Daily Prompt: Grasp

via Daily Prompt: Grasp

This is a paragraph from The Grey House Book Two, Inside the Grey House:

Vincent growled as he rushed forward, healing himself along the way. She slashed as he charged, using the light weapon effectively. He pulled back when blood gushed from the wound on his neck. He fell to his knees, grasping his neck, trying hard to hold in his blood. Anthony was yelling for her blood, demanding the fight be stopped. Vincent closed his wound, wondering if Anthony was right. He was starting to feel rather hungry. He had lost more blood then he thought he would. He had to take her down. He looked up at the beautiful woman wondering how to do it, and saw the look in her eye. She hid it quickly, but not quickly enough. Vincent’s eyes roamed to her right arm: the bandage was soaked with blood.

Daily Prompt: Captivating

via Daily Prompt: Captivating

Though this passage does not contain the word “Captivating” I think it explains it well enough. This is the very first part of a book I have yet to talk much about. It is called “That Which Has No Name”. I will publish this one day. When I have more experience with such things.

_____

Annabelle Fields stared up at Pastor Jordan from the first pew in the tiny wooden church. He was talking loudly, gesturing wildly with his arms, letting his emotions shine on his handsome face. His blue eyes were flashing and his short brown hair, usually slicked back, was unkempt. He was a large man, but then everyone was large next to Annabelle. She was 28 years old and stood five foot two inches. She’d been the same height since she turned 18. It made people think she was younger, which had not bothered her, until Pastor Jordan came to town three months ago.

Annabelle sighed as she continued to watch him. He was talking about the Creatures again, the ones God had sent long before humans. He started talking of these Creatures about two months ago, worrying some of the congregation, igniting the imagination of others. Annabelle didn’t care what he was talking about, as long as he was talking.

She tore her eyes away when he turned toward her and caught her eye. She blushed and ducked her head, feeling guilty when she felt her mom’s hand clamp down painfully on her knee. Her mother knew she had a crush on the Pastor and felt it was a sin. Annabelle was not the only one who had a crush on the new Pastor. Every woman in the small church had a crush on him, including Annabelle’s mom. Maryann dressed her best on Sundays, always sat in the first pew and always stayed late to talk to him, always keeping Annabelle close, but also keeping her quiet.

Annabelle asked her mother once why Maryann was allowed to flirt with the Pastor and she was not. Her mother had given her a dirty look, then hit her over and over with the family bible, quoting passages, insinuating her daughter’s real name was Delilah. It was the first and last time Annabelle had questioned the hypocrisy. Still, whenever Maryann caught her daughter looking at the Pastor in a certain way, she would beat her when they were alone, screaming scripture the whole time. Annabelle was tired of it, but couldn’t help looking at the Pastor. He was so handsome. Stray thoughts of watching him undress flitted through her mind as she blushed. She looked down at the bible in her hands and read the passages, not caring what she was reading. She was in church; she shouldn’t allow herself to fall into the devil’s temptation.

Breathing hard, Annabelle continued to read her bible until Pastor Jordan was done preaching. She lost herself in the choir’s voice, hoping that by the end of the service, her mother would have forgotten her indiscretion.

 

 

 

 

 

Daily Prompt: Meander

via Daily Prompt: Meander

This is from The Grey House Book One

“Pretty much. I think you know how I met Vincent.”

“I heard.” He paused to concentrate on getting by a line of trucks meandering down the mountain road. They were almost off the mountains. He was glad. Mountain roads made him a bit nervous. Too many sheer drops.

 

 

Daily Prompt: Uncompromising

via Daily Prompt: Uncompromising

Sometimes, the uncompromising NEED to write takes over everything. Sometimes, it doesn’t. I have a short story idea in my head, but I think I need to flush it out a bit before I write it out. It’ll be a second part to The Usual, one of the short stories in my collection Enter the Maze. We’ll see what happens with it.

I also have an idea for an idontknowwhat and will write it out and see where it goes. Until then, enjoy a short story I wrote a while back. It was based on a prompt of: I’m a curious person.

It was supposed to be a 3 minute fiction if read out load, written for a contest. Didn’t win, but had fun with it. Hope you do, too.

_____

I’m a curious person. No, I’m a nosy person. No, I’m a snoop. I’m a private investigator and it’s finally gotten me into trouble.

Maybe.

If I can get out before the police find me, I’m in the clear.

He came to me a month ago. He thought his wife was cheating on him, and wanted to save his marriage.  He kept asking for advice and I started looking into it.  We’ve been friends for years. He can’t afford my rates. I did it for free, without telling him.

I didn’t notice anything wrong at first. She had a normal routine: went to work, the gym, went home. Eventually, I told him I was looking into it, but she wasn’t seeing anyone. I was going to drop it when things changed. She didn’t take the usual way home, and often made quick turns without signaling. I put a tracking device on her car; she couldn’t lose me. It was odd, though. There was no reason for things to change. I wondered if she knew someone was following her, but let it go.

Then he called me, frantic. She was gone. He was sure she had gone away with her lover. I tracked her to her folks and told him where she was. She came back into town the next day. In the pictures I took, she looked terrified. He called me and told me to drop the case, but something felt off. Don’t ask me how, but I got her phone records, the numbers anyway. He was the only one that contacted her. I was suspicious. If she had a lover, she never contacted him.

Today, I received all her records: phone calls and texts. The day after I told him I was looking into things, he let her know someone was threatening to kill them. Someone was following them both. He was terrified for their lives. It escalated quickly until she told him she was going to hide. She went to her folks without telling him.

A few hours later, he sent her a text saying someone knew where she was. She wasn’t safe at her parents’ place. She came back because I told him where she was. Something was going on and I didn’t like it. He was playing us both, giving us different information, but I didn’t know why.

After he left for work today, I went to their apartment to talk to her. The door was open a crack. I opened it and found her dead on the floor, a knife nearby. I tried to leave, but realized the police were already in the building. They know me, and I didn’t want them to think I killed her. I have to find him. I don’t know if he killed her, but I came to the apartment a few moments after he left, and didn’t see anyone else leave. Friend or not, if he killed her, he’s going to jail.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Daily Prompt: Branch

via Daily Prompt: Branch

Though the word “branch” is not in this paragraph, other parts of a tree are. And no, not telling you the name of the book it’s in.

The squirrel gripped carefully in his teeth, Isha ran up the tree, onto the limb and into the apartment window, onto the floor. He carried the treat to Christy, dropping it on the ground and meowing his arrival.

 

 

Daily Prompt: Typical

via Daily Prompt: Typical

Typical is hardly ever that.

Also, here is a paragraph from The Grey House Trilogy Book Two, Inside the Grey House:

Ben was her last conquest with the staff. He had been using the weapon since he was human over one hundred years ago. He practiced with his favorite weapon often. He could easily beat anyone he came against. Most of Vincent’s vampires were reluctant to fight with staves even though they were typically too well fed to be taken down by a simple wooden stake. Natalia thought the fear was psychological. Whatever kept them from using the staff made it easier for her to get better at it. She had already beaten everyone else while using the staff. Ben was her final test, and he was very skilled.

Daily Prompt: Fabric

via Daily Prompt: Fabric

 

I wrote this a while back. I’ve been keeping it for the right day. Today is that day. Here is Stitch:

________

Stitch.

Stitch.

Stitch.

The old woman sits in her musty smelling sewing room, putting together her son’s costume for the ball. He’ll look quite dapper, she thinks as she smiles. The needle sticks a bit and she tugs gently to pull the thread through the delicate material.

Stitch.

Stitch.

Stitch.

The second floor room is filled with sunlight. No one can look in, therefore the drapes are open wide and the sun streams in uninterrupted. There are dust motes dancing about, as her son will undoubtedly dance tonight at the ball. She smiles as she thinks of him in the tuxedo, dancing with his favorite girl, as the music urges them to continue.

Stitch.

Stitch.

Stitch.

She’s almost done now. She’s been working on this for a while, almost a week. It’s nearly perfect. The final touches will have to wait until he tries it on.

“Mom? I’m home!” Thomas calls from downstairs.

Agnes doesn’t respond. Her voice no longer carries, but he knows this and will come up. The front door slams and a moment later, she hears hurried footsteps on the stairs. He comes into the sewing room, her favorite room in the house and plants a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“I can smell dinner from a mile away, mother. Thank you.”

She lifts her head and smiles to him. “Anything for you, dear.”

She indicates the costume on the large round wooden table. The table has been in the family for generations. Many costumes have been made on it. He looks down and his eyes open wide.

“Mother! It’s…”

“Not finished yet. You’ll need to try it on.”

“How did you get the height? Randy’s shorter than I am.”

The old woman carefully gets up from the table, and gently stretches the costume out to show him everything. She uses cautious movements to make sure not to rip the fragile material. She stops at the legs and traces delicate stitching on the skin. It’s obvious it’s from two different hides.

“I had to add some extra.” She looked up at him. “We need to make sure it fits. I haven’t finished stitching it all closed.”

He reached out and touched where the two skins met. It was a close match, but one was hairier than the other. “Who did you use?”

“Vagrant, but don’t worry, I washed everything before the kill. You won’t catch anything from wearing it.”

“Who helped you?” Thomas knew she was too weak to skin someone herself.

“Your brother came up from the city. He’s having trouble finding a job and needs the meat. He has five mouths to feed.”

Thomas nodded as he looked down at the face of the costume. Randy was shorter than Thomas, but height didn’t matter. Thomas was smarter, more determined, and his mother made great costumes. Thomas knew he would win Jasmine’s affection tonight, he was sure of it. The height wasn’t that much of an issue. He could say he was wearing tall shoes. Once he won Jasmine’s affections, they could laugh about the costume. It would be their first date, their first laugh. He smiled at his mom.

“I can’t thank you enough, mom.”

“Oh, nonsense. Try it on and see how it fits.”

Grinning like a schoolboy, he stripped and sat in the chair. Agnes took a small bottle of spirit gum from her sewing basket and moved it closer to his chair. She helped him put on the skin, making sure each toe went into the right place. The heel was left open, to help the skin fit. Agnes ran her finger down the stitching on the bottom of the foot.

“I had to put the stitch here.”

He smiled in pleasure. “I like when you do. I can feel it when I walk. I like the reminder.”

“Stand up and I can help you with the rest of it.”

He did as told, and she placed her hands on either side of his left leg, carefully pulling the skin up his calf. Agnes placed little dabs of spirit gum on the costume to help it stay in place. She made sure the skin fit correctly, then moved to the right leg. He carefully took the edges of the costume between his legs and adjusted his genitals. A little spirit gum made sure the costume didn’t flap open. He wished wistfully that the costume included all of Randy’s parts. Some skin was too delicate to include.

Piece by piece, Agnes moved up his body, moving her hands lovingly over the costume, making sure it didn’t snag and didn’t bunch, adding spirit gum as needed. It fit him well. She measured him every six months, even if she wasn’t making him a costume.

Once the costume was high enough on his torso, she helped him slip into one arm, then the other. As she was adjusting the left hand, he looked at the right. Randy had a birthmark on his right hand. It was large and obvious. The red wine stain was still there, and it looked like Agnes did a fine job in hiding the extra skin on the hands.

She saw him looking and smiled. “His back has the mark too. I took some of his skin from the back and added it to the hand to help it look right.”

“This is beautiful, mom.”

She smiled and continued to adjust the skin. Once everything except the head was on, she had him turn around. She used a quick stitch to finish sewing up the back of the costume. Done, she turned him around and smiled. The head went on last.

“Will I be able to breathe in this mother?”

“There’s a mouth guard, like usual. Just fit it over your teeth.” She sighed. “You always act like it’s your first time.” She muttered under her breath. She looked in his eyes. “I thinned out his lips. They should fit over yours.”

She helped him place the head over his. With the guard in place, the lips seemed to slip over his. He had to sit down to have her help make sure the head was secure over his. Once it was, she nodded.

“All right now. Just let me close the back of the head up. Let me know if it’s too snug.”

“Yes, mom.” He adjusted the hands as if they were gloves. Randy’s birthmark stood out, but it had to look right. Thomas pictured it in his mind and made sure the skin was right before the spirit gum dried. Thomas wanted to make sure Jasmine saw the birthmark. It would prove how far he was willing to go to impress her. She liked Randy, but she would see that Thomas was the better choice after tonight.

“All set.”

He stood and went to the mirror. Randy was three inches shorter than he, but Thomas still looked like he was staring at Randy through a window rather than staring at himself in a mirror.  The costume was stupendous. He turned to his mother. “Mom, this…this is…I don’t know what to say. You’ve outdone yourself.”

She gave a smile that he knew meant something more was coming.

He grinned, happiness making his eyes blaze. “What? What is it? You have something else?”

“Usually, there are parts that don’t make it. This time, because I know how much you like the girl, I tried very hard to keep something intact. I had to cut it off and prepare it separately, but I think I can make this work.”

As he watched she went to the table and opened up her sewing basket. She took a handkerchief and opened it up. Agnes turned to her son and showed him the prize.

He looked down at her hands and his mouth and eyes flew open. “Mother! That is without a doubt the best present so far!” He embraced her, careful not to harm the last piece of the costume. “Thank you!”

“Don’t thank me until it’s on. Still not sure it’ll work.”

Thomas nodded, backed away and waited for Agnes to sew him up.

“I’ll need to sit for this, Thomas. You know I can’t stand for very long.”

“Yes, mother.”

He moved closer to her chair. She placed the gift on the table, threaded a good needle and sat down. Thomas stood still as she fitted the last bit of Randy between his legs. Randy had a birthmark on that part of him as well. Thomas didn’t know if Jasmine had slept with Randy before, but this would help if she had. Agnes fussed with the skin, stitching it into place, being careful not to harm Thomas. He was a good son, though. He knew not to move while his mother was putting the final pieces of a costume together.

As the sun set, and the time of the ball grew closer, Agnes stitched the last of Randy over Thomas.

Stitch.

Stitch.

Stitch.

 

 

Daily Prompt: Messy

via Daily Prompt: Messy

This is from the third book of The Grey House Trilogy, Protector of the Grey House.

She was a mess. Her cloths were torn although she had no wounds. It was clear from her hungry attitude she had sustained massive damage, and used a great deal of blood to heal herself. She was ghul.

Daily Prompt: Above

via Daily Prompt: Above

The hawk flew high above the outer wall of the city. Far below, the little girl looked up and watched its progress until it was out of sight on the other side of the wall. Someday, she would be free of the walls as well.