Happy Valentine's Day

Happy Valentine’s Day

Okay, I’m three days early, but really, is there ever a reason not to be in the mood for love? I’m delighted to be taking part in the BE MINE Valentine’s Day Bash in Ana Newfolk’s wonderful FB group - Café Lima. The party started Saturday and won’t end until Valentine’s Day itself, so if you haven’t joined the fun yet, there’s still plenty of time to do so. You can join Ana’s group here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/208814836439843/

As part of the festivities and as a special treat for our readers, the participants in this event have all penned a Valentine’s Day flash fiction featuring a favourite couple from one of their previously published books. These flashes will be bundled in an e-book which will be made available for FREE, probably on February 14^th, but stay tuned for further updates.

And, while your waiting for the collection, each participating author will share their own flash during the bash in Ana's readers' group.

My flash can be found below and features a couple I first introduced last Christmas. I hope you’ll enjoy spending a bit more time with Mitch and Cian.

This short flash revisits Mitch and Cian from A Miracle in the Library and is an interlude falling between that Christmas story and the St. Patrick’s Day novella I hope to publish mid-March.

Mitch checked the clock. No, he wasn’t imagining things. He really was hungry. He could usually set his watch by his mother’s routine and dinner was never later than a quarter to seven. Except now it was half past.

He sniffed the air, frowning when he encountered no mouth-watering aromas. Bemused, he got up from the couch he’d been lounging on and walked to the kitchen.

“Ma?” Whatever he’d expected, it wasn’t his mother sitting at the breakfast bar, reading a book.

She put her finger on the page, then looked up at him. “Yes?”

“Are we even having dinner tonight?” Mitch was struggling to keep a handle on his temper. It was frustrating enough that he couldn’t spend Valentine’s Day with his boyfriend. Just my luck that it has to fall on a Thursday. With Mitch in the final year of secondary school and Cian in college in Dublin, a midweek get-together just wasn’t in the cards. Not even on Valentine’s Day. Not even with my first-ever boyfriend.

His mother gave him one of her infamous patient smiles, the ones she gave when she thought he was being especially dim-witted. “All in its own good time, my lad.” Her smile changed, turning almost evil. “Don’t worry. You’ll get fed.” She lowered her gaze and continued reading.

The situation was so unusual Mitch had no idea what to say, so he returned to the living room. Here he was, eighteen at last and stuck at home while others celebrated love. Frustrated, he extracted his phone from his pocket and swiped the screen.

No new messages. Mitch’s mood dipped further.

They had exchanged texts earlier, but for the past two hours, there’d been no sign of life from Cian. Mitch’s message was still the last in their thread.

Fuck, I wish we could spend the evening together.

Had he at last gone too far? Been too needy? He wistfully reflected that he could do with another visit from Klaus Nichols. Except this time he needed a Valentine’s Day miracle.

Feeling sorry for himself, he leaned back into the soft cushion and closed his eyes. All he wanted was to spend Valentine’s Day with his boyfriend. Surely that wasn’t unreasonable? No, but it is impossible.

The sound of the doorbell chiming through the house had him sitting up straight. Visitors?

“Would you get that, Mitch?”

“Sure.” As he walked to the door, Mitch wondered if whoever was visiting was the reason they hadn’t eaten yet.

Mitch pulled the door open, curious who he would find on the other side, looked up and….

“Hey.” Cian’s gaze didn’t quite meet Mitch’s, and his smile was almost bashful.

Mitch looked over his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen before facing Cian again. “You…her?”

Cian shrugged. “I thought we could have pizza together. But it’s a school night, so I checked with your ma first.”

“Bastards,” Mitch muttered, unable to suppress his delighted grin. He closed the distance between them, lifted his chin, and kissed Cian. “Pizza sounds good. Let me get my coat.”

Mitch’s heart sang as he stuck out his tongue to his ma before shrugging into his coat and walking away from the house with Cian…his boyfriend…on Valentine’s Day.

****

As stated above, this flash takes place about two months after Mitch and Cian first meet in A Miracle in the Library. I realize Christmas has come and gone, but if you are interested in the start of their story, you can find it here: mybook.to/AMITL

In the meantime, you might be interested in my latest release: Valentine’s Surprise, which is the sequel to last year’s Valentine’s Love.

Valentine’s surprise is €.99/$.99/£.99.

Buy links Valentine’s Surprise: Universal link | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Buy links Valentine's Love: Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Monday Flash Fics: Nine Lives

Today’s flash is more like a prologue to a longer story than a stand-alone short. I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway. This beautiful image was suggested by Theo Fenraven and as always, more flashes inspired by the same picture can be found on the Monday Flash Fics Facebook page.

273 words

Nine Lives

We jeered when they told us the end was coming. We laughed in their faces and turned away, unwilling to listen and unable to wrap our minds around the idea of total destruction.

And then it came, just as they said it would. Not slowly and gradually but like an explosion in the middle of the day. I assume it happened everywhere but I can’t be sure because all modern technologies stopped working. People didn’t die – at least, I never saw any bodies – they just disappeared, as if they’d been hovered up by a big vacuum cleaner in the sky.

I don’t know why I’m still here and I don’t know where I’m going either. Behind me everything is barren and dark. Ahead of me I see an inviting light. A voice in my head warns me the light may not be the friendly, welcoming phenomena I want it to be but it scares me less than the empty darkness behind me so I keep on moving forward.

I have no idea where the cat came from although I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen it before. It accompanies me towards the light and I’ve decided to take it as a good sign. After all, everybody knows cats have nine lives and this one looks young enough to still have most if not all of them left.

When we reach the light it embraces us. My feet leave the ground and I stop being curious and afraid. New beginning or end - I don’t know and no longer care. I concentrate on the cat’s meows and think nine lives before closing my eyes. 

****

Coming Out Part 2: I Do

Last Monday I posted a flash fiction story titled Coming Out in which my character worried about the Irish referendum on Marriage Equality and what it would mean if the Irish voters decided no. For the first time ever I ended my flash with the words ‘to be continued’. Today I’m delighted to present my happy ending.

I Do (Coming Out Part 2)

I’ve cried all day. Tears settled in my eyes at nine o’clock this morning and every time one fell it was replaced by a new one. Tears of joy. Nobody can erase the past, but the people of Ireland, the people who could have rejected me and others who love like me, have instead shown their acceptance. From this day forward I’ll be the same as everybody else; it’s all I’ve ever wanted.

I listen to the radio. This is supposed to be a sport programme but all the rules are broken today. A man talks about his eighty-two year old granny who hadn’t voted in years but came out this time to support him. The tears are back. Happy tears.

“Are you ever gonna stop crying?” Ian’s voice is tender and he doesn’t sound much more stable than I feel at the moment.

I just shake my head and smile. The words aren’t there so I allow myself to feel and trust that he reads me well enough to hear what I’m not saying.

“Can I ask you a question?” Ian sounds shy and maybe for the first time today I tear my attention away from my computer and the radio and look at him, really look.

“Of course. You can ask me anything.” I answer.

I don’t properly understand what’s happening when he bends his legs and goes down on one knee. His beautiful blue eyes are fixed on my face as he takes a deep breath and pulls something from his pocket.

“Will you marry me, Rory?”

The tears are no longer slow or few; they flow from my eyes in a steady stream.

As I nod my head to tell Ian yes I do, bright light filters in through the window. I touch Ian’s cheek and turn his head so he can see it too. 

Flash Fiction: Loved at Last

Loved at Last

This is what happiness feels like. I didn’t believe I would ever know the feeling. I’d dreamed about it, but I’d had no confidence it would ever come my way.

I’d watched as others found their place in life. They’d made it look so easy. One look, a smile, and next thing they knew, they’d been swept up in a world filled with love and affection.

It never happened for me though. I was stuck in the background – ignored, somehow not good enough. I’d never managed to figure out what made those others more worthwhile than me. All any of us wanted was to be loved and cherished, and to give our affection in return. I couldn’t deny it though. The evidence was clear for all to see.

It hurt. Jealousy and frustration took over. Why couldn’t I be like the others? Why had I been created differently? Trying to hide who and what I was, was never an option, so why couldn’t others accept and embrace me?

I was ready to give up. I mean, how long could anyone live in a closet or hide on a shelf before all hope disappeared? I tried to stay in a positive frame of mind. Time and again I told myself my turn would come, that one day someone would recognize the beauty in me and make me theirs. But as days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, without anybody giving me a second glance, it became first harder and then impossible to pretend, even to myself.

A few days ago something happened. I’m not sure why, but I suddenly found myself in the foreground, visible to all. It scared me. After all those months of being nearly invisible, feeling all those eyes on me freaked me out. Part of me didn’t think it would make a difference. If I’d been special enough, I would have been noticed before, despite being hidden in the background.  

I prepared for ridicule. I waited for the nasty remarks and the smirks. Why would anyone be interested in me? The world had made it perfectly clear I didn’t deserve to find that special place.

Then he smiled at me. The words he spoke as he took me off the shelf play on a never-ending loop in my mind: you are perfect and exactly what I’ve been looking for.

And now, here I am on a soft bed, surrounded by chocolates and hearts. Love and lust fill the atmosphere. Hope – an emotion I’d given up on – blooms in my heart again.

I was wrong and I’m happy to admit it. My difference didn’t make me less; it made me more special. The right time had to come around for me to find my place in this world.

Patience is a virtue, especially for a Valentine’s Day Teddy bear.

***

With thanks to Brigham Vaughn for finding this picture and to Pauline McCormack for giving me the inspiration I needed to write the story. Don’t forget to visit the Monday Flash Fics group on Facebook to find out what other stories this picture inspired.

Flash Fiction: The End of the World

The End of the World as We Know It

“Are you sure about this?”

Alex turned to Chris. “Yes. I am. Aren’t you? I thought we’d talked this out. Don’t you agree?”

Chris looked towards the horizon and the terrible beauty it portrayed. “I just can’t believe it. Yes, we did talk about it and yes I did – do – agree. I guess I didn’t expect the moment to actually arrive.” He felt Chris’s gaze and had no trouble imagining the two dark green – almost brown – eyes boring holes into him, but he refused to turn his head.

“Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts.”  Alex voice held a devastating mix of doubt, fear and anger and Chris wanted to kick himself. Why couldn’t he be strong and sure like Alex. His boyfriend was right. They had spent endless nights talking about what they would do when they reached this point. They’d weighed all their options, rejected impractical and fantastical ideas until they’d arrived at the only logical conclusion.

“Listen.” Alex’s tone of voice had changed. “If you’d rather do something else, just say so. I’m not going to force you into anything you’re not one hundred percent behind.”

“What? No.” Chris could hear the panic in his own voice. “We’re in this together. It’s just...”

Alex said nothing and Chris had to silently admit there wasn’t anything he could say. It had all been said before.

“I always imagined the end of the world would look something like this.” Talk about melodramatic. Chris wasn’t impressed with himself right now. Why couldn’t he follow Alex’s example and stop second guessing their plan.

“Yeah.” Alex stopped walking and in doing so forced Chris to stand still as well. “The orange light combined with the black clouds is rather apocalyptic, isn’t it?

Shivers ran down Chris’s spine. “That sky tells the tale of an ending.”

Alex pulled at his hand and Chris turned. When Alex lifted his chin, Chris looked up. The kiss started off soft before Alex put more pressure behind the contact between their lips. Chris couldn’t help it. Despite his worries and doubts his body responded to Alex as it always did.

Lips parted and the kiss deepened. Alex sucked Chris’s tongue into his mouth and Chris felt his mood lighten, as if Alex had also drawn his second thoughts out of him. He could do this. The time had arrived. There was no way back. They had to keep on going forward and face whatever came next.

When Alex pulled back Chris was almost calm.

“Are you okay now?”

“Yes.” Chris felt the smile stretch across his face. “I’m fine and I’m ready to do this.”

The grin on Alex’s face was all the reward Chris needed. “You’re right. It will be the end of the world as we know it but we are signing that lease and we will be fine...together.”

***

This weeks inspirational picture was chosen by Theo Fenraven.

Changes:

Brigham Vaughn and I have decided to change the way we do are Monday Flash Fictions. We have created a Monday Flash Fic group on Facebook and opened it to anyone who’d like to join in, both readers and writers. If you visit the group today you will find links to the flashes written by Brigham, Theo Fenraven, and me. Hopefully next week a few more writers will have joined us. I’ve copied the ‘rules’ for participating below.

Rules for Taking Part:

1. Join the Monday Flash Fics group on Facebook.
2. On Monday, Helena or Brigham will post the pic prompt for the following week. 
3. Write your story and keep it under 500 words.
4. Post it on your blog on Monday.
5. Post a link in the comments of the pic prompt in the Flash Fic group.

It’s meant to be a creative exercise for authors and something fun for readers to enjoy, so don’t sweat it.

Authors:
Join us when the mood strikes and you have the time. If you can’t manage to keep it under 500 words, well, we’re not going to hunt you down. It’s a good challenge to limit the word count, but don’t stress if your final word count is more like 507.

Readers:
Share links and comment on the blogs.

Everyone:
Feel free to submit inspiration pics in the group by attaching it as a file or sending a PM to either Helena or Brigham.

We’re looking forward to writing and reading with you in the Monday Flash Fic Group.

Flash Fiction: The First Bounce

The First Bounce

Paul’s breathing stalled when Conor pulled the car up in front of the house where they both rented a room. Paul turned his head from side to side taking in both the place he called home and the multi-coloured copy of it squeezed into the side garden.

“Happy birthday.” Conor smiled but there was a trace of uncertainty in his voice.

“That’s for me?” Paul whispered the words.

“Well, it’s only here for the weekend, but yes, it’s for you.”

Paul tore his eyes away from the surprise and stared at Conor.

“You remembered.”

I couldn’t have forgotten if I wanted to. Conor didn’t speak the words as they popped into his head.

Paul had been reluctant to talk about his past. For six months all Conor had known was that Paul had grown up in the inner city and in poverty. Even during the four subsequent months, as they had gotten closer and trust had slowly been established, Paul had been reluctant to tell him more. There’d been hints though. Paul never joined into talks about Christmas or birthday celebrations. The first few months he’d seemed lost whenever they went to a party, unsure about the protocol when it came to presents.

It had only come together for Conor the day they’d gone for a walk through the neighbourhood and passed a house with a kid’s party in full swing. The shouts of joy coming from the bouncy castle had made them stop to watch.

“That looks like so much fun.” Paul’s words as much as the wistful note in his voice had touched something deep inside Conor, and he’d made his decision there and then.

“Come, have a look.” Conor pushed Paul ahead of him towards the blow-up house. “Take your shoes off before you go in.” Paul looked dumbstruck when he glanced at Conor before bending to untie his laces and kicking his shoes off.

Conor held back as Paul wobbled his way towards the entrance. Paul didn’t know it but within the hour they’d be joined by their friends and Conor’s family. Paul was about to have his first birthday party ever; Conor was determined to make it unforgettable.

When the house stopped moving Conor knew Paul had discovered the addition he’d made to the interior. Only then did he follow Paul in.

Conor’s lover stood stock still, staring ahead of him. Conor approached him and wrapped his arms around Paul’s waist. “Do you like it?”

The grin on Paul’s face when he turned his head was more than worth all the hassle it had been to get this organised and keep it secret.

“I love it. But...” Paul pointed at the object on the floor in front of them.

Conor smiled at the man he loved, before looking back at the mattress.

“We’ll be partying and bouncing with friends today. Tonight we’ll do some bouncing in private. We’re going to more than make up for lost time.”

***

This week's picture was chosen by Theo Fenraven. Brigham Vaughn's interpretation can be found on her wonderful blog, here. And this week we've got my co-writer, Jaycee Edward, joining us. Have a look at her inspired story on her blog, here.

Flash Fiction: My Man

My Man

I take a moment to stare at him. His beauty still takes my breath away, just as his playfulness makes me smile. Trust Craig to strip naked in the barn and not worry about who might walk in. Sure, he’s covered the vital parts, but he’s left little enough to the imagination. I can’t stop looking at him. My mind buzzes with images of my hands exploring his skin, feeling his muscles flex and his nipples harden. I know exactly what I’ll find under the strategically placed straw and have no doubt it will once again make my heart stutter and my mind and body fly.

Voices outside tear me out of my thoughts and back into reality and I turn around to slide the large door closed. I don’t want the truth to come out like this. I don’t know how others will react to our coming together. It’s almost time to share our secret, but this is not the moment.

“I want you Jordan.”

His voice is deep and husky. I love my ability to do that to Craig. Even fully dressed I stir this need in him, just as his presence never fails to arouse me. I turn around and open the top button on my shirt. His gaze is fixed on my hand as I slowly undo one button after the other until I shrug the shirt off and stand before him bare-chested.

“Stop teasing. Come to me. I need to be inside you.”

I love the desire in his voice as much as the fact that it’s the result of the sight of  me.

I run my hands over my chest until my nipples peak as his breathing becomes laboured. I keep it up until he’s almost out of patience and his flexing muscles tell he’s about to get up and claim me. Only then do I unbutton my trousers. I turn my back on him before lowering them. Craig sucks in his breath when as he realises I’ve gone commando for him.

My boots prevent me from kicking my trousers off and I take my time removing them, allowing him to enjoy the view I know he loves. When I’m naked I turn around again and resume stroking my hands over my body.

“Get rid of the straw.” The heat is audible in my voice as well now.

I walk towards him as he clears his groin. He hasn’t touched me with anything but his gaze and yet my body is ready to receive him. I climb on the straw and lower myself onto his straining cock, taking him in with one slow move.

I bend forward and kiss him before whispering, “Tonight we’ll tell them about the stable hand who seduced the ranch owner’s daughter.”

***

I hope you enjoyed this week's Flash. This week's picture was selected by the wonderful Brigham Vaughn. Don't forget to visit her blog to find out what this picture inspired Brigham to write. We'll be back next week with another flash.

Flash Fiction: Strong Enough

 “This is stupid. Just take me home again.” Ryan’s eyes flashed with anger and resentment.

Peter wasn’t ready to give up quite yet though. They’d come this far and everything was ready, he wasn’t about to give up less than 50 meters from the finish line.

Just getting Ryan here had taken endless talking, arguing and something uncomfortably close to emotional blackmail. Shame filled Peter as he remembered the moment when he’d told Ryan to stop being selfish.

“You can go out with me. Just once won’t kill you. I’d like to spend an evening doing something other than watching television for a change.”

It had been impossible to miss Ryan’s flinch when he heard those words. The pain reflected in Ryan’s eyes had almost made him apologize and backtrack, but he’d stopped himself.

“Peter, you can’t pull the chair through that grass. It’ll get stuck.” Ryan sounded resigned rather than angry and Peter wasn’t sure which was harder to listen to.

It had been a long six weeks for both of them. Immediately after the accident they’d both just been happy they’d survived the crash. It had taken a few days before they’d realised what Ryan’s prognosis meant. He’d be in a wheelchair for at least three months after which he’d have to go through months of rehabilitation with no guarantee that he’d ever get all power in his legs back.

Peter bent his knees and knelt in front of Ryan’s chair.

“Just wrap your arms around my neck. We’re nearly there. Our dinner awaits around the corner there. I’ll carry you.”

He didn’t turn his head to look at Ryan while he spoke – all too aware how much Ryan hated being dependent on others...on him.

Getting up with Ryan on his back was harder than Peter could have imagined but he made it. He fixed his eyes on the spot he had to reach and concentrated on getting there.

If this didn’t work he’d no idea what to try next. He could see Ryan retreating from the world in front of his eyes and unless he found a way to get Ryan interested in life again.... Peter stopped himself from pursuing the thought.

It wasn’t fair that Ryan - who’d always been on the move, played three different team sports, and actually enjoyed working out - might face a future with limited mobility. But Peter knew without a doubt that if Ryan gave up - if he surrendered to his darkest fears now - he’d no hope of getting better.

Ten more steps to the corner. Ryan had been quiet during Peter’s slow progress. Peter concentrated and counted down from ten. When he reached three he coughed. Three steps later, as he rounded the corner, hundreds of lights sprang to life and recreated the night sky over his head. Ahead of them family and friends burst into Happy Birthday to you.

Ryan’s grip relaxed and he laughed softly.

“I love you, you bastard.”

***

With thanks to Allison Hickman for choosing this wonderful picture. Don’t forget to visit Brigham Vaughn’s blog for your chance to enjoy what this photo inspired her to write. We'll be back next Monday with another picture and two more stories.

Flash Fiction: Pet Hate

Welcome to another installment of Flash Fiction Monday. This week's picture was chosen by me. I hope it brought my brilliant partner in crime, Brigham Vaughn, the inspiration she needed. You can find her interpretation found here.

I hope you’ll enjoy our flashes. Please let us know in the comments and don’t forget to join us again next week.

Just goes to show what I know.

The words shoot through my head as he brushes his lips against mine again. He exerts more pressure this time, trying to gain entrance and I’m only too delighted to grant it.

It’s hard to believe it’s only been three days since I cursed myself and my inability to say no. When my elderly neighbour came and asked me if I would look after her dog for a few weeks I suspected her of joking. I’d told her often enough how much I disliked pets, especially the larger, hair-shedding variety. And yet here she was, not only expecting me to walk and feed her failed Dalmatian but also take him into my apartment. My mind screamed no while my mouth said yes.

The first morning after she’d left, it pissed from the heavens. I glared at Percival as he stood expectantly by the door, wagging his tail at me. We went out only because I figured getting wet would be less frustrating than having to clean up whatever messes he might leave in my house if I didn’t.

I never saw him coming. I stared at the path in front of me as I tried to figure out how long I’d have to walk through the rain before I could reasonably take the dog back home. Percival pulled on his leash with so much force he nearly tripped me up. The steadying hand took me by surprise. The beautiful face smiling at me when I looked up almost took my breath away. His name is Kevin.

The next morning I made sure to leave the house at the same time. The Gods must have been with me because the sun shone and I saw him and his black canine as soon as I entered the park. My heart stuttered when his face lit up as soon as he noticed me too. We walked our dogs together for an hour that passed way to fast.

“Are you in a hurry?” Kevin smiled at me. He’d waited for me again this morning.

“No hurry at all.” I’d taken the day off work even if I didn’t know why when I made the call.

“Good. It’s a nice day. Let’s walk on.” Kevin’s smile turned into a happy grin.

We left the park, walked and chatted. I told him Percival isn’t mine. He told me he got his dog from an animal rescue place. The two dogs got on like a house on fire, maybe taking their cue from us.

And now we’re here. His tongue gently plays with mine as we explore each other’s mouths. I’m vaguely aware of a couple walking past us, the man huffing as if annoyed and the girl tut-tutting him. I don’t care. I am exactly where I want to be. And if it hadn’t been for the stupid, hair-shedding, attention demanding creature on the other end of the leash I hold.... I don’t even want to think about that.