prompts, writing

Story Prompt #6

You are the first person to travel to the moon in fifty years. You arrive and all forms of communication with Earth drop. You step out and you’re greeted by a large group in spacesuits. One steps forward and looks at you curiously. “You escaped, too?”

 

Any stories from this prompt submitted using my contacts page have a chance to be published on my site with a link to your page. Have fun writing!

prompts, writing

Submit Your Short Story Today!

Do you love to write and want to see your work in print? Want to be able to write on your resume that you’ve been published as an author? I would love to help you!

Submit a short story based on any prompt previously posted and you’ll be entered for a chance to be published on my site. I’ll also tag your site or blog so my readers can find more of your great work!

prompts, writing

Story Prompt

“Two mountain climbers have reached the summit they never thought they could get to. Tell the story of them making their way back down.”

 

If you need help with the setting, check out my post on How to Write a Cold Weather Scene.

Any stories from this prompt submitted using my contacts page have a chance to be published on my site with a link to your page. Have fun writing!

 

Sunday Story Segment, writing

Asena Ch 7: Partners

“Tell me again why she’s here?” Danny asked me. He was in his uniform and was taking notes in a tiny notebook. Similarly dressed cops were swirling around the hotel room. Forensics techs were dusting for fingerprints and detectives were theorizing with each other.

“I didn’t expect there to be a body,” I snapped. “I figured it might shock him to see her, or at the least, she’s got some great observational skills. Plus, she begged and since she’s the one paying me, I couldn’t exactly say no.”

I crossed my arms and leaned on the couch. Marlene was sitting in an easy chair near the fireplace, a shock blanket around her shoulder. She had only said a few words to the cops and I jumped every time her hand went near her pocket. Tampering with a crime scene was a serious offense.

She stared intently at the fireplace but I was pretty sure her mind was far away. I had tried to convince her to at least let me hold on to the ruby, but she wouldn’t part with it. She had barely wanted to call the cops, but I think some of the shock was truly starting to set in.

“And you didn’t see anyone? Nothing suspicious?” Danny pressed. I had already given my statement to a different cop, but Danny had demanded to be allowed to question me again.

“Besides the fact that your apparent overdose victim felt the need to tape his door handle open?”

“Asena, all signs point to an overdose. He probably invited people over, maybe a drug dealer or someone else celebrating, and just left the door open for them so he wouldn’t have to stop midway. Stupid, yes, but not that strange. He made a large score, spent the money on drugs, and overdid it, simple as that.” Danny seemed to think I was under some delusion after I had scoffed loudly at the overdose diagnosis the coroner had given. The coroner had shot white-hot glares at me after the officer in charge wouldn’t allow him to throw me out.

It just wasn’t sitting right, even if Danny made good points. “He hadn’t sold the jewels yet, though. Where’d he get the money?” I gestured to the guy bagging all the jewelry who was standing partially in the doorway.

“He probably spent every penny he already had, plus cash he lifted from the Pembrooks, expecting a big payday the moment he sold those.”

It wasn’t a terrible idea, but I wasn’t buying it. I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath.

“I don’t care. The Pembrooks hired me, the jewels are there. This whole dead body business is for you guys. If you don’t think there was any foul play, I’ll leave it be.”

“Seriously?” Danny asked and his voice was hopeful.

“In my books, this case is closed for me. I have no reason to poke around.” I wasn’t getting paid, I was just getting back into Danny’s good graces, and last thing I needed was to get involved in a homicide, if that was even what had happened. At the very least, I wasn’t going to do anything while Marlene was still here, with a stolen ruby hidden in her pocket. My best option was to let it rest, see if the cops came up with anything more after their investigation and go from there.

“I cannot tell you what a relief that is,” Danny said and his shoulders sagged as he closed his notebook. “I’ll admit, I was a bit freaked when I was told Asena Patterson phoned in a dead body. I know,” he said, raising his hands defensively as I frowned, “you can take care of yourself. But if someone was killing over this, it’s nice knowing you’re not about to go piss them off.”

“Ha-ha,” I said dryly. “Your worrying is all over, I’m just fine. But do you have any more questions? I need to get Ms. Princess back soon before her bodyguard does kill me.”

Danny laughed and waved me off. Marlene’s bodyguard had been steps behind the police when they arrived and it took two officers to convince him to wait outside, and that was only after Marlene had assured him she was fine. The police weren’t going to have us standing around uselessly when both her guard and the Pembrooks were anxious to see their daughter. And I was anxious to have that stolen jewel a little further from prying police eyes. I could see the bulge in her pocket and despite lying flawlessly that she touched nothing, I was still wound tight.

I walked up to Marlene and stood, clutching the blanket tightly around her shoulders. It made her hair stand up, static flinging it every which way. She turned big, wide eyes on me.

“Asena,” she whispered, looking around to see if anyone was close enough to hear. We had been all but forgotten at this point. “What’s our next step?” I blinked at her. I had been expecting shock but this looked a lot more like an adrenaline high.

“Our next step,” I replied, mocking her whisper, “is to get out of here, get you home, and spend the rest of the night faxing over your invoice.”

“C’mon,” she whined. “What are we going to do about the murder?”

“One,” I stuck one finger up.  “We don’t even know if there was a murder. The police are calling it an overdose.” I lifted another finger. “Two. You’ve got your job completed. We have no reason to investigate.”

She flung the blanket on the chair and glared at me. “One. It was a murder. Two. I want to know who stole it, not just get it returned.”

“I believe the man in the body bag stole it,” I snapped. I really just wanted to go home and wash off the smell of this room.

“You know as well as I do that he wasn’t the mastermind behind all of this.”

“Mastermind?” I scoffed. “Marlene, this isn’t some spy movie. You aren’t a Bond girl who helps save the day and everything turns out alright. This is dangerous and not something you can just play around with.”

“Don’t patronize me,” she snarled and it was the first time I had seen her truly angry. Her face was flushed and her teeth bared. “Someone targeted my family, and it wasn’t this idiot. There was a smear from another line of coke on the dresser but it was wiped off, not snorted. Somebody else was here who decided not to join in on the fun. Almost like that someone knew the coke was messed up.  Plus, Francis already had money to pay for this hotel, but didn’t sell a single jewel. And his door was left open so someone would find him quickly. None of this screams accidental OD.”

Her voice had steadily gotten louder and I glanced around. Danny was in the other room, but was staring with an eyebrow raised. I was pretty sure he hadn’t heard, but Marlene’s face was giving him pause.

“Quiet,” I hissed, turning back to her. “I don’t disagree with you.” I hated admitting it, but I had just been saying the same things to Danny. “But you’re sitting there with a hot piece of jewelry, you have no training in this type of thing, and if you’re right, we’re facing someone dangerous who doesn’t hesitate to get rid of pawns.”

“So you’re telling me this isn’t over?” she pushed. “You’ll keep investigating? And you’ll take me with you?” She stressed the last question, folding her arms.

“Marlene,” I started and my tone must have tipped her off.

“I’ll do it myself. If you think I’m so inexperienced, will you really let me run off by myself? How much more dangerous is that?”

I frowned. She would get herself killed in minutes if she poked the wrong person the wrong way. I couldn’t just let that happen.

“You’re going to pay a fortune for sidekick privilege. I’m gonna bill you for all of this,” I grumbled. Danny was going to kill me when he found out.

“Yay,” she squeaked. I could see her straining not to jump up in glee but thankfully she realized a crime scene was not the place for happy outbursts. “But, we’re partners in this, I’m not a sidekick.”

I frowned. Partner was way beyond her role but it wasn’t worth an argument now. “How sure are you that was coke on the desk?”

“I’ve seen it before. The one line was definitely snorted. It had to be pretty concentrated or else he already had a ton of other stuff in him,” she answered, rocking on her heels as she thought.

“Well, it sounds like we need someone who knows how to get a hold of something like that,” I answered, crossing my arms.

“Hey, don’t look at me. I never used it, I’ve just been at parties. What about you?” she asked.

“I might know someone. Be prepared to buy some expensive, hot coffee, he hates meeting in the cold.”

Tips and Tricks, writing

Ten Tools To Help You Write the Next Bestseller

Every writer wants to write the next bestseller but many lack the tools beyond natural talent. Here are the top ten items I’d recommend to help you create a work of art.

 

  1. A lamp to help your eyes

You most likely spend a large amount of time staring at a computer screen. Take care of your eyes and use a lamp that helps your eyes and makes you feel like you’re in the sunshine. It’ll boost productivity if you’re not fighting a headache from eye strain. This lamp has seven brightness levels, five color modes, and is adjustable so you can make it work exactly how you need it.

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  1. A notebook designed for handling the weather

This notebook is perfect when you are ready to explore and research the nitty gritty, but don’t want nature to destroy your notes. It’s waterproof, resistant to tears, flexible, and dependable. Never worry about losing your story again.

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  1. A planner to help you be a great writer but also to help you be a good human

My Brilliant Writing Planner wants you to be a phenomenal writer, but also a phenomenal person. It pairs a regular planner, a writing notebook (full of storyboards, habit trackers, and other useful tools), and a personal tracker (which helps you keep track of career goals, life activities, your spiritual life, and reflections).

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  1. A character development journal

The journal will help you plot out a truly fleshed out character. Starting off with basic personal characteristics, it pushes deeper, providing prompts and ideas to create a well-rounded and deeply rooted character.

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  1. Pens that are classic and stylish

I know, you may spend all your time typing on a keyboard, but picking one of these up will make you feel like you’ve been turned into one of the great authors of old. Plus, they’re stylish and make your desk look great.

Chris-Wang 5Pcs Creative Lovely Artificial Feather Gel Ink Pens Office Supplies Students Staionery, Black Ink, Fine Point 0.5mm

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  1. Headphones to keep the noise out and the fun going

As a writer, I tend to spend a lot of time listening to music and one of the worst feelings is jumping up for a cup of coffee and forgetting I’m tethered to my computer. These wireless headphones will block out sound so you can write in a busy coffee shop and still have the mobility to move about your home or office without worrying.

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  1. A water bottle to stay hydrated and read great quotes

Keeping your body running well is important if you plan to pump out a novel. Staying hydrated will make you feel better, prevent headaches, and make your body work like it’s supposed to. It can be way too easy to forget to drink water, especially if you’re dehydrating yourself with coffee or other caffeinated products. Try this water bottle out which you’ll have a blast trying to read your favorite, redacted stories and will keep you in tip-top shape.

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  1. An Emotional Wound Thesaurus to make your characters come to life

One of the most important parts of any story is the emotional experiences behind it. But if you don’t hold a degree in psychology or have gone through something personally, often times that emotional trauma can feel unrealistic or stereotyped when written out. This thesaurus gives you a crash course in the most common emotional wounds and helps you write them accurately. Readers will be able to connect much more deeply to characters that feel real and relatable.

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  1. First Lines of Literature Mug

Whether you are a tea, coffee, or hot chocolate drinker, a mug with the first lines of some of the greatest novels of all time will help kick that writer’s block and inspire you to make your own bestseller.

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  1. Writer’s Market

This is one of the most important tools in a writer’s kit. The Writer’s Market gives you a detailed description of publishing presses, magazines, and literary agents. Each entry provides pricing, what they publish, how to reach out to them (with contact information in some cases), the best way and time to send in your manuscripts, and a short description about them. This will save you an exponential amount of time in your publishing process. On top of that, Writer’s Market has a list of writing contests as well as a section on how to write a query letter and reach out to companies. Whether you are a first-time author or a well-seasoned novelist, this book is gold.

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I hope you love the products I list here! Just so you know, I may collect a share of sales or other compensation from the links on this page. Enjoy!

Sunday Story Segment, writing

Asena Chapter 6: The Pembrook Ruby

I wasn’t sure if I had seen a grown man throw a bigger fit than the one Marlene’s security guard threw, but I was definitely happy to be inside The Carson and away from his white-hot glare. Marlene seemed absolutely thrilled and I felt the eyes drawn to us as she flounced through the ornate lobby. The carpet was a deep red with a black criss-cross pattern. Numerous couches were scattered throughout, paired with mahogany tables. On the far side of the room was a large fireplace with a crackling fire that sent a gorgeous glow into the room. The elevators were to the right of the long, dark front desk with engraved gold plaques marking each person. I walked up to the one marked ‘Current Guests’.

“Hi,” I said, smiling at the young, slightly pimply man. His hair was greasy and slicked backed but his black coat and red button up made him look a little more professional.

“Hello,” he responded, his eyes flicking toward Marlene.

“James,” I said and his eyes focused back to me. His name badge stuck out on his chest but people always tended to be surprised when you used their name. “I really need your help. My cousin and I think my brother is in some trouble. He took some money from her dad and disappeared. We really don’t want to get the police involved so is there any way you could just tell us what room he’s in so we can just talk to him?”

He looked skeptical, though the mention of police had wrinkled his forehead.

Marlene leaned forward.

“I would be really grateful,” she said, batting her eyelashes. She put her hand over his and he glanced down and then around the area. No one else was paying us much attention except for a few college aged guys staring at Marlene near the check-in desk.

She pulled her hand back to her side of the counter, and I saw a green bill sticking up between his clenched fingers. He quickly slipped his hand off the counter and into his pocket, his eyes darting to every other employee and then up towards a security camera by the elevator.

“What’s his name?” he asked in a hurried whisper, leaning over his keyboard.

“Francis,” I said. I hoped he hadn’t been smart enough to give a fake name.

“His last name?” he asked, annoyed.

“His last name is Matthews but I think he’s using something else. I called earlier and no one is going by that,” I lied smoothly. Marlene glanced at me, her mouth quirked to the side. She probably thought I was holding out information on her rather than making it up on the fly and I tried to smile encouragingly at her.

“There’s two Francis’s here,” he said and scrawled the names and room numbers onto a sheet of paper that he slid over to us as if this was a high stakes deal.

“Thanks, James,” I said and pocketed it casually as if all he did was give us a restaurant recommendation. Marlene was bouncing again, rocking on the balls of her feet with a big smile.

“You wouldn’t happen to want to give us the keys, would you?” she asked, a green bill poking between her fingers again.

His eyes widened and I recognized the deer in headlights look.

“Nevermind,” I said sweetly and looped my arm through Marlene’s, yanking her away.

“Hey,” she said, stumbling over her own feet. “He might have caved.”

“He might have called security. You’ve got to learn how to push people. Money can only get you so far before self-preservation kicks in.” I steered her to the elevator and pressed the up button. She wasn’t content waiting though and strained against my arm, leaning over to look at the other people in the area. She smiled and gave a small wave to the boys still watching us.

“Lighten up, Asena,” she said as the elevator doors opened and an older man squeezed past us into the lobby.

I dropped her arm as the doors closed and pressed the button for the fourth floor.

“I’m plenty light. You need to get a bit more serious.” I had been impressed by the show in my office, but as the elevator rose so did my feeling that bringing her was a terrible idea.

“I know being a private investigator is this big serious job and all, but c’mon, when’s the last time you let loose?” I stared at the numbers as they counted up, ignoring her.

“When’s the last time you had a day off?”

I bit my lip and groaned as her eyes widened.

“You’re a workaholic,” she said matter-of-factly.

“No,” I retorted as the elevator dinged and the doors opened. “I own a new business, it takes a lot of time and effort.” I stepped out on the landing and glanced down the hallway both ways. I was looking for Room 401 and the sign to my left listed it.

I took long strides down the richly carpeted hallway, happy to put even a small bit of distance between us. This place was nice, with dark trim and honey gold walls. I couldn’t afford a night in this place, let alone a week, which was about how long Francis had been hiding out here.

“Workaholic,” she said in a sing-song voice, following after me.

“Quiet,” I snapped as we loomed in front of Francis’ door. I wasn’t sure exactly of my plan. Danny had told me he was short, skinny, and had a bunch of messy black hair. I was hoping that the wrong Francis was built like a wrestler, with bright blonde hair, and someone I could make giraffe jokes about. Otherwise this could be awkward.

I knocked, listening for movement within. Marlene was back to bouncing on the balls of her feet and I wanted to make her sit still, but I was too jittery myself. I had done this kind of thing before. In fact, it was pretty commonplace. But I didn’t usually have a jumping bean civilian next to me, in the possible line of fire, who also happened to be my client.

This was a terrible idea.

“Why isn’t he answering?” Marlene whispered. “Should we say housekeeping or something?”

“We’re not in some bad cop film,” I retorted, knocking again. I was hoping he would be home at midday, since he seemed to like to frequent the bars at night.

“Maybe we should go check the other guy out?” she suggested.

“Maybe,” I answered with a frown. My gut was telling me to stay here, but I had no clue how to get in. I glared at the card reader. Fifteen years ago, my nimble little child’s fingers could have picked this lock in seconds but everything was electronic now. It made my line of work so much more difficult.

“Asena, do you know something I don’t? You obviously held out on his last name, is there something else you’re not telling me?” She leaned against the door, a pout on her lips, and it swung forward. She barreled into the room, catching herself on the edge of the hallway table.

I followed her in quickly, noting the tape that was over the handle, allowing it to be opened and shut without the key. The door was heavy enough not to open easily, but Marlene’s bony frame had enough weight apparently.

“Get back here,” I said, trying to steady her. She was still tripping over her own feet with red hair spilling everywhere while I scanned the room to make sure we were safe.

It was a gorgeous room, with modern furniture, a whole wall of windows looking out on the city, and even a fireplace, though no fire was lit. It’s beauty made the fact that it was completely trashed even more jarring. It was littered with old take out containers, dirty clothes, and garbage everywhere.

“What a pig,” Marlene said, straightening up and looking around. I motioned frantically for her to be quiet. We certainly didn’t want our thief finding us in the middle of his room.

I dug my toes into the carpet, taking a few steps forward with my ears strained. Marlene was right behind me. I swiveled around, my head whipping back and forth. No way was she coming into the lion’s den.

Her mouth was set in a firm line as she stared me down. I pointed out the open door and she crossed her arms, shaking her head. I whipped back around, making sure nothing had moved and no one had popped out of any of the closed doors before turning back.

Wait for me, I mouthed, trying to scooch her out the door. She dug her heels in and I raised my eyebrows.

The click of a door opening down the hall made my mind up though and I let her step past me and silently closed the door. I couldn’t afford to have neighbors questioning what we were doing or worse, raising an alarm. I stuck a finger to my lips and tried once more to tell her to stay put in the front entry.

She strode forward and I groaned inwardly. I jumped in front of her, watching my step and landing on the balls of my feet. Thankfully the carpet was thick and Marlene walked with a grace I hadn’t yet seen before.

I scanned the living room, peeking behind the couch and doing my best to not step on any of the garbage strewn everywhere. When I was sure no one was there, I tiptoed over to what I guessed was the bathroom door.

I twisted the handle slowly and silently. Marlene mimed checking her watch and rolled her eyes at me. I ducked down. A lesson I had learned when I first started breaking into places was that you should always peek around a corner or door from a lower vantage point. Most people expect someone coming from higher above.

It might be the bathroom, but I was pretty sure it was the same size as my apartment. A large Jacuzzi tub took up a whole section in the back. A walk-in waterfall shower stood next to it, red tiles encasing the whole thing except for a ring of Caribbean blue ones near the top.

Towels and dirty clothes were heaped in a pile next to the counter. The hotel-provided shampoo bottles were oozing onto the floor. I couldn’t believe someone this sloppy had pulled off a job like the Pembrook jewel heist.

Marlene sniffed in disgust and I clamped my hands together so I didn’t stick one over her mouth. She shrugged in apology and backed out.

I shut the door, taking care not to make any noise. It seemed I was too slow for Marlene though and before I had a chance to even put a hand out, she had pushed open the bedroom door and strode in. I lunged towards her, hoping to put myself between her and anyone inside. She gasped and I searched for the threat, hands up.

No one was charging me, no one was standing surprised, and no one was in the bed. I calmed a bit, lowering my hands now that I was sure there was no immediate danger.

I looked back at Marlene, who was looking a bit pale and still had her hand clamped over her mouth. I followed her panic-stricken eyes and saw him. Francis was laying on the ground next to the four poster bed, only his shoulders and head visible. His eyes were wide-open, glazed over. He was pale, which made the spittle coming from the side of his mouth almost impossible to see. But he was unmistakably dead.

Marlene didn’t seem to be able to tear her eyes away from the body but she had lowered her hand a bit. She took a hesitant step forward and I snagged her forearm, stopping her. Something seemed to snap when I touched her and she tore her gaze from the gruesome sight. Her eyes began to rove around the room. She took in the large bed, wardrobe, and dresser, but landed on the desk only feet from her. Everything was a mess in here as well, trash and dirty clothes mixed together. But this desk was a different kind of mess. The Pembrook family jewels were scattered on the table, along with a bit of cash and a black bag I was guessing it had all been shoved in at one point.

“We should call the police,” I said, letting go of her arm.

Feeling the freedom, she darted forward, snagging the ruby locket in the middle of the pile. “Marlene,” I hissed. Her fingerprints would already be on all those jewels, but she was interfering with a crime scene. Not that I had too many qualms about it except that if anyone should interfere, it should be me. I was a professional.

She swung the locket on her pointer finger, scrutinizing at it as if verifying it was real.

“Now we can call the police,” she said, slipping it into her pocket.