Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Weds Brief

It's that time of the week again.  

Here are the prompts from this week:

"Get on your bike and ride!" or "Try peddling your papers somewhere else" or "the ties that bind" or have your character find out that someone they know is pregnant or "ship of fools" or use a broken condom or use voyeurism or exhibitionism or use a flogger or paddle or have a character wear a pair of gloves and then explain why or have a character with a banana fetish or use: motorcycle, wings, tilt

Ben set the alarm and turned back to Tom.

“Who’s doing this to us, Tom?”  Ben felt Tom’s strong arms wrap around him and pull him close. 

“I don’t know, I can’t think of anyone who’d hate us this much.”

The police had taken their statements, and their hate crime division was looking into this.  Until the bastard was caught, Tom and Ben had little choice but to try to go on with their life as usual.

A few days later, Tom and Ben were at the park, riding their bikes.  The firefighters were having a biking event for charity.  Tom had signed them up way before some homophobe targeted them.

It was a gorgeous sunny day, and there were at least five hundred bikers signed up for the 5k event.  The route took them through the scenic park. Ben and Tom had biked here several times before, so they knew the terrain pretty well.   

“Are you ready to go, Ben?”  Tom was sitting on his bike, one foot on the ground for balance, waiting for the race to start. 

“Yeah.”   Ben finished putting his number sticker on his race vest.   He looked around at the crowd nervously.

“Ben?  You know we can leave right now.   I don’t want you to feel like we have to do this.”  Tom tried to reassure him.

“Then he wins, Tom.  Besides, this is for charity.  Think of all the families of fallen fire fighters this race is helping.  We can’t back out now.”   

Tom couldn’t help feeling proud of his fella.  The first time Ben had been to one of these events and listened to the stories of those who lost loved ones,  it really made him aware of just how dangerous Tom’s job really was and how thankful Ben was each day Tom came home to him. 

All the other riders stood together, ready for the start.    “On your mark, get set.”   The sound of a starter’s pistol fired and all the riders took off.

Tom and Ben knew each other’s strides and they had decided they were going to try to stick together.   The other riders weaved in and around the challenging course.  There were some hills and curves on this route.   Most of the faster riders were way out in front.  Tom and Ben were toward the back of the pack.  At one point, they were all alone.

Tom had noticed a rider getting awfully close to Ben.  He had a bad feeling about this guy.  Now that he thought of it, the guy wasn’t wearing a racing vest.  Like being a helpless eyewitness to a horrible event, he watched the stranger hit Ben with his bike, causing Ben to fall.  Tom caught up to him.   

“Ben, are you okay?”  Tom looked down at his husband, who was slowly getting up off the ground.   Tom saw the attacker turnaround and come back; he held a knife in his hand. “Get on your bike and ride!” Ben managed to get on and they took off like a shot.   Tom looked behind him and the guy was following them.  They tried to lose him on a side trail.  Tom noticed a cop on a bike up ahead; they had officers throughout the racing trails for security.   

They stopped in front of the officer.

“Officer, someone attacked my partner and he’s right behind us.”  Tom looked around and noticed the guy disappeared.  “He was behind us.  I guess he saw you and took off.”

Ben had gotten off his bike and sat on the ground.  “Ben?”  Tom knelt down by him and noticed he’d gone all pale. 

The officer radioed for medical help.   Except for some cuts and bruises, the fall from the bike didn’t do much damage; it was the emotional wounds that were the worst. 

“I’m afraid, Tom.”  Ben was sitting in an exam room in the ER of the local hospital.   After the doctor patched him up, he was putting his clothes back on.  

“Me too. I thought I was going to lose you.”  Tom didn’t get shaken up by much. He saw a lot of horrible things on the job.  Having something happen to someone you loved made a world of difference in how you saw things. Right now they were in danger and Tom was frustrated on what to do about it. 

“Too bad Love isn’t an attack cat.”  They thought about the feline member of their family.  

“What are we going to do?”  Ben asked him as he and Tom left the hospital.

“We’re not going to let this son of a bitch win.” Tom led him to his car and they left for home.  

Tom made sure he locked up his car in the garage and locked all the windows and doors and set the alarm.   They both had to be back at work the next day.  They both tried to sleep, but they couldn’t.   When was this insanity going to end, and how?


my fellow flashers:

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Weds Brief

It's that time of the week again.    Time to flash. 

This week I am using this prompt.  I love horse racing and so do Tom and Ben.

When most people think of men and sports they think of football, baseball, hockey, or basketball.    Tom and Ben liked baseball and football a lot, but their favorite sport was the sport of kings—horse racing.  Not many of their friends, and certainly very few of Tom’s fellow firefighters, knew of their interest in horse racing.   They weren’t ashamed of it, but it just didn’t come up in conversation.  The other guys at the firehouse, and at Ben’s real estate office, were always talking about the more popular sports. 

They went to the track as often as they could.  Ben was the one who loved horse racing; he’d grown up not far from the track.  He and his parents would go to the track several times during the racing season.  He introduced the game to Tom, and converted him into a horse race enthusiast.

“Come on number eight, come on, come on!”  Tom screamed at the top of his lungs as two horses, leading the pack, came thundering down the home stretch.  It was the last race of the day, and he and Ben had won a few races, including the previous race.  If this horse came in, they’d win the late double and collect at least five hundred dollars.

They were standing right near the finish line; both leaned over the rail, screaming.

“Come on, Love Train!” Ben shouted.

“Love Train?”

“The horse’s name.”  Ben was the one who helped pick the horses and placed the bets.  So Tom didn’t pay as much attention to the names as to the number the horse wore.

“Love Train, win for us, Daddy needs a new pair of shoes,”  Tom yelled.

“You did NOT just say that,”  Ben said, and they both laughed.  The thunder of the horses grew louder. Two of the front runners, eight and two, were neck and neck.  Two was on the inside and eight was on the outside, struggling to keep up.

Some taps from the whip and number eight, aka Love Train, kicked it into high gear and ran the race of his life.  At the finish it was too close to call, a photo finish.

“Please hold all tickets, ladies and gentlemen, as the stewards look over the photos.”

The tote board in the center of the track showed eight and two’s numbers, and the word photo blinked next to them.  The crowd was noisy, and everyone impatiently waited for the final results to be posted.
Tom and Ben hung close together, holding their breaths.  “Yes!” Ben screamed.

“Yay, we won!”  Tom yelled as they saw the order of finish and the word final.  Eight then two followed by seven—win, place, and show.  They hugged and went to the ticket window to get their winnings, all five hundred and forty two dollars and twelve cents worth.

“Now this has been a good day,”  Tom said as he and Ben made their way out to the parking lot. 

 “Aren’t you glad I introduced you to horse racing?”  Ben asked him.

“Yeah, honey, I am.  I had a lot of fun.”

“Yeah, and we won some moolah.”

“More importantly, I got to have fun with my fella,”  Tom said.

Ben’s heart swelled up; he had plans for them when they got home.

“Oh my gawd!”  Tom stopped in his tracks when he saw the car.  All four tires on Ben’s car were flat and the words ‘Fags Die’  were spray painted on the hood.

“Tom, oh my car!” Ben had worked very hard to buy that Audi.  True, it was a used car he’d gotten from Car Max, but it still cost a pretty penny.  He loved that car.

Tom didn’t waste any time calling 911 and taking photos of the damage.

The police called in the anti-bias division. The detectives took their statements and had the car towed in for a good going over.

Tom called his friend Joe, from the firehouse, to give them a ride home.  

“Who would do this, Tom?” Ben was on the verge of tears. 

“I don’t know, Ben.”  He held Ben close. They filled Joe in on what happened when he picked them up.

“I’m scared, Tom,” Ben said as he and Tom sat in their living room. 

“I’m glad we got that alarms system last month. We’ll have to be careful until this scumbag is caught.”

From an old beat up Ford Taurus parked across the street from Tom and Ben’s home, a man smiled wickedly.  On the passenger seat next to him was a pamphlet from the Westboro Baptist Church.

 My fellow flashers

Saturday, August 17, 2013

J.A. Garland is a guest on my blog

I'd like to welcome J.A. Garland to my blog today.  Let's find out more about her and her book "Dysus Dreamer. she is holding a contest see below to enter"

1-How long have you been writing?
I’ve been writing since I was a kid. I was the geek girl who attended every Young Writers Conference, lol. In all that time, my genre hasn’t fluctuated much, I’m still a devout fantasy writer.
 2- What is your favorite genre to write? 
Funny you should ask, the last few books have been Urban Fantasy, but my latest work in progress is Urban Fantasy with romance. A little spice is good, right?!
 3-What are you working on now?
I’m working on an Urban Fantasy/romance called ‘Moon Marked.’ It is about a paranormal bounty hunter. She’s pretty kick-ass.
4-When you begin a story do you start with character or plot?
I might be a dedicated Type A who sketches out every minute detail, but I always start with the main characters. Without them, there wouldn’t be any plot, right?!
 5-Tell us about your latest/upcoming release. What inspired it? 
My latest release is titled, “Dysus Dreamer.” It is book two in the Halfling Chronicles, but it a solid stand-alone read.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blurb: "A powerful half-demon is kidnapped, bloodthirsty werewolves are on the rise, and a planet is dying. A demon warrior and dark elf joining forces are the least of their worries."
Demon warrior, Slade Aesus, is determined to destroy the werewolves controlling his cousin. But a beautiful elf, consumed by her own vengeance, finds the wolves first. Botching her assassination attempt, Annwyn has the most powerful Packs in the world biting at her heels. Both fiercely independent, can the two join forces long enough to fulfill their missions and stay alive?

A solid assassination operation takes one part opportunity, two parts discipline, and three parts disposition. Having two out of three this chilly Seattle evening, Slade considered himself in abundance of good fortune.
Parked in front of a solitary office building, in the zone clearly marked “No Parking,” Slade cleared his mind of distractions consisting of the little here and there that could creep in and throw him off, just a hair, but enough to jeopardize his mission. Satisfied, he slid out of the rental car and re-tucked a stylish black golf shirt monogrammed with “Constantine Vineyards” into a pair of crisp, steel gray slacks. In this particular scenario, image was crucial.
Tonight, the element discipline presented itself by his waiting for the precise moment to strike. He made a living analyzing people and their habits, so he knew his targets relaxed around the holidays and were less likely to see the danger lurking behind his smiling fa├žade. The current festivity du jour was Christmas, and coupled with his gift, destined Slade a popular man. I'm counting on it.
He moved around to the trunk, where he heaved free a slatted, wooden case. It smelled of musky oak. The peaceful scent hinted at candlelit dinners shared with a long time lover. His jaw clenched. Not in my past and not in my future.
Slade lugged his precious cargo toward the sprawling metal office building. Immense, the structure stabbed farther into the heavens than any other in the area, yet fell short. Just like my target. Outwardly, Joe Larsen appeared a dedicated family man, a real pillar of the community whose flourishing internet and telecommunications business, ProCom, employed hundreds. In reality, the werewolf belonged to the Dirty Dozen, a group of the twelve most ruthless wolf Packs roaming the earth.
How ironic. I was once your target. A year ago, the Dozen kidnapped his cousin Amber, a half-demon, half-human. Able to keep a shifter from shifting, Amber's ability proved irresistible, since more times than not, the Dozen's meetings devolved into an unproductive, fur-flying brawl. We saved Amber, but left behind some unfinished business. Starting with Larsen, the wolves would learn a lesson...a demon’s memory rivals the most scorned woman, and paybacks were indeed a bitch.

Buy Links:

Author Bio: 
Writing urban fantasy under the pen-name J.A. Garland, Jennifer is a professional firefighter in the state of California. Jennifer is married and has two children, who are as different as night and day. A graduate of Cogswell Polytechnical with a degree in Fire Administration, Jennifer always knew she wanted to be an author. (Except for a brief two month period after watching the movie "Top Gun," when she wanted to be a fighter pilot).  
Jennifer admits she is an addicted trail runner, mostly because she is a devout consumer of all things cheese puff. If she misses you at the next mud run, please visit her website to see what's new in the world "where fantasy becomes reality."

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Weds Brief

Well they are BACK,    Ben and Tom have returned.    Check out what adventures they have in store this week.    There is a little twist at the end.

Weds Brief  
This week's prompt is: "Nothing else matters" or have a scene set in an art gallery or use: fish, knife, ice or use a bucket in an interesting way or have one of your characters explain what FIFO means or have someone watch an arrest or be arrest or use: sun, mimosa, swing or "One is the loneliest number"

Lancaster wasn’t a metropolitan area like Philadelphia or New York, but it had amenities all its own. They had parks, festivals, and museums.

Yes, Lancaster had a lot to offer, a cross between city and country.  Tom and Ben couldn’t think of any place they’d rather live than here.

“Tom, did you see this one?”  Ben and Tom decided to spend their Sunday afternoon at the Museum of Art and History, nicknamed MOAH.  

“Wow, that’s lovely.” Tom took a closer look at the painting Ben stood in front of.  “It kind of looks like it could have been done in our backyard. “ Their home backed onto a nature preserve, which was one of the reasons they’d bought the house.  

“Yeah, you’re right.  The artist even captured the stream bed that meanders through.”

The two men wandered through each of the exhibit rooms. The museum was having a special exhibit about love.  So all the artwork was related to love in some way.  The painting they’d been admiring reflected love of nature.  There were photos and paintings and sculptures depicting a parent’s love for his children, an elderly couple being cared for by their grown children, and a painting of a couple’s wedding in Paris.

Ben was so engrossed with a statue sitting in the middle of the room he didn’t notice Tom had made an abrupt stop in front of him. He ran right into his back.

“Tom, what did you stop for?”

“Look at that, Ben.”

There was a sculpture entitled “Nothing Else Matters.”  Two men, one holding the other as he lay on the ground.  They wore military uniforms, and it appeared one was wounded.  Of course, like most art, it was left up to the interpretation of the viewer. 

“They’re lovers,”  Ben whispered. 

“How can you tell that?”  Tom took a closer look at the piece.  “I mean, I can see they’re comrades in arms, even close friends, but lovers?”  Tom turned to Ben, who was still mesmerized by the art.   

“I think the wounded one might be dying.”  Ben reached out and took Tom’s hand.  It made him think of images he had of Tom and his dangerous job.

“It’s okay, Ben.”  Tom squeezed his hand. Tom seemed to know where his mind had gone. 

“I know it doesn’t say what it is, but I get the impression they’re a couple, closeted ,and one got wounded by enemy fire and he’sdying.”  Ben’s voice got very quiet at the end.  He rested his head on Tom’s shoulder. There were other people milling about the gallery, looking at the exhibits.  Tom and he were so caught up with the art piece that they didn’t realize someone was watching them.  

“How about we get a bite to eat?  There’s a restaurant a few blocks over I’d like to try,”  Tom suggested.   

* * * *

A shadow followed the two men as they made their way to the exit.  The figure watched them leave and stood by the front entrance.   Tom and Ben went to their car and drove off.   

“Fags, you’re all ruining this country.  Well, I’m going to take care of at least two of them.”


My fellow Weds Briefers:
Cia Nordwell