It’s the first #FreeBook Friday since my grand blog reopening! I’ll be giving away TWO trade paperback copies of my “Riding Tall” books. But first some fun and then read below on how to enter my book giveaway!
YOU MUST COMMENT ON THE BLOG TO GO INTO THE DRAWING:
This blog posts to Facebook, Twitter, etc. If you’re reading this at any location other than my blog, click on the link and come comment here for your chance to win one of two of my signed trade paperback “Riding Tall” books!
On to a little fun! And a look into a twisted mind… (Not Stephen King twisted, but twisted enough. 😉 )
It’s hard to believe it’s been two weeks since the Writer’s Police Academy! As part of the WPA, a yearly “Golden Donut” contest (Get it? LOL) was held. The writer had to pen a story that was *exactly* 200 words (contractions or hyphenated words counted as multiple words, etc.). You didn’t have to attend the WPA to enter, BTW.
The story had to have a beginning, a middle and a TWISTED ending. It also had to be based off of the picture below. I loved this picture–it gave me lots of twisted ideas! I wrote three 200-word entries, which you can read below the link:
I wrote the 3 just because it was FUN. One of my entries made the top 11!
Golden Donut full list including winner and honorable mentions
For fun, here are the three stories I wrote (including the 2 that didn’t place). Again, these are just 200 words each.
This was my favorite of the three that I wrote. One day I will turn this into a book because it really draws me:
#1: HIDE AND SEEK
My knuckles are swollen, aching, fingers hooked like claws.
Air. Not enough.
Every heartbeat sounds like cannon fire. My vision blurs.
Mist curls around the old sycamore. The morning fog creeps closer to the grave markers.
“These graves have been here for fifty years.”
Hope crowds my throat until it aches. Jack!
I peer through the haze and relief brings tears to my eyes as FBI Agent Jack Brady crouches beside one marker. “But the earth has been disturbed. Recently.”
“Probably kids screwing around.” Agent Eric Jones steps into view. Tension snaps inside me as I bite back a scream. “Playing hide and seek.”
My hands start to fist but my fingers ache too much.
Do not listen, Jack. It was Eric all along.
“Becky is our star witness and a good kid.” Jack got to his feet. “Why the hell did she run?”
A sob strangles me. I did not run.
Eric shrugs. “Got scared. It happens.”
“Not on my watch.” Jack’s grim and haggard expression fades.
My eyes fly open. I am enveloped in pure darkness.
“Jack!” I scream and bang injured fists against the coffin lid. My screams become sobs. “Eric buried me alive.”
My following entry is bizarre and most people didn’t “get it”. LOL They also might be worried for my sanity…
#2 TARNISHED SOULS
My breath stirred strands of hair from my face before a chill wind teased weeping willows and dry grass surrounding the monuments. I wanted to close my eyes, pretend the graves did not exist, but stark granite with pious crosses would not allow me. They were cool and distant, yet close and cruel, like the masters’ deaths.
Voices cracked the silence like dry lightning. Too harsh, too loud.
My stomach pitched and I melted into tangled foliage. Dead brush scratched my bare legs and arms like stinging claws, and snagged my St. Catherine’s School uniform skirt.
The masters’ favorites reached the markers. Sarah knelt at Master Terrance’s grave. Janice at Master Joshua’s. Both girls lowered their heads and tears wet their cheeks.
I trembled with disgust and almost dropped the Lord’s tool. Sarah and Janice had killed the masters. If they had not gone to the masters’ quarters, the masters would have lived. Spawns of Satan, they stole the masters’ godliness, giving their tarnished souls to the beast.
Satan’s filth would join the masters.
I eased through the brush, moving until I stood behind the girls.
I raised the knife, filthy with the masters’ dried blood.
This 3rd entry, submitted at the last moment, was the one that made the top 11.
#3 A MOTHER’S LOVE
Rain drummed Kate’s umbrella.
Her throat ached from uttering words of thanks as she responded to condolences.
Detective Laramie came last. “So sorry, Kate.” The words carried over rain splattering the earth. “Losing your son and husband within four months… Damn.”
The markers filled her vision. “Thank you, Detective.”
Laramie squeezed her shoulder. “We will find the killer.”
Moments passed before he left her with her memories…
Fred’s snide voice. “You love that little bastard more than me.”
Days later, Eric’s body in the ravine. Her heart shattered, pieces scattered around his broken form.
An accident, they claimed. He had ridden his bike too close to the edge.
A glimpse of Fred’s pleased expression.
Rain stopped and clouds parted. Moonlight brightened the clearing. Had hours passed since the last person left?
When she moved, her stiff joints complained. She placed a stuffed bear on Eric’s marker.
Her chest tightened.
At Fred’s marker, she knelt. Mud coated her fingers and dress hem as she pushed aside soaking earth, making a tiny grave.
Moonlight glinted on metal she withdrew from her purse. She rested the gun in the wet ground.
A mother’s love never died.
NOW WHAT? You may be wondering. She gives us twisted stories, but how are we supposed to win?!?!
EASY. All you have to do is comment below on any of the stories, whether you liked, didn’t like, what you thought, and if you think I belong in an institution after reading these. 😉
Don’t worry–writers ARE strange.
TWO winners will be drawn randomly for one of two signed trade paperback copies from my “Riding Tall” series!
So comment away and good luck!