Flash Fiction: The Climb

I clung to the rocks, searching for handholds. Around me, others attempted the ascent. Many faltered and fell to the ground far below. Some, battered and bruised, got up to make another attempt. The rest were too broken in body or spirit to try again.

The higher I climbed, the risks became greater. To save myself, I allied myself with a fellow climbers. Together, we survived everything the mountain threw at us. Those, who got in our way, were cast down.

Finally, we reached the summit and the old king. He been at the top for some time now. This ground was his. He was master of it and all he surveyed. Those he cast down from his lofty perch could testify to that. We didn’t let that stop us.

Together, the old king was no match for us. He fell, his body tumbling down the side of the mountain. I took a moment to take in the view as my partner caught his breath. I never would have made here without him.

My attack came as a surprise to him. He falls, following the old king. His curses are swallowed up by the wind and distance. Did I do the right thing? Maybe he would have been content to share the summit and power? I couldn’t take the chance.

I look down to see the other climbers I passed by and the new ones struggling to conquer the mountain as I did. There are so many of them and I’m all alone with no to watch my back or help me. How long will I last before I’m cast down, to join the old king and my former partner?


Author’s Note: I wrote this story a long time ago for a contest. After looking at the terms, I decided not to submit it. Even though it’s not one of my best stories, I’m still quite possessive of it. I hope you enjoy it.

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Important. And Pass It On….

A friend and fellow author pointed me in the direction of a post written by Neil Gaiman. Some of the information in Important. And Pass It On…  might be out of date but it’s still worth reading especially if you’re a writer or creative type who cares about what happens to their intellectual property when you’re gone.


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DC Legends of Tomorrow: The Time Masters

This is a little new for me so bear with me. I usually don’t talk about tv shows and movies. In the case of movies, especially more recent ones, I’ll try not to spoil anything. For television programs, I’m going to assume you’re a familiar with the program or at least interested in it. There might be some minor spoilers and insights but I won’t be doing an episode breakdown or anything else. These are just my general observations and opinions. I reserve the right to be wrong. With that out of the way, let’s get started.

DC Legends of Tomorrow on the CW network is one of my favorite shows. It captures a lot of the things I want from a live action Justice League style tv program. It’s a solid companion series to the Flash and Arrow, shedding a little light on characters from those shows in a new setting. I think it’s worth watching especially if you like what the CW is doing with the Arrowverse. That said, it’s not perfect. There are things about the show that don’t seem to work. One of those things was the villain, Vandal Savage. As bad as he is, he doesn’t come across as threatening or as dangerous as villains like Deathstroke, Malcolm Merlyn (season 1), Zoom, and the Reverse Flash. It got me to thinking. Maybe Vandal Savage isn’t the main antagonist? What if it’s the Time Masters.

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Flash Fiction: From the Heart

It started with a look followed by a smile and a laugh. The conversation shifted, no longer contained or constrained by mere words. A touch, a caress, and a kiss under the stars and moon communicated so much more. Feelings flowed. Together the flames of passion were fanned and pleasure was found. A moment of contentment and happiness threatened to stretch into eternity. He almost ruined it all by saying the words, “I love you.”

Love was one of those scary words. It could be misunderstood and twisted, even by those who thought they knew it well. Looking in his eyes, he knew the words were heartfelt.

“I got you something,” his lover added, reaching under the pillow for the dark envelope.

Surprise and protest gave way to curiosity. In the dark, he couldn’t read what was printed out on the paper inside and he was no hurry to turn on the lights. “What is it?”

“It s not the most romantic present in the world,” his partner admitted. From the way his muscles tensed, it was clear this was either awkward or difficult for him. “You can use it to see her or have her come to visit.”

“I…..” He really didn’t know what to say. Instead, he surrendered to the moment, replying with a lingering kiss. “You always surprise me.”

A sigh of relief was breathed. “I didn’t want to overstep but I wanted to do something special. I know you miss her.”

Then there was no more need for words. It was enough that he understood or at least tried to. All of them had entered into this with their eyes open, knowing each others feelings and it worked. It wasn’t perfect. Few things were but there was no forced choices, jealousy, or drama to contend with.

They had all the things that mattered. What more could he ask for? During the early hours of the morning, before the sun came up, a few things came to mind. The neighbors were sure to complain about the noise but he didn’t care.


Author’s Note: A good friend asked a bunch of us to be creative and submit our best dirty limericks, racy haikus, spicy stories, and artwork with extra points for incorporating certain themes into the story. I decided to challenge myself and write this story. I’m pleased with the results, so here it is. Hope you enjoy a little something different from me.

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Quick Update

This morning, a friend asked for people to submit dirty limericks, racy poems, and steamy flash fiction. It’s not the kind of writing I usually do but every once in a while I like to challenge myself. Sometimes the results surprise me. After a half hour of writing, I had a little under 400 words written. I was happy with the results. I even managed to incorporate a few themes that were requested. I’ll post the story next week.

I’m still working hard on my other writing projects. I’ve submitted a couple of my books to review sites. I’m also looking into advertising and possibly a blog tour while I spend the rest of my time working on the Kindle and Links section. It’s a good start to the week.


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Book of the Week: Icarus

Cole Musgrave’s dream of interstellar travel is about to become a nightmare. When a high-profile delivery is compromised aboard a state-of-the-art cargo vessel, the newly appointed captain finds himself embroiled in an assignment far above his pay grade.

Blackmail, terrorists, a malfunctioning prototype A.I. pilot, and a sinister terraforming corporation with deep criminal ties await him. Who knew delivering cargo to the deep recesses of space could be so dangerous?

Armed only with his cunning and past military experience, Cole is one against many. But this unorthodox interstellar cargo pilot won’t go down without a fight—even after he is faced with a choice that will alter the course of his life forever.

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A Little Inspiration

Advice and inspiration can come from anywhere. In this case, I was watching season two of Daredevil on Netflix, a show throughly enjoyed and reccommend. During one of the later episodes, Karen Page was having a conversation with the editor of the Daily Bulletin. His advice to her was to “write the story only she could write.” I’m paraphrasing but for some reason, this little piece of wisdom struck a chord with me. Anyone can follow the Lester Dent’s formula or the Hero’s Journey outline. What makes a story special is the writer telling the story and how much life he or she breathes into it.

I thought back to some of the stories I’ve written. The best ones were the stories I couldn’t imagine anyone else telling. With that in mind, I spent the last few days looking at some of the stories I had been working on recently. I realized why I was so dissatisfied with them. They were missing that little something only I could give them. Instead of writing an entertaining story, it felt like I was trying to be clever or write something with the hopes that it will sell. Neither one of those things are my style.

That realization was enough to jumpstart my writing. With the score to the Force Awakens playing in the background, I wrote a good 13,000 words last night. It was a good start. The words flowed freely. Now, I’m getting ready for bed. Tomorrow, I have a busy day planned. I want to see what kind of trouble my latest protagonist can get himself into.


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