Wednesday Briefs!

t’s time for Wednesday Briefs again! This is a group of writers/bloggers who on Wednesdays post a piece of flash fiction, between 500-1000 words, based on a prompt list sent out by the moderator. This week I decided to use the picture prompt of some really delicious looking fries I really had fun writing this short. Aber and Colt start date night. As always the other blogs will be linked below, so once just follow the jump cut and once you’ve finished with my piece, go ahead and check out the others!

Week One Week Two
Week Three Week Four

 

 

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Wednesday Briefs!

It’s time for Wednesday Briefs again! This is a group of writers/bloggers who on Wednesdays post a piece of flash fiction, between 500-1000 words, based on a prompt list sent out by the moderator. This week I decided to use the prompt “Who Are You?” I really had fun writing this short. Aber collects some data for her research, and runs into someone who’s looking for Colt. As always the other blogs will be linked below, so once you’ve finished with my piece, go ahead and check out the others!

Week 1 Week 2 Week 3

Aber followed along the winding path, patches of sunlight cutting through the evergreen canopy. The trails were muddy from an earlier rain, and she kept a tight grip on her hiking stick. Her day pack was heavy duty canvas and weighed her down but she had slipped a couple times coming off of the trailhead. The walkie-talkie at her shoulder hummed with static, her only tie to the ranger’s station if things went south. The main trail turned left, and she climbed over a fallen tree to continue on a game trail. She paused, pulling her hunter orange cap lower on her brow and pushed down the sleeves of her shirt. It was cooler here, and the deeper into the woods she went the more persistent the bugs were.

There was no way she was going to spend her date with Colt scratching. Not when there were other, more fun itches to scratch–paths that more often than not her thoughts had turned to. She shook her head, and continued down the narrow trail. A massive hemlock tree rose up in front of her, and she stopped, swinging her pack off her shoulders. She unlocked the metal box and took out the digital camera. She popped out the memory card, replacing it with a fresh one, and changed the batteries before replacing, and relocking the camera in place.

The trap cameras were the main part of her research. They snapped pictures of animals and their movements whenever the creatures tripped the motion sensor line. She had ten cameras set on a ten mile loop. A few times a week she went out and gathered up the memory cards and checked for other physical proof of predatory patterns.

Cameras two and three were easily accessible, and she swapped those out without any problems. Camera four was at the top of a ridge. When she had plotted out where the cameras were going, Aber hadn’t expected anything to show up except for the occasional goat. Instead a wolf had started to show up rather consistently, and sit in the path of the camera. If she knew any better she would have said that the wolf was playing for the camera.

Sweaty and muttering under her breath, Aber crested the ridge. Two men stood by the gnarled pine that she had fixed the camera box to talking. The breeze carried their words away from her. One was tall, dressed in jeans and a plaid flannel shirt. Over the top he wore a vest in the same screaming hunter orange color as her cap. The other man was dressed in a ranger uniform. Aber considered Colt to be tall and well built, but the ranger put him to shame. He towered over the hunter, and was broad, built like a football player. Long blond hair was tied into a savage knot at the nape of his neck.

“Can I help you?” Aber said. Her identification and permits were clipped to her bag, and she unclipped them as she approached the men. When she got closer she could see that the box was smashed.

“Is this yours?” The ranger said. He took her identification and smiled. “Glad to put a face and a name to a voice, Aber.” He handed them back. “I’m Finn, I’m normally the one you check in with while you’re on the trail.”

Aber relaxed, recognizing the rough voice. “The camera?” She hoped that it wasn’t damaged but from the look of the box the chances were highly unlikely that it made it out unscathed.

“It’s fine.” The other man said. He had an accent that she couldn’t quite place. He had the same height and build as Colt, but was still dwarfed by Finn.

“Who are you?”

“Riven,” He said, and turned to hand her the camera. Aber bit back a gasp when she saw his face in the full sun. Deep, furrowed scars ran from his temple, down his face and neck and disappeared under the collar of his shirt. The hand that offered the camera had fresh stitches in it, his skin discolored with bruises. In a strange way the scars didn’t take away from his features, but brought them to light creating a complex beauty.

“Thanks.” She said. Riven looked away, posturing so his scars were out of her line of sight.

“I have to call for a new box.” She tugged on the dented metal and it came off in her hands. “These things cost more than the cameras.” She dropped her pack to the ground and managed to shove the box inside.

“Aber, do you want me to take you to the other cameras?” Finn asked her. “I’ve got the jeep downhill.”

“I’ll be fine, thanks though.” She adjusted the pack and swung it up onto her back.

“You were going to take me to Colt, asshole.” Riven shoved at Finn. “I’m the cripple here.”

“Yeah, but she’s a lady.” Finn shoved back. Aber shifted her weight, unsure at first, but realizing that they were playing with each other.

“You said that about your mom–she wasn’t much of a lady last night Rhett.” Riven said howling with laughter.

“Don’t call me that, you stupid son of a bitch.” Finn said through clenched teeth.

“Yup.” Riven said, a wide smile on his face. He went down laughing, crashing to the ground as Finn tackled him. They wrestled around, all arms and legs and a lot of cursing. Aber watched, fascinated and amused by how the two men interacted. She only had an older sister, and never dreamed of talking to Zoey like that.

“You alright Aber?” Finn said as she scooted past them. She nodded, lips twitching when Riven flipped them, thumping Finn to the ground.

“I’ll check in with the station as I go.” Her fingers brushed the walkie out of habit. “Say hi to Colt for me, will you?”

She took off, pausing halfway down the hill when she heard Riven’s incredulous:

“That’s the Aber?”

~~~

I hope you enjoyed this week’s short. If you’d like to leave a comment please go ahead and do so. I’m going to continue with this story for a few more weeks at least as I world build some more. I’ve been bitten by this muse and it might end up being pulled and turned into something much bigger. But for now, please enjoy the weekly installations.

Please check out the other authors and show them some support!

Nephylim
Elyzabeth VaLey
A.R. Von
MA Church
Lily Sawyer
Victoria Adams
Rob Colton
Cia Nordwell
Tali Spencer
Julie Lynn Hayes

Wednesday Briefs

It’s time for Wednesday Briefs again! This is a group of writers/bloggers who on Wednesdays post a piece of flash fiction, between 500-1000 words, based on a prompt list sent out by the moderator. This week I decided to use the prompt “Use Popcorn in some way” I really had fun writing this short. Aber and Colt give in to something that’s between them. As always the other blogs will be linked below, so once you’ve finished with my piece, go ahead and check out the others!

Week One Week Two

The kitchen was large for the size of the cabin, and Colt had made himself right at home. Aber watched him as he tackled the sink filled with dirty pots and pans. He had rolled his sleeves up to the elbows, hints of tanned skin combined with the lines of his tattoos and the muscles of his forearm made it very difficult to concentrate at her own task.

She had spent most of the day cleaning and rearranging the cabin and Colt had shown up early. His motorcycle was parked next to her dingy beat up Jeep, his black leather boots next to her muddy hiking boots. Something pulled in the back of her mind, something that sounded suspiciously like her mother asking why she wasn’t focused more on obtaining a good husband–rather than ‘traipsing around in the woods’.

“You’re frowning.” Colt said, and placed the last pan in the dish drain. “What’s on your mind?” He wiped his hands on the back of his jeans, and faced her.

“Mom issues.” Aber said with a half hearted shrug. “She doesn’t understand my research.” She liked the way Colt listened to her, his head tipped slightly, eyes on her face, his hands in his pockets, posture relaxed.

His hair brushed his collar, and she once more swallowed the urge to reach out and touch it. Reacting purely on base instinct would go against everything that she stood for, defy all the walls she had built around her. She treasured their friendship, despite the newness and the foreign feeling of connecting with someone outside of her academic circle.

“I’ve tried everything to get her behind me. I’ve taken her on observations, taken her to Wolf Haven, but she just thinks I should focus on other things.” Aber pulled a heavy bottomed saucepan from the cabinet, and a container of popcorn kernels from the freezer. She added a spoonful of Crisco to the pan, let it melt on the stove before shaking in a handful of unpopped kernels.

“That’s tough.” Colt said. “I’m sorry,” He paused, shifted his weight. “Can I come on an observation?”

“You’re interested in my research?” She shook the pot as the popcorn began to cook. She tipped the fluffy white goodness into a paper bag and started over.

“I like wolves, they’re big dogs right?” Colt said. His lips twitched up into a smile.

“At the base level yes,” Aber said. “But there’s so much more to it.” She took a breath, and steadied herself. Rather than winding up in an impromptu lecture she grinned at him. “In answer to your question, I would love the company.” She dumped more popcorn into the paper bag and refilled her pot for a third time.

While she was occupied with the stove, her back was to him. Though she couldn’t see him, she was innately aware of his movements. It took him six steps to cross the kitchen. The heat from his body washed over her, the hairs at the nape of her neck standing on end.

“I was thinking we were just going to open bags of microwave stuff.” His voice did in fact make his chest vibrate when he spoke. Color rose on her cheeks, and she took a calming breath. One arm circled her waist, the other appeared in her line of sight to snag a handful of popcorn from the bag. Each point of contact was a almost too warm to handle, his chest to her shoulders, the press of his fingers against her side, all in all making it really hard to concentrate.

“Heathen,” Aber muttered. “Don’t eat it all like that. I have to put salt and butter on it.” She dumped a fourth load of popcorn into the bag which filled it. She turned the stove off, moved the pot to a cool element and leaned back, allowing herself to be engulfed in Colt’s hold. It was something that she had wanted after their first meeting. His scent overwhelmed her, intoxicated her, spicy and warm–earthy, something completely masculine and unforgiving.

She traced the fading lines of his tattoo, the skin prickling into goose-bumps under her touch. She felt his breath quicken, his hold tightening on her. Aber shifted her weight slightly, the movement bringing them flush together. The press of Colt’s hips against the small of her back made her heart pound frantically in her chest. The solid strength of the man behind her, holding her ever tighter, ever closer. Nervous laughter bubbled up and she tipped her head back to look up at him. He moved when she did, head lowering, his fingers at her chin, tipping her head back even more, capturing her mouth with his.

His kiss was firm and demanding, Aber rising on her toes to grant him better access. Time passed in heartbeats, the brush of his fingers against the skin of her hip when her shirt rode up slightly, her fingers finding purchase in his hair, tugging him closer. Colt’s moan moved through her, his kiss growing more possessive, claiming, and she responded in the like, wanting it, wanting him. The rational side of her shrieked for caution, only to be blindsided by the warmth of his hand skimming the flat of her stomach. She tugged his lower lip with her teeth as they separated, his eyes dark and heavy lidded.

“Party foul, Hunter.” Ryann said from the doorway. Aber scrambled to break the hold and step away from the man her body was screaming for.

“You’re supposed to make out during the movies. Not before.” She too entered the kitchen, plunking a case of beer on the counter. “Make yourself useful and stick those in the fridge for us, Colty. I’ll go get the pizza. Try to behave.” She said, waving a hand in greeting at Aber as she left as quickly as she came.

~~

I hope you enjoyed this week’s short. If you’d like to leave a comment please go ahead and do so. I’m going to continue with this story for a few more weeks at least as I world build some more. I’ve been bitten by this muse and it might end up being pulled and turned into something much bigger. But for now, please enjoy the weekly installations.

Please check out the other authors and show them some support!

Tali Spencer
Cia Nordwell
MA Church
Victoria Adams
A.R. Von
Elyzabeth VaLey
Julie Lynn Hayes
Rob Colton
Andrew Gordon
Lily Sawyer

Wednesday Briefs.

Hi everyone! This is my first time participating in Wednesday Briefs Flash Fiction, and I’m really excited about it. Unfortunately I didn’t have time to make a pretty title card for this week’s offering, but I’ll spend some time doing that later today (along with some headers for other blog posts). I probably went a little subtle with the prompts I chose this week: motorcycle and wings, but I like the way they made themselves known. After you’ve read mine, please check out the other participant’s pieces. I’ll have them all linked after my piece.

I hope you enjoy, and thank you for reading.

Guardian of the Wolves.
week one.
By Shelly Schulz

From inside the diner she couldn’t see the brilliant lighting that arced across the sky; the following peal of thunder, she felt. It rattled her bones along with the windows. The overhead lights swung and flickered, and she sent a quick prayer to whoever was listening that the electricity would hold. Aber scrubbed at the petrified smear of jelly on one of the plastic tabletops. Another loud thunder clap sent her under the table, though she told herself it was to pick up the wad of napkins on the floor.

“Hello?”

The greeting startled her, and she thumped her head against the underside of the table. Crawling out from under it, she found herself eye level with denim clad kneecaps. A hand appeared in her line of vision, and she took it, feeling the rough scrape of calloused fingertips as the man pulled her to her feet.

“Sorry, I was…” Aber shrugged and showed the wad of napkins. “What can I do for you?” She stepped away from him, and shoved the trash into the pocket of her apron.

“Coffee would be great. Storm’s too bad to ride in.” His voice was warm and rich, low enough that Aber imagined she’d be able to feel the vibrations of his chest when he spoke.

“Take a seat anywhere you like.” The diner was empty except for the two of them. She started for the kitchen. “I’ll be right out with the coffee. Want a piece of pie or anything?” She added as afterthought when he sat on one of the stools at the counter. “The chocolate silk pie is really good.”

“I’m allergic to chocolate.” He spun once, twice on the stool, and Aber had to bite back a grin. The man was well over six feet tall and built like a wall.

“Banana crème then.” She pushed through the double doors, tossing the wad of napkins into the trash, and washed her hands. A large slice of banana crème pie was added to a plate and she carried it out along with a mug and a pitcher of coffee.

He swiveled the stool back and forth, catching himself before he went around completely. His leather jacket was draped over the stool next to him, a motorcycle helmet on the other side. He spun too hard, his arms cording with the effort to keep from going full circle. His forearms were tattooed, the faded ink blending at times with sun kissed skin. He was nice enough to look at, she thought as she set the pie down in front of him. His nose was crooked like he had broken it a couple times, his eyes were hazel ringed with gold, but the feature she couldn’t take her eyes off of was his mouth. Full, sensual and completely out of place on a man who was taking boyish glee in the fact that the stupid stool he sat on spun.

Thunder clapped again, the lights actually going out for a few seconds before buzzing back to life. Her hand shook slightly as she poured the coffee into the mug. “Sorry, I don’t like the storms.”

“My Gran used to tell me stories that the thunder was because God ate a bunch of beans and had gas.” He said bringing a massive forkful of pie to his mouth. He winked at her and swallowed before taking another bite of pie.

She bit her lower lip, trying not to laugh at the statement, and failed. “My dad is a man of science. He would sit up with me and tell me that it was just the expansion of the air due to the electrical charge of the lightning.”

“I like my Gran’s theory better. It’s got a certain romanticism.”

“Trust a man to think farts are romantic.” She tipped more coffee into his mug. His laugh was big and bold, she wanted to wrap herself up in the sound.

“What about you Aber? Are you a romantic or a woman of science?” It took her a moment to remember that she had a name tag pinned to her t-shirt.

“A scientist,” She replied. “I’m doing research on the large predator species of the Pacific Northwest. The grant money covers my equipment and house, but doesn’t exactly help with anything else.”

“Any particular focus?” He finished off the pie, and wiped his mouth with a napkin. The tattoos moved and rippled with the action.

“Wolves mainly. What is your tattoo of?”

“Angel wings.” He put his elbows together, forearms facing her. The faded lines formed feathery wings. She almost reached out to trace along one of the lines but pulled her hand back.

A tremendous clap of thunder rattled the building once more. An electric buzz filled the diner before it plunged into darkness. Aber clutched at the counter, the hard surface grounding her as she squinted into the near tangible darkness. “Don’t leave.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“I’m not going to. I’m just locking the door.” She could hear him moving around, and the metallic click of the lock sliding into place. “We’ll wait out the storm here. It’s not safe on the bike, and I’m not going to leave you by yourself.”

She fumbled for her phone, and turned on the flashlight app, which previously she thought was useless. The light was bright enough to illuminate a few feet around her. “Well then,” she said, willing her voice to stay steady. “Since we’re stuck here why don’t you tell me your name.”

“Colt Hunter,” He said. In the dim light she could see him open the pastry case and remove two plates. He set one in front of her and kept the other to himself. “Cherry pie and the ambiance of a cell phone glow. Quite romantic, don’t you think?”

Aber rolled her eyes at that, but couldn’t stop the smile that came to her lips.

Be sure to come back next week for the next brief.

Here are the other Wednesday Briefs for you to visit and check out! Share some love.

A.R. Von
Lily Sawyer
MA Church
Nephylim
Cia Nordwell
Tali Spencer
Victoria Adams
Elyzabeth VaLey
Julie Lynn Hayes
Andrew Q Gordon