Time for a flash fic. We're writing flash fic inspired by Travis Collin's "Call Me Crazy"
I had a hard time with this one - don't know why. Finally went with pulling some lines and coming up with something from those... The lines I went with are:
To the life we had
To the rules we broke
To the plans we made together that you left to me alone
To every dream, every good night kiss
And so you had to leave
Did you have to leave, like this
I stared at the number on the screen, chest aching. I shouldn’t call him. I knew that. Really I did. But… It felt like I needed to. Until now, I’d had no way of getting ahold of him. I’d had nothing but memories of the life we’d built together. And the unbelievable pain his leaving had caused.
Then, I’d heard Ryan talking to him on the phone—fuck, just hearing his name had jumpstarted something in me, made me feel alive when I’d just been existing all these months.
I hadn’t hesitated, when Ryan had ducked into the bathroom, in grabbing his phone, finding Dominic’s number, and plugging it into my contacts.
That’d been four days ago. Four days of telling myself I shouldn’t call. Four days of remembering the years we’d spent together, happy and in love, and dreaming of a future. Four days of picturing him in my head, imagining his smiles, his soft, sleepy goodnight kisses, the way he would look at me as if I was all he needed. Four days of knowing I was going to call, eventually, because how could I not? Finding his number, now, was a sign, right? A sign that we could make this work again. All I needed to do was call.
Mind made up, and fingers trembling, I hit “call” and brought the phone to my ear.
Oh god, his voice. My stomach clenched at the sound. Memories had nothing on actually hearing it again. I wet my lips and swallowed the lump lodged in my throat.
“Dom,” I breathed.
A long silence. I pulled the phone away, saw the time still counting up on the screen, then tried again. “Dom, it’s me.”
“You shouldn’t— Fuck.” He sighed heavily. “Goodbye, Grant.”
“No, no! Wait. Please! Don’t hang up,” I pleaded, hating the fact I was begging but, at the same time, grateful because I could still hear him breathing on the other end. “I just needed to hear your voice. I…I…I miss you.” When he didn’t respond right away, I asked, “Don’t you miss me?”
I frowned at the harsh reply then shook my head.
“You don’t mean that,” I whispered. “You love me. I love you. We’re meant to be together. All the plans we made…the dreams we had for a life together… That doesn’t just disappear, Dom. It just doesn’t.” I shoved a hand through my hair, pulling slightly on the strands. “I’ve been thinking, remembering all of that. I can’t stop thinking about you. How you look when—”
“Well, try harder,” he snapped. “Or if you want something to think about, something to remember, remember that last night. Or were you too drunk to remember clearly? Because I remember it all too well.”
“I said I was sorry, and I am. I never meant to hurt you like that. It won’t ever happen again,” I vowed, even as his beautiful face, bruised and bloody, filled my mind and made me want to vomit.
“I’ve heard that before. Believed it the first couple times you said it.” He sniffed and cleared his throat. “The man I fell in love with left long before I walked out the door, Grant. All the plans, the dreams? Were destroyed long before that night, and you know it.”
“Dom, please, give me one cha—”
“No. No more chances. You already used them all up.” Then, voice quieter, softer, he added, “Keep getting help, Grant. Get better. Be happy.”
The click echoed in my ear—just as loudly as the slammed door all those months ago had, and yet somehow, more final than anything I’d ever heard.
“How can I without you?”
Of course, that was the question I'd been asking myself since that night. And hearing him again, I was farther from an answer than ever.
Time for another Promptly Penned post. We all start with the same prompt and see where it takes up.
Unlike most of the prompts—which end up within in the story itself—this week’s prompt is a scenario.
While cleaning up the attic, he/she finds a box of glass balls with names on them. One drops and, as it shatters, a person appears.
So, here goes nothing…
Kayleigh Hughes wrinkled her nose as she looked around the dusty old attic. There was so much freaking stuff. How on earth was she supposed to sort all this? She poked at a gaudy coat hanging from a rack full of equally ugly-ass clothes. Didn’t Gramps get rid of anything?
She sighed. Well, she could kiss her weekend goodbye. Clearing the attic alone was going to take that much time, let alone the rest of the house. She rolled her eyes as she heard the raised voices downstairs. Well, at least she wasn’t under Gramps’ supervision like Andy was as he worked on the main level. The older man—who had raised the two of them—was not happy about leaving his home and moving in with Andy. And he wasn’t shy about bitching about it, that was for sure.
Which was exactly why Kayleigh had hightailed it up to the attic, but now that she was here, she didn’t even know where to start. With another sigh, that morphed into a violent sneeze, she grabbed a couple books that sat atop a box and flipped through the yellowed pages of one. Spellbooks. Looked like her grandmother’s handwriting. Definitely keep. She set them aside gently.
She lifted the flaps to the box in front of her and frowned. Glass balls, nearly a dozen, of them filled the small container. Kayleigh reached for one but yanked her hand back at the jolt of power that raced through her when her fingertips touched the surface.
What the hell?
Bracing herself, magical shields firmly in place, she again reached for one of the orbs. Grasping it carefully, she turned it around. Writing caught her eye, and she squinted in the crappy light.
That sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it… She peered down at the other balls—all had names etched into them.
This was not good. She wasn’t as proficient with magic as her grandparents, and Andy, were. Her power was more instinctual, and she’d never liked devoting hours to the study of it. But she knew that there was no way whatever this was could be good.
She took a deep breath, then shouted, “Andy!”
Kayleigh cringed. He already sounded pissed off. But nothing for it. She had no clue what these things were, but they reeked of magic, and that was for big brother to deal with. Always had been.
“Come here!” she called back, fingers sliding over the smooth glass.
She jolted and blinked when colors swirled within the sphere. Holding it closer, she frowned. Nothing. No colors, no movement. Must have been a trick of the lig—
With a shriek, Kayleigh spun around at the sound of Andy’s voice, and the ball slipped from her grasp. As it shattered on the wood floor, a cloud of color—identical to the ones she’d just seen in ball itself—billowed up beside her. Coughing, she staggered back.
Kayleigh fell straight on her freaking ass at the strange angry voice—and the sight of a tall dark-haired man standing where the glass had broken.
“Son of a bitch.” Her brother… Sounding more pissed than before, with an edge of exasperation.
“Andy?” The other man shook his head then looked down at the box next to him. “Well, fuck.” He turned his gaze back to Andy. “Again? Really?”
Her brother sighed and shoved his fingers through his hair. “I told you he was getting bad, Henry. Not fit to be on his own anymore.”
“Yeah, I figured that out,” Henry said, drolly. He picked up the box and moved toward the door. “Let’s get this taken care of then we’ll deal with Phillip."
Henry? That’d been the name on the ball…and now he was… And they were basically acting like she wasn’t standing right here!
“Wha—“ She pushed to her feet and glared at the men. “What the hell is going on here?”
Andy waved a hand. “Don’t worry, Kayls. I’ve got this.” He turned on his heel and headed down the stairs, Henry right behind him. As they descended, Andy yelled, “Gramps! What the fuck did I tell you about collecting! You can’t just keep people you daft old man!”
Collecting….keeping people…he’s got this? Oh hell no! She raced after them, wondering what crazy shit Gramps had gotten them into.
We're talking our top 10 story tropes today. Jumping right in....
Workplace Romance - Love in the workplace, and all the awkwardness that can ensue...sign me up. I was actually taken aback when I realized I've never written a workplace romance...how is that even possible? A frickin' tragedy, that...and should be remedied in the future.
Returning Home - Especially when home is a small town and there are issues. Maybe it's the small town girl in me that loves that setting, I don't know, but I really enjoy stories with this trope.
Fling to a Thing - I love when one or both characters go into it with the expectation that it's gonna just be a fling - all short-term - and then, it becomes so much more. With feelings, even. Le sigh.
Age difference - I will be honest, I tend to go for the Older Woman/Younger Man before an Older Man/Younger Woman, but I adore them both. So very much. Like an unhealthy amount of adoration.
Reunion/Second Chance - Who doesn't love second chances? Okay, I'm sure there are people who don't like those stories, but that's not me. I quite enjoy seeing characters with histories - often bad one with legitimate things that drove them apart and have kept them apart - coming back together and, ultimately making it work.
Redemption - Okay, one of my favorite, FAVORITE things is when a character makes good. Whether it's one of the protaganists or one of the baddies... I want the tragic back story, I want to understand why they did what they did, I want to CRY for them and root for them and see them better and happier and in love and all that.
Angst/Hurt/Comfort - O...M...G I eat this up. So much, it's not even funny. Seriously, with a freaking spoon! Everyone who knows me knows I adore the angst SO FREAKING MUCH. Just take a look at my Albion's Circle series, and you'll know just how much... 😉
Secret Relationship - Please, secret relationship is prime real estate to build angst, baby. Sign me up. Also, even though it's not required for me, I dp love when there is humor woven in, too - like, how they keep it secret, what they tell others, times when they slip in conversation or are almost caught...
Enemies to Lovers - A very close second for my absolute top trope. An enemies-to-lovers story will suck me right in. From the initial attraction to how they decide to deal with it...angry sex, anyone? Yes, please...to how they make it work.
Friends to Lovers - This has always been a favorite of mine and would be my instant answer if someone asked me for an absolute favorite. The first book I ever finished and published was a friends to lovers. I love seeing the hero and heroine figure out how they're going to navigate the change in their relationship, especially when they know each other really well and they're thrown for a loop.
Honorable Mentions - Professor/Student (but not in a creepy way LOL), Soul Mates/Destined (but it totally has to be done right...no instalove with no conflict except external...) and Them Against The World (when no one else thinks the couple will make it, or even understands how they're together...)
*Fling to a Thing
*Age Difference (Older Woman/Younger Man)
~Within the Albion's Circle series~
*Friends to Lovers
*Enemies to Lovers...kinda
~Within the Seeking Shelter series~
*Fling to a Thing
*Friends to Lovers
*Them Against the World (in a very literal way...)
Warning - some brutal freaking honesty ahead.
My hopes for September being a bit calmer and allowing me time to write, were dashed pretty damned quick
I'm not going to go into a ton of detail because this isn't the place for that - but life isn't cooperating. Seems as though as soon as I start to get things on an even keel, something rocks it all.
Kiddos are all back in school - and the oldest has moved out (may have mentioned that in the last update...). Right now, my 10-year-old niece is living with us. She's a sweetheart and honestly a joy, but it does make things a bit more crazy - especially at first. Things seem to be settling...*sigh* please let them be settling.
It seems like all I do anymore is run kids here and there and pick them up... I feel like I spend the entire day in the car chauffering ppl around. (I know running kids around may not seem like much, but doing it for school and work for my kids and for several of my nieces, the time in the car is ridiculous, believe me) And everything is suffering for it - my work, my writing, the house...
I don't talk about it much, but I've never kept secret the fact I've dealt with, and still do deal with, depression. And I'd be lying if I said that the recent craziness hasn't impacted me in that respect. I'm fine, though. Really. I know when to get help, and I won't allow this to spiral out of control - learned that lesson a long time ago. But it IS something that is real and happening in my life at the moment. And even though, I'm working through it, it's not always easy and it's not as though there is a quick fix for it, ya know? After all, it didn't get to this point overnight. Sure, some of the crazy stuff are recent developments but other things have been creeping up for a while - sneakily. I look back at my journals and blog posts for the past several months (heck most of the past year), and this isn't a new thing. Amazing how blind one can be to something that is happening to them... Depression is a sneaky, sneaky bitch.
So... Long story short, I'm not going to look at what I'd meant to accomplish this past month, because I'm fairly certain I didn't accomplish a single thing on that list. And I'm going to let that go - not dwell on it - because doing that isn't going to help a thing.
As for goals for October - not really going to make goals like I normally do. Just going to promise myself I'm going to focus on self-care, doing what I need to do to take care of myself, and write. What that writing will look like - daily, weekly, whatever - I don't know. I just know that not writing? That makes it all worse, so writing has to factor in somehow.
*Deep breath* So that's it for me this month. Sorry for the ramble, but even writing this much down has helped. 🙂
(Keeping it short and sweet this week - only halfway through and I'm yearning for the weekend and a couple days of no running!)
SONG I CAN'T STAND TO LISTEN TO - Right now? Any song from toddler/preschool shows, in general. Any song from Daniel Tiger, in particular.
SONG I COULD LISTEN TO ALL DAY WITHOUT GETTING TIRED OF IT - "Gang of Rhythm" by Walk Off the Earth and any song from Hamilton.
SONG THAT GREW ON ME - Any song from Phineas and Ferb (sensing a theme? All the littles that come to my house daily... there is always a kids shows on...I just can't think beyond that right now, regardless of how lame that makes me LOL)
It's time for another promptly penned - we all start with the same prompt and see what we come up with. I changed the tense of the prompt and split it all up because...well, I did. The actual prompt is in bold within the fic. 🙂
They said I was a traitor. That word was spat at me more than once today. Maybe I was. Though I’d pin that label on them before taking it myself.
And wasn’t that a kick in the fucking nuts. My own parents. That they were capable of… That I’d been blind to everything they… That… That…
I fought the sudden surge of vomit in my throat. Struggled to maintain control. Now wasn’t the time to lose it. That would come later. But fuck—spots danced across my vision, and I couldn’t draw a full breath. I dragged shaky, clammy hands over my face and tried to stay upright.
The small trembling voice penetrated the panic crippling me. Effectively obliterating it. She was what this was about, what I needed to be about right now. And keeling over, puking my guts out, wasn’t going to help my sister.
I turned toward her and cringed. She wasn’t looking at me, but at our parents…her tormentors. I could only imagine what was going through her young mind as she stared at them. Sprawled across the wood floor, lifeless, expressions of horror forever etched on their faces, completely lifeless.
Because of me. Another violent wave of sick pushed up my throat, nearly gagging me. She had to be scared out of her mind…of me. How was I going to—
“Samuel?” she said again, turning and rushing at me. Tears burned my eyes, blurring everything as her rail thin arms wound around my waist tightly.
“Hey,” I murmured, running my hand over her snarled hair. Fuck them, they couldn’t even bother to brush her motherfucking hair! “We need to go, now, Mel.”
“Go?” She tipped her head back, and wide, all-too-serious green eyes blinked dup at me. “I can…I can leave?”
“Yeah,” I breathed. Clearly my throat, I continued, “Yeah, sweetheart, you can leave, and you don’t ever have to come back. They can’t ever hurt you again. I promise.”
“With you?” she said, so loudly it echoed off the walls around us. “I can go with you, right, Samuel? ‘Cause we’re the same…” She smiled brightly. Despite everything, joy radiated from her. “They didn’t know that. They thought it was just me, but that was so wrong. I knew before you killed them with—” Her smile faltered slightly then firmed up again. “We’re the same,” she repeated. “I can feel it.”
She lifted her hand and grasped mine, sparks of the power housed in her tiny body pushing out insistently. I nodded and let my own magic answer, let it twine around hers, surrounding her protectively.
“Yes,” I croaked. “We’re the same.”
I dropped a kiss on her forehead and tightened my grasp around her fingers then led her out of the house. She blinked then squinted as we stepped into the bright sun.
“Where are we going?”
“I don’t know, yet. But I’ll figure it out, and it doesn’t matter.” I helped her into the car and buckled the belt around her before meeting her gaze straight on. “We’ll take care of each other, Mel. Do whatever it takes. Just like we did today. It was us or them.”
She nodded solemnly. “Us or them.”
I straightened and shut the door. Staring at the large house—a rich and beautiful prison, nothing more—I stopped trying to hold it all back. With a rush, my magic, fueled by my rage, exploded outward.
Flames filled the building before me, engulfing and destroying the evil that lived there, that dared to hurt that sweet and innocent girl. I didn’t wait, didn’t need to see the end result. It was done.
Yeah, they could call me a traitor—and many would—all I knew was that I did what I had to do.
This week we're talking about our writing hopes and aspirations.
I'm not difficult to please... Really, Im not. I don't have aspirations of selling x-number of copies or landing on any lists. Not that I would run away from that, mind, but it's not the "dream" for me.
When I think about what I want - what my hopes and dreams are - what I really want is to be able to write full-time. To make enough that I don't have to work the other jobs. To be able to put writing first without feeling like I'm taking away from my family by doing so.
And that's really it. That is what I hope for, what I aspire to.
See, easy to please? LOL
Well, I was not looking forward to this post. I was coming at it, thinking, Well shit, I didn't really accomplish anything at all this month. Another cruddy month in a line of them. That train of thought didn't change when I looked back at my goals for the month:
So definitely wasn't doing so well this month, that was for sure. Yeah, I was in full pity-party mode.
But when I said as much, via text, to the Bron, she wouldn't let that stand - because she is an awesome friend who doesn't put up with my whiney, down-on-myself ass. This is the response I got:
Not true. You had a vacation, went to a con, did panels, had fun, stayed at my house and didn't buy washi, wrote some, went to the evil dentist twice and fucking survived!
You survived dealing with another fucking international trip, sending your kid off to college...no, two trips...
YOU RERELEASED THOSE BOOKS, BITCH
And she's right. Just because I didn't absolutely hit those four things from last month's list doesn't mean I didn't accomplish anything.
I did have a great vaca and vist to Bron's. The con we went to was amazing, and I did panels, even though public speaking makes me want to vom, and think I did pretty all right on them. I didn't spend copious amounts on washi or other bujo/planner accessories that I don't need (but are oh so pretty and I wants them).
The evil dentist...I did survive those traumatic experiences (and to be fair, my dentist is a lovely woman who has, for some reason, chosen this career path...but I have issues with dentists in general and isn't something I'm getting over any time soon, apparently).
I edited over 200K this month (a couple times over as most of those manscripts I did two rounds on).
I survived the 17 year old traveling internationally without me for most of the month (she is home now and had a wonderful time! Such an awesome experience for her!). Am still surviving...dare I say succeeding day to day...while the hubby is on another international trip for work.
And I did send my oldest off to college. It's not his first year, but he lived at home while attending community college the last couple years. Now, he is at a larger university and has moved out. *deep breath* I wasn't prepared for this, even though I knew it was coming. But he is settling in and doing great so that is excellent.
And yeah! I released my Seeking Shelter series! I did that!
So, that as my August. Looking forward, here are my goals for the month of September: