View Full Version : Flash Fiction Challenge

April 14th, 2010, 11:49 PM
1000 words was tough. This story started as 2600 plus. Felt awful to chop it down (lost all the good sex bits) but anxious to know what you think.

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This is confusing, so disallow it */ ul[type="i"], ul[type="I"], ul[type="1"], ul[type="a"], ul[type="A"] { list-style-type: disc; } ol[type="disc"], ol[type="circle"], ol[type="square"] { list-style-type: decimal; } /* end default css */ /* custom css */ /* end custom css */ /* ui edited css */ body { font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: normal; background-color: #ffffff; } /* end ui edited css */ /* editor CSS */ .editor a:visited {color: #551A8B} .editor table.zeroBorder {border: 1px dotted gray} .editor table.zeroBorder td {border: 1px dotted gray} .editor table.zeroBorder th {border: 1px dotted gray} .editor div.google_header, .editor div.google_footer { border: 2px #DDDDDD dashed; position: static; width: 100%; min-height: 2em; } .editor .misspell {background-color: yellow} .editor .writely-comment { font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4; padding: 1px; border: 1px dashed #C0C0C0 } /* end editor CSS */ </style><script> function DoPageLoad() { window.TimeoutId = setTimeout(''); parent.TIME_doc_load_full = new Date().getTime(); } </script><style></style>A Healing Encounter

She parked her car and walked into the rehab clinic where she worked as a therapist. She knew she had a full caseload at the outpatient center, but she didn’t mind. Busy was good... no time to dwell on the loneliness that seemed to shadow her since she'd moved to this town months ago. She saw an unfamiliar name on the client list, but the routine of her morning pushed it out her mind until hours later when the secretary chirped, "Your 11:00 is here."
As he walked into the clinic, it took an effort to keep her jaw from dropping. It was the man she'd seen at the laundromat the last two times she'd gone. Of course she'd noticed him... who wouldn't? He was damned attractive, after all. But romance in the Suds 'n Spin? She chuckled at that, then strode to meet him while extending her hand. When he saw her, his eyebrows raised a little in surprise and... pleasure? She knew he recognized her, and his answering smile was intimate.
She registered the rough texture of his hand as he clasped hers—worker’s hands, she thought— and she motioned him toward a raised therapy mat where he sat. "We’ll start with you mirroring a few movements that I'll do. If anything feels uncomfortable, just tell me."
He nodded and began moving his arm as instructed. As he moved, she watched his face for any signs of discomfort. He was not movie-star handsome, but she found a strength in the set of his jaw that appealed to her . Attractive, she thought again, and when she met his eyes, he was studying her, as well.
Just then, he rotated his shoulder and she saw a tightening in his face.
"There...that hurts a bit."
"Okay, let me see," she answered. “Just relax your arm and let me move it.”
She met his eyes as she gently moved the joint and felt him tense immediately. She stopped.

"Did I hurt you?" she asked, voice full of concern.

He didn’t answer her for long seconds. "Hurt?" he finally repeated in a husky tone. "No...you didn’t hurt me."
"It’s just that I felt you tense," she continued softly, suddenly aware of their closeness. Again he was silent, but something in his gaze caused a flush creep into her cheeks.
"Okay, we’ll continue," she murmured, and moved her hand slowly back across his side. "Let’s have you lie back, and we’ll try a little ultrasound for the pain," she said in what she hoped was a professional voice. "Um...you’ll have to take off your tee-shirt."
He was looking at her again, and she thought she saw amusement in his hazel eyes.
"You’re in charge," he said softly, obeying her.
He was still looking at her, so she busied herself with readying the equipment to avoid openly staring at the broad expanse of his chest.
"I have to put this gel on your shoulder for the ultrasound," she explained. "You won’t feel anything but a sense of warmth once I start."
He smiled at her and said quietly, "I have a feeling I’ll feel more than just warmth."
Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt guilty and excited all at once. She needed to touch this man yet knew she was moving beyond the bounds of professionalism in that desire. A look at his face told her she wasn’t alone.
"I’m ready for you," he said, then closed his eyes again.
But am I? she thought.
As she applied the gel to his skin, she reveled in the ripple of muscle beneath her palms. His lips parted slightly and she saw his hands close into fists at his sides, as if trying to prevent himself from using them. To touch me? she wondered, and she felt a shiver of anticipation.
"Try and relax," she whispered.
"Fat chance of that," he replied with a low chuckle. "Don’t stop... I’m feeling better already."
She smiled in spite of her pounding pulse and allowed her fingers to continue their exploration. When she moved lower on his side, his eyes darkened with need and his breathing quickened. She glanced down his body and saw with a start just how much he’d been affected by their contact. He was growing stiff beneath his shorts, and she felt a wanton urge to free him of his clothing and ease his ache. She was unaware she had stopped moving until he hooked his fingers tenderly under her chin and turned her face to his.
"I think we'd better continue this assessment at a later date, unless you're fond of public displays of affection," he teased, but she heard the strain in his voice.
She exhaled in a rush, and in that moment knew she had to feel more of him...knew her body wanted all of him. She casually dropped a towel in his lap to hide his arousal and used another to wipe the gel from his skin.
She was trembling but forced herself to inhale slowly. Who was this woman pretending to be her? Was she orchestrating a seduction? She’d never been this forward with a man in her life. A stranger, no less! Yet through her disbelief, she could feel the throbbing which had started deep within her feminine core. She felt a primal urge to give herself to this man, and though she was shocked at her feelings, she did not deny them. Her body longed for his touch, and she could do no other than seek it.
"You know, I think this shoulder may need a few more sessions before it heals,” she said, as she offered him a tentative smile.
He raised a hand to stroke her cheek tenderly. "Lucky for me I know a good therapist.”

Kim Smith
April 15th, 2010, 06:42 AM
*smile* worked for me !

April 15th, 2010, 04:58 PM
Querida! Get thee to www.duotrope.com (http://www.duotrope.com), do a search on erotica flash fiction, and submit to one of the 20 markets that came up when I just searched there!:thewave:

Then let us all know who accepted you!


April 15th, 2010, 05:14 PM

In an otherwise pretty lousy day, reading this message was my high spot! A VERY high spot, I might add! I am still playing "professional therapist" by day (the inspiration for my main character, incidentally, though none of my clients are ever jaw-droppingly handsome...ha), but I will do that search this evening. I suppose it can't hurt, and you are a good encouragement to me! Thank you so much again!! :)

April 16th, 2010, 07:16 PM
Querida, I just call 'em like I see 'em. Good luck!

And everyone, check out this flash fic market: http://www.everydayfiction.com/submit-story/

Not much money, granted, but a publishing clip. I've been reading an excellent book on writing that suggests we become 'anthology sluts'. That's what Cindy and I have been doing lately; why not go thou and do likewise?


April 16th, 2010, 08:35 PM
Found a few sites on duotrope where I submitted, plus I submitted on the everydayfiction link, too. (Was careful to read the fine print on the "how to submit" info, too.) Two to three months to hear? Wow, will those be long days of waiting! ;)

Thank you again for the links and encouragement. I need to get some resource material on how to submit... it's awfully daunting. But I made a good start, I think, and for that I am grateful.

April 17th, 2010, 01:11 AM
I have 1022 words. I'm just over. I am however, trying to cut it down. It's just not that easy. LOL

April 17th, 2010, 01:31 AM
I'm hoping the title doesn't count as the thousand words otherwise I'll be two words over.

April 17th, 2010, 03:10 AM
Okay here goes - 1000 word flash fiction challenge


Prudence Swanson had never been wild a day in her life, but now was her time. She elevated her arms, and tossed the ice cold jug of water over her head, soaking the white tee shirt she wore. Automatically, her nipples beaded against the thin cotton, and she instinctively crossed her arms over her chest, preferring everyone around didn’t notice the slight reaction. She stepped down off the mahogany bar along with the other contestants. Then heard a battering drum roll, followed by a deep voice of Justin McAllister, declaring her the winner of the best wet tee shirt contest.
Her baby blues widened in surprise since she’d never won anything before. The gold trophy she was handed; sparkled in the rigid light, twinkling like stars in the night’s sky. She thanked the boisterous crowd and was provided with a free, very sweet alcoholic concoction that made the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
“Great job Prue.” Jacob McAllister whispered near her ear, his Scottish brogue washing over her like a sensual caress. He sat down on the red and white check padded stool beside her, adding, “But I didn’t know you were into the whole wet tee shirt contest.”
She shrugged, knowing he was right. She’d always been a goody two shoes. Never doing anything her parents didn’t approve of. She swallowed the last dregs of her drink, and tilted her head to the side, gazing at his gorgeous features. He was an extraordinary specimen of man, she thought, and definitely worthy GQ model material if they wanted him. His emerald, almond-shaped eyes bore into hers, looking at her like she was his girl, even though she wasn’t – too bad, so sad. “It’s the new me and certainly my first new year’s resolution to be more outgoing.”
“Sounds good. Guess Jacob and I are going to have to give you some more resolutions then.” Jacob’s twin, Justin said with a devilish wink.
Oh boy. Prue didn’t particularly enjoy the sound of his raspy tone, or the devilish wink he tossed her way. They were true signs of trouble, likely to land her in hot water if she wasn’t careful. “What did you have in mind?”
“Let me think.” Jacob rubbed his jaw-line, teasing the five o’clock shadow he sported. Looking like a professor in heavy thought, ready to give his students a pop quiz they weren’t exactly ready for. “How about the three of us go home and we can give you a McAllister sandwich?”
She looked to Justin, making absolute certain she’d heard his twin right. “Yep, you get to be piggy in the middle.”
She glared at him, though she wasn’t insulted. She knew he wasn’t calling her names, but just calling Jacob’s comment like he saw it, as if it was a game. “Are you serious?”
She glanced from Justin to Jacob, and they both nodded. Once she thought about it, she made her decision. She’d be their girl once and for all. Without hesitation, she said huskily, “Let’s go.”
She stood, grabbing her zebra stripped designer bag off the back of the stool. She slipped it quickly on her shoulder, and followed the two very different men, although they were identical twins. The only way she could tell them apart was a two inch scar above Jacob’s right brow. Justin was a physical therapist, very carefree and loved to help people whereas Jacob was a lawyer, and akin to a pit bull with a bone, always fighting until the end. Although he too, liked to help people, believing pro-bono work was the best satisfaction.
All but running to Justin’s red SUV, she hopped in. Her curvy body sculpted perfectly into the leather seat and she heaved a blissful sigh, finally happy that something was going to happen between the three of them. Closing the door, Justin rushed around to the driver’s seat and opened it. He jumped into the vehicle, and turned the engine over. It purred like a sated cat after having eaten a nice salmon.

Driving through the city streets, they remained silent, until the car stopped and Jacob said, “We’re here,” after opening his door.

She stepped out of the nice, shiny car, and glimpsed from one to the other, knowing it was now or never. She could do this.

She tilted her head and fell into Jacob’s lips, kissing him with such fervency that he lifted her, wrapping her slender legs around his waist. His hands skated under the short denim skirt she donned, resting on her ass. Before they could continue, Justin spoke, his deep accent holding a touch of amusement. “We can’t do this here. We have to get inside and upstairs to a bed.”
Realising they were out in the open, exposed to a neighbour’s watchful eyes, Jacob walked up the narrow cobblestone path with her still in his arms. Justin unlocked the front door with his key and the three of them crossed the threshold.
“This is how I’ve always seen us when we met twenty years ago in the first year of school.” Prue admitted, feeling brave for once in her life. When the two men arched their brows, she blushed, realising what she’d said. Of course, she couldn’t have felt this way when she was all of six years old. “Well, okay, not that long ago but at least since my sweet sixteen when Justin first kissed me.”
“You want to know something, Prue?” Justin asked. A frown marred her beautiful face. Did she want to know? What could they possibly have to tell her? Was it something bad? Did they not want her anymore? A thousand thoughts floated through her mind, none of them very appealing to her ego. ”We felt it to. You’ve always been our girl.”
“Now this is what I call wild and worth it.” She raced for the bedroom, peeling off her skimpy clothes. They sailed through the air, landing right on both their stunned faces. <O:p</O:p

April 17th, 2010, 08:44 AM
Good job! Hard to fit a story into 1K words, isn't it? But good practice at writing to a certain word count, which you'll have to do at times. You should go over it, check for typos and grammar/punctuation errors, then submit it somewhere.

Speaking of grammar and all the techie stuff: I once had a student who told me she didn't bother about that; that was what editors were for! Not so; too many errors will cause even the best story to be rejected. We owe it to ourselves and our publishers to submit the best we can do. So invest in a basic grammar/punctuation text, and don't forget spell check--and don't trust it completely either!

Here's an interesting article for all of us:


April 17th, 2010, 03:32 PM
Thanks Gail. It was a 1000 words exactly.

April 17th, 2010, 06:41 PM
Hey, guys!

Here's a market with a little more stretch room than 1K; they're taking up to 2K:

So submit something already!


April 17th, 2010, 11:01 PM
I'll definitely go and submit something. Thanks for letting me know.

April 25th, 2010, 12:17 AM
I am sorry that it took so long to get this posted. This may not be the correct way to do this but I gave it a shot.

How in the world had she gotten separated from her friends? Emelia craned her neck to find the top of Sonja and Jarvis’s heads. She jumped up to try and see over the crowd. They were having some kind of parade in the middle of Bourbon Street. It was so crowded she couldn’t even tell how far into Bourbon she was. There they were, thank God, she weaved in and out of people to catch up with them. The two heads made a left turn, she wondered where they were going. Emelia didn’t have a clue but she was almost to them. She took a left too and turned onto a side street. She walked halfway down the street before she realized she was alone. She was so drunk, way too many hurricanes and then a few too many hand grenades. Obviously, she had not seen them go down this alley or they would be here now. A noise to the right caught her attention making the hair raise on her neck.

From behind the garbage cans came three figures with hoodies pulled close around their faces. In their hands were what looked like ball bats. The expression on their faces said they meant business. She tried to think through the liquor induced stupor, but it just wasn’t working. What to do? Run, she thought but didn’t make it far before the first assailant had her pinned face first on the rancid, damp street. One of the hooded figures snatched her purse so hard the strap broke free from her arm. Her shoulder burned like someone had stuck a hot poker in her joint. He must have dislocated her shoulder. She felt his hot breath as he panted in her ear and she tried to fight but he had her pinned firmly to the asphalt. This was it she thought, she was going to die right here on this nasty street in New Orleans. The monster behind her must have grown tired of her fighting, because next thing she knew it was lights out.

Gabriel De Laroux had admired the beautiful brown haired woman from a safe distance. He could see that she was not like the other women in the bar. He could feel the aura she put off around her. He wanted to put his hands in her long, brown, wavy hair. Her scent was intoxicating and he wanted to breath her all in. . It had been a decade since a woman had affected him the way this stranger did. Gabe tried to remain inconspicuous while he stared at her but their gazes met, but then the contact was interrupted by a group of people. Finally they moved, but she was gone. He moved from his seat and walked out the door of the bar to find her. Damn, he thought to himself and sniffed the air for a hint of her direction. He followed the faint scent in the air and found himself half way down Bourbon Street. Motion and sound from a side street caught his attention. There she was, the female from the bar and she was being robbed by three boys.

“Hey!” Gabe shouted, his canines extended and he let out a fierce growl, stalking his prey like a jungle cat. He moved in on the three slowly and then attacked. He had the sitch under control in minutes. These nit wits were no match for his strength and speed. Gabe was a vampire and had been for almost two hundred years. He rolled the young woman to her back. She was unconscious and had a really nasty head gash, probably had a skull fracture. Pulling a small knife from his pocket, Gabe made a thin gash across the artery in his wrist and pressed it to her mouth.
Emelia felt something warm running down her throat and began to choke on the thick substance. She began to fight again.

“Hey baby, its okay you are safe now. Just relax you are not in danger anymore.” said her rescuer.

Emelia was half conscious half out of it but her internal instincts told her she was safe. She relaxed her body and allowed the blackness to consume her.

Emelia’s head was pounding, she had the worst hangover she had ever had in all her days of drinking. Boom, boom, boom it was as if she had a percussion section in her head. She slowly cracked open her eyes which only made it worse. As her vision cleared, Emelia scanned the room and tried to jump from the bed only to fall backwards from the pain. Where in the hell was she, she wondered. Breathing in deeply, she closed her eyes the pain easing slightly with her eyes closed. She heard the faint shuffle of feet on the floor and attempted to open her eyes again.

“I brought you some Tylenol and here is some water. I wasn’t able to introduce myself to you last night. My name is Gabriel De Laroux, I rescued you last night in the alley right off Bourbon. You took quite a beating.”

“Well that explains the killer headache, so where am I and long have I been here?”

“My house and a couple days.” Gabe said.

“A couple days, my friends must be worried sick.”

“No I explained the situation.”

“Umm yeah, so I am suppose to believe that you convinced my two best friends to allow me to stay here with you and not go to the hospital. Is this like some twisted joke or something? I’m leaving now.” Emelia said.

Now that her eyes had adjusted to her light, Emelia was able to see the man in a different light. He was absolutely gorgeous, the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life. His milk chocolate skin had a strange luminescent glow to it. His hair was braided back in perfect corn row braids. His body was as if it had been chiseled from marble.