“Seeking Warmth” is live everywhere! Four years ago, I did a holiday blog hop.  The rules were to write a flash fiction with a winter holiday theme and a bad boy character. There was a black and white photo of two young men embracing in what looked like a gift shop. I wrote about two thousand words and posted it on my blog, but I knew that someday I’d want to expand it. At some point in the past few years, I did start to expand it, so when I got the itch to write a holiday st

The Halloween Derby is here! It includes both writing and artwork and they are being shared now through October 31 as blog posts or downloadable files.  All content is FREE! For the Derby, I co-authored a short story called Inked in Blood with K. Evan Coles. She also wrote a fabulous short story called Moonlight that you definitely need to check out. Universal download link for Inked in Blood: https://books2read.com/u/4EyjOA Universal download link for Moonlight: https://book

Kendra walked slowly along the driveway. Gravel dug into the bottoms of her feet, painting the rock with red with every step she took. The sounds of taunts still rang in her ears. “Freak.” “Dyke.” “Psycho!” “Killer!” She’d heard them all before. Had been hearing the first three most of her life, although they’d gotten progressively nastier in the past six months. And it hurt worse when she’d tried so hard to be normal tonight. She’d dressed up in a pretty teal dress and let h

Zach paused and nodded toward the sign on the chain link fence inside of the research facility. “Ya gotta wonder what made them put that up there. Somebody’s idea of a joke or what?” DO NOT GIVE THE BISON PSYCHOACTIVE SUBSTANCES it read. Gary answered with a non-committal grunt like he always did when Zach made stupid ass comments.  But the moment his back was turned, Gary shuddered and leaned on his rake. It was no joke. He’d been there that night when they’d run the experim

“I have to go.” Travis’ tone was reluctant. Santiago burrowed closer, his grip tightening around Travis’ waist. “Are you sure?” “You know I do. Coming here tonight was risky enough.” Santiago’s father was having a huge party and Travis had nearly chickened out. Skirting the brightly lit areas of the huge estate was difficult under normal circumstances, but the party was being held outdoors by the pool and with caterers, staff, and guests milling around, he’d nearly been caugh

Ebb and Flow The late-afternoon light made the apartment glow. It was peaceful, almost romantic. Luke had noticed it just before he opened the door to let Joshua inside. It was an idle thought, fleeting and soon forgotten. Thoughts of the light and the ambiance had flown from his head the moment he’d seen Joshua. He couldn’t take his eyes off the guy he’d been dating for a few short weeks. They’d tumbled onto the bed, desperate for each other. Luke had never felt more aroused

Clay swirled his brush across the paper, filling in the sky behind the little red house he’d painted.  Below, two stick figures with dark hair held the hands of the smaller figure. The one with bright yellow hair just like Clay’s.  Mittens wound around his ankle as he dipped the brush into the water, then traded the blue paint for black. His tongue poked out from between his teeth as he carefully drew a few more lines and added ears. “There, I put you in the picture too, Mitt

Charles watched, heart in his throat, as Emanuel leapt from the cliff.  His form was perfect, his body knifing through the air as he plummeted to the pool of water below. A cry went up from the people around them, and Charles realized his arms were upraised too, his throat hoarse from screaming, although he could hear nothing over the roar of the waterfall. Before Charles could blink, Emanuel was gone, disappearing beneath the churning water.  Charles’ gut felt full of lead a

Hollywood wasn’t good for much of anything, but Michael had to give it some credit. Over the years it had proven quite useful. History and legend had done much to confuse the world about the power of witches, but Hollywood had done even more. According to the movies and TV, witches were either ugly old hags or pretty young girls who wore a lot of black. No one knew the truth. But they would, soon. He glanced upward. It was mid-afternoon, but the sky was tinged an odd, sickly

On the path in front of him, Kurt stopped in his tracks and Victor’s feet slid on the dew-damp grass as he tried to do the same.  He cursed as he ran into the man in front of him, his hands curling around the thick biceps to get his balance. “Damn,” Kurt whispered, his tone almost reverent. You aren’t kidding, Victor thought. Just being in such close proximity made his head spin. “I didn’t know it would be like that. Your photos are going to be amazing.” Victor chuckled inter

Can So Jose choked on his beer.  Once he stopped sputtering and coughing, he managed to gasp out a few words. “Roland, you’re nuts. On a good day, you look like The Rock.  It would be like putting lipstick on a pig.” Roland glared. “Is that a cop joke?” Jose choked again and let out a loud, barking cough to clear his lungs.  “No! I’m just saying that I don’t care how goddamn great your body is or that you have the fucking prettiest long black hair I’ve ever seen on a man or w

Missed Connection Benjamin Kimura sank to the paving stones beneath him as his knees went out from under him.  The clank and rattle of the train were a distant, dim annoyance as he drank in the words Antonia had written.  It rumbled and hissed to a stop as the words swam in front of his eyes. Why had he never listened before? Since the moment they met in grad school, Ben had loved Antonio with the kind of single-minded intensity he usually reserved for his beloved books.  So

After the struggles I had with the holiday novella, I feel blah and uninspired.  Despite the thousand and one plot bunnies and two nearly completed novels waiting for me, I don’t feel like writing.  I had four days off last week and only wrote a few hundred words.  Now, a few days off to celebrate the holidays is good, but on top of weeks of the blahs? Not good. That’s a slippery slope to no writing at all. And being a writer isn’t about only writing when you feel inspired.