Tag Archives: creative writing

After the holiday party (A Short Story)

Eilene’s perfectly coifed bouffant stood up against even the wind that was blowing in the woods. A classic look called for a classic outfit. She loved her dress with its A-line skirt and fitted waist. It felt like she was transformed to the 50s. She loved the fashion sense those women had. They had so much style.

“Eilene…you don’t want to do this,” Jim’s voice was like a gnat buzzing around her ear. She’d decided this holiday season was going to end differently. Ever since she’d gone to the holiday party- Holiday party, why didn’t people just say Christmas for crying out loud? Can’t good Christians have anything?– at the law firm, she’d known things would be taking a turn. She also knew he wouldn’t be making it for partner any time soon.

“Jim, darling, do be a dear, and shut your mouth,” she said with a smile. She was wearing a bright red lipstick that was perfect for the Christmas season. It was one of those newer lip stains that didn’t smudge or smear. Remarkable!

If that harlot would’ve been wearing it, Eilene wouldn’t have noticed her lipstick on front of Jim’s boxers. At least it wasn’t as clichéd as his collar. She knew it wasn’t her color. She would never wear something as vulgar as a plum. Simple out of order, that slut was.

At the office party, everyone has seemed so quiet when she walked in. They’d all known and as such they hadn’t been expecting her. A party certainly wasn’t any fun without a surprise. And she was always so much fun at parties.

“Honey, I’m under the mistletoe,” she’d said, smiling at Jim.

He’d shaken his head at her, “Just go home Eilene. You can leave the cookies. George loves those cookies, isn’t that right George?” And he’d given a chuckle and a wink at one of the partners. The man had nodded back stiffly. Jim was always too much of a fool to see who really liked him.

And who was his enemy wait for his next stumble. There was never a long wait.

Eilene stood over the roasting fire, soot clung to the bottom of her gingham apron. She’d unthinkingly wiped her hands on it earlier. Now it was stained. Club soda wouldn’t take out that stained. Now there was brownish flaking hand smears running down the front.

This was her favorite too one. Ruined about cause of that stupid bitch. Her teeth clenched and she would’ve stabbed her again, if she wasn’t already burning in the fire. She’d splashed her with some of Jim’s propane that he had collecting dust in their hallway closet. No matter how many times she’d asked him to move it to the basement. It was as though he couldn’t be bothered with anything that involved her.

It’s only premeditation if she’s caught.

She backed away from the fire pit, looking all around. The snow had really helped her today, laying down thick layers blanketing the sounds and the prints. She leaned down and laced up Jim’s snow boots. He always did love these things. They were part of his “Mountaineer Trekker” outfit. He didn’t actually like mountain climbing or camping. He just liked to look the part.

“Lene…sweetheart…you don’t have to do this. We. Can. Work. It. Out,” his voice was so thread and weak. It was just like him to try to sweet talk her now. Like there was any going back. Things had happened today. Words had been exchanged that couldn’t be taken back. Blood was on her good apron!

She had been so glad for the heater still working in her second hand car, when she waited for him and his whore to pull out of the parking garage in his brand new Mercedes. She knew they’d be going to their little get away. The lakehouse. Very picturesque this time of year.

He never seemed to have time to take her in the past. Imagine her surprise when Eilene had decided to clean a bit for the winter- you never could trust those maid services to do it right– and to find a tube of lipstick in that same lip color. Plum And lingerie that certain didn’t suit her more classic looks. She’d known then that she needed to bring the sanctity back to her marriage.

“Do you know darling?” Eilene turned and took a good look at him laid against the log. He was so groggy from the drugs she’d slipped in his coffee a few hours ago. Perfect to his demands. Just like his eggs benedict and his English muffin. He’d ordered a service to bring them their meals in her bed. HER BED.

She kicked the girls foot causing embers to shoot into the sky. It smelled vaguely of bacon. Had she eaten breakfast today? “This could’ve all been avoided. I just wanted you to honor your vows. Is that too much to ask?”

She glanced at the fire again, adding another log to it. Once she was done here, she’d make sure to put out the fire so the animals would have something to eat. No need to waste the meat, just because it wasn’t to her taste.

“You’re so unbelievably predictable, Jim. You made things so easy,” she laughed. The sound sliced the air; sent a flock of birds flying from the trees nearby. They must have been crows attracted to the smell, but not to her, she thought.


He’d gone to the lakehouse. And the girl had gone in with him. And Eilene had been waiting for them. She’d parked on the other side of the lake, and headed through the woods where she wouldn’t be seen. Wearing his boots. The girl hadn’t had a chance to scream. Eilene was thorough and never was afraid of a little hard work. To get a little dirty.

“Eilene. You have to stop this. You have to-“

She turned quickly, her dress’s silhouette flowing around her. She smiled again, “I’m sorry darling, I don’t think you understand the situation here. I don’t have to do anything. Nothing. You reap what you sow mister.” She laughed a little, “And you’ve been sowing her for how long?”

She took one step toward him. And then another. His eyes widened looking down at her chef’s knife and where it was pointed.

“Merry Christmas, Jim,” she said.


This is my addition to the #writestuff short story prompt for the month. If you’re interested in putting your own spin on it, check out the prompt here. This was a fun one to write, very cathartic. I think this would make a fine addition to an anthology.

Aloha y’all! 


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The Reverie Launch and Project WriteTube Update

This happened on Friday! Please get your free copy of the Kindle version. It’s been a long time coming and I’m incredibly excited! You can hear me go on more about it in the video below.

I’m so excited that Project #WriteTube is firmly on its way! I’ve loved the information that the ladies have imparted this week. Kellie Sheridan discussed to NaNo or Not to NaNo. She’s a 10 year veteran of NaNo and had a lot of great observations as to why you should try it out. Burgess Taylor gave some incites into how to narrow down your NaNo ideas. Alex from WordsMaiden gives some really great tools for how to keep motivated-tips that are great regardless of whether you’re doing NaNo or not.

Here’s my video with the wrap-up for the week. I discuss their videos and I also talk about all the aforementioned things and give you sneak peaks into the videos.

Come chat with me in the comments!

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The bait and switch | Short Story

I found this is my drafts you guys. I have no idea why I didn’t post it…so here’s something I wrote in February…


Bodies were sliding against each other, grinding and bouncing. The club was stifling, the air thick with expectations and cheap cologne. They were all young 20-somethings in the beginning of their lives, and loving it all. Slurping down ladies night cheap drinks and the boys drinking as much beer as possible to try to show they were the men there tonight.

Dani sat on the side, watching as her friends danced around. Forever the purse watcher.

“Dani hold my purse, you’re great!” said a blonde girl on her co-ed floor. She didn’t even know here name, but just added it to the pile. She  wondered why she hadn’t stayed home to read. This just wasn’t her scene. She preferred to go out and watch bands play. Drinking cheap beer with cheaper girls, partying until dawn.

This wasn’t her life.

Someone stumbled into her, and a drinking spilled on her shoulder. No apology. She gritted her teeth, but didn’t say a word.

She sighed, blowing the persistent curl from her light brown eyes. She wasn’t wearing makeup, she felt it was a waste of time. She wore Burts Bees lip balm to keep her lips soft and supple. The purple dress she was wearing was the perfect foil to her dark brown skin. It had a mod feel to it, with orange deco jewels circling her collar. Her legs were thick at the hips. She would never have the coveted “thigh gap.” Surrounded by all of the bodies moving, teaming, sweating in their size 0 bodies, she felt so incredibly out of place. She wanted to crawl back into her favorite dive bar, drinking cheap beers, smoking cigarettes behind the place and dancing to music.

But it was her roommate Sara’s birthday.

So here she was.

She’d quickly learned to get drinks with as few ingredients as possible. Who can mess up tequila, orange juice and grenadine? She took a drink and made a sour face. Apparently, that chick could. Did she put turpentine in there? She shrugged and kept drinking it anyway. Money was money and alcohol was alcohol. She couldn’t go through with this torture sober. The lame EDM wannabe music blaring in the background made her want to stab her eardrums with a toothpick. She took another drink and looked around.

That’s when she saw him.

He walked toward her with a self-confidence that she seldom saw from the boys around here. Dark hair, darker eyes, and a smile spoke of some possibly dark things to come. She stopped herself from glancing behind her to see if he was walking toward her. She was against the wall. There was no one else there.

He leaned down and he smelled like a spicy heaven.

“Hey I’m Chris.”

“Hey,” she said, putting her hand on his arm as she leaned forward to hear him. His forearm felt like it was made from bricks.

“I’m a Marine,” he voice had a low rumble to it. He leaned closer, trying to not glance down at her bared cleavage.

“Oh you are?” Her eyes sparkled. She’d always had a thing for a man in a uniform and from what she could tell, he would wear it well.

He nodded, “Yeah, I’m on leave before I head out to Afghanistan.”

She felt a pang of sympathy, “Wow, shouldn’t you be saying goodbye to your loved ones?”

“I don’t have anyone,” he paused his works, swallowing deeply. “I just wanted one night where I wouldn’t have to be alone before I left. One last night. You know?” He was so close to her, his breath tickled her neck. She could feel his lips gently shaping the words. and she wanted to taste them.

“Yea, I get it.”

And he leaned back and looked into her eyes. Paused a beat. Then patted her on the shoulder. “Yeah, I thought that would work, thanks!” He straightened and walked with that same single-sighted purpose to the busty blonde sitting at the end of the bar. He had practiced his line on her so he could get laid by some other chick. He probably wasn’t even in the Armed Forces. What a- what a-

She was choking with anger. She stood, the chair sliding into the wall with a crack. The people near her turned to see what was going to happen. She grabbed her purse and her half empty glass. She rushed at him, teeth bared. Letting out a warrior cry, she threw it in his face, the plastic cup bounced off his nose.

“Whydon’t you remember that while you’re in Afghanistan? Creep.” She turned and walked out the door.

Fuck these people. She needed a real drink.


This story is the incredibly late addition to the #writestuff TweetChat monthly prompt. February’s prompt was Anti-Valentine’s Day. Here’s what came up. Let me know what you think in the comments.

Aloha y’all! 

PS: Did you read Chapter One from the Just One Night serial? Click here and check it out. 


Filed under Short Stories