Here is a list of all the authors flashing this week, along with a brief snippet from their latest free work. Click the link after the snippet to be taken to the complete story on the author’s home page
Here Kitty Kitty: Chapter 11.2 By Carol Pedroso
Simon came awake with a start. What had he been dreaming about? Whatever it was had left him with a feeling of dread. He shook off the feeling and stretched.
He headed out to the main room and found Kitryn reading a book by the fire with the kits playing around his feet.
“You okay?” Kitryn asked when he looked up.
“Yeah, just a weird dream. I can’t even remember what it was about, just the feeling it left behind when I woke up.”
Adrift: Chapter 2 by J. Alan Veerkamp
“You could stay the night.”
Davis brushed his knuckles along Arad’s shoulder. Holding back a shudder, Arad smoothed back his hair still damp from the shower. The embedded wall sconces were calibrated in automatic night mode, bathing the one room flat with a meager level of illumination. In the poor light, Davis’ pleading eyes were dilated with barely any visible color left. He meant the words now, but when the drug wore off, the morning would be painfully awkward for them both.
“I need to go.”
“You always say that.” A strobe of harsh light from a passing trawler swept through the window slats, highlighting Davis’ sturdy, naked body.
In Pieces #17 (6.1) by Julie Lynn Hayes
The speaker was an older man, somewhere around Ryan’s dad’s age, maybe, although he could have passed for a lot younger. His dark hair was thick and wavy, barely touched with a hint of gray, falling just to his shoulders, and his forehead showed just the slightest signs of a thinning hairline. His hazel eyes exuded good humor, while the lines around his full pink lips showed a man who smiled a lot. Like now. The man was very casually dressed in a pair of relaxed jeans that looked well-worn and comfortable, and a T-shirt emblazoned with a picture of the Mona Lisa.
“Hope I didn’t startle you,” he went on, when Ryan didn’t immediately answer, too taken aback by his sudden appearance to string two words together. “Why don’t I start then? My name’s Cameron Pope.” He held his hand out to Ryan.
The second guard had time to turn toward me before I had my hands locked under his first set of arms. I yanked him forward, dislocating both joints. He howled, his voice high-pitched and penetrating my skull like a dagger. I flinched backward, flinging him up and over my head even though he was twice my size.
Spinning, I locked my knee against his short, squat neck, searching for the weak spot. There was always one. His lower arms batted at my free leg as he continued to howl through the holes in the center of his face. Apparently he