Fitting and Funny Justice for Plaigarism

I just read a blog from an author who was plagiarized and can laugh about it. The blog had me laughing and I bet you will, too. Check it out: http://bit.ly/1zIT2Oj

Enjoy and remember, keep on writing.

Winning With Flash Fiction

How many ways can you win with Flash Fiction? Check out my blog post  on Winning With Flash Fiction at Mostly Mystery. I think you'll like it.

Rita Mae's Legacy

Genre Paranormal

Word Count 100

Rita Mae's Legacy
In response to Friday Fictioneers challenge



photo prompt is courtesy  of Rochelle Wisoff

Something terrible happened that night, the night Rita Mae came screaming out her front door covered in  blood.

Bud had bled out right there in the hall. We all thought Rita Mae had done it.

She kept babbling about her great granddaddy and some curse. She never was the same after that night and they never found the killer.

Some nights I sit here and watch lights moving around her house.

She never remarried, said her great granddaddy wouldn't like it. She's a mite touched in the head, now. Funny thing, though. The knife that killed her man? Great Granddaddy's.

Read the other creative entries.

Lisa's Tuesday Contest

Tuesday Tales Challenge!

1/26/2015

   

Tuesday Tales writing prompt. Write a short story between 25 to 300 words based upon the picture provided.

Just Desserts

"Ow!"

She never let go of my ear as she dragged me to the porch.

"I told you not to enter that pie-eating contest."

Her accusing finger pointed at the purple mess on the lawn and then towards the shed.

"Get the snow shovel and feed the worms."

My Writing Journey

Check out my latest post, A Writer's Journey, at MostlyMystery.
It has some good information about conferences and my favorite blogs.

:)  Keep Writing

I'm a Published Author!

I'm pleased to announce my first publication, a short horror story entitled, Micah's Gift.
It appears in Issue #70 of Black Petal's Magazine.

A flash of lightening, a strange gift, and lives change. Micha's Gift is a tale of hubris.

This story is a deviation from my usual lighter writing. CAUTION! For those who aren't fond of noir (dark) writing, this may not be something you'd like to read.


A lighter tale of terror (Is there such a thing?) follows my story. "Not Safe" was written by one of the excellent authors in my writing group, Emily Livingstone. A great read.

Keep Writing!

Christmas Eve Tale

The following is a short, short story or flash fiction. Flash fiction can be fun to write and there is  market for it. For more examples of this writing, go to http://www.flashfictiononline.com/index.html.

In the silence of the dark living room, in the boughs of the Christmas tree, a strange conversation evolves.

"Okay, it's safe to talk."

"Is that you Snowy?"

"You betcha, Olga. Mr. Snowman, himself. How's our pretty little ice skating queen?"

"I'm still here."

Another female speaks, "Me, too."

A new macho voice. "Is that Tina, our tiny ballerina? Still twirling?"

"So far."

"Okay," Snowy said. "Tina and Mr. Football are still here."

"Yeah, Snowy. I'm ready for the big game."

"Okay. What about Santa?"

"Ho, Ho, Ho, Snowy."

Snowy keeps up the roll call. "Angel?"

A sweet voice drifts down from the top of the tree. "I'm here Snowy, but I don't hear Chirpy singing."

Snowy calls out, "Chirpy?" Nothing. He tries again. "Chirpy, are you here?"

Chirpy was missing, and he wasn't the first. Last night they'd lost the Snowboarder, and before that, Rudolph and Teddy Bear had disappeared.

A frightened little voice cries, "Where is everyone?"

"Easy, Tina," Snowy says.

"Who's doing this?" Angel asks.

Olga answers. "I heard the mother say there were too many ornaments on the tree."

"I think it's the little boy," says Nutcracker. "Snowboarder said the boy wanted to play with him."

"That's right," Mr. Football says. "And Rudolph said the boy pinched his nose. Now they're both gone. I hope he doesn't hurt them."

"I wish we could see each other,"says the ballerina. "I'm afraid, twirling up here by myself."

"I can see your head, Tina," says Angel.

A squeaky voice pipes up. "I can't see anybody."

"Who's that?" Snowy says.

"Gingerbread Man. What are we going to do?"

"I'm afraid," Tina says. "Who'll be next?"

"Don't worry, Tina. I'll protect you." The deep voice belongs to Mr. Nutcracker.

"Thank you Mr. Nutcracker, but you couldn't protect all the others."

Tina's words resound throughout the tree, and the living room gets very quiet. They all know how easy it is for someone to steal them. 

As each ornament worries about his fate, the branches on the tree begin to move. Tiny voices cry out, "What's that? Who's there? What's going on?"

Then they hear a scream. "Help! Help! He's got me."

"Who is that? I can't see. What's happening?" Snowy yells.

"It's Gingerbread Man. Save me."

"What can we do?" Nutcracker says.

As Ginger's scream fade off into the distance, Angel asks, "Who took him? Did anyone see?"

No one saw anything. Finally, it becomes quiet again. None of the ornaments speak. It's Christmas Eve and they don't know if they'll be here to see Christmas morning.

In another room, a tiny voice calls out, "Mommy? Mommy?"

A sleepy voice answers. "What is it honey?"

"Mittens got ahold of something. I heard it scream."

"I'll take care of it in the morning."

"Mommy, it's in my room. I think it's crying."

"Oh, for heaven's sake. I'm coming."

Mommy comes in, turns on the light, and laughs. 
"Mittens! He's been stealing ornaments off the tree. Naughty kitty. Shoo."

She picks up Ginger, Snowboarder, Rudolph, Teddy Bear, and Chirpy and puts them all back on the tree. Chirpy's feathers are a little chewed, but he can still sing.

The little boy follows Mommy into the living room. "But, Mommy, I heard a scream."

"It was probably Mittens playing. Go to sleep. Santa will be coming soon."

After all the humans go back to bed and everyone has been welcomed back to the tree, Snowy whispers, "I forgot that humans can hear us on Christmas Eve. If that wicked kitten comes back, we'll all yell and make a great big ruckus.

Just then, they hear sleigh bells outside, and a sigh sweeps the tree.

"We'll be all right now," Angel says.

###

Merry Christmas!

And, keep writing.