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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Oct, 2023
Submitted to Contest #299
The first hint was blood. A thin, pointillism line of it on the back of his right shoulder blade. A tickle in the back of Prim’s mind, the uncomfortable dissonance of deja vu. She stopped in the middle of the office, staring at him, hunched over his desk, bright beads of life staining his simple blue dress shirt. It was the breadth of his shoulders, the shade of his dark hair, and that line of blood, in exactly the same place. She had seen that man before, that wound before, not in a shirt and slacks, but in skin tight kevlar. The moment was...
Submitted to Contest #280
`"Did you hear?”“Of course I heard, who told you?”“Janice, in accounts.”“Big mouth on Janice.”“Huge mouth on Janice.”“Who told her?”“Apparently she was there.”“What?! When he-”“Yup.”“But why on Earth would she be there?”“No idea.”“Gosh.”“I know.”“Shocking, but sort of…”“Not?”“Well you don’t like to imply things.”“No, of course not.”“I mean, I wouldn’t want anyone to think that I thought that he, well… you know?”“Perish the thought.”“But he was, I mean as much as anyone can be-”“The sort?”“Don’t you think?”“People like that always are. Sensit...
Submitted to Contest #259
In 1847 a man named Peter Malone left Ireland for America. He was a hard worker, a good man by all counts. Like many in Ireland, his family had once been part of a healthy, functioning community. Then the English came. When he left, his town was on the brink of decimation, and his family was reduced to just three members. Him, a man fleeing; his sister, a woman planted like an oak; and his nephew, a child half-orphaned by the greedy fists of English soldiers. Peter’s family had magic in their blood. His great-great-great-something grandmothe...
Submitted to Contest #257
“Please Trix, all the bridesmaids are going with the groomsmen, you’re Maid of Honour and Best Man, you have to ride together.” Hero begged over the phone. Trixie pinned it between her shoulder and cheek, reaching across her desk to pull over the script she was working on. “Hero, he hates me. I hate him. We hate each other. You do not want us riding together, we’ll turn up at the venue covered in each other’s blood.” Trixie could picture it now, Ben Moun...
Submitted to Contest #237
The thing Hart hated most about being a twin was his brother. That’s not true. For the most part Hart loved Nate, really, he did. It’s just that two weeks ago, after being gushingly informed by a woman at work that she had a gay nephew who had just moved to Manchester, Nate had done as Nate was wont to do. He’d dropped Hart in it. Because what was the point of having a gay brother if you couldn’t strong-arm him into a blind date with a random 27-year-old from London to curry favour with a 68-year-old woman in the finance departme...
Submitted to Contest #221
In the six and half weeks immediately following The Rising the government had to prioritise. Priority number one, obviously, was taxes. Say what you want about the religious and social implications of ghosts, everyone knows what really matters is how we charge people for them. After that it was crime and justice. Is a ghost culpable? Can you arrest one? Is the hauntee or the haunter financially responsible for property damage? What I’m getting at here, is that there were a lot of questions, and I spent a lot of time trying to answer them. I ...
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