Friday, January 9, 2015

"Dead On The Floor" by Rocky Rochford (Short Story)

Genre:  Paranormal Thriller

Type of Short Story:  Short Story

Summary:  The beginning of the End starts now. For some of us, Life can be cruel, dealing us a losing hand and for Matthew Radley, a young Wiccan practitioner that is exactly what he got. After a lifetime of chaos, pain and losing himself, he finally got everything he wanted, the woman he loved, the future he desired and a reason to live, but in a single moment he lost it all. Unable to take the pain and no longer desire to live, Matthew takes the one thing he has left, his own life. For Matthew, his story has to end, in order for it to begin, his story has no happy ending, for his is a life of Love, Magick, Corruption, & Death and only asks for understanding.


How did it all go so wrong? I saw this coming and I still couldn’t change it! It still came to this! I failed. I had risked everything, and now I have nothing. Forgive me. With skin parted and veins severed, blood is quick to emerge and drip everywhere. Droplets of blood fall into the sink, and as a wide-eyed Matthew takes a step back, his blood now hits the ground. It is now that he sits himself down against the bath and accepts what is to come, bringing him to the here and now. “I should have known that it would be love that kills me.” He winces. “But what’s done is done.”

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Friday, January 2, 2015

"Biker Babe (Lady Godiva 1)" by April Ryder (Novelette)

Genre:  Contemporary Romance

Type of Short Story:  Novelette

Summary:  BBW Motorcycle Romance

What does a meek, plump housewife in sensible-heeled shoes do when stranded on a desolate highway after running away from home? She hitches a ride back to civilization with a hot biker, that's what! And so what if she has to stay overnight in a disgusting motel room that has half a mirror on the ceiling above the only bed? I'm an adult. I can handle it. I mean, she can!


The room was as bad as I had feared, with a dog-eared, tired look to it and the bed well used. I knew he was watching me from the door as I made my way across the small living slash bedroom and into the bathroom. A bathroom that proudly displayed its mould. I quickly left the cramped—and highly infections—little room to find him studying the ceiling above the lone bed. I shouldn’t have looked. Of course there was a mirror—well, half of one. My brain refused to speculate on what had happened to the missing half.

“It’ll do,” he said.

I stared at him wide-eyed. How could he think this flea-bag motel was an acceptable place to spend the night? No wonder they charged by the hour.

The corners of his dammed sexy mouth turned up. He was enjoying my discomfort. He probably a thought a woman like myself would complain, make demands that they upgrade, or refuse to stay in a place so…so disgusting. I kept my mouth shut. Of course I thought of saying all of the above, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of proving him right. I was lucky he had taken pity on me and picked me up in the first place. For that I was grateful. I glanced at the bed but quickly looked away. I wasn’t that grateful.

He nodded and opened the door. “I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?” I asked, not liking how scared my voice sounded at the thought of being left alone.

He paused but didn’t look back. “I’ve business here.”

His words reminded me of my husband and I suddenly felt empty inside. “Of course you do,” I whispered. 

“I’ll be back with something to eat,” he said before the door clicked behind him.

He wasn’t abandoning me in this potentially roach-infested room, I told myself. I couldn’t expect him to put his life on hold to help me get back home. A home I had been running away from. If he hadn’t had business nearby, he wouldn’t have been there to rescue me. But rescue me from what? Being stranded on the highway, from my life or perhaps from myself.

I snorted. A crass sound I had never before made. This was getting me nowhere. I had to deal with the here and now, not worry about tomorrow. Right now I needed a shower, but before I could do that, I had to clean it.

The towels were mercifully clean. After standing in the claustrophobic shower and removing as much of the highway as I could, I towel-dried my hair. Of course there were blow dryers. Not for this ritzy place. After inspecting the bed for roaches, bed bugs and other greeblies, I had wrapped myself tightly in another towel and climbed in. My eyes must have been closed for longer than the few minutes I had thought, because when I next opened them the room was dark. The darkness didn’t scare me. The shadow looming over me did.

I screamed. How had he found me?
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