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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2019
Submitted to Contest #45
Trigger warning: sexual assault His hand on her skin felt like it belonged. Her body arched upward, deepening their kiss. A moan began and ended in her throat, and his ears caught it, turning off the part of his brain capable of coherent thought. His senses teased by the subtle hints of her fruity smell, his hands moved with a deftness that came with practice, sliding across her exposed midriff and ducking into her blouse. Her hands were on his before he could find the clasp of her bra. She pulled back. ‘Whoa.’ Adesua’s wide, amused e...
He flipped the phone open and stuck it to his ear. ‘Yeah?’ ‘Mr. Miller?’ The voice on the other end was gruff, but undeniably feminine. He recognized it immediately. ‘You’ll have to come to the school. Now.’ Jojo pinched the space between his eyes, and dashed to the side in time to avoid colliding with men in scrubs wheeling in another stretcher. ‘What happened?’ The whine in his voice held the unspoken this time. ‘Your son trapped another boy in his locker, Mr. Miller! An asthmatic boy!’ With all the rage that floated over th...
Submitted to Contest #32
“Welcome to Kong’s Castle,” Faye said, forcing cheer into her now raspy voice, resisting the urge to collapse unto the restaurant’s hardwood floor and empty herself of a well-deserved sigh. “May I take your orders?” “Really?” The woman on one end of the square table whipped her head up from the menu she was scanning, then slapped the leather-bound book shut, with enough ferocity that a draft must have fanned her face. She trained furious eyes on Faye. “That’s it? May I take your orders? No apologies?” She ran her fingers over the fringes on ...
Submitted to Contest #27
‘Right.’ Zeinab drops her yellow tote on the table, then lowers her rear into the swivel chair. One hand sweeps thick brown tresses from off her face to a vague point behind her ear. Elbows on the table, she links her fingers and props her chin on them, then emits the longsuffering sigh of a busy person confronted with a full diaper. ‘From where I stand—’ ‘You’re sitting,’ Martha says, two wrinkled fingers flipping the page of her weighty hardcover. ‘Well, metaphorically,’ Zeinab says in utmost calm, quelling the words that originally thr...
Submitted to Contest #20
The teacher’s left strap was crooked.Peter’s eyes were fixed on the anomaly. It was off her shoulder. He didn’t fancy himself an expert in women’s clothing, but he had seen his fair share of off-shoulder sleeves. When they were intended to be asymmetrical, they had an acceptable weirdness to them, like a synthetic diamond – fake, but good enough for a child’s tiara, so not entirely useless. It was different when they were unintentionally lopsided. With Miss Jones’s every movement, the sagging sleeve twisted, with such growing persistence tha...
The Emergency Mom Handbook1. Turn on the radio. Wipe down the kitchen counter. Get lost in the sultry tunes of slow jazz. Let the subtle rays of late afternoon sunshine warm you through the open window, while you shut your eyes and inhale, letting your sense of smell tell you if the chicken is ready for plating. 2. Open your eyes. Pout. 3. Remember: You never turned on the music because, let’s be real, who still listens to jazz? The chicken is on the stove...
Submitted to Contest #19
‘Ah, hello there,’ said a voice from above her. ‘This is Madame’s, yes?’Of course. It made sense. A customer would see the neon sign in front of the shop that announced that yes, this was indeed Madame’s, but would step inside and ask the question anyway. Why stop there? Why not make Isabel spell it out? Isabel kneaded the back of her neck for two more seconds and looked up, less to help, more to match the smell to its owner. Her hand flew to grip the end of the counter, and she managed to stay on her feet. The woman was bathed in an as...
Submitted to Contest #14
I was staring at the pool by the stern when she shrieked. I pressed my fingers to my temples, waiting for the ringing in my ears to die down. How I hadn’t gotten used to Sophie’s random squeals was in itself chafing, especially as I’d been her servant a whole twenty-two days. Normally that was enough time for me to adapt. ‘Well?’ came a man's gruff voice, this time from close by. My head jerked to the right. Chef Kojo stood there, his crinkled brows hooding already sunken eyes. ‘Go!’ Biting back a sigh, I hurried down the h...
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