Wednesday Briefs: February 10, 2021

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.

Ancalagon: Chapter Twenty-five by Cia Nordwell

“I’m glad humans are predictable,” Timok said.  

“That’s enough.” Garjah crouched beside Bouncer’s exercise cage in the hold, one set of hands flat on the floor, the other on the door. We were hiding in one of the tubes they’d set up. It was dark, and small, and I could hide from reality. Bouncer lay across my legs. “Can I come in, Essell?”  

I buried my face against Bouncer’s neck. “I want to stay here.” He was purring against me, nuzzling my cheek.  

“You can stay there. I just want to come in.”  

Click here to read the entire Brief:

Super Trooper #55 (13.1) by Julie Lynn Hayes

Chan had meant to carry the children to their own beds, once they fell asleep. He didn’t think there’d be any harm in their sleeping with him until then. It had all started when he heard Madhu crying. He was just about to go to bed when he heard the whimpers coming from the room she shared with Laksha. Alarmed, he’d hurried to the door and gently opened it.

Laksha was pushing back her blankets, about to get out of bed to tend to her sister.

“I’ve got her,” Chan whispered,

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Frottage Cottage:  Part 1 by J Ray Lamb

“Three hours flipping through real estate websites to see if I can find a place I want to live and lots of candidates. Now to spend another few hours researching the places I found to see if the housing is worth it.”

Rob Janot slumped down in his office chair. He was trying to find someplace quiet for a change of climate but also a slower pace of life. He’d settled on the Missouri bootheel and much to his surprise he started to look in an area of Northeast Arkansas.

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Phases of Moon: Part 70 by J. Alan Veerkamp

Fergus stroked the mug’s handle with an absentminded thumb. Seated in his armchair, he stared off into the distance, wondering how long it had been. Nothing beyond the incessant motor of the kitchen clock held his preoccupied mind. He closed his free hand into a fist to stop himself from continuously scratching. Much more and he’d wear a fresh hole in the thigh of his jeans.

Choices had been made. A message had been sent, the likes of which he’d never written before, and he refused to feel guilty for it. In the world of wolves, his authority was absolute.

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