Tag Archives: short story

Flash Fiction

Couple on Beach kissing

It’s Flash Fiction this week on Romance Writers Weekly. Five hundred words using Coffee, Blue and Waterfall with bonus points if kiss is used.

Jo dug her toes into the sand beneath the lounge chair. Sky and water stretched to infinity. Drinking coffee on a beach wasn’t odd. She did so nearly every morning back home on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Having coffee seaside in Hawaii with palm trees reaching skyward seemed right out of a dream.

A relaxing cascade from a nearby waterfall, exclusive to the resort, made it a perfect honeymoon destination for two water lovers like she and Ray.  Two years ago, as she was fingerprinted in California, she never imagined being free again, much less married the man she’d been in love with as a teen.

His hearty chuckle brought her back as he chatted with the surfside bartender. A few seconds later, he sat down beside her and handed her a plate. “He gave us some fruit and croissants.”

“Thanks babe.” She nabbed a piece of sliced kiwi. The large blue sapphire sparkled on her finger.  How did she get so lucky?

He raised his wrap-a-round shades  to the top of his head. Ice blue eyes that always read her soul asked, “So surfing or hiking today?”

Her belly warmed inside as she remembered this morning in bed. While she wanted to ask for another round, she tamped down her attempt at a sexual innuendo. “How about that helicopter tour?”

“You think the pilot will let us have some fun in the back seat, if we pay extra?” He winked.

So his mind was on the same track. She grinned. “You could barely get those shoulders of yours though the door of the airplane bathroom.”

He nodded with a smirk and picked up his phone. “Let’s see what times they have open.” The man could have played pro football but decided firefighting was his calling and her dad probably has something to do with his choice of careers.

She was living the trope of falling for her brother’s best friend and it was absolutely fantastic.

Two hours later, a lush, green tropical canopy skimmed below them as they crested another volcanic cliff and then zoomed out over the sea. From the outcropping a towering waterfall projected a rainbow in its mist. 

Ray snugged her hand in his.  “Paradise, huh.”

“Yep, almost as good as sleeping next to you.” She bumped his shoulder.

The chopper dipped suddenly as the engine died. The pilot punched the start over and over working the controls as he tried to control their rapid descent.

“Shit.” Jo’s heart rose to her throat.  No! They couldn’t die like this. Not after all they’d been through.

The terror in Ray’s eyes said yes they would.  “I love you baby.”

He met her lips with a lingering kiss.

The chopper slammed into the water then blackness.

“Get up!” a harsh female voice echoed in Jo’s ears. I don’t have all day!”

Jo wiped her eyes, wet with tears.

The guard yelled again.  “Your bail has been posted. Get you blonde ass moving.

At least she wasn’t dead…now to somehow get back home. She ached to see Ray. Would even have anything to do with her now?

Romance Writers Weekly with coffe cup underneath and a mocha foam heart in cup

Want to find out if Jo makes it home and finds Ray? I wrote this as a prequel to Hot as Blazes. It’s available on Kindle Unlimited and all major e-book sellers and in paperback.  Now check out the lovely Leslie Hachtel for her flash fiction.

Flash Fiction

Romance Writers Weekly with coffe cup underneath and a mocha foam heart in cup

This week authors of RWW are asked to write a flash fiction of 500 words containing the words carousal, mud and wine. The words immediately took me back to a spring festival held in city each year. During the mid to late eighties, hubs and I worked the beer tent his company sponsored.

Held during the spring rainy season, our annual jubilee more often than not turned into a mud festival. Beneath my high-top Reebok clad feet, peanut hulls mashed into the boggy ground.  My permed frizzed in the evening humidity.

Tonight, a favorite band from my youth will grace the main stage. While I am by no means old, however, the sixties band, popular over twenty years reminds me how quickly early adulthood is passing.

As I head to the stage, a carousal of painted ponies pauses as kids clamor to mount their favorite horse. Sadly, I already realize at this point in my life, I’ll probably never have the finances to own a horse. Another dream dashed along with becoming a photographer. Small mirrors atop All rights one, the merry-go-round spins with the small mirrors gleaming amid the lights of the arcades and Farris Wheel.

Colorful mini-flags decorate white tents where beverage vendors peddle wine coolers of various fruity flavors and domestic beer. They’re not my favorite. I’ve become a whiskey girl since meeting my husband.  I have a sippy mug loaded with and my favorite brand and stake a claim on a grassy spot in front of the stage while my husband serves at his company’s tent. This yearly pastime have become a tradition.  Stars twinkle on the clear night which will be filled with fireworks after the show.

The crowd thickens while the roadies sound check instruments, included the electric keyboard which will sound the first chords of my favorite Three Dog night song, Chest Fever. The tune was playing on a mixed tape from a cassette player when I received my first and sweetest kiss ever.

Dusk claims the stage and lights swivel and the band appears. Guitar chords fill the air backed by a pounding bass drum to begin the first song. Sounds of youth and rock fill the night. Although Chest Fever was the opening song at the sixties mega concert, Woodstock, they begin with another favorite, Mama Told Me Not to Come. The lyrics are about attending a wild party of which I’ve been to a few. The set continues with other golden oldie hits.

Three songs later, the infamous opening chords emanate from the keyboardist’s fingertips.  I’m swept away in memories and flooded with the same passion felt that night.

The darkening of caramel color of his eyes when his face neared mine. The soft strands of his near black hair tangling in my fingers as his lips met mine, amid the spring night that was much like tonight.

Would we have made it, if not separated by distance? I’ll never know, but a vivid memory enhanced by a song will never to be forgotten.

Hope you’ve already visited
Leslie Hachtel http://lesliehachtelwriter.wordpress.com
and now on to
Jenna Da Sie http://jennadasie.com

Have a great week!