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  Paranormal & Dauntless Romance from Siobhan Muir

#ThursThreads - Tying Tales Together - Week 279

8/24/2017

 
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Welcome back to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked. Today is Thursday and that means it’s time to start flashing! And now we’re in our Fifth year! This is Week 279 of #ThursThreads, the challenge that ties tales together. Want to keep up each week? Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook and the Community on Google Plus.

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 279:

College professor, equality enthusiast, and romance author, Louisa Bacio.

Louisa on Facebook
Louisa on Twitter
Louisa on Goodreads
Louisa on Google Plus

And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

"And maybe we should.”


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!

Siobhan Muir
8/24/2017 09:45:46 am

“Oh, now I see that mind workin’, trying to find a way to let an auld lady down easy, but I also see your sorrow, laddie, and there’s no way to get rid of that by bein’ alone.” She shook her head with a mock scowl. “Ye’ve already been alone too long. Mark my words. It’s time to come back to the livin’, it is.”

He laughed again, but unease slithered through his gut. How could she know?

“I’ll mark your words, ma’am, but here’s what I’ve learned over my time alone. Ye canna make someone love you, even if ye both seem perfect for each other. Livin’ folks don’t work that way.”

Her eyes softened as she cupped his cheek with one gnarled hand. “And ye canna fall in love if ye doona give it a try once in a while.”

“Why is love so important, gran? Not all of us need it.”

“Horseturds!” The woman shook her finger at him. “That’s shite and ye know it.”

He shook his head. “No, I’ve learned love can be poison, enough to walk away. And maybe we should let go of the idea of romantic love. Not everyone needs it.”

“That’s yer hurt talkin’ there. And when has hurt ever spoken the whole truth?”

He opened his mouth to refute her as they cleared the last of the flood zone, but she shook her head.

“Doona answer now until ye think about it. The youngsters always think they know everything.”

@SiobhanMuir
249 ineligible #WIP500 words

Louisa Bacio link
8/25/2017 01:31:43 am

"Horseturds," LOL.

Miranda Kate
8/24/2017 10:13:36 am

Hiding

“Do you think it’s safe yet?” Joris put his eye up to the crack in the wardrobe door trying to see if there was any movement in the bedroom beyond.

“No, we need to give it a bit longer.” Pete was only a year older but he was much wiser.

Joris couldn’t imagine being as knowledgeable or as brave. When they’d heard the noise downstairs he’d known what to do. He’d saved them from another night of beatings. It seemed their drunken father had passed out instead of hunt for them. Or so Joris hoped; he couldn’t hear any snoring yet. Joris imagined him sneaking up the stairs to find them. His heart raced, as did his breathing. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll be okay,” Pete whispered.

“But what if he’s on the landing waiting for us?”

“He can’t get up the stairs without it creaking, not if he’s loaded.”

Joris realised this was true. Their father was never quiet, especially when drunk.

“Do you think Mrs. Travers heard him?” Joris hoped their neighbor might call the police again.

“Maybe, but we can’t count on it.”

“Maybe we should call them ourselves?”

Pete paused before answering.

“It could mean us being taken into care.”

“And maybe we should be.”

“We might be split up or worse ...”

“But we don’t know that?”

Joris could see the phone on the bedside table from their hiding place, but did he dare go out and get it?

Words: 247
@PurpleQueenNL

Silver James link
8/24/2017 11:43:58 am

Roman, feet spread and arms crossed over his massive chest, blocked the doorway as effectively as the Colossus of Rhodes. Not that Verity had ever seen the Colossus of Rhodes but this huge man with his stony face, standing there as still as a statue could be one of the Seven Wonders of the World. He looked maybe thirty-five but he carried the weight of the ages on his shoulders and in his eyes, making him seem ancient.

She glanced down, well aware that she’d never win a staring contest with him. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this,” she mumbled to her feet.

“And maybe we should.”

Verity jerked, her body’s visceral reaction to that deep voice. Gumption. She needed to find some. She channeled her inner Baba Rawnie. The old gypsy woman who’d raised her had had plenty. “This doesn’t concern you and it’s none of your business.”

Roman leaned down—waaaay down—until they were nose-to-nose. “If it concerns you, it *is* my business.”

Silver light flashed in his eyes and for the first time since he helped her after those thugs attacked her in Jackson Square, she was afraid of him. Baba Rawnie’s voice whispered in her memory and Verity sketched a sign in the air. Roman didn’t even blink. No one should have been impervious to that magic.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

“Wrong question,” he grated out.

Her whole body shook. “What are you?”

“Your worst nightmare, or your salvation. You pick.”
***
250 #TeamRoman words
@SilverJames_

Mark A Morris link
8/24/2017 11:56:39 am

The basilisk’s gaze swept across the courtyard, slowing as a flight of pigeons broke cover. They dropped to the ground and shattered; heads and wings breaking loose from their bodies.

“It knows we’re here. We’re finished.” Ms Ward tugged at my sleeve, pulling me deeper into the little cover we had.

I ducked my head further into my shoulders, my neck disappearing. I wondered if I’d feel anything if it saw me. The birds had frozen as though caught by a strobe-light: flapping through the air one moment, broken rubble the next.

Maybe they’d not suffered. I could only hope.

The school behind us was still silent, the boys and girls all still asleep. We’d been taking advantage of the dorms being quiet, Ms Ward and I, as we had each night this week. The children always slept soundly after their feastings: each one due to be a future king or queen. They already lived rich lives and enjoyed their privileges and subsequently the whole of the staff suffered. There was nothing so demanding as a royal child, I’d learned.

“We could climb back into your room.” I nodded toward the open window. “We could raise the alarm. Get more help.” The floating curtain beckoned us.

“We can’t.” Ms Ward’s voice hardened, becoming flinty. “Suppose it finds someone else before we can wake a magician. They’d have no chance.”

“And maybe we should,” I said, urging her back along the balcony. “I’ve had an idea. A really good one.”

249 ideas to reflect upon
twothirdsrasta.blogspot.co.uk

Sheilagh Lee
8/24/2017 02:32:47 pm

"Who is that with mom?" "Callum McGregor, mom's old fiance." James answered, "They were engaged in college but broke up." " He's probably a cretin and maybe we should interupt,"I insisted. "Look at them Kirsty, Mom hasn't laughed or smiled this much since dad died." "He's probably after the millions dad left her." " I googled; he's a doctor of opthomology, is single, debt free and owns his five million dollar home outright." "Very thorough." " Give this guy a chance and if mom's happy make him family". " For a minute there you sounded like dad." "He gave your husband,Jeff a chance. I'd like to think Dad sent Callum to make mom happy again." I had to agree mom hadn't been so happy in a long time. I'd accept him for now but woe betide him if he hurt her I'd make him pay. @SweetSheil 250 words

Bill Engleson link
8/24/2017 03:44:40 pm

Jilly

I think it started long before she and Harley married. I’d known Jilly forever. We grew up together. Until she hooked up with Harley, she had drifted along, a leaf in stream, eh. Never seemed interested in settling down, coming ashore. But he changed that. Changed her. He was her torch. He lit her aflame.

But it wasn’t perfect.

Sometimes he’d be on the road four, five days at a time and we could see her spiral down, hear that she’d stay in bed ‘til noon, kids having to get themselves up, crawling outta bed which they were never all that good at, making their own breakfast, heading out to Sprague’s Corner to catch the school bus.

I was working then at Woolworths but every so often, I’d drive out to their place and try to pump Jilly up.

That was another thing. Jilly grew up a town girl so living a dozen miles out in the tulies, far from what she was used to, was fuel to the fire.

It was always the same conversation, we’d have. I’d say, “It’s not gonna change, Jilly. That’s how he earns his living. He’s a long-haul trucker. You knew that.”

And she’d agree. “Yeah, but he won’t even look at a regular nine to five.”

She was always looking for something else. “And maybe we should do this,” or “Maybe we should do that.”

Always maybes.

One day she told me, “Maybe I should just leave.”

So, I wasn’t surprized, eh.

250 reasons why things don't work out
@billmelaterplea

Cara Michaels link
8/24/2017 05:53:42 pm

“A duet?”

“Mhm,” Ry hummed. “I heard you during our break. The crowd loves you.”

No hardship there, he thought, committing every inch of Ava’s sweet body to memory. He suspected her songs would haunt him long after tonight.

“The crowd loves you, too,” Ava said. “No one’s saying they have to love us at the same time.”

She danced on her feet, an anxious little shuffle.

“Do I make you nervous, angel?” The idea shot a purely masculine thrill through him. He shifted to his side, hiding a necessary adjustment to his dick.

“What?” Her electric blue eyes rolled up to meet his. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Well, I know it ain’t the crowd. And you’re a pro at your job.” He reached out to tug gently at one honey blonde curl, coiling it around his finger. “That leaves me.”

“You think pretty highly of yourself, mister.”

“I promise I’m too busy thinking of you, Ava.”

She swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing as he closed the distance between them.

“C’mon, angel,” he murmured. “Play with me.”

Her lips parted on the tiniest gasp, and it was sayonara comfort, his jeans suddenly tight enough to strangle his dick. Oh, fuck yeah, his angel had a dirty mind.

“Maybe—no, we shouldn’t,” she said softly.

“And maybe we should.” He had to lean down to whisper the words in her ear.

She panted softly as he curled his hands around her hips and reeled her in.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “We absolutely should.”

@caramichaels
250 WIPish words

melissa
8/24/2017 07:06:26 pm

How did this happen?


The infamous words of my friend Dani is the reason I am here. I am a homebody, quiet and an introvert. I really wasn't interested in going and since she gets a little...adventurous when not at home. I said “no we shouldn't”, her response "and maybe we should".
I decided I had to go or she would do something she may regret. Three hours later, I'll admit it she was right, going into that bar was fun, I let go and finally enjoyed myself and I wasn't the one supervising others. I was having fun. And I was meeting people, and enjoying myself.
And maybe we should...

Siobhan Muir
8/24/2017 07:46:41 pm

Adding for Melissa Bennett
112 words
mel_luan@hotmail.com

Siobhan Muir
8/24/2017 08:03:41 pm

#ThursThreads is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to catch you next week.


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    About Me

    Siobhan Muir lives in Cheyenne, Wyoming, and writes kick-ass adventure with hot sex for men and women to enjoy. She believes in happily-ever-after, redemption, and communication, all of which you'll find in her romance stories of all genres.

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