What’s Your Favourite Kind Of Movie Scene?….. #amwriting

 

 

Didi and I are feeling a little (extra) creative this week. Are you a movie lover? For this week’s short story writing prompt, what’s your favourite kind of movie or scene in a movie? Is it action & adventure, erotic, romantic comedy, thriller and suspense… what?? We’ll create this week’s #kdsuspense short story, by starting the story randomly, using the  type of  movie scene with the most votes. We’ve left off a horror scene as … well… we wrote that  genre last week. Did you miss it ? It had blood, gore,sex and more 18 + reading. Read it here.  Thank you for voting! Don’t forget to write with us. We’d love to read your work. Post the link on one of our pages to see.

 

This Is How Kim & Didi’s Suspenseful Collection Works!

We never discuss beforehand how a story should go or who writes what. It’s a surprise for each other to see how their story ends, or what lands in their inbox to finish off.

This interactive writing challenge is simple and insanely creative. It’s a group effort and we are so glad to have you join in the writing fun!!  I hope you’re ready to challenge us by choosing which prompts we can transform into stellar suspense!  Give us your best shot!  You vote on our weekly prompt, and we provide the entertainment. It’s that simple!  The super easy steps are as follows:

STEP ONE: Every Wednesday we’ll post a voting poll with a few prompts to choose from.
STEP TWO: With the click of a button, you cast your vote on a prompt. (voting will stay open for three days.) Once the winning prompt is announced you can join us and write a story too. Use #kdsuspense to link in.
STEP THREE: READ AND ENJOY!  Every week on the following Tuesday we will post the short story that transformed from the very winning prompt.

Read Previous Stories Here!

Wk #3 Volume 2: Chainsaw Ridge- A Short story (Blood, Sex, Gore + More) #kdsuspsense #amwriting #horror

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18+ Reading! Adult Content Alert.

Chainsaw Ridge

Author One Scene One

“Alice!”

The voice is a blend of husky and shrill, like nails on a chalkboard. Alice cringes at the sound of it.

“Alice.” It repeats. “You better answer me, dammit!”

“Yes, daddy.”

The rickety steel framed bed creaks as Alice rolls onto her side. She’s cradled by the dip in the overly used and extremely stained mattress, that she’s been sleeping on for nearly twenty years. The same bed she slept in as a toddler. A waft of her uncleansed flesh floats into the air with her movements. The sour pinch of the smell wins its competition with the week old garbage pile to her side. Alice mozies to the window of her bedroom to let some breeze in, as she listens to her crippled father’s voice. She knows full well what’s coming.

“My babies are starvin’, get yer fat ass out there and feed em’.”

“M’kay, daddy.”

“We’re runnin’ low on chow,” he shouts through the thin wall separating them. “It’s time ya’ go ta’ town and pick up some feed.”

“‘M’kay, daddy.”

Alice answers his barking orders, completely numb to what the request entails.

“Well, get to it! An’ make it snappy. I wanna’ watch ya’ prep the meat before dark.”

“Yes sir.”

Alice’s nose pleads for the fresh earthy scent of the white oak forest that she can see in the distance. That luxury is denied, and only the rotten smell of her father’s pig farm bites into her room. They grunt and pop their jaws searching their large shit filled pens for dinner. Directly below Alice’s window, everything about the hogs gave her nightmares. Especially what they’re fed. She complies with her father’s wishes either way.

At a very young age, Alice was taught exactly how much a pig can consume. Teeth, bone, everything. They don’t even shit it out the evidence, their bodies absorb every last bit. After a while the horrid screams of her father’s victims became nothing but routine, a familiar sound fighting its way through the forced emotionless fog of her brain. The farm is secluded, miles from Chicago where the homeless pickens have always been abundant. She learned to tune out the screams very well… Until his accident…

Alice was there when her daddy crashed, and so was the middle aged man knocked out in the back seat of the pickup. The man happened to be twice her size, so she had to take extreme measures to get the job done. It was the very day her father passed down his legacy, and the first day of his new life bound to the restraints of a wheelchair.

The sounds of that day are what playback consistently in Alice’s head. Her daddy was trapped in the truck, smashed at the waist, and the stranger had been tossed out through the front window. Alice withstood the roll completely unscathed, leaving her to clean up the mess her daddy had started. The squeals of the tires and the crunch of metal and glass were nothing compared to what came after they rolled.

“Do it, Alice.”

His voice was younger then. Still husky, but with less scratch.

“You have to kill him, Alice! Do it! Do it before he wakes up!”

Alice was only thirteen at the time. Her hands shook as she squeezed her body out of the broken glass of the truck’s windshield. In a panic she searched through the chaos of scattered shards as they glistened in the summer sun. Thousands of tiny shining chunks covered everything from the back of the truck that had been tossed out all over the pavement. Alice ran to a shovel, only to be shut down by the voice.

“You’re too small for that! Use your fuckin’ head!”

Alice dropped the shovel, her body froze. She didn’t want to do it, but knew it was up to her. They lived on a very remote place, but they couldn’t risk being seen nonetheless. She also knew that if the stranger woke up, he’d likely get away. Although Alice was very large for her age, and strong, she was still much smaller than the man. A sharp jaggedy chain shimmered in the sun, calling to her. Alice shook her head, afraid of her own thoughts.

“Do it Alice!”

Hesitantly she reached for it, her meaty fingers gripped tightly around the handle of her daddy’s chainsaw. The pit of her stomach screamed out in horror. I can’t do it, she thought, I’m not ready yet. He yelled even louder from inside the smashed truck bed while she stood staring at the stranger. Mute.

“Just fuckin’ do it, Alice!”

“Daddy I…”

“Do it now, before he fuckin’ wakes up!”

Alice swallowed the lump in her throat and pulled the chainsaw’s rope. She was no stranger to the tool having used it on the farm often, yet it still took her shaking arm a few tries. The buzz of the saw cut in and out, struggling its way to life. Rununununun, Runununununun.

“Do it!”

Finally the chainsaw’s roar became steady. Alice made her way to the man, her weapon vibrating both arms as she griped it with every bit of strength she could muster. With ease, the saw chewed through the man’s flesh like butter. Scarlet chunks painted Alice’s face with a splat. She closed her mouth to keep the taste out, and wiped the wet pieces of him from her eyes with the long sleeve of her once floral print dress. Without missing a beat she went back to work. As soon as his head rolled away from his body she held the loud running saw to his middle.

The pieces of him had to be small enough for her to carry by herself. Her daddy’s voice bounded over the destruction of her running metal weapon. Chewed up chunks of intestines spilled onto the pavement, like bloody heaps of broken rope.

“Do it!”

As Alice remembers the sounds of that day, she stares at her daddy’s pigs. It’s a new bunch of animals. Most of the hogs that had eaten her first kill are now dead. Sliced into the bacon that fills the old power sucking freezer in their dank dirty basement.There’s only one of those particular hogs left. Alice recognizes this very pig because she watched the oval black spot on top of its back, as it chewed through the skull of that man’s severed head. Each bite with a crunch. It was a tiny piglet then, now it’s gray and aged.

“Alice!”

His voice again cut through her.

“Yeah, daddy?”

“I said make it fuckin’ snappy!”

Author Two Scene Two

Alice sighed, and cut her eyes at her dad’s voice. He was a mean old bastard, her daddy. Never one to show any compassion to anyone. All he cared about were his fat pigs. She remembered in her childhood, when he was not wheelchair bound, that he’d slept with them on the hay  in the barn, right under her window. As if it were normal for folk to do that. When her mom was alive Alice swore that’s what turned her crazy. An unloving husband more interested in intercourse …. With pigs. She shuddered at the thought, and sight of it. She remembered well the day she walked in on him with his pants around his ankles, humping a pig in the ass she felt disgusted. She ran out the barn screaming and confused, not sure what to make of it all. She reasoned with herself the best thing to do was to tell Mom. She laughed as she sat by the window with her grubby shawl wrapped over her shoulders, rocking in her chair, chain smoking on a cigarette.

“Get used to it baby girl, that’s your father for you.”

Was all her mom said. In a flat unmoved tone. Gathering herself together and shaking off the early memories of her childhood. Alice walked over to the cracked mirror on the wall. She took a deep look at herself. For a woman of twenty three years old she looked nothing like her peers. Compared to all the other women her age Alice was a state. She wore her wavy dark brown hair in two French braids always, her eyebrows were unattended to, they looked more like caterpillars crawling across her face, rather than a set of threaded and plucked neat brows. Her skin was grey with lack of sunshine and vitamin D, she hardly left the house. It also had a slight dirty look to it. She was far from fashionable, even if her father had the money for her to buy the latest trends, the mean tight fisted old bastard  probably would never allow it. She donned a plain gray sundress, no matter the weather come rain or sunshine. Her dirty off white ankle socks completed her look of an unkept woman, clearly poverty stricken. On her feet a pair of worn brown sandals. Alice looked a woman trapped in a timewarp.

“I’m on my way Daddy.” She called over her shoulder as she tore her eyes from her reflection.

“Good, like I said hurry the fuck up, they’re hungry and so am I.”

The sound of his voice penetrating through the walls stuck Alice differently this time, instead of fear she felt annoyance at his demanding, unappreciative ways. She waited on him hand and foot since he became wheelchair bound. How does he thank her? … He did’nt that’s the messed up thing about it. After she pulled him from that truck and saved his life, not to mention kept his ass out of prison by disposing of the stranger’s body, he had not once thanked her.

***

As Alice made her way down the dirt gravel road from her house then took a left. She headed toward the town center. It was winter and the days had become chilly, she felt it as she pulled her worn cardigan tighter around her. The chill bit through her  to the core of her bones. With her bare legs and low ankle socks she had no protection from the chilly air.

Alice looked around her as if seeing her neighborhood for the first time, through a new set of eyes. How had life just slipped away so quickly? The years just rolled into one since her mom passed away. “Natural causes” the Dr. said, Alice found it hard to believe. Her mama was crazy yes, but apart from a slightly disturbed mind she was fit and well. It had crossed her mind that maybe, just maybe her dad had something to do with her death and “natural causes.”

She pushed the thought away as she spotted Bill up ahead.

“Hey Alice, what-chaya doin’?”

“Nothin’”

“Don’t look like nothin’ ta’ me.” Bill said as he ran over to her and stepped in line with her pace.

“I’m headin’ to town.”

“What for? An’ you walkin’ all that way?”

“Yeah, I’m walkin’”

“What for though, what ya need over there?”

“Chow.”

“Oh them damn pigs. You mean ta tell me ya father’s still got ‘em?”

“Yeah Bill, I swear he loves them more than me.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Hmm.” Was all Alice could say. Numb to any emotion regarding her dad.

“What-do- ya say we take a lil’ walk in the woods on the way?”

“Not today Bill, I gotta get going.”

“Oh C’mon, Alice… You love our walks in the woods.”

Bill took Alice’s hand and led her off the dirt road toward the woods. He was hard already at the thought of slamming Alice up against the trees. One thing he liked about Alice was she was an easy goer. She never talked much, not the intelligent type. She spread her legs and that’s all she needed to do, that was good enough for him. She liked to get fucked and had no problem with servicing two even three men in the woods at a time. Often, he wondered what caused her to be so mute and unemotional when it came to sexual relations. She seemed unfazed by it all. Alice stopped in her tracks and pulled her hand from his.

“Bill not today, I really gotta go.”

“It won’t take long, let’s go.”

Alice gave in with a sigh, she saw the twinkle in Bill’s eye as the smiled and walked ahead. She followed behind him into the depths of the woods.

***

Bill wasted no time as he grabbed Alice’s hair and bent her over. He pulled the hem of her dirty dress up, and pulled her panties to one side. Alice held onto the tree for dear life as he slammed into her. Her mind went blank as he thrust in and out of her from behind, grunting and moaning. He slowed himself down to hold back his climax, and slipped out of her. He spun her around and put her back against the tree, he looked down at her with a smirk on his face. Bill was far from handsome. He had dirty blond hair cut short, a wide forehead with a thick nose. She never focused on his looks when they were intimate in the woods. In fact, she never focused on any of the men’s looks she allowed to have their way with her. For her sex allowed her to not think or feel. All though at least someone, anyone paid attention to her during the one on one sessions, or many three or foursomes she had with the town’s men.

“Ya ganna treat me nicely today Alice, maybe suck me off a bit?.”

“Hmm, maybe.”

“Maybe, that’s not what I wanna hear.” Bill retorted as he pulled down Alice’s zipper at the back of her dress and slid it over her shoulders. She was braless, as always. Her full breasts fell out and greeted him. Bill massaged over her breasts roughly as he stared down at her. The air was now so chilly he could see his own breath as he spoke, the sight of Alice’s nipples hardening against to cool air hardened him more. He gave into temptation and lowered his mouth to her right breast, he took her nipple in his mouth and began to enjoy her. Alice tipped her head back and let out a slight moan. Her back arched against the tree as she allowed him to take her into his mouth deeper.

Bill’s hand travelled south, it made it’s way between her legs. He forced her thighs open, and slide his middle finger inside her. He felt her slickness as he finger fucked her into heaven. Alice’s eyes rolled back as she bit her her lip, Bill slid in a second finger and fucked her within an inch of her life up against the tree, as he nibbled and enjoyed her breasts at the same time. Alice panted and breathed heavy but that’s all he’d ever get from her.

For Alice secretly, this time things felt different with Bill. She felt a sense of satisfaction from the way his fingers worked her insides. Usually, her body would react in it’s normal way and she would become moist at his touch, however her internal feelings were always still numb. It was like her body had it’s own mind. Today she felt alive internally.

“Do I make you feel good Alice?”

“Hmm”

“You like that?”

“Hmm.”

Bill laughed at Alice’s response, or lack of it. He up’ed his game a little, he removed his hands from between her thighs, then dropped to his knees. With the hem of her dress pulled up she was on show for him, all of her. Without a second thought he leaned into her and put his mouth between her thighs to taste her slickness.

“Ohhhh.”

Alice lost herself control, for the first time she became verbally expressive.

Bill, got off on the reaction he caused from the usually mute Alice. He buried his head between her legs, and with his mouth set to work. He’d never given Alice head before, he usually saved that for girls that actually meant something. He’d had enough of Alice’s distant mute reactions, she now became a challenge sexually to get her to react to his touch.He pulled back to tease her and looked up at her. Alice smiled down at him, with a very satisfied look on her face.

Alice slid down the tree onto the wet grass. She spread her legs for Bill. For a moment Bill stood in front of her, and stared at her mound inviting him in. Alice, slid her hand between her leg and started to masterbate herself in a vicious way, Bill dropped to his knees. He gladly obliged and continued to service her with his mouth. As he dipped in and out of her with his tongue, and licked slowly and sofly the tip of her clitorious Alice foundled her own breasts. He watched in excitement as she squeezed, pinched and played with herself.

Bill felt like he was going to explode in his pants. He was more eager to explode on her arse.

“Get up, turn around.”

“Hmm.”

“Alice, you heard me get up and turn around c’mon I gotta go soon.”

Alice did as she was told and moved onto all fours. With her arse in the air he entered her from behind and pumped away until he exploded…. On her bare arse.

***

“Alice, Alice I’ve been waitin’ over one Goddamn hour for you. Where ya’ been?

“Nowhere Daddy.”

“Nowhere, don’t fuckin’ lie to me.”

Alice stood frozen at the entrance of the house. The musty smell of the house was drowned out by her fear. It  ran deeply through her had, she really been gone that long? Bill took her by surprise today, she never knew he could do what he did with his mouth, at twenty three years old she had no real girlfriends to learn from, and men never offered to do that before. She heard her dad wheeling his chair into the hallway. He stopped opposite her.

“Where you been?”

“No where Daddy–”

“Well that’s not the right fuckin’ answer is it? I sent you to town for the Goddamn chow and some food, ya come back here and tell me ya been nowhere? After ya been gone a fuckin’ hour?”

“I got it Daddy I got it, well I got the food but forgot the chow I’ll go back.”

Alice’s dad slowly wheeled his chair closer to her, his face twisted into a mean scowl. He he picked up a wooden stick that was within reach as he rolled forward. Pointing in Alice’s direction he began to curse her.

“You… you little bitch, ya forgot ma’ damn chow.”

“Daddy please no, don’t, not the stick, it hurts.”

“Hurts? Hurts? I’ll show you what fuckin’ hurts means.”

“Aww Daddy no, no please.”

“What… what is that? What the fuck is that smell? Alice ya smell even more disgustin’ than usual. Have you been in the woods again. Fuckin’ boys again?”

“No Daddy.”

“No Daddy.”  

He mocked in a whining voice.

“Slut!”

Alice felt the full throttle of her dad’s anger as he beat her with the wooden stick that came loose from the stair banister. It had sat in the corner of the hallway for months.

“Daddy no, please.”

A flashback of all the times Alice had walked the two miles to town in rain, snow, and anything inbetween came flooding back to her. Her anger built over the way her dad treated her mother, causing her to lose her mind.

“You, you you pervert fuckin’ pigs in the barn, you deserve to be in a wheelchair. After all I’ve done for you this is how you thank me.”

“Alice you better watch… your… mouth.” Tom responded as he beat her three times to punctuate his words.

“Fuck you! You freak.”

Before Alice could even live to regret her actions her dad was overturned on the hard dirty wood floor of the hallway. She yanked the stick from his hand with such a force his chair overturned. Tom’s face moulded from anger to fear in the space of seconds as Alice took control. He looked up at his only daughter as she stood above him. The rise and fall of her chest and deep breathing was enough to let him know, his luck had ran out when it came to bullying Alice. She pointed the wooden stick at him as she spoke down to him.

“Now,you are going to be taught a little lesson, Daddy dear.”

“Alice, you don’t know what you’re doin’. I’m your father.”

“Haha father!” Alice threw her head back mocking him with laughter. “You would not know how to be a father if it jumped up and spat in ya ugly face!”

“Alice, c’mon now.” Tom pleaded as he started to attempt to crawl away from her with his hands.

“Where do you think, you’re going?”

Alice pulled back her arms in the style of a baseball player and struck her father across the back.

Wack!

“ Awww! Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittttt! Alice for God Sake will you get me off the floor?”

“No, it’s time you learned a little lesson of your own, you shit for brains piss poor excuse of a husband and father. Wait here, oh sorry I forgot YOU’RE A FUCKIN’ INVALID YOU CAN’T MOVE!”

Alice let out a roar of laughter as she swung the bat back and beat her father around the head, face, ribs and groin area. Blood splattered all over her and the walls of the narrow damp infested hallway. Just like it had all those years ago he made her saw off that poor stranger’s head. She heard every crack of a bone, pop of of his skull and brake of his jaw. She loved it. It felt rejuvenated, after all the years of his bullshit.

“Alice, please, don’t do this please I’m–”

“Shut up! Just Shut up”

Wack!

“Awww fuck me Alice, Jesus, ya can’t do this” Tom strained to speak his slurred words through a cracked jaw.

“Poor mama, the poor woman lost her damn mind over you ya piece a-shit. Treated her like dirt, when really you were the dirty, a pig fucking dirt-bag at that. Take that ya bastard.

Wack!

Just like that, Tom’s lights went out. He was gone. Bloody, barely recognisable and in Alice’s eyes pathetic looking. For fun, she hitched up her skirt and pisssed all over him.

“There, that’ll teach you, Daddy.”

Pulling the hem of her dress down she stomped into her Daddy’s barn.

***

It was tough but she did it, she managed to drag her father’s lifeless and bloody body through the back door, out into the dark late evening and into the barn. There she placed down some sheets of plastic her father had left around and dumped him on top. Already covered in blood, that had matted her French braided hair, and smeared itself all over her face and hands. There she stood, in the barn with the pigs going wild to her left. Hungry and acting like savages in their cage at the smell of fresh blood.

Ruuuum rummmmmmm! Rummmm rummmmm!

Alice lifted her father’s chainsaw with a lot more ease than she did when she was thirteen, She sliced down on his thigh just above his knee, with a smile of pleasure a crack of laughter rang out as she watched her dad’s left leg fall away from his body. Into the wee hours of the night, Alice chopped up her father into bite sized chunks and fed his sorry ass to his beloved pigs. The devoured him, every last bone.

***

Five Years Later:

Alice stood at the window  and watched for Billy as he returned home. She listened out for his nosey truck making it’s way up the dirt road. She recentreed her mind to the present day, after she relived her night in the barn five years ago. The night she drummed up a theory about her father’s disappearance, once she fed him to the pigs and cleaned up. Word around town was, he had a terrible “freak accident” and must have fell into the river, as he hit a rock with his wheelchair, while he took an early morning “stroll” by the creek, before she woke up. Well, at least that’s what the police thought after they found his wheel chair overturned by the creek,with no one’s prints on but his.

Alice took a deep breath and looked down at her husband’s shirt. He’d been at it again, a smudged lipstick mark was on his collar. She never cared for lipstick and cosmetics, Alice was not that kind of woman, she never mastered the art of beautifying one’s self. For two months she had restrained herself and not caused a fuss or her suspicions about Billy and his floozy. She felt lucky to have Billy, he stuck by her after her father had his “accident”, and she was all alone. They got married six months after her dad disappeared, while no children had appeared yet she was hopeful, but that would be ruined with another woman in the picture. Of late Billy seemed distant, and uninterested. Secretly her inner voice said to her, if he comes home again smelling of perfume, or with makeup on his shirt, he’d meet a terrible fate in the barn just like her dad did.

Right on cue, Billy pulled up outside the house and jumped out his truck. Alice grit her teeth, narrowed her eyes into a frown, then moulded her face into the loving welcoming wife. She hid his shirt in her closet and made her way downstairs to the front door. It swung open just as she reached the bottom.

“Hey Billy, how was your day?” Alice greeted him in her most friendly, loving wifey voice.

“Ah same old, just work, work, work what’s for dinner.”

Alice narrowed her eyes, as she watched he walked past, he smelt of cheap perfume. She followed him with her gaze as he made his way into the kitchen.

“ Dinner? Oh… something reaaaaaaal special baby, just you wait and see.”

 

Left open for part two! 🙂

updated-telling-tales-weekly-challenege-kim-didi53

 

Thank you for all the votes for the writing prompts, Didi and I are always so appreciative for participation, comments, likes and voting.  I’ve NEVER wrote a horror story in my life, so this was a challenge and experience so thanks for the votes for this gory prompt! We both got so busy this week we forgot to announce the winning writing prompt. LOL. We promise this week we won’t … do write with us using the prompts. We’d love to see your stories.

This Is How Kim & Didi’s Suspenseful Collection Works!

We never discuss beforehand how a story should go or who writes what. It’s a surprise for each other to see how their story ends, or what lands in their inbox to finish off.

This interactive writing challenge is simple and insanely creative. It’s a group effort and we are so glad to have you join in the writing fun!!  I hope you’re ready to challenge us by choosing which prompts we can transform into stellar suspense!  Give us your best shot!  You vote on our weekly prompt, and we provide the entertainment. It’s that simple!  The super easy steps are as follows:

STEP ONE: Every Wednesday we’ll post a voting poll with a few prompts to choose from.
STEP TWO: With the click of a button, you cast your vote on a prompt. (voting will stay open for three days.) Once the winning prompt is announced you can join us and write a story too. Use #kdsuspense to link in.
STEP THREE: READ AND ENJOY!  Every week on the following Tuesday we will post the short story that transformed from the very winning prompt.

Read Previous Stories Here!

The Suspenseful Collection: Volume One, by Kim Knight & Didi Oviatt ~ 4.5 Stars

I quote “holy chilli peppers” LOL I love that response from a reader. Thank you for this review I’m glad you enjoyed it. Thank you for your time and effort. Good ending to my day, just on my way to bed. Thank you.

By Hook Or By Book

35653723Thanks to the authors for providing an eARC in exchange for an honest review.

Release Date: Available Now

135 Pages

Synopsis: A suspenseful novel with a twist. Eight short stories, by two suspense authors, from diverse backgrounds. From opposite sides of the Atlantic these stories have been created. One author started the tale and the other ended it. No discussion, no pre-planning, but yet their stories are seamless. With just creativity and the use of writing prompts, to craft one tale, with two different authors. This anthology of suspenseful, fast paced and engaging tales covers multiple genres. There is a story for everyone!

updated-telling-tales-weekly-challenege-kim-didi53

The Suspenseful Collection is a collaboration between two of our fellow bloggers, Didi Oviatt and Kim Knight. They’ve been created from their readers votes. There are two things that really make this collection of eight short stories stand out. The first is the multiple genres that are…

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Job contract with CONSCIOUS TALK MAGAZINE!

You’re so welcome Jina, welcome to the family.

Jina S. Bazzar

Hello Everyone!

I’ve landed a job with Conscious Talk Magazine(CTM)

Conscious Talk Magazine

Isn’t that great?

I’ve just signed a contract with Conscious Talk Magazine and am now, officially, a magazine writer. I will be writing in the ‘Writer’s life’ column and in the ‘Health and well being’ column.

Thank you, Kim Knight, for this wonderful opportunity.

I have been unemployed for the past  six years, but to be fair, I’ve only just started searching for something, now that my youngest has turned three.

But wait, there are still openings. Want to become a writer for Conscious Talk Magazine? Check the recruitment banner below and get in touch with Kim, our chief editor.

recruitment banner

The first edition will be launched on August 30th. Don’t forget to come and check it out. I’ll be sending out links to remind you all!

Like us on Facebook: @conscioustalkmag
Follow…

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A short teaser for you all

Calling all romance lovers!

Here is a short, very short excerpt for you all.  Is Jeremy her Mr. Darcy?  Book coming soon.  #AN Accidental Love

Startled by a voice.

“Who doesn’t know poetry?”  Of course, it’s Jeremy giving me a quizzical look.

“Shit! Jeremy, you scared me.  I was just thinking of a guy and about poetry.  That’s all.   Do you recite poetry at all Jeremy?”  I’m curious so why not ask.

“Poetry’s for pansies.  Sorry Manz didn’t mean to kill your subject, but no, I don’t do poetry.”  He kisses my temple, wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me in for a great big hug.  God, he does give great hugs.  He is so much larger than I, the warmth he sends out, the protective hug.  Shake out of it, it’s just a hug.  However, I do enjoy his hug a bit longer.  I feel his mouth move close to my ear.

“Let’s go kick some parade ass!”  He says and the moment…

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The Editor’s Life: Oh Boy! What Fun. #amwriting

Editor of Magazine

A new online, diverse magazine launching in August 2017. We aim to be in print too! http://www.conscioustalkmag.com

It’s been a week of the usual crazy days being mama and family life, writer and doing short stories, book reviewer and reading, and now editor! But a very productive week. Over at CTM we’re now a team of eleven strong writing warriors, preparing for launch day! All the columns I want to feature in the magazine are covered, apart from LGBT. Which is sad, but I am on a mission to allocate the column to a talented writer, I’m still recruiting. My other areas are covered, but I’d like a good few writers working on each section. Especially the Men’s Corner and Sport section, so I’m still considering submissions for areas.

We’re on social media now too you can catch us on Facebook, if you want to give us a like @conscioustalkmag and Twitter if you want to Tweet and follow us @conscious_talk. 

My days and evenings have been spent reading all the submissions from writers, I’m actually really touched and surprised at the response rate to the recruitment campaign! Some submissions have been poor of course and to be expected, some have been excellent and some have been mind blowing! So mind blowing it has led me to open up a new column, Conscious Poems. The team are international UK, Brazil, and even as far as Africa and the Middle East. This I’m so pleased about. The team are also super talented.

What have I learned?

Time management is key, even more as an editor than writer I think.

It’s not just about how good someone writes, it’s about the overall attitude of the person when it comes to building a team.

How to write a  snappy team brief with direction, so everyone knows what they are doing.

Sometimes, a writer may not be perfect. However, there might be a lot of passion in their work and you can see the potential.  Don’t be the editor to shun them with that f*ck off rejection letter, help them to develop maybe even give them a chance.

How to give balanced constructive feedback to someone you don’t know well,  and don’t  have a full idea of what they are capable of. (As you’ve never read their work before).

 

I better get back to my inbox! Have a wonderful Thursday!

 

 

 

 

Throw Back Thursday, Who Remembers This One? Wow 1996!#spicegirls #throwbackthursday#girlpower @OfficialMelB @MelanieCmusic

I’m British and proud of it, these ladies were the first major girl group from the UK. I LOVED them back in the early 90s. ( I think as a grown woman in her thirties I kind-a still do 🙂 ). As a teenager just leaving school when this came out, they taught me about “girl power,” way before the likes of Destiny’s Child came along. This is my favourite Spice Girl song. A great mix of  British pop and R’nB from the 90s. The video is pretty cool too.

My favourite band members are Mel C Sporty Spice, she was the real voice, and attitude of the group. I also like M B’s outrageous style. Go Mel C and Mel B! Ladies dust off your 90’s dance moves, and get ready to sing out with the Spice Girls. This  Thursday I’m throwing it back with some old school girl power.

Blood Gore & More, Writing Prompt Theme #kdsuspense

Time to vote! Didi has whipped up a real treat. What one do you like?

Didi Oviatt

Which prompt do you think would produce the goriest writing?

Thank you so much for your vote! We love the participation, and writing these stories has been SO MUCH FUN!! This will be Kim and I’s third story since we took our short break to publish our first Anthology together, where does the time go?!?!

For more information including links to our past stories (to read free) or a purchase link to The Suspenseful Collection Vol 1 click HERE!

For now, THANK YOU again for your vote!!  Stay tuned for the story, or join in the fun… OR BOTH! Here is how our weekly prompt vote and short story plays out:

STEP ONE: Every Wednesday we’ll post a voting poll with a few prompts to choose from.
STEP TWO: With the click of a button, you cast your vote on a prompt. (voting will stay open for three days.)…

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Week #2 Vol #2: Heart Of Gold Short Story #kdsuspense #amwriting

 

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Author One Scene One

Sandy sat on the bench in her usual spot, she gazed out at the ducks slashing around in the mud colored pound across from her. The park was quiet for a Monday morning. She enjoyed the moment of peace with her sunglasses lowered, as the warm spring sunshine beat down on her. This spot had quickly become her special place to think, reflect, and scan the lonely-hearts section of the newspaper. As much as she hated to admit it she longed for a date, some romance, someone to walk into her life and sweep her off her feet. Just like in the chick flick movies she was so fond of. Of course, the “insta-love” in romance novels and movies, she knew was all fictional. Every week as she picked up the free newspaper on her way to the park for her usual walk, she would hug the newspaper close to her heart hoping Mr. Right would be there for her.

She pulled out her red pen from her bag, opened the paper to page forty six, and held her breath. Chewing the inside of her lip with anticipation her brown eyes scanned the page.

“Argh too old, hmm boring, hmm not bad… I guess.”

Sandy looked down and read with interest:

Mr. Lonely: I’m not great with words but I have a kind heart and I’m looking for a special lady. I’m six foot two, brown eyes, I’d love to say I’m handsome but I’ll let you be the judge of that. I’m not perfect I have my flaws, but I know how to treat a lady. If you’d like a date get in contact.

Sandy blew out a breath of air and studied the ducks in the pound some more in deep thought. I’ll let you be the judge of that, what is he? A monster a leg missing what? She was intrigued by him, there was something about the casualness of his advert that appealed to her. At the same time, he came across as humble. She lost count of how many times she had read “I’m the man of your dreams” “Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome awaits you.”

She spotted a couple strolling hand in hand around the pound, laughing and joking to themselves, her heart sank knew she didn’t have that special someone.

***

Stephen opened up the paper and smiled at his advert, there he was alongside all the other self- proclaimed “Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome men.” He wished he could be so bold with a statement like that. He was receding in a bad way at just thirty two years old, he had cracked teeth, a stutter, and walked with a limp courtesy of a childhood accident. Yet, he lived in hope that he would find love, as deep down just as he had said in his advert, his heart was made of gold.

Putting his physical looks aside, he considered himself an intelligent geek. He was the head of IT for a telecoms company. He loved his job gigabytes and megabytes thrilled him. Rather than fast cars and sport.

He closed the paper and placed it neatly on the coffee table “another day another dollar” he said out loud, as he picked up his brief case, keys and headed out the door to work, limping every step of the way.

 

Author two Scene two

***

After pouring milk over her cold fruity breakfast cereal Sandy stood at her counter to eat, alone, as usual. The advert for Mr. Lonely stared at her from beneath a loud sparkling Las Vegas magnet on her fridge. She’d cut it out days before after reading it in the park. Everytime she mindlessly wandered in and out of her kitchen it taunted her.

 

She was yet to answer any kind of an ad, although she looked through them on a regular basis. Considering herself above the whole advert scene was proving to wear thin and age wasn’t exactly on her side. Sandy loved kids and the thought of a quiet family life was something she’d always wanted. Often times she caught herself daydreaming about it while at work. Would they have her thick unmanageable hair, or astigmatism? Would they be as close to each other as she was with Shelly, he own sister?

 

Sandy continued to stare at the ad while the last soggy bite of artificial flavor forced a path down her throat. Her fingers fiddled with her phone. The numbers were punched in, but she hovered over the send button unable to pep talk herself into following through with the call. What would I even say, she thought? And, what if he turns me down at the mere sound of my nasally voice? Just as she was about to press the send, a call came through. Saved by the bell.  

 

“Shelly!” Sandy answered, a little too excited for her sister’s distraction. “It’s about time you called me back.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Shelly’s voice was as dry as ever.

 

It didn’t matter how close they were, Shelly was still a very busy woman. She was seven years younger than Sandy, and twice as successful. She was a section manager of local survey call center. Pulling away from the office in the middle of the day wasn’t always an easy task. That’s not to mention the fact that she didn’t care for speed dating, not one little bit. Sitting at table after table with a handful of middle aged men who never took their eyes off of her cleavage wasn’t exactly her cup of tea. More than once, she’d even ran into her own employees, now that was awkward. Nonetheless she loved Sandy. Shelly understood her sister’s concern about her biological clock, so she complied in all the tedious attempts at helping her find a soul mate – whatever that was supposed to mean anyway.

 

“So you’re coming, right?”

 

 

“I’ll be there. Noon today?”

 

“Yeah.” Sandy hated it when her sister sounded uninterested. That usually meant she’d blow her off. “Noon is in an hour, Shelly. Please don’t make me do this alone.”

 

“I’ll be there.”

 

Click. The line went dead. Sandy let out a long exasperating sigh as she set down the phone. While wrestling her hair into a loose french braid, wild curls escaping in every direction, she opted to wait on calling Mr. Lonely. His unique humility was intriguing, but actually responding to it just wasn’t on her list of priorities for the morning. It could be put off one more day, besides, maybe the speed room would bring someone a little more promising than the last giant disappointment.

 

Sandy stood tall and gilded a hand down her baby blue sundress to iron it’s wrinkles before making her way to the shoe cabinet by her front door.

***

The sun beat down violently, causing Stephen to sweat nearly to the point of profuse. He’d have a full two hour lunch break, so he chose to walk to his favorite bistro rather than drive. After limping the first of four city blocks in the summer’s heat, he’d began to question the decision. Up the street, Stephen noticed a woman. He assumed her to be homeless, as she sat on the sidewalk with a dirty blanket and tattered overnight bag at her feet. She was leaning against a brick building with a restless crying baby in her arms in the mid-day summer’s heat. The sight was much for Stephen to take in, twisting a wrench in his chest.

 

Rather than continuing on past the shops to his left he decided to make a quick pit stop. His conscious would never let him live it down, if he didn’t at least try to find something that may help this poor woman. It was a small touristy gift shop shared with a large open conference room. Several times, he’d passed by this building on his way to lunch. The ‘Speed Room’ sign dangling in one of the windows always tugged at his curiousity, but ultimately he made the consistent choice to steer clear. It was the rain gear displayed in the gift shop that drew him inside.

 

Before he could grasp the handle to walk through, the door busted open. The people shoving their way out were mostly in casual dresses and suits. Some laughed and joked amongst each other, others stared at their toes to shy to mingle. Instinctively Stephen held the door for every last one of the passers through.

 

Two women in particular caught his eye. They were the last to pass him, and both wore the grim expression of death. Obviously the speed date session had been a bust for the two, only confirming that fact that despite his efforts with the advert, he still wasn’t ready to subject himself to so many women likely to judge his limp and stutter.

 

The woman in the blue sundress caught his eye as they passed. Her soft smile formed an adorable little dimple in the center of her cheek. Their eyes locked and it caused a butterfly to escaped Stephen’s chest, flying right in her direction. She was close enough for him to intake the soft scent of citrus and fresh linen that floated from the fabric of her dress.

 

“Hi,” she mumbled in passing, the tint of her pointy ears darkened.

 

“Ma.. Ma.. Ma.. Ma’am.” Stephen stuttered wholly embarrassed.

 

Her smile only widened and the girl who looked like the younger version of herself chuckled at his speech impediment. Stephen didn’t mind, he’d been getting this reaction his entire life. Besides the girl was young, and probably very naive.

He watched the sway of Sandy’s hips as they continued down the sidewalk and across the road toward a small parking lot.

***

“Did you see that guy’s eyes?” Sandy asked her sister, as they weaved past the other cars in the lot.

 

“Who? The one in the blue and gray button up? Now he was hot!” Shelly encouraged.

 

“Nope, I’m definitely not talking about that self-absorbed windbag.”

 

“Please tell me you’re not talking about the stutter?”

 

“The stutter?”

 

Sandy raised a brow at her little sister, who was proving herself to be even more shallow than she’s already confirmed herself to be time and time again.

 

“There was something there. Something in his look,” Sandy continued.

 

“Are you sure?” Shelly leaned against her Volvo and folded her arms across her chest. “I couldn’t get past the receding hairline to notice.”

 

“You know what Shelly?” A friendly smirk grew across Sandy’s face. “I think you’re even more doomed for a lonely single life than I am.”

 

Shelly laughed freely and tossed her long silky black hair over her shoulder.

 

“The only thing I’m doomed for is a flawless sugar daddy, and the perfect boob job.”

 

Sandy couldn’t help but to share the moment, she chuckled and tossed a teasing fist at her little sister’s shoulder. Yet in the back of her mind, the dark friendly eyes of their mystery man of chivalry burned itself a permanent mark. She wrapped her arms around Shelly and thanked her for showing up despite their entire speed date being another irritating disappointment.

 

They parted ways. Sandy following her sister’s Volvo in an old broken down Satern out of the parking lot and onto the main road. Before she could fully speed off, the most touching scene played out before her eyes. It was the man with the look, that look, a look that was so familiar it stuck to every breath she exhaled, yet was different from any she’d ever been given. The man who stuttered at a mere response to her hello, and held the door for her humbly.

 

Sandy watched closely, a tear tugging at the corner of her eye, as the man limped his way to a homeless mother sitting on the sidewalk. Sandy eased her foot from the gas petal and crept past slowly as not to miss anything. The man dug into the canvas gift store shopping bag and pulled out a new yellow outfit for the infant, as well as a large water bottle for the woman which she accepted eagerly. Gulping it down in the summer heat as if she’d never tasted such a treat. Next, the bag produced an umbrella. Sandy held her breath, as well as the welling tears.

 

The man with eyes expanded the large umbrella before propping it up just right with the woman’s belongings to produce shade. Sandy’s heart melted like butter, and the moisture behind her eyes finally spilled over as the man gave the mother a hug. Finally she drove off saying to herself.

 

“God, I hope I can find a man that kind someday.”

 

For now, she’d settle for a simple phone call. She made her way home to finally respond to the ad that was plastered to her fridge. She could only hope that Mr. Lonely would have something to offer her. Something like that man with the kind dark eyes.

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This Is How Kim & Didi’s Suspenseful Collection Works!

We never discuss beforehand how a story should go or who writes what. It’s a surprise for each other to see how their story ends, or what lands in their inbox to finish off.

This interactive writing challenge is simple and insanely creative. It’s a group effort and we are so glad to have you join in the writing fun!!  I hope you’re ready to challenge us by choosing which prompts we can transform into stellar suspense!  Give us your best shot!  You vote on our weekly prompt, and we provide the entertainment. It’s that simple!  The super easy steps are as follows:

STEP ONE: Every Wednesday we’ll post a voting poll with a few prompts to choose from.
STEP TWO: With the click of a button, you cast your vote on a prompt. (voting will stay open for three days.) Once the winning prompt is announced you can join us and write a story too. Use #kdsuspense to link in.
STEP THREE: READ AND ENJOY!  Every week on the following Tuesday we will post the short story that transformed from the very winning prompt.

Read Previous Stories Here!