A to Z: Beginnings K

Thank you to everyone who has stopped by to leave words for me so far this month. I've had a great time trying to work as many of them in as possible.

My short story, The Spell, was been published on Saturday Night Reader last week. This is free to read so I hope you stop by and enjoy this fun little tale.

THEME: Short Stories - at least the beginnings thereof.
YOUR PART: Throw out words from the letter of the day and I'll pick some of them to include in the opening paragraphs of a short story.
WHY: I'm most inspired when there's a little challenge involved. Usually that means an opening line or a theme. This month: your words.

Each evening I'll post the beginnings of a short story using some of the suggested words, As to when I'll end those stories...well, that's what the rest of the year is for.

So join in the comments with K words. names, places, moods, genres, things, whatever you want to throw at me. My creative bucket awaits. If you're here later in the day and I've already posted the story start, feel free to leave words for the next day's letter.

Looking for more great blogs? Check out the massive A to Z blog challenge list.

~*~


Bethany opened her purse for the security officer. "See, I'm not a kleptomaniac."

The heavy set woman in the one size too small blue uniform didn't appear impressed by her show of cooperation. "Ma'am, we have you on camera shoving earrings and bracelets into your purse."

"Well, I don't see anything in there that doesn't belong there, do you?" She tossed the purse large enough to hold a litter of Chihuahuas at the officer.

She grabbed it out of the air before it managed to even reach the intended target of her face. "There's no need to cause a kerfuffle. If you'll just come with me?"

"I still have shopping to do, and karaoke later with my friends. I don't have time to take a walk with you." She made a show of leaning over the woman's ample bosom to read her nametag. "Kenya?" She snickered. "You're momma should have picked a bigger country."

Kenya scowled and hit the button on her walkie talkie. "Yeah, Earl? We got ourselves a big talkin' thief down here. Page Karen, I'm gonna need her to witness a pat down."

A to Z: Beginnings J

Thank you to everyone who has stopped by to leave words for me so far this month. I've had a great time trying to work as many of them in as possible.

Because it's Saturday, it seems appropriate to announce that my short story, The Spell, has been published on Saturday Night Reader. This is free to read so I hope you stop by and enjoy this fun little tale.

THEME: Short Stories - at least the beginnings thereof.
YOUR PART: Throw out words from the letter of the day and I'll pick some of them to include in the opening paragraphs of a short story.
WHY: I'm most inspired when there's a little challenge involved. Usually that means an opening line or a theme. This month: your words.

Each evening I'll post the beginnings of a short story using some of the suggested words, As to when I'll end those stories...well, that's what the rest of the year is for.

So join in the comments with J words. names, places, moods, genres, things, whatever you want to throw at me. My creative bucket awaits. If you're here later in the day and I've already posted the story start, feel free to leave words for the next day's letter.

Looking for more great blogs? Check out the massive A to Z blog challenge list.

~*~

"Hey, what you in for?" asked the man in the ripped up jeans and a stained jade green t-shirt on the bench on the other wall of the cell.

"Well, you see, there was a misunderstanding at the track. They claim I drugged one of the other horses."

"You're a tiny guy, aren't ya? You one of them jockeys?"

"Yes. Yes, I am. Jezreal Jones." He considered offering his hand, but decided at the last second that it wasn't a good idea to shake hands with a dirty stranger in a jail cell."

"Funny name."

Jezreal shrugged. "Blame my parents. Nice folks, but lacking in height and consideration for how much their kid might get teased.

"Did you? Drug the horse I mean."

"No, I merely fed him some jelly."

The man leaned forward, shaking his head slowly. "Why on earth would you do that?"

"Lots of sugar makes them nippy. His jockey isn't the nicest guy." Jezreal winked.

A to Z: Beginnings I

THEME: Short Stories - at least the beginnings thereof.
YOUR PART: Throw out words from the letter of the day and I'll pick some of them to include in the opening paragraphs of a short story.
WHY: I'm most inspired when there's a little challenge involved. Usually that means an opening line or a theme. This month: your words.

Each evening I'll post the beginnings of a short story using some of the suggested words, As to when I'll end those stories...well, that's what the rest of the year is for.

So join in the comments with I words. names, places, moods, genres, things, whatever you want to throw at me. My creative bucket awaits. If you're here later in the day and I've already posted the story start, feel free to leave words for the next day's letter.

Looking for more great blogs? Check out the massive A to Z blog challenge list.


Ever wonder how many writers prefer third person past tense over all the other point of view options? Check out this week's Authors Answer.

~*~

He should have known better than to have slept with her. It was her fault really, all spread out in the skimpy lingerie on the satin sheets, sound asleep breathing softly, lips slightly parted. Had she been dressed in flannels, tucked under some beloved granny's quilt, hair in curlers and one of those hideous face masks on, he would have found her inedible, but no. She was asking for it.

She was lonely. He was just trying to help. The attraction was mutual, he was sure of it. She certainly hadn't complained at the time.

How was he supposed to know that her husband was a powerful priest who had been gone on a week-long retreat? He found out quick when her husband came home and learned what had been going on.

The next thing he knew, he was on an island in the middle of literally nowhere. Just black sand, icy air, and nothing but an inky nebulous haze surrounding the four paces of land he had to walk upon. They were going to pay, both of them. Just as soon as he figured out how to get out of here.

A to Z: Beginnings H

THEME: Short Stories - at least the beginnings thereof.
YOUR PART: Throw out words from the letter of the day and I'll pick some of them to include in the opening paragraphs of a short story.
WHY: I'm most inspired when there's a little challenge involved. Usually that means an opening line or a theme. This month: your words.

Each evening I'll post the beginnings of a short story using some of the suggested words, As to when I'll end those stories...well, that's what the rest of the year is for.

So join in the comments with H words. names, places, moods, genres, things, whatever you want to throw at me. My creative bucket awaits. If you're here later in the day and I've already posted the story start, feel free to leave words for the next day's letter.

Looking for more great blogs? Check out the massive A to Z blog challenge list.

~*~

It was a slow day at the store, nothing to do but staring out the window, wishing she could be outside enjoying the sun like everyone else. Hilary sighed as she wiped the counter for the tenth time that hour. At least she felt like she was doing something other than wasting a perfectly good Saturday afternoon.

Four hours into her eight hour shift, the first customer walked in. The elderly woman smiled at Hilary, though never quite meeting her gaze. She wandered about the eleven short aisles of the quick mart, stopping briefly at the camping supplies and then the candy. When she finally arrived at the counter with an armload of items, Hillary noticed that the old woman wore a bikini under a not-quite-opaque-enough yellow sundress.

Hillary tried not to stare at all the winkles, age spots and stretch marks as she rung up the odd assortment of chocolate bars, bug spray, a lightweight sleeping bag, matches, and the cheapest pop up tent known to mankind.

"What, you think I'm too old to go hobnobbing around in the woods on a beautiful weekend?" she asked with a raised white bushy brow.

"No, of course not." Hilary shoved the purchases into two bags and made change for the woman.

"You know what..." The old woman pursed her thin lips and clucked her tongue against dentures that clacked around in her mouth. "You should join me. Got to bask in the happiness of youth before you end up like this, you know?" She cackled merrily. "Go on, turn that open sign around. Grab yourself a sleeping bag, I'm buying."

A to Z: Beginnings G

THEME: Short Stories - at least the beginnings thereof.
YOUR PART: Throw out words from the letter of the day and I'll pick some of them to include in the opening paragraphs of a short story.
WHY: I'm most inspired when there's a little challenge involved. Usually that means an opening line or a theme. This month: your words.

Each evening I'll post the beginnings of a short story using some of the suggested words, As to when I'll end those stories...well, that's what the rest of the year is for.

So join in the comments with G words. names, places, moods, genres, things, whatever you want to throw at me. My creative bucket awaits. If you're here later in the day and I've already posted the story start, feel free to leave words for the next day's letter.

Looking for more great blogs? Check out the massive A to Z blog challenge list.

~*~

It was generally accepted that gnomes didn't move. They didn't dance around the garden at night or prune the greenery. They didn't sniff the gardenias or plan out intricate plantings with complex geometry. But when the moon was just right, the clouds parted just so, and the pond still enough to reflect the soft glitter of the night, those exact things did happen.

And so it was on one perfect night that a young gnome saddled up a sleepy goose and galloped off to find the girl in the giant glorious garden he'd spotted from the tallest pear tree only ten minutes before. See, gnomes are a somewhat impulsive sort and this one may have given little thought to the fact that should the moon part from its just- rightness, and the clouds thicken, and the wind pick up to ripple the water, his evening plans might go sorely awry.