September 2018 Song Fic – “Need the Sun to Break” (Dark of Morning lyrics) – James Bay

This month’s song is James Bay’s “Need the Sun to Break”.

Going off the chorus this time around:

I need the sun to break, you’ve woken up my heart
I’m shaking, all my luck could change
Been in the dark for weeks and I’ve realized you’re all I need
And I hope that I’m not too late,
I hope I’m not too late

This is gonna be a short one… Mostly due to the fact I’m a dirty procrastinator, and I have to get up early to run hubs to the airpot…and I desperately need sleep. LOL

So, here we go…


After the door closed and silence fell, I moved over to the coffee table and sat down facing the couch and the man stretched out on it. Exhaustion weighed heavily, but I couldn’t think of sleep. Not now.

I sighed and reached out to take Cam’s hand, cradling it between mine. This wasn’t how I expected our reunion to go. Oh, I hadn’t expected anything to go smoothly. I’m not an idiot. I’d imagined yelling, slammed doors, tense talks… And I’d hoped it would end with us back together. Hoped, not counted on.

Of course, I hadn’t expected to come back and find Cam in the middle of a shitstorm that defied all explanation. Now, my main focus wasn’t repairing the relationship I’d spectacularly ruined. It was keeping this man safe, keeping him alive.

Right now, though, the only thing I could do was wait for him to wake up. And hope he could fill in the blanks of what I already knew about his abduction, captivity, and what had happened since. And clue me in on how the fuck he was able to do what I’d seen him do earlier.

I leaned forward and brought his hand to my lips. Pressing my lips to his knuckles, I closed my eyes. After all that, we could figure us out. If there was an us… Until then, I could only hope, as I had been for months, that I wasn’t too late.


Bronwyn Green | Gwendolyn Cease | Kris Norris

Wednesday Randomness: Promptly Penned #32

It’s time for September’s Promptly Penned. This month’s prompt is: You’re in an interrogation room. A man walks in and throws a bunch of photographs on the table in front of you. The photos are old and were taken at different points in history. You’re in each one. He demands to know who you are.

This was the perfect prompt to fit into my Albion’s Circle series. So, here we go.


~Merlin~

Eyes closed, I focused on my breathing. It was over, finally. I’d spent the last week cleaning up Mordred’s mess. Now, I could rest easily that nothing with his taint remained or influenced anyone or anything.

Of course, now that it was over, that meant I was alone. And nothing could distract me from that cruel fact. My chest ached as I drew in another long breath. It wasn’t the first time, and likely wouldn’t be the last. But I’d hoped. Even knowing, accepting, that we couldn’t come out of the ages old battle with Mordred without casualties, I’d still hoped and prayed that someone would be left behind with me. While preparing for the opposite.

But even preparing didn’t diminish the overwhelming press of anger and grief. Yes, we had prevailed—Mordred was defeated, again, this time around—but Annwyl was still lost. And Arthur…Morgana…the knights. I wouldn’t see them again until the next life. All I could do now was wait. And I hated every second of it.

“Mr. Eliad, thank you for coming in. I’m Detective Andrews.”

I opened my eyes, watching the tall, fair-haired man enter and close the door behind him. “You’re welcome, though I was hardly given a choice, detective.”

“Well,” he lifted one shoulder as he sat across from me, “thank you for coming in so calmly, then.”

“Mm hmm.” I folded my hands and rested them on the metal table and straightened in the less-than-comfortable chair. “Perhaps you could let me know what this is about?”

“You were seen near the site of the explosion in the warehouse district last week.” When I didn’t answer, he sighed and laid the folder he held on the surface between us. He withdrew a couple of photos and set them, one by one, in front of me. “You were caught on camera. You look injured, covered in dirt or soot.”

I glanced down at the pictures. Though grainy, they were clearly of me. And certainly not at my best. I met his gaze and lifted a brow, remaining silent.

“Could you tell me what you were doing in the area?” he asked.

“Just walking around.”

“Really?” He snorted. “You just happened to walking around an area that had practically been leveled, looking like you’d barely made it out of said area?”

“Yep.”

“Why were you so dirty, then? You strike me as a fairly well-kept person.” He gestured towards the clothing I currently wore then tapped one of the photos. “Nothing like this.”

“I’d been gardening before my walk. It’s messy work.” I couldn’t hold back the smirk curving my mouth.

“Messy work?” He pursed his lips then nodded. Opening the folder, he continued, “I did some digging and found that you often find yourself around ‘messy work’. Nearby the wreckage of another explosion, the fallout of an earthquake that decimated half a city out west, evacuating another city from a horrendous flood…” As he spoke, he flipped picture after picture toward me.

I lifted one, stared at my own face—filthy, grief-stricken, exhausted. This photo was a copy of a one from decades ago. This was more than just a little digging, and something this detective—or anyone else—shouldn’t have access to.

“Where did you get these?” I demanded, voice soft and steady.

“That’s not important. What I want to know is how you’re in all these photos—because as impossible as it seems, they’re all of you! What did you have to do with the explosions last week? Good men and women died, and I want answers!” He slapped a palm on the stack of photos…and looked vaguely disappointed when I didn’t jump or outwardly react. “Mr. Eliad, you need to start talking. The truth now, not some inane tale of gardening and walks.”

“The truth?” I laughed harshly. “Okay, the truth is my name isn’t Eliad. I just took that name this time around. My first name is Merlin, though—I bet that seemed odd to you, right? Not exactly a common name, nowadays. Well, I wasn’t named for the famous wizard in all the stories. I am him. I am King Arthur’s Magical—yes, the King Arthur. And the truth that you want so desperately is nothing like those stories, which for the most part are ridiculous, and I had a hell of a fun time making them up.

“I, along with my king and others, are brought back to fight Mordred—another familiar name, yes?—and save this wretched Earth and its people, time and time again. That was what was happening last week, and that was just the final battle. This time, we’ve been fighting for months, and now, I am tired. I’ve lost people, as well, Detective Andrews, and now that the mission is complete, I would like my time to remember and grieve for those lost…including those good men and women you mentioned.”

“You’ve got to be—”

I waved a hand between us, and he froze. Rubbing my aching temples, I stared down at the photos. “Though it seems I’m not done cleaning up quite yet. Where did you get these photos?”

“They were mailed to me,” he responded woodenly.

“All of them? Even the ones from last week?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know who sent them?”

“No.” He shook his head. “They were in large envelope. There was no note, no return address. The lab wasn’t able to find any fingerprints on the envelope or the photos so it was all a dead end.”

“For you, maybe,” I murmured. “Do you have the envelope? The original photos you received?”

“Yes, in evidence.”

“Go get them, please.”

Without a word, he stood and left the room. I stacked the photos neatly and closed them back into the folder, annoyance filling me at the inconvenience of all of this. When Detective Andrews came back in, he immediately handed me the evidence bag containing the envelope and photos. I tucked that into the folder, as well, then pushed to my feet, taking all of it with me. I met the other man’s gaze and sighed.

“You seem like a good cop, following any lead. Unfortunately, this is one case that the truth isn’t going to be revealed. Can’t be.” I reached up and touched his forehead, muttering the memory spell quickly. “Forget the photos; they don’t exist. I came in today to tell you what I saw when I was out for a walk the night of the explosion.”

I dropped my hand and cleared my throat. Andrews blinked several times then took a step back, opening the door for me.

“Thank you again, Mr. Eliad, for coming in. We appreciate your help in the matter.”

“Of course.” I strode out the room, but before leaving the building, I went to bullpen and asked where Detective Andrews’ desk was. Then, walking by it on my way out, I spoke the spell that would erase any mention of me from the good detective’s notes—both written and on his computer.

I tightened my grip on the folder as I stepped into the bright sunlight. I needed to get back home and figure out who had sent these in.

It wasn’t quite over. The mess wasn’t completely cleaned up. My grief would wait…my ever-patient companion.


Bronwyn Green | Gwendolyn Cease | Kris Norris | Siobhan Muir

September 2018 Photo Flash Fiction

Hello, all! I hope everyone had a wonderful weekend. It’s time for another photo flash fic. This is the photo we’re working with today.

Tuning out the grumbling complaints coming from the backseat, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. And held for several long seconds before slowly releasing.

She hated this day, this trip, this…this annual pilgrimage. So much. More than the kids behind her—even if they couldn’t imagine that—and for very, very different reasons.

She startled, eyes flying open as a warm, heavy hand settled on her thigh. Glancing over, she wondered what was going through his mind. He didn’t look at her, keeping focused on the road ahead, but his fingers pressed a bit more firmly, a silent message that he knew. He knew she was hurting. He knew she hated this. And he knew how important this was for all of them.

Eyes burning, she laid a hand over his, and he immediately turned his palm up to nestle against hers as their fingers intertwined.

They didn’t speak, though, and even the kids quieted, as they drew approached their destination. The silence was oppressive as the engine was shut off, and all of them just sat a moment.

“Come on.”

The hushed words from the driver’s seat spurred everyone into motion. She was the last one out, needing another couple moments to compose herself. Later, she could cry. Would cry. In the dark, wrapped in his arms, she would let go, and he would take it, like he always did.

She got out of the car and followed her family. Despite the heaviness over her, her lips quirked up slightly as she took in the sight of the tall, handsome figure of her husband, with their three children

“Where’s Mama?”

Her youngest daughter’s words floated on the air, and she quickened her stride so she could catch up.

“I’m here, baby.” She combed her fingers through the soft blonde curls as they continued.

Her breath caught as they rounded the corner. No matter how many times they came, no matter how many times she saw, she didn’t think she’d ever get over the horror that filled her every time.

The destruction before them… What had led to it… She trembled, and she couldn’t stop the tears that escaped.

“God,” her daughter—their oldest—huffed. “I don’t know why we have to be here. Every stupid year. Not like anything changes. Why couldn’t I have stayed home? This is so dumb.”

“We come to remember. Remember what happened, and what could happen again. And to remember those who were lost.” She spoke slowly, eyes still on the hollowed-out buildings mind on all the lives destroyed. Then, cutting her gaze to her daughter, who stared at her with eyes just like her father, she hardened her voice. “And to be grateful. Because of them, we’re free.”

“Mom—”

“Before all this,” she waved a hand around, “you would have to hide who you are. You wouldn’t have been free to be you. Your choice would have been to hide or to be persecuted. Or killed. Remember that when you think this is stupid.”

She swallowed thickly and walked a few feet away, closing her eyes against the tears, chest aching horribly. She needed to get it together. Falling apart wasn’t an option. Later, she reminded herself again. Not now, not when she could sense others coming—to also pay their respects and remember.

A soft caress on her cheek and a sweet smell pulled her out of her thoughts. She opened her eyes to find a bright daisy hovering in the air in front of her. She turned her head to watch as her eldest daughter, hand outstretched, lower lip caught between her teeth, manipulate the flower until it was tucked behind her mother’s ear.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”


Bronwyn Green | Gwendolyn Cease | Kris Norris | Siobhan Muir

Wednesday Randomess: Top 10 Places I Want to See Before I Die

Time for another Top 10! This is going to be short and sweet…’cause words are actually flowing right now, so I’m going to get back to it!

So, in no particular order, here are the top ten places I want to see before I die…


Bronwyn Green | Gwendolyn Cease | Kris Norris | Siohbhan Muir 

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: Top Ten – Road Trip Essentials

1 – Money. No brainer, right? For gas, snacks, drinks, any fun things you want.

2 – Sunglasses. A huge must for me.

3 – Mountain Dew. I have caffeine needs, okay? I like coffee just fine but I’d be stopping at every rest area and gas station along the way if I drank that much coffee.

4 – Google Maps. (or any map – app or physical) So I make it to my destination.

5 – Snacks. I go for the crunchy, salty goodness, every time.

6 – Music. I rely heavily on my Spotify app during road trips. Gotta have my playlists!

7 – A fully functional spare tire (and the knowledge to remove the flat and put the spare on LOL)

8 – Hand sanitizer. Because do NOT trust that a roadside rest area will have any, my friends.

9 – Car charger for phone. Because, well, Google Maps and Spotify won’t do me much good without the charger.

10 – Company. Not that I haven’t taken road trips on my own, but when I’m on my own, I’m usually talking to somone on the phone (hands-free of course!) I love my “me time” but on a road trip? Need some company and conversation.


Bronwyn Green | Kris Norris

Wednesday Randomness: Top 10 – Best Things in Life

It’s time for another Top 10. This week, we’re talking aobut the Best Things in Life. So, in no particular order:

Full English

Sleeping In

A Good Book

An Ice Cold Cider

Doctors Who Listen

Medications That Work

Fan Fiction

When the Story is Flowing

Awesome Friends

My Family


Bronwyn Green | Gwendolyn Cease | Kris Norris
Siobhan Muir | Torrance Sené

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