July Song Fic – “A Mháire Bhruinneal” by Susan McKeown

Today’s Song Fic is inspired by “A Mháire Bhruinneal” by Susan McKeown.

I adore this song, but decided to write someone who didn’t care for this type of music… It got a bit heated. Rowr.

Saturday night. Hot as fuck. Ass going numb on the wooden bench. Mosquitos out for his blood. Too many freaking people around—and the smell? Beer, sweat and too much Axe body spray. Lovely. Music—Irish music, which he didn’t even like, for fuck’s sake—filling his ears.

Christ, why? Why did he do this to himself?

Bran didn’t even have the excuse of his sister dragging him here as he’d had the night before…and the weekend before. Oh, she would have—she followed most of the folk bands around the state to festivals and faires—but she’d had to work.

And, instead of taking his friends up on a couple drinks at the sports bar or spending the evening at home, Bran had gotten in his car to drive an hour and a half for another night of lively music that made him grit his teeth, being jostled by too many freaking people, and expensive, watered-down beer in plastic cups.

Why?

He sighed then sipped his beer, cringing when the now piss warm liquid passed his lips. He fought the urge to spit it back into the cup. Barely. He stood, edged around people to one of the trash bins and chucked the drink in. He stood a moment, scanning the crowd, distracted enough that he jolted violently, knee knocking the bin a few inches, when a hand landed on his shoulder.

He spun around and found his gaze caught by amused blue eyes. His breath caught, and without a thought, he nodded when the dark-haired man beside him jerked his head to the side.

He followed the man—Thomas…brother of the girl currently singing on stage—through the labyrinth of tents, stalls and trailers, biting his lip as he watched the sway of narrow hips and a truly spectacular ass. Bran flexed his fingers… Christ that ass.

Ten minutes later, Bran had his answer. His back shoved against the hard metal of one of the trailers, his pants shoved past his hips and his hands buried in Thomas’ thick hair. Thomas’ hand—large and hot and deliciously calloused—was wrapped around both their cocks, stroking slow and maddeningly. His lips smoothed over Bran’s neck as Thomas pressed words and encouragements into the sweat-slick skin.

“That’s it, love,” he crooned, twisting around the cockheads in his grasp, pulling a gut-wrenching moan from Bran. “Come on, wanna feel you lose it… Love the sounds you make. Can’t wait to fuck you proper. You’d like that, yeah? My fat cock splitting you open? Hmmm?”

Bran opened his mouth, but all that escaped was garbled nonsense as Thomas sped up his strokes.

“Come back to my room after, Bran?” he murmured, nipping at the sensitive skin behind Bran’s ear. “Need more. More than just hands and cocks in the shadows… Stay the night. Fuck you good and proper. Fuck you through the bloody mattress…all…fucking…night.”

With a cry, Bran came hard, head falling back and thunking against the trailers. Thomas stroked a few more times then, shout muffled in Bran’s neck, came as well.

Bran shifted, dropping his head forward to rest his forehead on Thomas’ shoulder, and tried to catch his breath. His heart stuttered as soft gentle kisses peppered his neck, his jaw. Then, Thomas took his mouth—confidently but so fucking sweetly.

Yeah, Bran had his answer. Why did he do this to himself? One word—Thomas.


Bronwyn | Kris | Sarah

Wednesday Randomness: Promptly Penned #30

It’s time for another Promptly Penned post. We’re all given the same prompt and see where it takes us. The prompt itself is in CAPS in the post.

Cam braced his hands on the edge of the counter, leaning heavily, and let his head fall forward. Fuck, he hurt. Pain thrummed through his body with each heavy breath. Though, it was definitely better—marginally, but better—than when he first got home. One benefit of what the assholes had done to him was he seemed to heal much faster, now.

He huffed a humorless laugh, then groaned at the sharp stab of pain along his middle. Putting a positive spin on being abducted and experimented on for months was a bit much, even for him. Even if he was trying to do good with what they’d done to him, with the abilities he now had.

Straightening, he bit back another groan and moved to the freezer to grab an ice pack. Holding it tight against his side, he walked into the living room, where his friends were still talking loudly what had gone down that night.

Before he could join the conversation, the front door flew open, banging against the wall. Josh, Mat and Jazz all jumped to their feet as James strode into the room and slammed the door behind him.

James, who was Cam’s ex.

James, who was a thief. Not that Cam had known that…until it was too late.

A thief who had walked away from Cameron without a word, and now, had resurfaced, determined to step back into Cam’s life.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Cameron?” James said slowly and deliberately.

“Jamie,” Cam breathed.

“What the fuck are you thinking?” Mat snapped, stepping towards James. “You can’t just come busting in here!”

“Looks like I can,” James threw in his direction before turning back to Cam. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Cam shook his head. “No, I—”

“You need to leave,” Josh said, hand on Mat’s arm, keeping him from moving any closer to James. “You’re not wanted here. You aren’t part of this.”

“Part of this? Part of this?” James’ voice rose. “You’re damned right I’m not part of this. This being the stupidest damned thing I’ve ever fucking seen.”

“I said—” Josh started.

“It’s bad enough you’re out trolling the streets, looking for trouble,” James continued, speaking over the other man, eyes intense and locked on Cam. “Now, you have these idiots, what? Listening to a police scanner,” he gestured toward the equipment on the counter, “and calling you on your fucking cell to tell you where to go for even more trouble? Not a smart way to do this, Cameron.”

Cam tried really, really fucking hard to suppress the shiver that traveled his spine. Christ, the man’s voice…even when he was all disapproving and lecturing. All right, maybe especially because he was, which made Cam a sick, sick man.

“If you insist on continuing with this…mission of yours, you need to be smarter about it. And this crew?” He gestured at Cam’s friends. “Fuck, it’s like you woke up and said, ‘OH, WELL, THE BEST OF THE BEST WEREN’T AVAILABLE…SO WE GOT THE BEST OF THE MEDIOCRE,’ and just ran with it.”

“Fuck you. Like we give a shit about your opinion,” Mat sneered. “You’re a criminal.”

James laughed—a short bitter sound. “Never claimed otherwise, but what you’re doing—or rather what he’s out there doing while you sit here with your thumbs up your asses and safe—is vigilantism, which is… Hmmm, what’s the word? Oh, right…illegal. And could you tell the class what people who do illegal things are called? No? Nothing? That would be criminals, you fuckwit.”

“It’s totally different!” Jazz protested, seeming to finally come of the state of shock she’d been in since James arrived. “We’re… Cam’s helping people.”

“Still illegal, sweetheart,” he snapped. “Get it through your thick skulls—this isn’t some comic book or action flick; Cameron is not some indestructible superhero.”

“Enough,” Cam pleaded, head pounding. When the bickering continued, he raised his voice. “Enough!” He sighed as all eyes turned to him then gestured to his friends. “You guys can head on home. Obviously, we’re done for tonight; I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Mat gaped. “You can’t be serious!”

“We’re not leaving you alone with him,” Jazz added.

Cam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you are. He’s not going to hurt me, and we clearly need to talk.”

James just moved over to lean against the wall, crossed his arms and smirked as Cam guided the protesting trio to the door. Once they were gone, Cam turned, jolting when he came face to face with James.

“You can’t—”

“Shhh.” James lifted a hand and gingerly touched Cam’s cheekbone. “Christ, look at you.”

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“And your ribs?” He pulled Cam’s hand and the icepack away before lifting the hem of Cam’s shirt. “Fuck.”

Cam looked down and cringed at the mottled black and blue marring his skin. Then gasped as James’ fingertips moved along his side, prodding gently.

“Don’t think any are broken,” he murmured, resting his palm hotly over the bruising and meeting Cam’s gaze. “You really can’t keep doing this, babe.”

Heart aching at the plea in the other man’s voice, Cam swallowed thickly. “I already told you, I need to do this. Some good has to come out of what happened to me.”

James inhaled deeply then brought his head down, resting his forehead against Cam’s. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Cam knew his friends would be yelling at him, right about now, about how the man had lied—by omission, but it still counted—and left him, breaking his heart. How his approval wasn’t something Cam needed. But despite all that, he found himself wanting it, anyway. And that wasn’t something he was going to examine. At least not tonight.

“Okay,” James said firmly, sliding his hand around to rest on the small of Cam’s back. “But not like this, anymore. You’re going to end up hurt again—or worse—and I can’t…I can’t let that happen. Let me help you.”

Mind racing, wondering how James could help, Cam quit fighting himself and slide his arms around James’ waist and leaned into him.

“Let me help keep you safe,” James whispered against Cam’s temple, lips tickling. “Please, babe.”

Closing his eyes, Cam gave the only answer he could when it came to James.

“Yes.”


Bronwyn Green | Gwendolyn Cease | Siobhan Muir

Wednesday Randomness: Promptly Penned #26

It’s time for another Promptly Penned post. We’re all given the same prompt and see where it takes it. The prompt itself is in italics in the post (normally I bold but apparently that isn’t showing up anymore. 🙁 )

Willa should have known better. She really, really should have. She’d thought throwing a profile up on the dating site would help her meet some guys here. New in town, she’d been lonely. Her job was going all right, she supposed, but she wasn’t really connecting with anyone. Not even on a friendly level, let alone on a romantic one.

She knew some of it was because she was a bit…gun-shy when it came to opening up to anyone, whether they be potential friend or lover. And who could blame her? After the disaster of last time. She’d put herself out there, shared who and what she really was, and she’d lost everyone. And had basically been run out of town. Okay, there hadn’t exactly been flames and pitchforks, but the end result was the same.

So she’d started over, here, and after several months, she’d given in to impulse and had done a stupid thing. Not the stupidest, but definitely high on the list. She’d had more dates than she could keep track of – with dullards, jocks, pretty boys, aggressive asses… The variety had been there, for sure, but not in a good way. And tonight, was just another strike out. This time, a real creeper. Who grew creepier every freaking second. The only thing soothing her, at the moment, was he’d just walked her to her front door.

Not a smart move for the average woman, she supposed, letting a man she didn’t know bring her home, but – Willa ducked her head and smiled as she felt her magic swirl through her body – she was far from average.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, pulling her keys from her purse. She pressed her lips together, loath to lie and say she had a good time.

“Not going to invite me in,” Marcus said, lips quirking into a small smile.

She struggled not to sigh as she unlocked the door and pushed it open. It was a shame – he was quite handsome. If only his personality and the vibe he gave off so strongly matched his looks.

“Not after a first date,” she said quickly a

“Maybe after the next, then?”

The sigh couldn’t be held back, ths time. She didn’t want to be a bitch, but he couldn’t possibly think tonight had gone well, could he? Certainly not second-date well.

“I’m sorry, but -” She struggled to find a nice way to say no fucking way. “I don’t think we really connected, Marcus. Maybe you’ll have better luck with your next match.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” He stepped forward, close enough she could feel his breath on her face. “Don’t think I’ll get luckier than I have tonight.”

Willa called her power, gasping when it didn’t answer, didn’t rise to her command. A cry followed as she was shoved backwards by an invisible force and slammed into the wall of her entry. Marcus stepped over the threshold and closed the door with a wave of his hand.

“Imagine my surprise when I walked into that restaurant and found someone with power as strong as yours.” He hummed happily. “Best match I’ve had yet.”

She shook her head, trying to clear it. “What?”

“Oh, don’t worry, sweet Willa,” he crooned, pressing against her and cupping her face, causing her to whimper slightly. “Shh, shhh, shhhhh. It’s okay. You don’t have to love me. That’s not what I want…though,” he smirked again, “I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

“Wh…wh…what do you want?” she managed to ask, cold settling over her as fear gripped her entire being.

“Your life, your magic… Not to put to fine a point on it, your everything.”


Bronwyn Green | Gwendolyn Cease | Kris Norris
Paige Prince | Siobhan Muir

March 2018 Photo Flash Fiction – “A Reminder”

Hello, all.

It’s time for March’s Photo Flash Fic. It’s a short one from me this month. Set within the world of my serial, Your Lies (feel free to follow the link and read the chapters that are up and the flash fic I’ve written in this world already.) I’ve revisited Kyle, who is the heroine’s bestie though they haven’t seen each other in a while.

“Why don’t you just get that fixed?”

I glanced up from the map and papers I’d been studying. Simmons, the newest recruit the powers that be had saddled me with, pointed at the cracked window.

“Or, fix it yourself? You know…” She wiggled her fingers dramatically. “You’re powerful enough to do it with little effort.”

I rolled my eyes. “Focus. We need to get through this information and—”

“Man, everyone’s heard about you. How quickly you moved up the ranks, the things you can do. I can’t believe they assigned me to you. Everyone is jealous as fuck, let me tell you.”

“Simmons,” I snapped, hands clenched on the table.

“Oh, you can call me Layla,” she said cheerfully. “Is our next assignment at the university? I heard some messed up stuff is happening there. I mean, Maddock Roberts is apparently hooking up with a magic user or a Sympathizer. Don’t know if I believe that… Who would be stupid enough to get involved with the poster boy of the anti-magic crowd?

Delia’s face flashed in my mind, and my magic surged, pushed outward with the force of my anger.

“Anyone who is anyone knows who he is so it’s not like she could claim ignorance. Do you think it’s true? Do you think she’s some kind of do-gooder, trying to reform h— Uh, what’s happening?”

Her face paled as she looked around the room. Everything around us shook—the table skittered across the floor, the raggedy couch and chairs did the same, and the door rattled on its hinges. And the window—the fucking window that started her incessant chattering… The cracks lengthened, webbing out until they hit the frame.

“It’s a reminder,” I bit out, motioning toward it with my chin.

“What does it remind you of?” she said in a near whisper as she stared at the window, wide-eyed.

“Not for me. For everyone else.” I braced my hands on the table, quelling its movement as I leaned forward and waited for her to turn her gaze back toward me. “A reminder to stay focused and not to piss me off. And, Simmons,” I said slowly, “listening to mindless gossip and speculating on something you have no knowledge of…pisses me off.”

“I’m sor-sorry, sir,” she stammered. “It won’t happen again.”

I drew my power back inside and nodded. “See that it doesn’t. Now, let’s get through this new information, shall we?”


Bronwyn Green | Gwendolyn Cease | Kris Norris

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 him 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, 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

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,” Troy 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

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

January 2018 Photo Fic – “Winter”

Happy New Year!

Today is a photo flash fiction – we’ve rounded up 12 images and will be writing something inspired by them…1 a month through the year.

Here’s January’s image:

“Winter”

“Come on, Nic. Look how gorgeous it is!”

I didn’t even look over at my brother. Sitting stubbornly and stiffly in the passenger seat, seatbelt still fastened, I stared out the windshield.

He wasn’t wrong – it was gorgeous. The blanket of white covering the ground was only marred by the tire tracks of another idiot who had ventured out after the snowstorm we’d had the night before. Snow clung to the bare branches of the trees and the wooden fence that lined the tiny country road. Yeah, gorgeous. One might even say picturesque.

But that didn’t sway me – I wasn’t deceived.

“Seriously,” my brother continued, “just a quick walk. It’ll be refreshing.”

I snorted. “Yeah, right. It may be pretty as fuck, but winter is just like the stuck-up popular girls at school.”

“Really?” he drawled.

I could feel his intense stare but kept my gaze focused on the deceptive scene before me. “Yep. Gorgeous enough to take your breath away, but underneath it all, a complete and utter bitch who will only hurt you. And in the end, you’ve only yourself to blame, because deep down, you knew it. You just let yourself get swayed by prettiness.”

“Wow.” A long pause. “Just wow.” The engine roared to life, then he said, “You’re going to die alone, you know that, right?”

I lifted a shoulder lazily. “Yeah, probalby. But I’ll be warm and won’t hate myself.”


I don’t even know… Seriously, blame my sleep-deprived brain for that little nugget. Oh, and the fact I’m in the UP right now – one of the most beautiful places on Earth, IMO, and enduring snowstorms and freezing temps. My feelings for winter may have bled through.

Be sure to check out what the image inspired the other bloggers to write!


Bronwyn Green | Gwendolyn Cease | Kayleigh Jones
Kris Norris | Siobhan Muir