Seven Deadly Sins, A YA Anthology available on Amazon & freeze frame fiction’s first birthday

Today is a glorious day.

Not because the sun is shining  or because our dryer got delivered this morning. Not even because I prepared the asparagus risotto I love so much for the first time this year –although all of the above already amount to a pretty awesome day in my book.

No. Today is glorious because it’s the day our “baby”, the Seven Deadly Sins YA Anthology – Pride was published. It was a long and challenging process but we did it and you can now buy the delicious fruit of our labor from Amazon as an eBook and a paperback.

cover_amazon

If you don’t want to pay for your copy (we get it, we’re tight on cash, too) you can join our Facebook launch party and enter a giveaway for a free eBook copy. What are you waiting for? The giveaway ends April 2.

But that is not yet all.

Today also marks freeze frame fiction‘s first birthday. It’s been a year since Dino Laserbeam published the first issue of this amazing new publication, focusing on great flash fiction.

As if that wasn’t enough reason to celebrate, this issue also includes a flash story called Replay, by none other than the nose featured on my profile picture. The artwork accompanying the story was created by Luke Spooner, a.k.a. Carrion House.

Replay

Stop by freeze frame fiction, read the issue and show some love for the people who put it together.

All previous issues of fff are available for purchase on Amazon as well.

Looking forward to seeing you at the parties. I’ll be be the one in the corner with the stupid smile on her face.

Have a great month everyone 🙂

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Story a Day in May – Day 5 a.k.a. impromptu prompt

So, today’s prompt was to write a story about a character who’s done something they feel shame for OR a story with 140 characters (the ones we type, not the walking/talking kind).

Seeing as I could neither come up with a good idea for the first prompt, nor reduce a story I wrote to under 30 words (which is what 140 characters would mean) for the second one, I decided to be a non-conformist (once more) and went with a prompt of my own: Write a story of up to 100 words.

So, here you have it (this probably sucks balls, but shhhh, we’ll keep it between us)

P.S. I’ll continue trying to come up with a 140-character story and will post if I am successful.

 

Oscar Wilde memorial in Dublin
Oscar Wilde memorial in Dublin

 

She says dreams are for the hopeless.

I say they’re for the hopeful.

She frowns.

I laugh.

She moves out. Marries. Leaves her job.

I travel. Adopt a cat named Einstein.

We meet for coffee.

She drinks her latte in hurried gulps.

She has to be home soon.

She says life is a struggle.

I say it’s a discovery.

She says, you don’t understand.

I say, I do. Life is what you make of it.

Story a Day in May – Days 2+3

Really flowery poem in the making.
Really flowery poem in the making.

Story a Day in May started on May 1st and I am already behind. Being a creative person though, I thought of a way to  merge the prompts of Day 2 and 3 and write something combining them both, i.e. prepare yourself for a somewhat free  magnetic poetry session using, amongst others, the words “vermillion” and “musky”.

Because that is how a writer do.

Don’t shoot the pianist, or throw tomatoes at her. This is my first attempt at poetry after a looong time. You may laugh inwardly at my inability to rhyme properly.

I won’t hold it against you. Really. I won’t.

 

Her sordid rose

bleeds vermillion drops

in the scouring rain

The sky cracks

and twists

its sympony frantic

— black

its beauty sour

with rage

He says her dreams

are ugly

and so is her heart

but she loves him

… still

for the waxy taste of his sweat

on her skin

for his urge in the dark

to pick her apart

and feast on the bones of her will

After the storm

her languid remnants

tired with

delirious lust

sleep

under a dying moon

and she sleepwalks

in the windstricken garden

where her rose lays bare

on a rock

the early-morning dew

a memory of the wind

and the anger

and the fleeting warmth of his whisper

in the night

the petals scattered

the stem devoured

Forever his for the picking.

Forever hers for offering up.