WEEK 66: Back to school

Prompted by: Roxanne Victor

The crazy author says: I’m digging these creative prompts a lottle. That’s like a little but a lot, ya know?

“Aww, poor baby.”

He shoots me a glare with murderous intent.

I jump as his hand slams onto the artwork and crumples it into an angry little ball.

Which goes flying in the same direction as the pen.

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WEEK 65: Two coffees and a straw

Prompted by: Sam

The crazy author says: I crammed all 4 of Miss Sam’s suggestions into this bugger…

  1. Two coffees and a straw
  2. Fool me once
  3. Scared shitless
  4. We go way overboard

But he has nothing to worry about. Sunshine will be returned without a scratch on her. His motorized baby is in safe hands.

Besides the obvious offenses, Trace is a responsible, law-abiding citizen. Even though it’s the middle of the night and the streets are barren, he comes to a full stop at every red. I get nervous at the fourth intersection. Because when the light turns green…

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WEEK 63: The burn, it soothes me

Prompted by: AnRo

The crazy author says: Maybe we’ll switch the POV next week. Ehh, maybe not. Dunno yet…

Then he starts to purr and I melt into an instant puddle.

I swear to God, my colossus of a man sounds like a fluffy, newborn kitten. Yeah, we’ve been reduced to kittens and fucking puddles. It doesn’t even matter. I’m perfectly content.

Until he shifts to nuzzle closer and leaves a trail of fresh blood smeared across my chest.

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WEEK 62: Mom and boy next door

Prompted by: Susan Lage Martin

The crazy author says: Trace is giving me warm fuzzies. Is that normal? I don’t think so…

Trace staggers forward, flattening my spine against the wall, and leans away to look at me.


I can hardly see but I know he’s beautiful. His thumb sweeps across my lashes as a heavy sob breaks from my chest, fragmenting the words, “You s-scared me.”

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WEEK 61: You smell like my dead grandmother

Prompted by: Laura

The crazy author says: Yeah, I realize he’d be too drugged up for this to happen but anything’s possible when you combine adrenaline and fiction, right? Riiight? Meh.

One squeeze and he releases me, reaching for the bandage covering his eye.

Tech grabs his wrist. “Stop.”

An agonized sound hammers past its prison of teeth and metal, drowning out the command. If he could scream, he probably would. His hips buck violently and all hell breaks loose.

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WEEK 60: I forgot to breathe

Prompted by: Jane Jago

The crazy author says: Okay, I think my brain kinda crossed over to the “other” side again. Should I be worried? Cuz I’m a tad bit worried…

Tech didn’t just fuck up.

He almost got his brother killed and might’ve left him a vegetable. We don’t know yet. It’s been three days and we don’t know yet.

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