Week 214 of #ThursThreads had many fantastic tales. I'm honored to see all of the returning writers come to tie a tale. Thank you for tying your tales. Here's to several more years of flash. Great thanks to Tina Glasneck for judging this week. Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on FB to keep up with news, etc.

Entries:

• Bill Engleson | @billmelaterplea
• Sheilagh Lee | @SweetSheil
• Siobhan Muir | @SiobhanMuir
• Anne Chowdhury | @TwiAddictAnne
• Silver James | @SilverJames_
• Katheryn J. Avila | @katheryn_avila
• Louisa Bacio | @Lousiabacio
• Kelly Heinen | @Aightball
• Lizzie Koch | @Lizzie_Koch
• Barbe Crabtree | @ComeOnPeopl
• Cara Michaels | @caramichaels

Tina says: Thanks for this wonderful opportunity, and congratulations to everyone that participated! I loved your stories. Reading your words has been a great honor.

Winners Announcement:

Honorable Mentions

Kel Heinen | @Aightball
Tina says: I loved this story -- first the dad who took the time to want to see his daughter's happy. The great job of changing it from what the reader would expect, a mother intervening between siblings, and showing a father's perspective was wonderful. It is a story I could imagine happening in my front yard, and I found it truly touching. An enjoyable and allover delightful read, and I can't wait to read more. Splendid!

Cara Michaels | @caramichaels
Tina says: This had such great interaction between the characters. The nuances that were touched read like a great sitcom. As a reader, I could feel the tension, and corresponding hostile response to the questions (coming from Richmond and being a hobby genealogist, there is nothing like getting someone's panties in a bunch then by bringing up one's personal history). I was able to connect with the tale and enjoy it. Great job!

The Struggling Artist

Sweat ran down his spine, his body glistening with every aggressive stroke of the brush. Paint bled into the walls, unable to cover the memory he desperately wanted to erase. Buckets and gallons of paint seeped into his secret but still he continued, brush after brush as bristles frayed like his temper.

But the slate had to be clean, the walls bare, fresh and ready for his next work of art; always a blank canvas to open his mind and explore his demons. That’s what his therapist said, release his demons through his art. But he was never satisfied. The demons kept talking to him, whispering their loathing, mocking his aspirations.

At last, he could do no more. The unblemished white canvas was ready. His muse was ready. She sat on a lone wooden chair in the sparse room as he held his large palette, walking around her, inhaling her scent, studying her naked curves. He ran his fingers through her long golden hair, fanning out the strands around her milky shoulders.

There were no words as he began his art, releasing the jagged knife from under his palette, spraying his canvas in rich red as the demons cheered his work, silencing her gurgled screams. For now, his art briefly released him, his art lived as he watched crimson drip down the walls before it stopped and died.

Congratulations Winner Lizzie, Kel, and Cara! Don't forget to claim your badges and display them with pride. You certainly earned it!

Pass on the great news on Twitter, Facebook, Google Plus, shiny mirrors, Morse Code, and signal flags. Check out all the original tales HERE. Thanks for stopping by and happy reading! :)

Welcome back to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked. Today is Thursday and that means it’s time to start flashing! This is Week 214 of #ThursThreads, the challenge that ties tales together. Want to keep up each week? Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook.

Need the rules? Read on.

Here's how it works:

• The prompt is a line from the previous week's winning tale.
• The prompt can appear ANYWHERE in your story and is included in your word count.
• The prompt must be used as is. It can be split, but no intervening words can be inserted or tenses changed.

 
Rules to the Game:

• This is a Flash Fiction challenge, which means your story must be a minimum of 100 words, maximum of 250.
• The story must be new writing, not a snippet from something published elsewhere with the prompt added.
• Incorporate the prompt anywhere into your story (included in your word count).
• Post your story in the comments section of this post
• Include your word count (or be excluded from judging)
• Include your Twitter handle or email (so we know how to find you)
• The challenge is open 7 AM to 8 PM Mountain Time
• The winner will be announced on Friday, depending on how early the judge gets up.

 
How it benefits you:

• You get a nifty cool badge to display on your blog or site (because we're all about promotion - you know you are!)
• You get instant recognition of your writing prowess on this blog!
• Your writing colleagues shall announce and proclaim your greatness on Facebook, Twitter, and Google Plus, etc.

Our Judge for Week 214:

World traveler, theologist, and romantic suspense author, Tina Glasneck.

Tina on Facebook
Tina on Twitter
Tina on Goodreads
Tina on Google Plus

And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

"Buckets and gallons."

All stories written herein are the property (both intellectual and physical) of the authors. Now, away with you, Flash Fiction Fanatics, and show us your #ThursThreads. Good luck!

Welcome to Mid Week Tease hosted by Angelica Dawson! Wild Words Wednesday is the same thing, just the Muir flavor for it. :D

The purpose here is to spotlight a few lines or a few paragraphs from a new release or backlisted title. This way my readers get to sample some delicious snippets and I'll do my best to tease, titillate and tantalize you into the weekend.

Today I'm teasing with my new release. Well, it's actually a re-release of HER DEVOTED VAMPIRE, a revised and expanded edition of an older story. Bridget Shanahan was mugged and stabbed, so Fredrick brought her home and is trying to explain that neither of them are human. It's not going well.

“Focus, Mr. MacGregor. You brought me here, and I wake up to find myself naked with a stranger asking me how I can heal like…like—”

“Like the Elder Races.”

Bridget blinked. “The what?” Why does that sound familiar?

“Elder Races, vampires and werewolves.”

Okay, this guy has completely lost his mind.

She blinked at him. His lips tightened, and he shook his head with a sigh before he rose and strode across the room to a small bureau. She watched his ass the whole way, trying not to appreciate how well his jeans fit. His legs weren’t bad, either.

Now who needs to focus?

She missed what he’d picked up, but caught sight of her pocketknife when he flipped open the longest blade and held it against his palm. Before she could say anything, he dragged the blade across the flesh of his hand.

“What are you—?”

He hissed in pain, but very little blood flowed from his palm. The wound zipped itself together like a Ziploc bag. Bridget gaped at his hand, wondering when she’d entered the Twilight Zone. The old 50s show would have explained everything, but when he snapped the pocketknife closed, her feelings of unease settled happily into her guts along with reality.

Who is this guy? Why did she feel this overwhelming attraction for him? And why the hell didn’t he bleed when cut? No one’s skin zipped itself together. If that was the case, there’d be thousands of doctors out of work.

“Who are you?” She shrank from him.

“I told you that before.” He causally set the knife aside. “My name is Fredrick MacGregor.”

“Okay, then, Mr. Obtuse, maybe a better question should be what are you?”

“You’re right. That is a better question.” Fredrick offered her a mischievous smile, but showed no teeth. “I’m a Noctivenator, commonly referred to as vampires, one of the Elder Races. What I’m less sure of and far more curious about is what you are.”

“Nocti-what?”

“Noctivenitor, currently clanless, but still respected among the Clans.” He gave her a sweeping bow straight out of an Errol Flynn movie.

This guy is completely delusional.

“And you, Ms. Shanahan? What are you?”

“What I am is pissed off and wondering where the hell my clothes are.”

Her statement came out more of a snarl than conversation, but he remained unmoved. That just pissed her off more, and she welcomed it. Being mad was preferable to being scared, and right now, the crazy man whose hand didn’t bleed scared her spitless.

Plus he thinks he’s a vampire.

If you'd like a copy of Her Devoted Vampire, you can find it here:
Amazon | Smashwords

Thanks for stopping by and follow the links below to other great teases...