Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Silver Flash: Double Feature

Double Feature. Now that takes me back. I don't even know if movie theaters offer those any more, much less their far older distant cousins, the Triple Feature! I used to go to those on the weekends, at the drive-in. During the summer, when it didn't get dark 'til late, seeing a triple feature could mean not coming home til 2 or 3 in the morning. Those were fun times!   But I digress.

It's Wednesday, therefore it's Hump Day as well as Flash Fiction Day! That day where the authors of Silver Publishing bring you short pieces of fiction to showcase their talent! Today's prompts were given to us by our lovely leader, Ryssa Edwards:

#1:   "Which one do you like better?"
#2: Use the following elements in your story: star, speaker, candle

I couldn't choose which series I wanted to write to which prompt so I compromised and chose one of each. Therefore I'm giving you a double dose of my Flash Fiction this week - one from Lust Never Sleeps, and one from Scent of a Wolf!  Enjoy!  And don't forget to check out my compadres, whose links you will find at the end of this blog!

Scent of a Wolf 2

The buffet was everything Cameron could have wished for—and more. He’d never seen so many types of cheeseburgers in one place. And so many kinds of cheeses and toppings. Bacon , red onion, blue cheese, mushrooms, jalapenos and cheddar.   And buns galore—sesame seed, poppy seed, whole wheat, sourdough, rye and more. The only thing better would be having the meat raw, but he knew better than to ask for such a thing. He blessed whatever god was responsible for such a largesse, sniffing the air appreciatively as he chose a table not too far from the buffet.

And all for the low low price of $4.95. Couldn’t beat that with a stick.

Cameron took two plates, completely bypassing the salad portion of the bar, heading straight for the good stuff. Although there were times when he appreciated the bounty of the green foods which Mother Nature provided in abundance, this was not one of them. What he craved now was meat—the rarer the better. Beautiful , red juicy meat. He felt himself salivate at the thought as he joined the line at the buffet. When asked how he preferred it cooked, he replied, “Let it moo and let it bleed.” The marvelous thing was that they understood his preference completely, and even catered to it. Even if current health guidelines did say undercooked meat was not good for you.

Maybe not for the average man on the street, but for Cameron the werewolf, it suited his metabolism just fine. And they didn’t bat an eye when he asked for ten burgers to start with. They’d seen him there before; Cameron’s appetite was legendary at Marco Polo’s.

Satisfied with what he considered to just be the tip of the iceberg, he returned to his seat, eyeing his copious bounty, his hunger blindsiding him to the attention which was being focused upon him by two  complete strangers.

“Disgusting!” The first speaker stared with fascinated horror as Cameron laid waste to the cheeseburgers before him, first one plate and then the other.  He had abnormally large eyes which rapidly blinked in the artificial light of the restaurant. “He must be the one. Look at him eat! He gives himself away with every bite. What an animal he truly is.”

His companion shrugged razor-sharp shoulders. “Ours not to question why, Rutledge. We’re not the star of the show here, we’re only the second bananas. Bit players as it were.”

Rutledge shook his head, his claw-like hands reaching out to grab a bit of food off the other’s plate. “Chambers, shut up and quit talking,” he said, before swallowing the morsel whole.

Cameron returned to the buffet three more times, before finally deciding that he was full. With any luck, this meal would last him a couple of days, although he doubted it. One of the curses of being a lycanthrope—and there were a few of those, as he ruefully admitted to himself—was the tendency toward a high metabolism. Crudely put, nothing stayed with him.

On the other hand, he was bound to keep his girlish figure for years to come.

A glass of beer was suddenly thumped down on the table before him. Surprised, he looked up to find a girl of slightly below average height, long brown hair with blue and gold highlights, swept back into a messy ponytail. She punched at her nose, pushing her wire-rimmed spectacles back into place.

Cameron’s grin broadened at the sight of her. “Sarah, you’re a vision of loveliness today,” he complimented her.

“Don’t try to kid me, Cameron.” The waitress wiped her slightly damp hands on her apron. “I just thought you might need something to wash down all that beef.”

He laughed, patting his contented belly, which looked as flat as when he’d walked in. “Thanks, I appreciate that. What would I do without you?”

“Eat less often?” Her smile belied her words. She’d become friends with Cameron when he’d begun to frequent Marco Polo’s, discovering common areas of interest , such as anime, sushi, and modern art.  Sometimes she tore up his ticket when money was particularly tight. Or she snuck him extra food with his order. “Besides, I know some of the other girls help you too, I’m not the only one.”

“But they can’t hold a candle to you,” he said sincerely. Although he was not interested in her in a sexual way, being uninterested in women at all, he considered her a friend. The other waitresses seemed to think he’d something to offer them; Sarah was under no such illusion.

“There’s a Warhol exhibit at the art center Friday, want to go?” she asked.

“Warhol? You know it. What time?”

“7. Meet me here at 6 and we can have dinner first. On me,” she hastily added, as he squirmed.

“You’re a princess.” Cameron smiled. “I’d love to go. I gotta go now, though. Books to hit. Tests to study for.” He rose , but not without draining the beer.

“You kill me.” She shook her head and laughed. “See you Friday,” she called over her shoulder, heading toward the kitchen.

Friday. Only four days away. At least he knew he’d eat again.

He strolled leisurely toward the exit, pausing to pick up his complimentary toothpick, ambling outside, his mind on the prospect of good art and good food.

“Jareth!” Shaw was concerned. He’d never seen Jareth Hammond act in this manner before. He couldn’t decide if he was lovestruck, moonstruck, or had gone insane. He kept sniffing at the air, mumbling, “The scent. The scent."

He attempted to enter the restaurant, but Shaw held him back. Just in time, as the door opened, and a redhead exited the building, walking away from them. Immediately, Jareth tried to follow. Shaw wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep him in check without help.

When the two sinister figures emerged, following the redhead, Shaw swore.  “Jareth, snap out of it, please. I think he’s in danger.”

And now my second offering, the next chapter of Lust Never Sleeps, where we last left Sawyer and Darryl being imperiled by a parasol!

Lust Never Sleeps #9: Take My Wife - Please

Darryl froze, convinced that his life was in danger. He hardly dared to breathe. How ironic—to survive a perilous flight in a flying automobile only to be killed when he reached the ground. He stared at the female in question. She was undoubtedly beautiful in the dazzlingly beautiful way of a runway model, albeit an eccentric one: a mass of red-gold hair beneath a stylish black top hat that sported a single maroon feather tucked inside its grey and white band; she wore a man’s frock coat and trousers, both black, beneath which he could see a maroon vest, over a pearl grey shirt. The cherry parasol matched the spike heeled boots that graced her feet. The same parasol that was even now jabbing Darryl in his ribs.

And here he’d thought it was a gun. He pushed the tip away in annoyance, angry with himself for having assumed the worst so quickly. He was rewarded for his efforts with a swat on his head.

“Now, Amandine, is that really necessary?” Sawyer protested, stepping in between her and Darryl, assuming a protective stance.

“Of course, my darling, it’s quite necessary.” She rolled her eyes at him, casually slinging the parasol over one shoulder, as she began to stroll down the sidewalk, away from them.

“Hold on, hold on!” Sawyer protested. He took Darryl’s hand, as they hastened after her. “Don’t be like that, there’s no real reason for it.”

“No? I beg to differ with you. You only call me when you need something from me. Not even a how are you, how have you been? How’s life been treating you, Amandine? Do you need anything? No, it’s just business as usual with you. And when I give in, out of the goodness of my heart, then you parade your latest conquest in front of me and break my heart all over again. How exactly do you expect me to act, Sawyer?”

The longer the woman spoke, the more confused Darryl became. He looked at Sawyer, who was listening, a bored expression playing across his face. As if he’d heard it all before. Many times.

When she was finished, he held up one finger in a wait just a moment gesture. The redhead pouted, but she held her tongue. The look she gave him was openly skeptical. He smirked at her in return, taking Darryl’s hand, and holding it up so that the heart was visible to her.

“Holy Mother of God!” she intoned.

“Indeed,” he agreed.

At this point, Darryl cleared his throat, finding himself the invisible man in this strange conversation. They were talking about him as if he were simply a hand attached to a body, and he felt the need to  interject a little of his own humanity, lest they forget just whom they were dealing with.

“Do you think maybe I could get an introduction?” he asked Sawyer, although he made no effort to remove his hand from the other man’s, so how pissed off could he be. Sawyer raised Darryl’s hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly, sending shivers down Darryl’s spine that quickly eradicated any irritation he might have felt.

“Of course, my love. My pardon. Amandine, might I present to you my dearest Darryl? Darryl, this is Amandine Thomas.”

“Your sister?”

The redhead snorted. “He should be so lucky.” She arched her brows at Sawyer. “Oh, how delicious. I take it then that he knows nothing about me?”

“Most assuredly not. A circumstance I would have favored extenuating if not for our current situation,” Sawyer quickly rejoined before explain in an aside to Darryl, “Ex wife.”

Darryl felt a decided chill run up his spine. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation.

Amandine bowed in his direction. “I would say I’m happy to meet you, Darryl, but considering your present company, I’m afraid that would be an optimistic observation at best.”

“Enough of this.” Sawyer waved an impatient hand. “Come, I have need of you, as well you know.”

Darryl hadn’t paid attention to where they were, but now he became aware that they were standing just outside a delightful  open air bistro. The name of the establishment was found at the top of an arched entryway, crafted in black wrought iron—Le Dejeuner.

If Amandine expected to be escorted into the cafĂ©, her expectations were not met, as Sawyer claimed Darryl in a very proprietary gesture. Or perhaps she expected something of the sort. Snickering, she walked ahead of them, snapping her fingers at the first waiter she saw. “Table for three. We’ll start with a bottle of your most expensive champagne. And keep it coming.” Sawyer groaned, but he didn’t contradict a word she’d said.

Bowing and scraping, the waiter eagerly saw them to one of the better tables, from what Darryl could see. It was set far enough back to possess an air of privacy, and it offered a scenic view of the surrounding countryside, such as could be seen from within Lust.

 Amandine allowed a chair to be pulled out for her; she stuck out her tongue at Sawyer behind the waiter’s back. “That’s how a gentleman behaves!” In response, he pulled two chairs next to one another across from her, as close as he could get, pulling out one of them for Darryl.

“Touche, darling!” she conceded. “So this is the one?” She gazed at Darryl with a mixture of awe and jealousy.

“Indeed he is,” Sawyer replied proudly. “My one and only.” He laid a possessive arm about Darryl’s shoulder.

The waiter brought three menus, and the bottle of champagne. Sawyer tossed one aside, spreading his  for them both. Pointing to something inside, he queried Darryl, “"Which one do you like better, lovie?"

“I think what I’d like is to see your head on a plate.”

Amandine laughed at Darryl, then stopped short. Darryl hadn’t spoken. She glanced behind them, her mouth dropping open. Their heads swiveled in unison.

Standing behind them was a large cow.

To be continued...

Do not forget to visit my fellow Flashers!

Lily Sawyer       m/m
Lindsay Klug       m/f
Heather Lin        m/f
Elyzabeth VaLey       m/f            **FLASH VIRGIN HERE**
Victoria Blisse      m/f

And there you have it!  Hope you enjoy these weekly sessions with the authors of Silver! We certainly enjoy bringing them to you! Have questions, comments or suggestions?  We'd love to hear from you!

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie


  1. Wow, Julie, two for the price of one. I'm catching up on my reading so I'll have to go back for the first installment of Scent of a Wolf.

  2. Might do it again next week, until I'm ready to relinquish one series or the other to work on outside of the flash lol

  3. Can't wait to find out what the large cow wanted!