in Michigan for a bit – which includes invading Bronwyn’s house, likely driving her family nuts, and getting to see some of my other fave people, including some of the other Wed bloggers. I can’t wait. I need the break away from everyday craziness, the chance to see friends I don’t get to see often enough, and the time to just write without other things pulling at me.

I’m having conflicting feelings about the fact my oldest is turning 21 in a week. He’s a great guy, and I’m so proud of him, and I feel like I’ve done something good and right in this world when I see the man he’s becoming, but omg, my baby is turning 21 – how is that even possible?

So, yeah, that’s what’s been on my mind. I need to play catch-up tomorrow, so I’m going to sign off and get my ass to bed. 🙂


Bronwyn Green | Deelylah Mullin | Jessica De La Rosa
Kellie St. James | Kris Norris
Siobhan Muir | Torrance Sené

Wednesday Randomness: My Life’s Mission Statement

Happy Wednesday. Today’s topic is My Life’s Mission Statement. I kind of have two. One is a general life one, and the other is specific to writing.

The first – it’s actually a quote. I have this put where I see it daily. The quote is often attributed to John Wesley, though there is some debate if it was truly said/written by him. Regardless of who said it, it’s something I try very hard to live my life by.

The second – my mission as a writer.


Bronwyn Green | Deelylah Mullin | Kris Norris
Paige Prince | Siobhan Muir

January 2018 Song Fic – “Dog Days Are Over”

It’s time for the first flash fic of the year. This week, our inspiration is one of my favorite songs – “Dog Days Are Over” by Florence + the Machine.

Though, I’ve found, just because a song is a fave does NOT mean it will be easy to come up with a flash fic! But I’ll give it a shot… LOL Going off the opening line:

Happiness hit her like a train on a track
Coming towards her stuck still no turning back

Loosely connected to my (poor, super-neglected) serial, Your Lies.


I didn’t bother turning on the light as the shadows lengthened around me. Sitting in the dark… Well, it helped. Not nearly enough, but enough for the moment. And I wasn’t thinking beyond this moment. Soon enough, I’d have no choice, but for now, I was just going to sit.

I didn’t regret what brought me to this point. I couldn’t…not ever. Not with my daughter sleeping down the hall.

When I’d met her father… God. I scrubbed my palms down my face, cringing at the wetness on my cheeks. Meeting Sam was like getting hit by a train. Before I knew it, I’d fallen in love him. Worrying about his magic, and what that would mean—for him, for me, for the family we’d start—didn’t even enter the equation. Not at first. Not even as early as it should have. I wasn’t stupid, after all. I knew how magic users were viewed, the dangers they faced. But what was that in the face of love? Maybe I was stupid…because Sam was gone now. Taken, killed… I didn’t even know.

And I couldn’t even properly feel, properly mourn. Not when I had to keep my daughter safe. My Delia, who had her father’s magic flowing so strongly through her veins. Who wielded her power with hardly a thought. Who could be taken from me just as easily, as suddenly as Sam had been.

I straightened in the hard kitchen chair, shaking my head at the thought. No. No one was going to take her. I wouldn’t let that happen. I may not have been able to stop Sam—the fucking nobility that had helped me fall in love with him had driven him to risk far too much for others like him—but I could keep Delia safe.

Nothing else mattered. Not my feelings, not my grief, not my fear. All that mattered was Delia. Her safety. I closed my eyes, pictured Sam in my mind. I’d do this for him, for the love we had. The living and breathing love that was our little girl.


Bronwyn Green | Deelylah Mullin | Gwendolyn Cease
 Kris Norris | Siobhan Muir

Wednesday Randomness: Promptly Penned #24

My flash fic is late. Boo. Past few days have been rough (mostly insomnia o.O) so I decided to choose some positive self-care and put myself to bed early the other night…and do my flash fic later. And I’m much better for it, so wooot #teamselfcare!

This week’s prompt, as always, is in bold in the story.


Cassie opened the fridge and pulled the chocolate cake from the top shelf. She’d made the stupid thing for Ryan, becasue it was his favorite, to celebrate his promotion at work. That was before she’d heard from her sister – who had heard from his sister – that he’d planned on ending things with her. Apparently, his parents had convinced him that Cassie wasn’t right for him.

She snorted as she straightened. She’d known they wouldn’t like her and Ryan going from friends to something more – not after “the scandal” – but she’d honestly thought Ryan would last more than a fucking week of officially dating before questioning things…and here they were – less than a week, and he was breaking it off.

Well, fuck that. She’d allow herself however long it took to demolish this cake to wallow, then she had to move on. And make better fucking choices. Because this last one? She wasn’t just losing a boyfriend, but the boy who’d taken her hand in kindergarten and claimed her as his best friend forever.

Who was she kidding? She was going to need more cake. Because moving on was going to take a helluva long time. She wasn’t even sure it was possible. How do you move on from losing someone who starred in twenty-five years of your life?

“Starting without me?”

Cassie yelped, the fridge door slamming shut as she spun around, fumbling to keep the cake from dropping. Ryan leaned against the doorframe, the corner of his mouth tugged up in that blasted half-smile that never failed to give her butterflies in her stomach.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she blurted.

He tilted his head to the side, brow furrowed. “Thought we were celebrating tonight?” he said slowly. “Did I get it wrong?”

She blinked. Stared. Then blinked again. “But you… Joanna told Beth…” She snapped her mouth shut and inhaled through her nose. “You broke up with me.”

“Really?” he drawled, pushing away from the doorjamb. “Funny…I don’t remember doing that.”

“Well, you’re going to.” She frowned. “Aren’t you?”

He shook his head, mouth twitching into a smile, again. “What have I told you about listening to our sisters? Never ends well, sweetheart.”

“So, your parents didn’t try to convince you not to see me anymore? That being associated with my family would be- Hey!” she exclaimed as he slowly moved toward her. “Take one step closer to me, before you explain yourself, and I swear to God, I’ll…I’ll…she held the cake up threateningly, “I’ll  drop this cake! I’ll do it! Don’t test me!”

His stride didn’t even falter.

“I mean it, Ry!”

“Fuck the cake.” Stepping up to her, he met her gaze as he lifted his arm and knocked it against hers.

She watched the cake drop, watch it explode across the floor and splatter on their feet and lower legs. “I can’t believe you just did that!”

“I can’t believe you thought I’d break up with you. Don’t you get it, yet? I don’t care what my parents say. I don’t care what either of our families say or even think. I don’t care that your dad embezzled millions and ran away and caused ‘the scandal’. All I care about, all that matters, is you and me.” He cupped her face gently. “Cass, you’re my best friend, and I love you. I’ve loved you since we were five, for fuck’s sake. Nothing and no one is going to change that.”

Her eyes burned, and her breathing hitched. “I love you, too,” she managed.

He grinned then leaned down. When his mouth settled over hers, everything seemed to slot back into place – everything was good, again. Except…

When he pulled back, she glanced down at the chocolate mess they were practically standing in. “It’s your favorite,” she murmured.

“Nah.” He pressed another kiss to her lips. “You are.”


Bronwyn Green  | Deelylah Mullin | Jessica De La Rosa
Kris Norris |Siobhan Muir