I love writing short stories. Recently the Wednesday Brief’s
crew has taken to writing shorts. My first short experience with the Wednesday
group was a twisted tale of another time when passions and emotions were
suppressed by the government for hundreds of years before the government
changed its mind and allowed the people to stop taking the drugs. The Passion
Bringers were created to help people learn to feel. You can find Passion
Bringers in Wicked
Watchers: Looking at the Lads.
The attraction and love in short stories may come about
quickly, but there is no less emotion at play. Working in the emotions with
small clues is paramount. I love getting my characters to that place, where
they can’t help but tumble into a relationship. Where there is something so desperate,
so amazing, or so devastating that they turn to another, maybe they see
something different and bam, they are in love.
Love is one of those qualities the is so hard to know why it
happens. Attraction happens. People try to pinpoint why two people are
attracted to each other but it’s almost an incomprehensible quality that is
hard to comprehend. The color of a person’s eyes, their hair color, the way
they walk, all of it plays into attraction and falling in love.
Here’s a short excerpt of Missing Love
Missing
Love
By Sara
York
“Please, I’m begging you, don’t
go.” Brad stumbled forward; his eyes stung from the tears he’d cried, his nose
ran, and his head throbbed. Getting Rick back was the most important thing he’d
ever do. Life would end without Rick. The guy was his all in all, his rock, his
true love, and his world. They’d spent years together, had too many firsts
together to even count. And yet Rick was walking away, ready to end their
relationship, all because of a fight. Fuck, they’d fought like dogs for years,
but they still loved each other.
“Brad, give it up. I’m done.”
Rick stood across the room, ramrod straight, his mouth tilted down in a scowl.
“You aren’t what I want anymore. I have other needs and you don’t fill the
bill.”
“I don’t understand. Tell me what
I did wrong.” Brad stumbled on his way to reach Rick; falling to his knees, he
grasped onto Rick’s pants front. “Please.”
Rick brushed off Brad’s hold, his
face flush, his eyes flashing with contempt. “You aren’t enough.”
“But what about our history
together? We’ve been together for years. Doesn’t that mean anything?”
“Fuck Brad, I didn’t want to have
to say it, but you’re giving me no choice. I’m seeing someone else. I’ve been
fucking this guy for the last six months and quite frankly, he is so much
better than you.”
Brad’s heart stopped and his
vision dimmed. He tried to stand, but fell back onto the floor. He felt like
he’d been hit by a truck, or a wrecking ball, and tossed on his ass then run
over, again and again. Rick’s words tromped through his mind, destroying him,
but he couldn’t make sense of them. “You what?”
“You heard me. I’m done with you.
I’m fucking another guy. Okay. I’m moving in with him, it’s more than just
fucking. I’m in love with him.”
Brad’s brain stalled and he sunk
to the floor, unable to move. Unable to think, he sat like a lump and watched
the only person he’d ever loved walk out of his life. The sun dipped below the
horizon and Brad didn’t move. Darkness overtook the room, mirroring his heart.
Dashed on the rocks and slammed by waves of pain he didn’t move, didn’t think;
he just sat.
The doorbell rang, yet Brad
ignored it. Pounding, more of the doorbell, and finally his phone, but Brad
couldn’t respond. His whole world had shattered and if he moved he might fall
apart, breaking into a million pieces, allowing the wind to carry him away like
sand brushed into nothingness.
Night turned to day and his body
rebelled against him. He ran in search of the bathroom. Lying next to the
toilet after expelling every ounce left in his stomach from last evening, which
wasn’t much, the emptiness threatened to overtake him. He struggled to the
cabinet and pulled out the Swiss Army knife he’d had since he and Rick took
their first camping trip together at the young age of eight. They’d been friends
for so long, finally becoming lovers in their teens. The years flashed through
Brad’s mind and he remembered each significant event. He cradled the knife in
his hands, wondering where he’d gone wrong.
The doorbell started up again,
then the phone. Someone yelled from his front porch and for a moment he thought
of opening the knife, ending it all, but he couldn’t, not without trying to get
Rick back.
Brad crawled to the entryway,
grasped the handle and pulled the door open, half expecting to find Rick—knowing
he wouldn’t be there, but wishing like hell his lover had come back to claim
him. Of course that made no sense since Rick had a key. But the person at the
door wasn’t Rick. Instead Thomas stood on the porch, his face red and his eyes narrowed.
Brad sank to the floor, his back against the wall.
“Why didn’t you answer?” Thomas
barged in, slamming the door behind him. He pulled Brad up off the floor. “For
fuck’s sake, you stink like shit.”
Brad said nothing. He allowed
Thomas to strip him down, soap him up in the shower, then dress him in sweats
and a T-shirt. Brad didn’t resist, didn’t say anything, just did what Thomas
asked and found himself in bed. The days blended together, Thomas always there,
helping him get through the day, forcing him to go into work, forcing him to
eat. Brad dropped twenty pounds and he looked like shit. He moved through life
without living.
Six months after the breakup,
when the fog finally lifted, he looked at himself in the mirror, wondering who
stared back. He showered, dressed, and even shaved without Thomas telling him
to. On his way into the kitchen, he ran into a bleary eyed Thomas leaving the
guest room.
You can pick up Reluctant Romance at Amazon
and AllRomanceebooks.
For more information on Sara York books visit
http://sarayork.com
Thanks for stopping by, Sara, and thanks for being a part of the group!
Until next time, take care!
♥ Julie
