Writers Quote Wednesday Writing Challenge – Waiting Game

This week for the Writers Quote Wednesday Writing Challenge (#WQWWC) the theme is Autumn.

The quote I chose is by George Eliot:

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns. George Eliot.

There is something truly magnificent about autumn, and though we Brits don’t celebrate the holiday, it is a time for thanksgiving. For the glorious colours that explode to life, even in death. For the rich and pleasant smells, the wind on your cheeks, the fire in the hearth, and the warm drinks shared with friends.

I found myself inspired by the theme, so I created a few images to (hopefully) entertain you.

My inspiration for the piece of flash fiction has its roots in my current project. Eventually I will get back to my other works but, as you probably know, I have lived and breathed the Collective for the last six months. I went in a different direction, and used a goddess (of autumn), a completely new character who is surprisingly vocal considering she’s only been in my head for a day!

I’m considering a new series for the blog, and have been itching to find an opportunity to break the fourth wall – this might be it!

Waiting Game

There was a time when committing an act of hubris meant great suffering, and death. Not anymore. In Nearyon, arrogance and pride are applauded, and coercion will probably earn you a pat on the back.

Given the sorry state of affairs, I should not have been surprised that a bunch of upstarts who call themselves mercenaries for hire took me from my home. The kind who, if gathering brain cells was as easy as reaping a harvest, they should be filling their boots. And the worst part – aside from the fact they’re idiots – they take cues from a damn playbook. I mean, seriously, they should get it over with and set up their own club – HubrisRUs.

Okay, so maybe I’m a tad bitter because I haven’t figured out a way to escape, but still, my jailers don’t even have powers to speak of. No. What they have is powerful friends with the ability to dampen a god’s power. I should be flattered that they took extra precautions with me (I’m Thera by the way – in case you were wondering), and put me in a cell that is guarded against earth magic. Which kind of sucks, since my power links to the elements.

Still, I’m not completely defenceless. It took me three days to recover from the dampening spell, but it was worth the hours I spent plotting my revenge. The instant I came back online, I discovered a weakness (did I mention my jailers are idiots?) and, though I couldn’t pinpoint my location, I did manage to escape for a short time using astral projection.

I’m not going to lie, it didn’t exactly go according to plan. My sisters have the same ability, and give that they had been searching for me, the moment our connection snapped back into place they projected too. We sort of passed on the astral plane like ships in the night. It’s one way to find entertainment, I suppose. When you’re stuck inside a box it’s hard to find things to laugh at.

So, now it’s a waiting game. I can’t get out, but my sisters will find a way to get in, and together we will wreak havoc. As an added bonus, I will free all the other prisoners and we might even create our own playbook – 101 Ways to Exact Revenge. Not particularly inventive, but let’s just say I have a one track mind.

---

 

It didn’t really go anywhere, except as an introduction of sorts. It’s my first attempt at finding the right tone for the story and I wanted to keep it under 500 words. It’s a work in progress shall we say 😉

Thanks for stopping by

Mel

Thanks also to Colleen and Ronovan for inspiring us each week.

 

Completing the Cycle – Thursday Photo Prompt: Roses #writephoto

Completing the Cycle – Written for Sue’s Photo Prompt.

Rebecca stepped onto the front porch and froze when she saw the obstacle in her path. She knew what it meant, what they represented, and her heart began to pound. The song was next. It came at her from behind, in her own damn house, the haunting melody pulsing into her very core as her legs gave out and she dropped to her knees.

Her gaze fell on the roses and she thought of Matt, of the shriveled, decaying dream she once had; now as dried up as the flowers and their crumbling leaves. She watched them tear apart and flutter in the breeze, taking the last of her broken memories. He had finally come for her, and this time he intended to end it. Why else would he leave the real thing, the symbol of their dying love, if not to complete the cycle – as she had hoped he would.

Rebecca’s hand shot out, but hovered inches from the bouquet. In her mind the colour was a luscious, vibrant red. She had been so happy the day Matt gave them to her; young and innocent and in love. It didn’t last. The bloom fell from the relationship well before the flowers withered and lost their glow. She hadn’t known about Matt’s illness then, hadn’t expected he could hurt her.

“May I have the honour of this dance?”

Rebecca felt the breath catch in her throat. It was time. She had known he was there, in her house; toying with her. He had always been good at that, at finding weakness and exploiting it. “I think I’ll pass.” Her throat sounded scratchy, and for some reason she thought of the thorns.

“Don’t be like that,” Matt said from the doorway. He was using his quiet voice, his scary quiet voice, and yet she felt no fear. Not this time.

“You were the first man to give me flowers. The only man.” She turned towards him. “You’ll also be the last.” Rebecca stood, her legs unsteady. Not her thoughts, though. No, her mind was focused for the first time in months. The waiting was always the hardest. “It’s time to finish this. I’m done.”

“We’ll never be done,” Matt said, stepping forward. “You belong to me.”

Without taking her eyes from him, Rebecca crouched to retrieve the roses. There was no hesitation this time. She crushed them in her hand, and felt a slight scratch across her palm. Matt moved, eyes glittering, and the moment he stepped out onto the porch she slapped her hand against the floor.

The spell snapped into place immediately. Rebecca felt it buzz along her skin. It hurt, but she could deal with a little pain; she’d endured worse from Matt.

With her eyes still on his, she moved back so she was on the edge of the porch. He tried to follow her, but he couldn’t move. She saw the moment he realised what she’d done, and the satisfaction was like a hit of vodka; it went straight to her head.

“I never wanted this,” she told him. “But you gave me no choice.”

“Your juvenile spell can’t hold me forever.” Matt’s body began to vibrate with rage, and she knew he was fighting the hold.

“It doesn’t need to, because it’s already done.” Taking a deep breath, Rebecca placed her hands on the side of the porch and took a deep breath. “I’m taking away your power. Literally. And you will never be able to hurt me again.”

Energy shot through her, the impact taking her off her feet. Her chest burned, a white hot pain that she knew was a brand in her soul as well as her skin. On unsteady legs, she regained her feet. Matt was lying in the exact spot he had placed the roses, his skin pale, his eyes brimming with fear.

“What have you done?”

She walked to stand over him, pulling at the neck of her jumper so he could see the representation of her freedom, a talisman scored into her flesh. “What you intended to do. I broke the cycle and I’m letting go of the past.”

Matt screamed, a loud, high pitched noise that drowned out the song still playing in the background. Music to her ears. She dropped her head back and stared at the trap she had carved into the ceiling. It had taken days, a drop in the ocean compared to the time she had waited for this very scene to play out.

When Matt’s scream became a low whine of defeat, Rebecca smiled and glanced down at her chest. The roses were hers now, and they would not wither or die; they did not instill her with fear. They gave her strength, and protection. The best gift of all. “Thank you for the flowers,” she said, and walked back into the house.

---

Thanks for stopping by

Mel

The Sacrifice – FRIDAY FICTION with RONOVAN WRITES Prompt Challenge #13

Ronovan’s prompt this week:

• Word Count of 500. (SUGGESTED)
• Take your favorite quote from a movie and use it as inspiration for your entry this week. If you want more direction, make it the last sentence in your piece. (REQUIRED)

 

I’ve been unable to participate in Ronovan’s challenge for the last few weeks, and I’ve missed taking part. When I saw the prompt, and given that I wanted to write something for Valentine’s, I decided to go with it. It’s a little rushed, so I apologise for that, and I’m nervous about using the line because I know I didn’t do it justice. Not even a little bit. Still, it was fun.

To say I loved Deadpool is an understatement. It might just be my all time favourite movie, and I think Ryan Reynolds did a wonderful job of bringing Wade Wilson to life. I was tempted to write a story in which I broke the fourth wall, one of my favourite things about Deadpool, but I think I’ll save that until I’m feeling braver!

So, it’s obvious by now, but the line I chose is from Deadpool Enjoy 🙂

The Sacrifice

Sebastian turned away from his partner, who was heaving his breakfast, and possibly everything he’d eaten in the last two days, onto the pavement. Darren was beyond green, the poor kid looked ready to pass out. It wasn’t unusual; crime scenes were never pretty, so when you were human and dealing with a whole heap of supernatural nasty, well, puking went with the territory.

“Shit, man,” one of his officers ground out. “Who called Jeremiah’s posse?”

Sebastian followed the officer’s gaze to the two figures bearing down on them. The one in front, tall, built, and with hair prettier than his sister’s, wore a look Sebastian recognised. Ignatius Steele was an arrogant son of a bitch. Unfortunately, he was also the right person for the job, and they needed him.

“Look out, boys, here comes the elf squad.” Sebastian took in the berry-coloured suit, which shimmered like a second skin. “And they have a new uniform to boot.”

Ignatius gave a bow, immune to the jibe, as always.

“What the hell?” Darren straightened, one hand clamped around his waist as though trying to convince his stomach to stay put. “Did I miss the memo? Or are you wearing that for a bet?”

“How would you like to cough up more than the contents of your stomach?” Isabella snapped, stepping in front of Ignatius.

Darren rolled his eyes, whether to fight nausea or impatience, Sebastian couldn’t be sure. “How the hell did you hear about this so soon?”

Ignatius smiled, turning his distinguished features into the stuff of nightmares. Manic was too tame a word. “It’s Christmas day, and I’m after someone on my naughty list!”

“Actually,” Sebastian cut in. “You’re getting your festivals crossed. It’s Valentine’s, so you dug out the elf suit for nothing. And when I say this, I mean it with all due respect, but you should never wear that thing, not even at Christmas.”

To this, Ignatius reached forward and plucked Sebastian from the ground. Despite his formidable strength, Ignatius didn’t hurt him, except maybe his pride. He crushed Sebastian to his chest as he roared with what could have passed for laughter, though, again with the manic. This wasn’t typical behaviour for the elves, but then, there was nothing typical about Ignatius.

When Sebastian was back on terra firma, he quit with the pleasantries, and got down to business. “What happened in that warehouse is so beyond evil it isn’t funny. No more jokes about holidays because, that in there.” Sebastian pointed over his shoulder. “Is the kind of red you don’t want to see, and there’s nothing left of the poor guy’s heart.”

Ignatius and Isabella stepped forward without another word. They moved into the warehouse, through to the gruesome scene that, even now, was burned into Sebastian’s brain. He looked to Darren, who was back on his knees, cursing everything that had passed his lips, and then followed the pair back into a nightmare.

The moment he crossed the threshold, Sebastian felt the rage leaking from Ignatius like lifeblood. He had his forehead pressed tight against his partner’s, and Isabella was murmuring in a familiar language, Sebastian still found difficult to process.

“We have a problem,” Ignatius said, without looking at him. “You were right about the evil, but you haven’t seen anything yet. This was merely the beginning. A sacrifice and a warning of what is yet to come.”

“Shit.” Sebastian braced himself when he saw Ignatius move. He was glad he did because the elves’ eyes reflected the horror in the room. They were blood red.

“We are going to need the power of a saint,” Ignatius said. “To prevent the birth of a demon.”

Sebastian didn’t even hesitate. “Tell me what to do.”

“Call on Orion. This is a job for the Collective.”

***

Thanks for stopping by.

Mel

Feverish Part 3: Friday Fiction with Ronovan Writes #9

This week, Ronovan challenged us to write a story based on the following sentence:

Ticks and tocks of essential time, sink the spirits lower than wine.

To find out more about Ronovan’s challenge click here.

I’m cutting it fine this week, and I have good news and bad news. The good is that I finally managed to finish the story! The not so good is that I couldn’t complete it within the suggested word limit. As it is a suggested limit I don’t feel too bad, although I did double the 500 word target!

As this is the third part, here is a quick summary of the previous installments:

Maddison Wood is a mercenary. She is also a powerful witch, and a member of the Enchanted League. When the Hympe King contracts a virus, and his people begin to get sick, Maddison agrees to help. Her partner in crime, a werewolf named Riley, located the source of the virus – a hympe who imprisoned himself in the shape of a tree (hympe’s are shapeshifters). The Hympe King is the only one who can free the prisoner but, due to an uncontrollable rage brought on by the fever, the team might not be able to contain him long enough for him to focus his power.

Feverish Part 3

Marcus and the siren twins made it in under thirty minutes. All three guards looked exhausted; their expressions grim, their shoulders hunched. Of course, they had the added weight of a king on their shoulders, since they were carrying Tobias – literally.

“We don’t have much time,” Marcus said, and his voice was heavy with fatigue.

Maddison made her way over to the group, with Riley on her heels. The tension was so thick, it was like wading through treacle. Jonas’ words sprang to mind; their commander and chief had a tendency towards the dramatics. Maddison could hear his voice in her head, like an echo of his earlier warning.

Ticks and tocks of essential time, sink the spirits lower than wine.

That mission hadn’t gone so well, and Maddison still remembered the bitter taste of their defeat. But they wouldn’t lose this time. She wouldn’t allow it.

“What’s the plan?” she asked Marcus. “Other than poking the bear and waking his ass up.”

Riley’s low rumble of laughter did nothing to ease the animosity. It was leaking out of Marcus’ pores and, since he ignored her question, Maddison took that as a zero in the ideas department.

By the time they lowered Tobias to the ground, Maddison was out of patience. She didn’t have it in her to argue protocol, or worse, debate over how they would handle Tobias’ condition.

She knelt beside him and focused her power. Her hair shot out, the braid controlled, and as lethal as a snake, her locks wound themselves tight around Tobias’ torso. When she had enough energy focused on her silken trap, she leaned forward to take Tobias’ hand until her fingers brushed the wide band on his finger. Maddison had given the ring to him for protection, to anchor him in the present. It had worked before, and she had to believe it would work again.

“Wake him,” she said to Marcus, and cut off his protest before he could utter a word. “We don’t have time to argue.”

Marcus didn’t like it, she could feel his anxiety, yet she knew he couldn’t deny her connection to his king.

Maddison closed her eyes, pushing out with her mind to find Tobias. ‘How’re you holding up, half-blood?’ she asked. It probably wasn’t a good idea to push his buttons, but it hadn’t stopped her before.

Every muscle in Tobias’ body locked, and she knew he was getting ready to fight the binds. ‘What’s happening?’

He sounded confused, whether from the prolonged sleep or the amount of power she was using, Maddison’ couldn’t be sure. ‘You’re sick, and the virus has put you in a perpetual bad mood, so you need to get a hold on that temper and help us out.’

‘I hurt you.’

Maddison felt her brows draw together, and for a second she thought her brain had scrambled too. Then she remembered he’d drawn blood during their fight; the first indication of the illness. ‘Yes, I still owe you for that one, but we’ll save the rematch for when you’re not feeling so cranky.’

“What’s happening?”

The question came from one of the twins. Maddison didn’t know which one, it took all her effort to hold on when Tobias began to thrash. ‘Stop.’ She directed a blast of power into the ring, and felt it heat beneath her fingers. ‘You need to focus your energy to use your gift.’ When Tobias’ body stilled again, Maddison forged ahead. ‘Your people are sick, Tobias. You have to help them.’

Tobias didn’t reply, but he didn’t move either. So she told him about the hympe who had imprisoned himself in the form of a tree, one of Tobias’ subjects in desperate need for an intervention. She didn’t tell him they were running out of time, or that the hympe was the key to curing him.

She wanted to sag in relief when she felt Tobias’ power dance with her own. He was reaching out, using his entire focus. She didn’t move. Maddison remained locked in place, ignoring the pain in her skull and the exertion of maintaining the connection.

Maddison had no idea that Tobias’ guards were using their skills to strengthen that hold. All three had linked to their king and were helping to ease his growing frustration.

Riley, whose animal half had detected Maddison’s distress, howled in warning. She felt his presence like a comforting hand on her shoulder.

She knew the moment Tobias freed the hympe from his self-induced prison, but there was no pull of relief this time. Maddison didn’t have it in her. Tobias was straining against her, the rage hitting her in great waves as he struggled to regain control. She felt their connection break when he tugged his hand out of hers, and fear ran along her skin.

“Put him out,” Marcus barked, his voice coming from somewhere far away. “We need to get them out of here. Now.”

The second Tobias stilled again, Maddison let go. She didn’t have any choice. She had expelled too much energy and there was nothing left to give. There was nothing left to keep her upright either. If it hadn’t been for Riley, she would have fallen on her face.

Riley’s arms were like steel traps around her, and she leaned into his strength. Maddison even allowed it when he nuzzled his face into her neck. It was a compulsion of the wolf, and a sign of the animal’s affection. Still, she didn’t humour him for long. Her hair flipped out like a cat’s tail and flicked him playfully on the head. Maddison felt his body shudder with a growl of laughter.

“Okay, fur-face, stop slobbering on me and let me up. Our job here is done.”

Riley obliged with a wicked grin. “What about Tobias?” he asked, as she straightened.

“His guards will serve up the cure, and then I’ll serve up an ass kicking for all the shit he’s pulled.”

The rumble of amusement came again, deep from Riley’s chest. “You do know that he’s a king, right. And he happens to rule the League.”

Maddison shrugged. “Somebody has to keep him on his toes.” Then, because she was still feeling a little weak, she rerouted her energy and looked across the clearing. “Let’s get out of here. Make yourself useful and find the nearest portal.”

“Try to keep up,” Riley said in a low taunting voice, and set off at a run.

The burst of challenge was just what Maddison needed. Not to mention the satisfaction of knowing Tobias would be well, and sparring with her again in no time.

***

Thanks for stopping by.

Mel

 

Feverish Part 2: Friday Fiction with Ronovan Writes #8

This week, Ronovan challenged us to write a story based on an image (below). To find out more, click here.

I mentioned last week that my story, Feverish, would be a two part tale, and that I would incorporate the new prompt. I did manage to weave in the tree, but I couldn’t complete the story without going over the word limit I gave myself (1000 words). That means it’s turned into a three part story. Hopefully, next week I can finish it, while incorporating a whole new prompt!

You probably need to read part 1 to follow the story, but here is a summary:

Maddison Wood is a mercenary. She is also a powerful witch, and a member of the Enchanted League. When the Hympe King contracts a virus, and his people begin to get sick, Maddison agrees to help. With her partner in crime, a werewolf named Riley, Maddison is searching for the origin of the virus. Riley drank a potion in order to search out the source. In his wolf form, Riley was able to pick up the trail and is on the hunt.

Feverish Part 2

If it hadn’t been for Fitz and his band of merry cats, Maddison would have lost her friend’s trail. In wolf form, Riley was fast. Too fast. And now he was burning off some seriously bad mojo, given the spell originated from a powerful god.

The wolves held back, keeping to the shadows of the mighty forest. Maddison knew they wouldn’t intervene unless one of their own was in trouble. Until then, they were merely along for the ride.

They found Riley a few minutes later. He was circling a large tree, a species foreign to Aronmyre and the Enchanted Forest. The base was large and swollen. It gave the strange impression it had split at the seams, considering the large opening at the centre. The upper branches, thick and heavy, reached up toward the sky like an offering.

The tree looked alien, so out of place, Maddison wondered why they hadn’t been drawn to it. It was like a homing beacon of discontent.

She could feel the sadness coming off the tree; it was in the air, in the land beneath their feet. When she glanced around, Maddison saw the others felt it too.

“Hey, wolf-man, what have we got?” she asked Riley as she approached. His responding growl surprised her. “I don’t have time for a wolfy chat,” she said, following his progress as he made another lap of the tree. “So I kind of need my friend back for the next part.”

Riley’s wolf usually recognised her. The animal responded to her voice, to her touch. But not this time. Instead of obliging, she got another low, threatening growl, and a flash of dark amber eyes.

Maddison watched him for a second, and then she grew tired of the show. She dropped to her hands and knees and waited out the next lap until they were face to face. Riley stopped, fur bristling, and lips pulled back in a snarl. She knew when he crouched, he was way past angry and had hit pissed off territory.

She ignored the aggressive posture and gathered power at her core. Maddison felt it build. It travelled up through her lungs and gathered in a pocket of air, which she blew directly in the animal’s direction. Under normal circumstances, it was a risky move. A sure way to get your head bitten off was to blow in the face of a wolf. But this was Riley, and it was no ordinary breath. It contained the same kind of energy she used to purge her system of foreign substances.

A second later Riley appeared in his human form. He moved forward, and touched his forehead to hers. Maddison allowed the gesture for a beat or two, and then sat back to look into his dark eyes. “What have we got?” she asked again.

Riley motioned to the tree. “That’s the origin of the disease.” He glanced at the bulbous base, which was at eye level, and then back. “Want to huff and puff and blow the thing down?”

She grinned as she got to her feet and held out a hand to him. But not before she waved a hand in front of his body and clothed him in a colourful pair of shorts. “Isn’t that my line?” Maddison asked, her attention back on the tree.

If the thing was in fact the origin of the fever, it meant it wasn’t a tree at all. It was a hympe and, despite Riley’s teasing, she had no idea how to return the hympe to its true form.

Maddison pulled one of the gold rings from her hair and threw it into the air. It expanded on descent, so it was a hundred millimetres in diameter by the time it hit the ground. She waved a hand, her lips forming a soft chant until a shaft or circular light appeared. A moment later Maddison was looking at Marcus, head guard to the Hympe King.

Her lips twitched when Marcus sucked in a breath. Not surprising when the glass chamber in front of him became a window to their location. “We found the source,” she said, forgoing the pleasantries.

Marcus’ gaze moved to take in the view. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. You need to clear out before we arrive. I’ll need Tobias for this, and he’d perform better without an audience right now.”

She wanted to laugh. What Marcus meant was that Tobias was difficult to control in the throes of his fever and he didn’t want to clean up the mess. “So that’s it. We find the main player and we don’t get to enjoy the show?”

“It’s your funeral.” Marcus shrugged. “As long as you’re all aware of the risks and don’t get in our way.”

“That’s what I love about your, Marcus. You’re all heart.” Maddison waved her hand and the connection terminated. She moved to retrieve her ring, before turning to the group. “You heard Marcus. Our role here is done.”

Both packs began to disperse.

“You’re staying aren’t you?” Fitz asked, glancing around the clearing.

Maddison shrugged. “Whether Marcus likes it or not, it’s my job to help him contain the situation. I still work for the League, and Tobias needs me.”

Fitz moved when Maddison held up her hand to him. He pressed his palm against hers and bowed. Then he turned and went after his pack.

“After this is over, I want to discuss your wardrobe choice,” Riley said, frowning down at the yellow shorts. When Maddison shrugged, he turned serious. “What’s going to happen?”

“Tobias is the only one who can coax the hympe out of hiding, given his control over living organisms. Once he does that, he’ll need some of the hympe’s blood for an antidote.” Maddison thought of his rage the last time they met. “But he has no control, so I’m not sure Tobias can tap into the power he needs to pull this off.”

Riley nodded. “Whatever happens, I have your back.”

“Why do you think you’re here fur-face?” Maddison laughed when he snapped his teeth at her. “In the meantime, we might as well take a load off. We’re in for a bit of a wait.”

***

Thanks for stopping by.

Mel

Feverish: Friday Fiction with Ronovan Writes #7

This week, Ronovan challenged us to write a story incorporating a minimum of three words from the following list: dog, cat, toy, fever, ski, fluffy, machete, purple drink. We were also encouraged to write a humour piece. To find out more, click here.

To keep the word count down, I decided to write a two-part story. The second part isn’t written yet, so I may be able to tie it in with the prompt next week (I’ll try my best).

I decided to use (as I often do) familiar characters for this tale, so here is a little background:

After the Demonic War, a battle which devastated the mortal realm, humans now stick to the world’s major cities. To even the score, and to protect those cities, hunters joined together to establish cells across the globe. Maddison Wood is part of an alpha cell within the north of England. Though a skilled fighter and powerful witch, Maddison can be brash, and unpredictable. She has a penchant for trouble, and is usually the first to volunteer in battle.

Feverish – Part One

Maddison was not having a good day. But then, truth be told, she wasn’t having a good week. It began with a virus, a virus with a ridiculous name – imp fever. She managed to burn the impish strain from her system, but not before she’d made a complete fool of herself. She had been nice. Nice. Some would say, even buoyant, like a teenager cursed with the happy vibe.

Granted, she’d been cured. Tobias Locke, on the other hand, had enough angry juice in him to start another war. If Maddison got the good mojo, the Hympe King drank from the wrong cup. His rage made him dangerous. So much so, his guards saw it necessary to keep him sedated until they found a cure. The fact imp fever was serious business to Tobias’ race, meant the Enchanted League were on high alert. It was the reason Maddison called a time out on her Watcher duties.

When it came to back up, Donovan, her sidekick extraordinaire, was as good as useless – given he was a hympe. The danger to her friend put a major crimp in their style. Donovan was so freaked out, in fact, he wouldn’t go near her, and that was after Maddison cleansed herself of the happy trip.

“Are you ready to do this thing or what?” Riley asked, stepping through the portal without waiting for a reply.

Riley was the best tracker Maddison knew, but he didn’t relish the thought of hunting in the Enchanted Forest when a third of the hympe population were dropping like flies and they had no idea what plethora of emotions would permeate the air.

Maddison stepped through after her surly friend, prepared now to see Aronmyre for the first time. Tobias’ kingdom was the jewel of the Enchanted Forest. Not that she would ever tell Tobias how much she loved his land. She would rather drink aiscline juice, which tasted as bad as it sounded.

Today she didn’t get to appreciate her surroundings. For one, she stepped into a potential minefield of teeth and testosterone. The sheer number of wolves and panthera in the same place, at the same time, had to equal trouble.

“What the hell is going on?” she demanded, when Fitz, a lieutenant and one of the feline changelings stepped forward.

“We’ve been summoned by the League,” Fitz said, holding out his hand.

Maddison rolled her eyes when Riley growled beside her. Based on the tension in Riley’s body, she knew she was pushing it, but Maddison didn’t care. Her hair whipped out and the braid wrapped around Fitz’s hand. He was a tactile creature and he needed the contact. It was the best she could give.

“Talk, cat,” Riley said, in a voice so low and rough, Maddison sensed he was losing control of the wolf.

“We need to find the original source of the virus, and to do that we need to track. Unfortunately there are so many contaminants in the air, due to the number of sick, the League figure they need all the help they can get.”

“You can all go home now. I’ll find the threat.”

Maddison had to bite down hard on her lip to prevent the grin. She turned to Riley with a blank expression. “Feeling confident, tiger?”

His eyes flashed at the provocation. “Really? In a valley full of cats, you’re going with that.”

She ignored him and turned back to Fitz. “How did you get the pack to-” Maddison sucked in breath as light exploded across the clearing. “You have got to be frigging kidding me.”

Orion Reece appeared with his usual fanfare and, apparently, he didn’t have time for games. All in the clearing had frozen in their last position, making them temporary statues. All except Maddison and Riley.

“Hmm.” Orion turned in a full circle, taking in his surroundings. “It really can rain cats and dogs!”

Maddison stifled a laugh, and Riley growled. Understandably, he took issue; it was not the first time Orion labelled him a dog. “Easy, wolf-man,” she whispered. Then turned on Orion. He might be a god, but he didn’t impress her. Much. “If you’re here to ask a favour, we’re kind of busy.”

“Woody.” His tone was conciliatory, and this time Maddison wanted to growl. He used the name to get a rise out of her. “I’m here to help. Why must you be so defensive?”

She narrowed her eyes. “What’s it going to cost?”

Orion’s smile was slow and cunning. “I haven’t decided yet. But you need my help, and it’s a price you can pay, so stop with the bitching.” He waved his hand with a sorcerer’s flourish. A glass appeared in his hand. “Drink this,” he said, holding it out to Riley.

“You expect me to consume an unidentified…” Riley’s gaze dropped to the glass. “Purple drink, a concoction which you plucked from the air?”

“If you don’t accept my help, the king won’t make it. Another two hours and his current mood swings will be permanent.” Orion shrugged. “Personally, I think it’s funny to watch him rage out, but I’m guessing others don’t agree with me.” His eyes were on Maddison now.

“I’ll drink it,” she said, bored of the game. Maddison knew Orion would never harm her, and if Tobias’ life was truly in danger, she would take the risk.

“You can’t.” Orion sighed with exaggerated patience. “This is a onetime deal, so decide. The magic requires an…adequate tracker.”

Before Maddison could argue the point, Riley grabbed the glass and downed the liquid. She watched with unconcealed fascination as her friend exploded into wolf form and took off across the clearing.

When she turned back to Orion he was gone, and the world around her came unstuck. Maddison ignored the confused look on Fitz’s face, but touched a hand to his arm. “Riley has a lead. Let’s go.”

She didn’t wait for an answer, she ran after Riley and hoped Orion wasn’t playing one of his sick games.

---

Thanks for stopping by.

Mel

Buried: Friday Fiction with Ronovan Writes #4

This week, Ronovan challenged us to write a piece of flash fiction (maximum 500 words).

Buried

The first thing I noticed was the smell. I’m not sure what that says about me, considering my senses were on full alert, and when I say that, I mean I was completely freaking out. Perhaps it was the total absence of light. I had no choice but to absorb the sounds, the smells, the feel of being trapped in the dark.

When I recovered from the god-awful smell; a putrid, downright beastly aroma that might have erupted from the depths of the underworld, it registered I could barely move. Of course, then I was reminded of the fact I was in a coffin, and the air froze in my lungs. Pure, unadulterated panic.

Something slithered across my hand, and my breath came out on a whoosh. It wasn’t relief, it was more like, ‘oh my god, somebody please tell me that’s not a snake.’ And of course, it had to be. I’d stupidly made it clear I had a phobia of all things reptilian.

It took effort, but I didn’t scream. I let the thing slither a path up and around my arm and over my stomach. All the while I concentrated on the sound of voices in my head; the wise, calming voices of my friends. A few minutes later I was home free. There was a draft of air to my left, followed by a burst of natural light, and the snake was gone.

After that, my coffin mates were relatively easy to endure. I didn’t even mind the bugs, not even when they got up close and personal; crawling over every inch of my body and making me squirm in the confines of my box.

“Oh my god, guys. They’re in my pants,” I semi-screamed. I was trying not to open my mouth.

I heard deep laughter through my earpiece. “Where have we heard that before?”

“It’s the honest to god truth. They’re frisky little buggers.”

More laughter and then, thankfully, Johnny said. “Okay, times up. Let’s get her out.”

Strangely, the urge to move was stronger than ever. I had to tamp down on my fevered desire to shove up my hands and burst through the modified glass box. I didn’t do that. This was my punishment and I had no choice but to take it, especially since the show was my brainchild.

Not an original concept, more like pranking 2.0. Let’s put it this way – my forfeit could have been a hell of a lot worse. Luckily, a certain show had just finished airing, thus influencing my friends’ decision. I’m sure you can guess the show, but I’ll give you a hint; it involves celebrities and a jungle.

I’d endured my ten minutes, which felt pretty good. Still, I all but jumped out when the crew lifted the lid and, I’m not embarrassed to say, I bent to kiss the ground.

“Enjoy your freedom, Curly,” Johnny said, bending to brush a few cockroaches from my collar. “Because that was part one.”

“Oh shit.”

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Hopefully, you found that fun – even if there was a groan or two! My daughter is obsessed with I’m a Celebrity and, since I enjoy spending time with her, we sit down at the end of our day and watch the goings on in the jungle. We’re also both a fan of Impractical Jokers, even though the show makes us cringe, we’re glued to the screen – go figure! It was Grace’s idea to write something jungle related, so I went with it.

Thanks for stopping by.

Mel

Chicken: Friday Fiction with Ronovan Writes #3

Created for Ronovan’s weekly writing prompt challenge. For more details click here.

“Jesus Christ, you can’t play chicken with a plane. For god’s sake, Sadie. Have you lost your mind?”

This from a girl who races the Snaefell Mountain Course for kicks. Seriously, the deadliest racetrack in the world or, if not the deadliest, certainly up there in the top ten, and she accuses me of being crazy. At least I had two extra wheels and an obstacle free track. If you didn’t count the private jet in our path, and the fact we were on a runway facing a relative giant. Okay, so maybe she had a point.

I didn’t tell her that. Instead I turned to the passenger seat with raised brows and sweetness in my tone. “You know Mother doesn’t like it when you use the Lord’s name in vain,” I told her, well aware Mother could hear our conversation and was probably laughing her ass off. “And you did that shit…twice.”

Anna threw her arms in the air, gesticulating her frustration – as is her way. “I tell you what. As you’re so determined to get us killed, why don’t I apologise personally when we meet her at the god damned pearly gates.”

To hide my smile, I dipped my head and worked the gears. “I’m pretty sure that’s blasphemous too.”

“Oh, give it a rest. The pair of you,” Mother snapped, her voice filling the car through the on-board navigation system; a sweet little upgrade from yours truly. What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.

Julie Keesh, code name Mother because of her tough love and organisational prowess, is a woman you listen to. Everyone I know is afraid of her, and I mean everyone. Whoever you are, and whatever the assignment, when Julie is the voice in your ear, you pay attention. Incidentally, she’s also our biological mother; Anna and I are in the family business.

“And, when I said stop the plane, Sadie. I did not mean put yourself in its path.” Mother’s voice had dropped low, which scared me a lot more than the prospect of being flipped off the runway like a bug in an expensive Italian car. “This is not an episode of Fast and Furious, so get your head out of your ass and back in the game.”

Did I mention the scary part? The Keeshter, as some of our team call her, rarely minces her words.

“Copy that,” I said, aiming off the track to execute an emergency stop. “But just so we’re clear,” I continued, throwing open the driver door as I turned to grab the extrapolator; one of my all-time favourite weapons (yes, I designed it). “This is more Mission Impossible than Fast and Furious. I have much better tech.”

I heard Anna groan. “Guys, those movies are like a million years old. You’re killing me.”

This was a slight exaggeration, something else Anna is prone to do. The films are no more than thirty years old and they still rock. In my humble opinion. Not that I corrected my sister. I was too busy lining up my moving target, setting the parameters and, bam, I let her rip.

The missile sailed through the air, locked on and settled with a thud that was definitely in my head; like the sweet music of my invention. I couldn’t hear a thing over the roar of the engine, and Anna’s delayed whoop – which she yelled right in my ear.

A few seconds later, likely due to the fact all its systems had failed, the plane rumbled to a stop on the runway and I was back in the car.

“Go. Go. Go,” Anna screeched when we saw the plane door start to open.

“Are you going to tell us why we had to keep her grounded?” I asked Mother, then accelerated towards the elegant beast.

“That’s a need to know, my girl and, trust me, you do not need to know.”

Before I had the chance to respond, five modified SUV’s cut into our path and they were motoring. Whatever was in that plane, they didn’t want it getting out.

“Head back to central command. Your part is done,” Mother said with, it has to be said, a note of distraction. “Nice work.”

I turned to Anna, who shrugged in a non-verbal ‘don’t ask me,’ and turned the wheel to get the hell out of the there.

I couldn’t help looking back, the jet centred in my rear view mirror against a backdrop of clear, blue sky, and wondering what danger it contained within. Given that we were pulled from a major assignment, and given the barest minimum in terms of intel, it had to be bad.

“Next time, let me in on the plan before I start ranting like an idiot,” Anna said, pulling her feet up to rest on the dash.

“Oh, honey,” I replied, back to sickly sweet as I knocked her feet to the floor. “What would be the fun in that?”

***

Thanks for reading.

Mel

Trick or Treat: Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Prompt Challenge 67

This week, the prompt words for Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Poetry Challenge are CHEER and CALL.

If you’ve never tried out a haiku before, and you’d like to learn more, click here to read Ronovan’s article on how to write a haiku poem in English form.

In respect of the month, my haiku this week relates to Halloween. It was the first thing that popped into my head, so I went with it! Enjoy 🙂

As a bonus, it was my intention to join in the fun last week too and, although I wrote a haiku, I didn’t get around to posting it – so here it is (prompt words pine and grief):

Mother Nature grieves

when all around her seems lost

she pines for the earth

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Thanks for stopping by.

Mel

Raging Storm: Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Prompt Challenge #64

This week, the prompt words for Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Poetry Challenge are TIDE and FLESH.

If you’ve never tried out a haiku before, and you’d like to learn more, click here to read Ronovan’s article on how to write a haiku poem in English form.

This week I’m back to relating the poem to my current WIP. Sometimes I just can’t help myself. It’s a crime novel, but it’s also a romance. I saved you from the first one I wrote! But here’s the second – enjoy 🙂

Thanks for stopping by.

Mel