You accept that failure is death? Flashing Friday #500words #mmromance #fairytale #flashfiction

Welcome back friends! It's Friday, and on Friday we flash. Today's flash took an unexpected turn, and I'm going to have to confess, I love it. I'm making plans to expand this into a full fledged fairy tale sometime in the future!

If you like flashing, pleas do drop by Havan's Heavenly Haven to visit my cohort in crime this morning!

Flash Fiction May #4

At Your Service

“If Sir will enter.” The butler indicated an ornately carved door.

Spencer kept his back straight and his jaw squared as he followed the direction. Show no weakness. Be strong. His father’s advice rang in his ears. He resisted the urge to straighten his jacket, tweak his trousers into place.

Channeling calm, he marched down the velvet carpet. Halfway, he snuck a peek to the left. His breath caught in his throat and his heart tripped, then vaulted into overdrive. The caged man was stunning, his limbs slender and well muscled, his  face… Oh God. His jaw was lean and clean shaven, his hair a silky straight fall of gold… his eyes though… His eyes were deep, clear pools of blue. So tranquil Spencer was certain he could stare into them forever.

“Sir Spencer Overburton of Cliproot Pass.” The booming voice startled him into paying attention to what he was doing.

A well dressed man appeared from the left. “State your business.” At his side was a scribe, who held an inked quill over a thick volume.

His tongue swelled, his mouth dried. The words he’d rehearsed in the carriage all the way over fled. “H-h-h--- Marriage.” He dragged in a deep breath, his eyes stung in humiliation. He could sense the courtiers… the other claimants in the background tittering over his lack of presence. “Proclamation. I… offer myself.”

“You will undertake the quest?”

“I… yes.”

“You accept that failure is death?”

He found his voice, finally, cast an admiring glance at the caged Prince. “The prize is worthy of the risk.”

Another man stepped forward, bowed obsequiously. “Beg pardon, liege. But this is Cliproot’s sole son and heir. Surely his family lineage dictates a different sort of marriage?”

Spencer intervened hastily. “My father has avowed himself willing to declare my cousin Niall heir in my place.”

“Then he is eligible.” The scribe scrawled his name in the book, sprinkled it with dust, and then slammed it shut.

“So be it.” The man he’d taken for a courtier gazed sternly upon Spencer. “Return from the dragon’s lair with the key to the cage, and my son will become your spouse, making you Prince of the realm and heir to the kingdom. Fail… forfeit your life to the dragon or the palace guard.”

“I will retrieve the key or die in the attempt.” His gaze roamed to the naked Prince. To call such beauty his own… Swallowing, he bowed deeply to the man he now recognized as King.

“The crown names Spencer Overburton of Cliproot Pass as affianced of Prince Gorin. Tonight we celebrate…”

The crowd responded with a mixture of jeers and cheers, but their noise faded in the background as Spencer met his prince’s eyes. What he saw there caused an ache in his heart like Spencer had never felt before. The blue depths were no longer tranquil- they were such a tormented mixture of hope and despair… he vowed then and there that the dragon’s days were numbered.

Retirement #flashfiction #500words #mmromance

Hello there! Here it is Friday already and I've been caught! I promise you, I wasn't slacking. I wrote this last week, had it all ready to go then... forgot all about it! Well, never mind my excuses. If you want a flash with your coffee... read on! Oh, and this week... my BFF and Muse, Havan Fellows is joining me, so click on over to her Haven and check out another lovely mm flash when you're done!

Flash Fiction May #1 Man in Hat Reading Paper (500 words)

Zane knew he’d be there. Every weekday morning he came to the park, sat in the pavilion, read his paper and drank his coffee.  Zane wished he could say that Joss Whitley Cavanaugh came to the park because of him, but the truth was that Joss had been visiting Camden Park  probably for more years than Zane had been alive.

“If you walk out that door, then don’t bother coming back.”

The angry words burned at the back of his mind. They’d spurred him on for years, from job to job, city to city, as he’d traded in his thrift shop six string for a shiny new Gibson, and his old volkswagen for a speedy corvette. From being a ten spot away from arrest on vagrancy charges to bank accounts overflowing, he’d used those words to forge success, climbing his way straight to the top of the music charts, into the hearts of millions of loyal fans.

All because of his own empty heart…

Leaving the sidewalk behind he cut across the grass, and emptiness began to fill, Certainty had brought him here… fifteen years of growing accustomed to the idea that Joss had thrown Zane out for his own good had eroded the anger of his youth, restored the adoration he’d felt for the older man since they’d first met.

He stumbled to a halt in the grass, heart hammering in the back of his throat. Lyrics floated through his brain… snatches of words and melodies that had made him millions, all about this man, half about this moment. “Joss.” The single word hurt to say, so full was it of emotion.

The older man looked up… and a slight smile chased the loneliness his  image away. “Zane. Are you ready to go home?” He asked, as though Zane had been gone twenty minutes rather than twenty years.

“I’m retired.” Zane yearned to yank that newspaper away, to throw himself, messenger bag, guitar case and all into his lover’s arms.

The newspaper rattled as Joss’s hands shook. “Me too.” His smile faded. “I’m sorry for what I did. Well, not what I did, but the way I did it.”

“I’m not.” Zane shook his head. “Believe it or not, the anger I felt fueled the first three albums. I would never have gotten on stage anywhere but down at Riley’s Bar if you hadn’t.”

“I know… I felt it every time I heard a Zany Boys song on the radio. I knew… or hoped, when the songs lost the anger, that you’d come around, but you still never called.”

“I’m a stubborn ass.” Zane admitted, sinking to one knee next to the love of his life. “I was young and content to be loved…”

“I do love you.” Joss interrupted, dropping the newspaper and caressing Zane’s cheek.

“And I you.”

“I hoped. This last album… the dedication… the ballad that made me cry.”

“For you. All of them… every song I ever sang I sang for you, to you.”

Have the witch's potions been effective? #flashfiction #mmromance #500words

This picture crossed my newsfeed on Pinterest... I was hooked. I'm sure he's a fabulous model, but I think he'd make an even better wizard. Combine that with Love Potion #9, which I could not get out of my head, and... 

Here you are. A bit of a flash to go with your cup of coffee today. 

                   The Wizard of Gorham Alley

“You again?” Hair tickled its way across his shoulder as Raven tipped his head and surveyed the man blocking his doorway. “Sorry, I’m all out of eel’s tongue. You’ll have to face the taverns on your own.”

“That’s not what I’m here for.” Seth Goran entered the shop, with a swift, cautious backward glance before closing the door. Snick. The deadbolt shot home.

Raven’s brows rose. He removed his hat and replaced on the peg beside the apothecary cabinet. Crossing his arms, he leaned on the work table, waiting.

To his amusement, Seth pulled down the moonshade over the shop’s round window, even flipped back the curtain that led to Raven’s tiny living quarters.

“Can I help you?” He’d had enough of Seth’s odd behavior. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure we’re alone.” The heavy black velvet curtain fell into place as Seth turned to Raven, his expression intent, gaze hot.

Oxygen vanished from the room. Raven’s throat tightened, his mouth dried. His heart pounded a frantic rhythm. “Seth…” Fear tingled his fingertips; power buzzed at the base of his skull with no outlet, no ingredients to push it into.

Seth stalked forward. Raven shrank back until the apothecary cabinet was a flat line at his back.   A hanging bunch dried lavender caught in his hair. Still Seth crowded closer, until Raven heard the golden god’s heart beat over his own. The heat of the swordsman’s body engulfed Raven…

Lust.

Fire.

Love.

His cock stiffened, mind scrambled. “I…” Fear, inadequate at quenching the flames Seth aroused, made him stutter. “I…”

“I’ve come here every Friday for how long?” Seth bent closer, making Raven feel small.

“S...six weeks.” He’d grown to anticipate and dread the man’s visits. “Six potions…” He never believed this man needed the love potions he demanded, but Grandmother taught him to give the customer what they wanted, be it a love potion for the handsomest man in the garrison, or a beauty cream for the fairest maiden in the kingdom.

Give them what they ask for, because sometimes all they really need is confidence.

“That’s right.” Seth stood so close his breath stirred the strands of Raven’s hair, scalding his ear. “And in six weeks… you haven’t wondered if those potions were effective?”

“I…” A wet, hot tongue licked its way over his cheek. Hot breath seared his parted lips.

Seth seized upon his his vulnerability, stole a kiss that found its way straight to Raven’s soul. The attraction he’d fought exploded; he was fully hard, throbbing with need for release before Seth’s mouth retreated.

“But… I didn’t really need them to, did I?” Seth murmured, sliding his fingers through Raven’s hair, tipping his head up and peering into his eyes.

Raven blinked, “No?” Good thing too, because the tincture of eel tongue and onion with raw sugar and herbs wasn’t good for much more than a nourishing broth. “Surely you’ve guessed by now that the potion was an excuse?”

“You…”

“Do I still need it?”

What Can You Do With 500 Words? Hanging Out With Cassidy

Welcome back! Today We're flashing to the tune of 500 Words...

 Hanging Out With Cassidy

The night reeked of overwhelmingly sweet jacaranda trees. I took a drag on the clove cigarette, then passed it to Cassidy. I imagined his lips around the thin tube, right where mine had been. Would he feel the warmth of my mouth, the need that pulsed through me with slow, relentless intensity? When he passed the cigarette back, would I be able to taste him on it? I didn't dare dwell on the thought.

We waited for the milling crowd outside the theater to depart so we could make our way over the cobblestoned plaza to the dimly lit parking lot and my 1951 Cadillac convertible. The big old boat of a car had wide comfortable seats guaranteed to give anyone ideas.

I relaxed against the wall, rubbing my shoulders to scratch a mostly imaginary itch.  Cassidy stood quietly as usual, something I liked very much about him. In his company I found an inner peace the rest of the world seemed determined to destroy. We'd hung out a lot this summer, and not just because our mom's were close friends.

"That sucked."  

"Phft." I nodded. The action movie we'd watched scored rave reviews from everyone. We seemed to be the only ones who thought it was a farce. "You got that right. Coffee?" I suggested as casually as I could, hoping he wouldn't notice my breath catching on the last word. I stared straight ahead, watching the stream of people exiting the theater slow to a trickle.

"Nah." He threw his head back and stared up at the sky. I risked a glance at him out the corner of my eye. He skin was pale in the moonlight, his lips a slash of dark color. Thin white fingers tucked strands of dark hair behind his ear.  I detected a faint tremor in those fingers. I know I didn't imagine the way his throat worked as he swallowed.

I caught myself reaching out to reassure him, about what I didn't know, I just knew I didn't like his expression, the way it appeared he had to work up courage to speak to me. Cold chills raced down my spine despite the sultry night heat. Had I given myself away?

"Seth, we have to talk. I can't keep doing this with you."

Oh God. I had. He knew. "Don't. It doesn’t mean anything. I'll get over it, we can just be friends."

His head whipped around, eyes wide dark pools of …something hot and liquid and brain stealing. Fuck. "I have to ask. Seth, we've been hanging out all summer. Is this going anywhere? I keep thinking you're shy, and you'll make your move, then that I made a mistake, that I'm not seeing what I think when I look at you, that it's all in my mind, in my imagination. I have to know. Do you want me?"

Gratitude stole the last of my restraint, and instead of tasting his mouth on the fragrant cigarette, I tasted it for real.

Flash Fiction: Senior Bonfire

Hey friends- flashing with my lovely Havan again today... here's our inspiration pic- 

Senior Bonfire

Crackle. Snap. Trey closed his eyes. The flames danced on his eyelids as tears seeped between his lashes. The rhythmic shush of the waves breaking covered the silence after Clive's whispered words.

"Why?" Salt stung his sun-chapped lips and he pretended the moisture was from the sea spray, blown into his face by the chill evening breeze.

A sandy hand cupped his jaw, rubbed an abrasive caress over his lower lip. "It's time, Trey."

"You said you loved me." He shoved the hand away, lips tingling, heart aching.

"It's college. I'm going, you're staying. Expecting you to wait wouldn't be right."

"I'd wait if you asked me to, Clive." Ask me...his hand clenched fiercely in the sand at his hip. A sharp stabbing pain from one of the tiny shells cutting into his palm prevented him from begging.

"I can't, Trey. Can't you see it's not fair? We've been together since junior year. Neither of us knows anything but what we've had together. What if there's more out there, just waiting for us to experience it?"

Ah.  "If it's about sex..." His jaw clenched tight and his throat worked to swallow a sudden painful lump. "I..."

"I didn't say that to blackmail you into having sex. I just want us to be free to enjoy being young and in college."

"You mean you want to be free to have sex with people who aren't me." Okay. Well, that was different. Now, instead of being heart-broken, he could be pissed off.

Like my 250 words? Click on over to Havan's and see what she's done with this pic....

HERE 

Flash Fiction: Lord of the Keep

Flash Fiction: 

Short fiction snippets inspired by a photo...maximum word count, 250. 

Lord of the Keep

They sat discussing winter stores when the door thudded open and a serf raced to the hearth. "Riders approach. Gillie says tis the master's flag."

Elric's heart tripped to a faster beat. He clenched his trembling hands tight and breathed deeply. Dorin's return excited him, but he must insure that all went smoothly. "Go and tell them to prepare a meal fit for the master," he ordered.

Elric saw panic flare in Kathryn's expression before calm descended.

"My Lord returns. Helga, order a bath prepared." Her gaze flicked from her maid servant to him, and he caught her silent plea. "Will you meet him?"

"It is your place, My Lady." He refused to greet the lord of the manor in his wife's stead. His resentment over her role as lady of the keep hadn't lasted a year as it became clear she made no claim on his lover's heart.

Dorin needed an heir for his lands and Kathryn was the means to that heir. Had Elric been capable of producing the heir, Kathryn would not be needed.

He could not resent Kathryn who sincerely accepted Elric as steward of her husband's keep and heart, but he knew when Dorin heard Kathryn had failed to quicken with child, he would grace her bed during this visit. For that, he could hate her.

Because he craved Dorin's cock as much as his conversation, his touch as much as his attention, and while Kathryn failed to breed, Elric would continue to sleep alone. 

If you like my take on this pic, click on over to Havan's blog and see how it inspired her creative muse...http://havanshawthaven.blogspot.com/2012/11/hump-day-flashing-3stop-shoving-mitch.html

Wild Thoughts: Wednesday Flash:

Welcome Back to another Rebellious Wednesday- where we flash according to our own rules...and hope you enjoy the results! 

If you like the flash, please leave a comment! 

Night of the Aliens

Copyright October 2012 © Lee Brazil

Henry Beaumont had faced the worm in his tequila bottle too many times the last few weeks. But damn it, what else could he do?

Garrison was off his fucking rocker. He HAD to say something.  It wasn't in his nature to just sit back and let people, even people he loved, pull crap like this. "It's just fuckin' wrong!" He jabbed his tequila bottle into the night sky. "Can't deceive people like that."

Fucking Garrison though...would he listen to reason? "Fuck no."

A twig snapped in the underbrush. Henry ignored it. All kind of creatures out in this country side. How many calls came into the station every night about mysterious intruders and spooky noises? "Fucking raccoons and possums....that's your intruder."

Now this...he glared at the green glow rising across the woods. From Garrison's place. It was his night off; he'd turned off his phone. The other deputies could handle Garrison. Serve the smart ass right if they arrested him.

"Green fog is not against the law." He mimicked Garrison's smug attitude. "I'm not going to do anything. The mass hysteria will be all on them." Henry gulped more tequila.

"Shoulda beat some sense into that bastard." The green phosphorescent fog continued to rise over the tree line, an eerie Halloween joke by the man everyone already considered creepy because he was gay and scary smart.

How long would it take after this before the town added alien to that list of truths about Garrison?

 If you enjoyed my post, hop on over to HAvan's blog and see her take on the same picture! 

Havan Fellows - http://havanshawthaven.blogspot.com/

Flash Fiction: If I Said I Loved You

We've tried a few flash groups, each one with different rules, and different word lengths, but in the end the structures never quite worked for us long-term, so Havan and I are flashing on our own terms on Wednesdays. The rules are simple, 250 words. No more, no less. We hope you enjoy our efforts, if you like something please leave a comment and let us know! 

Flash Fiction Wednesday

If I Said I Loved You

"I'm going unless you can give me a damn good reason to stay."

Sylvan sat in the breakfast buttering his toast with manic attention. Without looking at me, he laid down his knife and reached for the jar of peach and whiskey preserves. "I said I love you. What more do you want?"

If the dryer hadn't stopped when I opened the door to rifle through the fresh laundry, I wouldn't have heard him.

"You love me?" I threw faded jeans in the bag. "You love everything. This morning you've told me you love the toast, the jam, the song on the radio and our neighbor."

He shifted and his blue eyes narrowed as his gaze followed me. "I don't get it."

"Where do I rank? You can't love everything and expect it to mean a damn thing to me when you say it to me."

His lips tightened eloquently. "It's not the same. Loving toast and loving you are different."

"I think you love having someone make the fucking toast. I think you love having the radio set to your favorite station, having the jam you like appear by magic, and you love that Ethel thinks you're fucking adorable."

"Wait a minute!"

"I made the toast, bought the jelly, opened the door and lent Ethel coffee." I zipped the bag on my frustrations. "I'm going."

"I'll be alone."

"That's the point." Alone, and doing things for himself.

"I'll miss you."

"You'll miss the things I do for you."

 SKIP ON OVER TO HAVAN'S FOR ANOTHER FLASH TODAY! 

 http://havanshawthaven.blogspot.com/

Tantalizing Tuesday #1: No Way Out

Another Flash Fiction Group- this one less structured- instead of ten takes on one picture, everyone chooses their own picture and then writes 250 words. 

This is my first pic

No Way Out 

Clang. Whirrr. Clang.

Yul took stock of his prison. The small windowless room had no other exit than the one so dramatically locked behind him. It resembled a remodeled bank vault. A thin air mattress with white sheets lodged against one wall.

Bare walls, bare floor. Nothing he could use to escape. He was here until he complied with their wishes.

Yul stretched across the mattress, relaxing as he lit a cigarette. Would setting the mattress and sheets on fire gain him anything? There was no alternative. He picked up the knife, tested the blade with his thumb. It was sharp, he kept it that way.

Cigarettes and his pocket knife wouldn't get him out of this alive. He could cut up the sheets, then what? Strangle himself?

He didn't want to die.

He'd have to "donate" the blood they wanted and hope like hell the foul things kept their word and released him before they realized that he was no more a fucking virgin than he was president. "Pint of virgin blood freely given." He muttered drawing the blade along the fine lines of his palm and up his forearm. Slice open a vein and measure out a pint.

Snorting, he dragged the blade down and tapped the button of his fly, traced the waistband of his jeans. Idiot asked the wrong question.

"Have you ever fucked a woman?"

"No, never." It was the one damn thing he'd never done. He'd fucked plenty of men, been fucked by more. 

Flash Fiction Friday: Just the Two of Us

Flash Fiction Friday

Thanks for stopping in this Friday for another dose of Flash Fiction. 

This week's picture is a photo by Dan Skinner and is used with his permission. 

Just the Two of Us

"Donovan, we need to talk." Sage leaned against Mickey.

"I'm listening." Cool air brushed his cheek, ruffled his hair.

"I'm ready." He grinned broadly.

"I knew you'd get here. He'll be good for you." The wind picked up, whipped his hair about. "I love you."

"So, this is good–bye?"  

"One last thing. Tell him if he's not prince fucking charming the rest of your life, I'll come back and haunt him."

"I'm sitting right here. I can hear you two." Mickey completed the heart Sage drew with a sweep.

"I want you to." The wind faded leaving them alone.

Like my flash? 

Check out these others:

Bonni Sansom: http://bonnisansom.blogspot.com/

SJ Maylee: http://SJMaylee.com

Lee Brazil: http://leebrazilauthor.blogspot.com/

Yvonne Nicolas: http://yvonnenicolas.wordpress.com/

Cyril J. Michael: http://authorcyriljmichaels.blogspot.ca/

Venus Cahill: http://www.venusbookluvr.blogspot.ca/

Gemma Parkes: http://gemmaparkes.blogspot.com/

Havan Fellows: http://havanshawthaven.blogspot.com/

SLira aka Michael Mandrake: http://tabooindeed.blogspot.com

Jp Archer: http://jp-archer.blogspot.com/

Kendel Davi: http://kendeldavi.wordpress.com/

Naomi Shaw: http://midnightfantasieswithnaomishaw.blogspot.com 

Do you enjoy m/m romance? 

Try one of my Best Selling full length novellas from Breathless Press at All Romance e-books.  

BLURB

Mischa knew his brothers were up to something. He didn't know it would lead him to Donovan Holloway and change his carefree lifestyle forever.

Donovan Holloway, advertising executive, newly made vice president of the company where he's worked for twenty years, grew up in a free love hippie commune, taking care of the parents who should have been taking care of him. He's worked hard to put himself through school and achieve the American dream. All he's ever wanted was a normal family life—house in the suburbs, two cars, two kids, a shaggy dog. A family to come home to—to care for, and to care for him.

Mischa Blake is the green eyed, liberally-pierced, black-haired, Mohawk-wearing spoiled youngest son of a Hollywood producer and his actress wife. Mischa has made a terrible mistake. In a fit of childish pique, he's accepted a dare from his older brothers. The dare? Live on his own, supporting himself completely for a year without accessing his trust fund. No problem. Except Mischa has never worked a day in his life, hasn't finished college, and has absolutely no skills that he can bring to the table.

So when he sees Donovan's ad for a housekeeper/gardener, he has nothing to lose by applying, because really...how hard can it be?

See More at http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-keepinghouse-546365-145.html

Flash Fiction Friday : Cheater

Cheater

"Don't look at me like I'm a particularly nasty insect that's crawled uninvited under your microscope lens." He puffed lightly on his cigarette.

"I didn't say you were." He was too gorgeous to be called a bug.

"No, the look says it all." He sneered.

"You're cheating."

"I'm sorry. It'll never happen again."

"Because you got caught. I'll never trust you again." My gaze lingered on the lean lines of his body with regret.

"You're overreacting."

"Did I ever really know you?"

"It's just a fucking Scrabble game, Chris."

"You cheated me. What's to keep you from cheating on me?"

Like My Flash? Check out the others:

Havan Fellows ~ Patricia Logan ~ Yvonne Nicholas ~ Davee Jones ~ Muffy Wilson ~ Gemma Parkes ~ Cassandre Dayne ~ Katie Harper ~ Sancre Darling ~ ER Pierce ~ JP Archer ~ Kendel Davi ~ S.J. Maylee ~ DH Black ~ Michael Mandrake

Flash Fiction Friday: My Boy Friend's Ex

My Boy Friend's Ex

     I knew there was something about this job he didn't want me to know,  but walking on set to find Trey fucking a chick wasn't on my radar of things he might be hiding.

     She squealed, bucking into him. Acting my ass. I threaded my fingers through the hair at my nape where it prickled uncomfortably. When I realized how closely his grip in her hair mirrored my gesture I dropped it immediately.

     I growled. Trey's head snapped up.

     "I can explain."

     "No, you can't." His ex-fiancée lay on the bed, tiny school girl skirt flipped up revealing glistening flesh. 

Like my flash? Try the others:

Havan Fellows ~ Bonni Sansom ~ Cyril J. Michael ~ Venus Cahill ~ Yvonne Nicholas ~ Davee Jones ~ Benjamin Russell ~ Muffy Wilson ~ Gemma Parkes ~ Lani Rhea ~ Cassandre Dayne ~ ER Pierce ~ JP Archer ~ Kendel Davi ~ BL Morticia ~ DH Black ~ Sherry Palmer

Flash Fiction Friday: Soap Opera

Flash Fiction Friday 

Soap Star

Another fine mess I've fallen into. Doing hair product commercials kept me fed, clothed and shelterd. Then I met Fabian. He suggested I audition for a new soap opera he was going to be involved with. I let him convince me over martinis and anti-pasta.

The audition went well. The director said our chemistry melted the screen.  I just wished Fabian had told me what kind of soap ahead of time. I didn't realize he wanted me to play his love interest. I pictured a "buddies" thing, like Butch and Sundance.

How do I tell him I'm straight and engaged?

Like My Flash? Check out the others! 


Bonni Sansom ~ Sara York ~ Cyril J. Michael ~ Venus Cahill ~ Yvonne Nicholas ~ Muffy Wilson ~ Naomi Shaw ~ Lani Rhea ~ Lisa Worrall ~ Sancre Darling ~ JP Archer ~ CR Guiliano ~ Michelle Chatton ~ S.J. Maylee ~ Rawiya

Flash Fiction Friday: Waiting

Waiting

Waiting. God how I wish I dared just stand up and holler down at Sascha to hurry his ass up. But I can't. Because then she'd see. She'd know. The whole town would know. 

And he doesn't want that. Well, what about what I want? What the fuck about honesty and truth and love?

Yeah. That says it all, huh? 

You know what? There's more to living than safety. There's dignity. 

And if my pants weren't down there on the landing where he tossed them in his passionate desire to fuck, I'd be out of here like a shot. 

Like my flash?

Check out the others! 

Havan Fellows ~  Patricia Logan ~ Bonni Sansom ~ Sara York ~ Cyril J. Michael ~ Venus Cahill ~ Yvonne Nicholas ~ Muffy Wilson ~ Naomi Shaw ~ Lani Rhea ~ Cassandre Dayne ~ Katie Harper ~ ER Pierce ~ CR Guiliano ~ Michelle Chatton ~ BL Rawiya

Flash Fiction Friday: Together

Together

He peers into the distance, listening to the approaching hounds. He thinks I don't notice. The injury isn't so bad my senses are off though.

He needs to move, leave me behind. I’m slowing him down. Worse, I can't shift and heal while he watches.

"Leave me."  

"We live or die together." I wince as he applies pressure to the wound. "Just shift."

My world slows and every painful breath batters my ear drums. He knows. "What?"

"What are you? Fox? Lynx? I'd recognize another wolf's scent." He's prosaic, matter of fact.

"Fox," Wolf...that solves the mystery of his scent. 

If you like my flash, check out the others!

Havan Fellows ~ Patricia Logan ~ Bonni Sansom ~ Sara York ~ Cyril J. Michael ~ Venus Cahill ~ Yvonne Nicholas ~ Naomi Shaw ~ Benjamin Russell ~ Gemma Parkes ~ Cassandre Dayne ~ Katie Harper ~ Lisa Worrall ~ Aurora Rose Andromeda ~ JP Archer ~ Kendel Davi ~CR Guiliano ~ Rawiya