Category Archives: Flash Fiction Contests

Love Bites 2016 – The Winners

Love Bites 2016 – Arctic Chill

As one of the hosts for Love Bites 2016, my entry is inadmissible but I’m still compelled to write about the chill of betrayal:

Arctic Chill

He shivered, violently, but the chill still seeped through every pore. Her voice tickled his ear and he tried to open his eyes, but his eyeballs wouldn’t keep still and his eyelids failed to listen. Her soft, smooth tones swam through his head and for a moment he was content to drown amid their cadence, and her undulating words held no sense. If he were to drown it would be preferable to the hell he shook within.

As his freezing body shuddered again, her fingers grazed his hairy cheek, stroking the crystalline frost from his beard. His eyes still refused to open and her cheek suddenly rested against his temple, her hair draped across his forehead, her lips touched his, but it barely ignited his senses. Arms snaked about his shoulders and she slipped down against him, uttering nonsensical words that slowly began to pierce his brain.

“Wake up…” the words reeled and lurched and stumbled, but had no meaning. Her voice swathed his consciousness like melted chocolate smothering a truffle. Chocolate leached through his mind, flashing up a vague memory of exotic pralines and dark lips – and the kisses that followed as sultry as the chocolates themselves… Those kisses now moved across his face, and touched lightly on his errant eyelids as he struggled to open them.

Body warmth surged as she straddled him sinking down into his lap, but frostbite curtailed any desire that quivered. His body trembled beneath her fingers and he finally looked into her eyes. His body tingled and convulsed and his eyes rolled, but he caught her gaze and it sent shivers of ice down his spine like quarry bolting from a rat. The warmth that teased his body radiated from her fingers, her arms, her legs and her body, but her eyes shone like an arctic ice-flow, blue and cold and frozen.

Deep within his recollection she evoked a stirring of love, an emotion now so void of worth, his brain couldn’t comprehend the feelings that fell like soft rain in his head. Memories surfaced, like drug-induced hallucinations and her velvet voice caressed his mind as soft as fresh snowflakes. Memories flooded his confusion, but he remembered her coy glance across the dancefloor, his arms pulling her into a tight embrace, her kisses, and her pleasure. He saw halcyon days beneath sun-drenched skies, beneath umbrellas and beneath the sheets. He saw devotion and love and – betrayal. His body recoiled at the memory. It was no longer her dark hair, her dark lips, her tropical beauty, but pale skin and fair hair that draped over his body beneath the bed-sheets.

He recalled her ice-chip eyes as they bore holes in the crisp white sheets as he lie beneath the blonde. Pain and guilt mingled in the frigid air amid the pleasure that writhed upon him. And his lover’s moan of disappointment before she fell across him amongst shattered glass and ruby beads of blood.

Now he sat, naked, chained and exposed in every way possible in a shed on a mountainside, and her eyes stared with cold indifference.

“You remember?” She kissed his ear and it stung with frostbite and shame.

He couldn’t respond; his body was too far gone to elicit any reply. The sores on his wrists from the chains seeped pus and black ichor, and his brain felt the same. She gently lifted herself from him and blew a kiss, then winter’s wind whipped around the barn and his heart shuddered as the bolt clanged back into place.

Memories faded along with his cohesion, and as she sat at another man’s table, and slept in another man’s bed, he faded from existence entirely.

(612 Words)

Today is our closing day…so you have a few more hours to get your entry in…go write about love gone wrong…and link up with the other fantastic entries!

And if you loved this here are my previous year’s Love Bites pieces: 2013: Pillow Talk and 2014: No More.

And one of my fellow hosts’ piece: Ruth Long – Loveline and Fisticuffs.

Love Bites 2016 – Anti-Valentine Story Contest

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I’m teaming up with Ruth, Laura, Lizzie and Cara at Ink After Dark to offer you
Love Bites 2016…
Our Anti-Valentine blog hop, back for a new year!

You know you want to join in…
Open from January 29th – February 12th 2016
So hop over and leave your stories in the comments section of
Ink After Dark’s Love Bites Post (NOT this post).

Flash Fiction Challenge
Theme: Thwarted Love OR Vengeful Love
Submissions Accepted: January 29 – February 12, 2016
Word Count: 500 Word Minimum / 750 Word Maximum
Prize Package Announced: February 5, 2016
Winners Announced: February 15, 2016
Post stories in comment box on Ink After Dark’s Love Bites Post with word count and Twitter handle (or other way to notify you of victory).

If you want some inspiration…take a look at our previous years stories… 2013 and 2014.

Dark Fairy Queen – Midsummer Night’s Dream Contest: An Eye for an Eye

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fairy, fairy dreams, the last krystallos,

An Eye for an Eye

Ariana released a soft sound of surprise that echoed slightly in the low evening light as her mother’s guiding hand scribed urgent words on her palm.

Though sightless and deaf, Ariana felt her mother move away and she instinctively pressed her toes into the grass. Drops of dew, decorating her bare feet with diamonds, reverberated, and micro echoes vibrated across her skin. She stretched her fingers through the echo of her mother and let the jasmine scented air whisper. She wondered what her mother’s urgently etched words on her palm meant.

Then the wind blew through her and whipped up a storm, and an unpractised murmur left her silent lips as the tornado whirled about her.

The wind spoke with an unintelligible moan, but she heard it – and then whispers, soft whispers susurrated in the arcs of light that suddenly filled her vision. She opened eyes that hadn’t opened in years, and light fluttered like a new-born butterfly.

With wonder she heard the whispers uttered by her own mouth. Delight filled her heart, swelling within her bosom, and she knew her days of night and lengthy silences were finally gone.

Mother had promised that one day she’d both see and hear, and now she could…

She blinked, and gazed upwards, letting the soft crimson sun tickle her face, and its familiar warmth sent shivers of delight down her spine, and twilight’s tears rested like raindrops on her cheeks. Her eyes began to focus, and the yielding sounds of dusk filtered through her mind, and she twirled, enjoying the senses that now filled her soul!

Her mother stood, facing the sunset, her back to Ariana, and Ariana gently stepped closer, relishing the green blades of grass between her toes and the vivid colours that now flooded her life. She brimmed with gratitude for whatever spell her mother had cast, and threw her arms around the woman before her.

Her mother’s unexpected flinch sent a spike of ice through her heart and she spun her mother round. Sightless eyes returned her stare as the sun slipped away, flushing Ariana’s new world into unknown indigo and gold. Words could still not yet form in Ariana’s mouth, but understanding grew, and she knew her mother had traded, an eye for an eye.

Tables turned, and through tears that twinkled like glittering stars her mother blindly felt for Ariana’s guiding hand.

* * *

My entry (396 Words) into our Dark Fairy Queen’s New Contest…

Details:
It is summer, a faint breeze blows, and the leaves are rustling. As dusk falls, the fireflies glow in a distant meadow. Have you not felt the magic of a summer night?
Your story should let us celebrate a midsummer night by creating 400 words.
For your theme, your story must take place, at least in part, on a summer evening. Also, choose one from the following list:
Dreams – Fairytales – Myths
Your story should be posted on your personal blog or a friend’s and linked up below with the Inlinkz tool (which opens July 15).

Please click the link below and read the other enchanting entries!

Zombie Apocalypse: Tunnel Vision

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A chill breeze swept through the sewers, a relief from the heat and stench of the city above. Bodily fluids of all kinds ebbed gently through the labyrinth of tunnels, but the reek of stagnant water was preferable to the decay and decomposition of bodies above. The sewers were free, free from their original use with the loss of humanity, and free from the roaming, moaning bodies that feverishly sought the few survivors.

Helena shivered as her legs wobbled. She slid down the damp, dark wall, her fingers raking through her matted hair, and for the first time in two weeks she allowed tears to drip onto her grubby vest. Her feet dangled in shallow, murky water and she thumped her head with the base of her palm as the things she’d seen raced through her mind. She grabbed a fistful of hair and let out a clear, uncontrolled wail.

She keened, rocking on the edge of the rill, hitting her head against the wall until sticky, warm blood coated her hair.

Her mind blinked as she recalled moments of horror, but she failed to notice the whir above the whistle of the wind or the tiny, flashing green light peering out of the dark tunnel. Footsteps splashing through the water saw her leap to her feet in terror and run on loose legs, tripping and tumbling into the foetid water. For a moment she wondered if drowning was the better choice.

“It’s okay!” The voice startled Helena. The voice had cohesion, it uttered words, real words, and Helena lifted her head.

Two bodies hurried towards her and she scrabbled backwards in panic. When she realised the bodies neither ambled nor dragged, but headed direct and fast, she allowed herself to wait. Strong arms scooped her up and words, blessed words, accompanied the arms that cocooned her. She blacked out.

As the haze cleared, and her heavy eyelids opened, blue eyes stared back. “I wasn’t sure you’d wake up!” he said.

Having been alone for so long, Helena couldn’t form a single word, let alone a sentence. She gazed at her hand, at the crude drip set up and hanging from a rusty hook on the wall. Her rescuer lifted a torn curtain and her eyes trailed the room. It was huge, concrete and lit by dull fluorescent strips. People, equipment and supplies filled every corner.

“It’s okay,” he said. “You’re safe. Saw you on the video feed. Didn’t think we’d get to you in time!” He indicated a timer on the wall. Huge red, digital numbers rolled into single figures. “A few hours later and we’d never have got you all the way down here…and safe! You’re the last one from above, the last one ever!” he said.

A soft boom echoed, and dust fell from the ceiling. He squeezed her hand. “The President just hit the button – our last resort. Welcome to Armagedddon.”

(485 Words)

Written for J. Whitworth Hazzard’s Zombie Apocalypse Flash Fiction Contest. Go take a look at the other stunning entries…and add yours if you’ve time!

If you like this you need to read Dead Sea Games by J. Whitworth Hazzard.

Like my story? Kickstart the zombie apocalypse by publishing Dead Sea Games.

Want to write like me? Personal coaching and critiquing by Miranda Kate.

My Creative Process – The Grand Blog Tour

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Thanks go to Nettie Thomson for nominating me for this Blog Tour…I got asked when it was named My Writing Process, but I was too busy to take part, so this second chance is much appreciated! Go take a look at Nettie’s answers here, then see what I’m doing…

Writing © Lisa Shambrook

What are you working on?

Right now I’m editing ‘Beneath the Old Oak’ and I’m very appreciative of beta readers! Sometimes you can be too close to your story and your writing and only someone else can catch the little things – or maybe the big things…

‘Beneath the Old Oak’ is the sequel to my debut novel ‘Beneath the Rainbow’ and continues seven years later following Meg, Freya’s best friend. Meg is now fourteen and her life is in turmoil. This story is close to my heart. They say write what you know – many of both Meg’s and her mother’s problems are things I’ve fought and done myself. Depression and anxiety affect entire families, not just the sufferers, and it’s a subject I’ve enjoyed tackling. Those who know my writing will appreciate a tough subject, but dealt with in an uplifting way.

The tentative blurb for ‘Beneath the Old Oak’ is:

‘Meg’s mother is anxious, depressed and neglectful. Meg thinks her mum is broken and wonders if she’ll be next, or is she already broken too? Meg wants to escape, but her mum beats her to it. Solace is found in a huge, old oak tree and Meg begins to learn to grow…’

Prior to resuming my editing, I’ve been writing flash fiction and enjoying submitting to contests and anthologies: Audiomachine’s Phenomena: Epic Heroes Event, The Anthology Club’s Pirate Anthology, Dirty Goggles 2014 and J.A.Mes Press Rebirth Anthology to name a few, along with traditional flash challenges like Blues Buster and Five Sentence Fiction.

World Book Day © Lisa Shambrook

How does your work differ from others of its genre?

I write eclectic flash fiction and enjoy experimenting with genres!

‘Beneath the Rainbow’ is placed in contemporary fiction, but it’s been enjoyed by everyone from 9 to 99 years old. ‘Beneath the Old Oak’ will hit the market as YA contemporary fiction.

How does my work differ? My writing definitely has its own voice, vibrant, lyrical and emotional. I work with the senses, description and colour, and my imagery stands out. If you really want to ‘feel’ what you read, try mine…

Why do you write/create what you do?

I write because it’s an urge I cannot deny. I’d go mad if I couldn’t lay down my thoughts on paper! I’m a creative soul, I need an outlet and it takes whatever forms my inspiration demand, from art to short stories, scrapbooking to photography, and craft to novels…

Notebooks everywhere © Lisa Shambrook

How does your writing/creative process work?

My heart is in control of my process, and I often have to rein it in, or nothing would get done!

I keep my inspirations jotted down, but generally only work on one big project at a time. Right now I will finish and release ‘Beneath the Old Oak’, and then work on the final book ‘Beneath the Distant Star’ which waits in its first draft form.

After that…who knows? I have a lovely children’s dragon adventure trilogy, and an epic dragon fantasy in the works…

I’m a planner. NaNoWriMo taught me discipline and that I need to plan! I pretty much work out a novel with a chapter-by-chapter plan, which will then spawn scenes and then writing. I also keep scrupulous notebooks of information eg: chronology, dates and times of sunsets/rises, flowers in season, character info, eye colour…it’s so easy to switch eye colour half way through a book, or a car model…been there!

My heart will determine my next work…

Flowers_Fairywings_Wood_Anemone_Last_Krystallos

Fairywings Anemone © Lisa Shambrook

What I love about this Blog Tour is all creatives are catered for…and you need to look out for the following on the 26^th when they take the baton for this tour:

Amanda Makepeace: www.amandamakepeace.com Her art is not to be missed!

Ruth Long: www.ruth-long.com Her words just blow me away!

Bekah Shambrook: www.bekahcat.wordpress.com If you want scary zombie make up, she’s your girl!

Website © Lisa Shambrook

You can also check out my website: www.lisashambrook.com

And find ‘Beneath the Rainbow’ on Amazon UK and Amazon US.

Dirty Goggles: His Little Bumblebee

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This is for the Dirty Goggles Bloghop 2014 put together by Jenn, Ruth and Steven…I’m jumping straight in with my steampunk story and my little steampunk bumblebee!

Title: His Little Bumblebee
Word Count: 797 Words
Name: Lisa Shambrook @LastKrystallos
Category: Steampunk

Bumblebee_close_Last_Krystallos_Dirty_Goggles_2014

His Little Bumblebee

Professor Mordecai called Ottavia his little bumblebee because her heart hummed. I think he loved her more because her flaw made her real. I love her because her heart sings.

My heart runs as smooth as clockwork, because that’s just what it is, ticking quietly, flawlessly. Every brass nut and bolt, every piston and gear move in perfect unison. Her flaws led to my perfection.

***

Ottavia stared down at our creator’s limp body, her fingers clasping his hand, and my heart fluttered like the professor’s glass-winged dragonflies darting about the gloomy study. Her shoulders slumped and I recalled his last words as I hurried to her side.

“His heart gave out!” I hissed, “I have to get you away before the Regent claims you!”

She ignored me, burying her face in his dusty and worn brocade robes. I had no intention of ever letting the Regent anywhere near enough to listen to the hum of her heart, or even to touch the wiry golden curls that fell around her face. “We have to leave!”

Her hand leaped to her breast and her eyes glistened in the gas-light. “I can’t, not without my key!”

She lifted the ribbon that hung around her neck and its frayed empty ends whispered in the breeze.

A terrible sound echoed down the vast university corridors as the gas-lamps flickered. My heart pounded as I listened to the clickety-clack of a thousand wings. “There’s no time!” I muttered, grabbing her arm.

“I need my key!” she protested, digging into the professor’s pockets.

A horde of mechanical mosquitoes struck the ancient oak door like metal woodpeckers. I peered through the keyhole as wood splintered. “I need to get you to Professor Greenfire, before they destroy the door!” I desperately combed the room as Ottavia scurried about searching for her key. I yanked open the lid of an intricately decorated box revealing a pulsating mass of gold and steel bumblebees. Wings whirred into action as I released them. The tiny bees swarmed through the keyhole and sped into the fray of long legs and tin wings. Sparks flew and metal clattered.

“I’m not even going to make it out of here…” She dropped to the floor with a clatter.

I watched the curve of her breast rise and fall as she stared up at me. I could hear it, the heavy thump, the easing of pistons, the wisps of steam curling from her ribcage beneath her bodice, her mechanism slowing, running down. “I need my key!”

Acrid smoke spiralled through the keyhole as the clangs and clashes of metal echoed. “And there’s no way out up here anyway!” she cried, staring up at me through sparkling topaz eyes.

I whipped her cloak away from her shoulders. “There’s always a way,” I murmured, brushing my fingers over the delicate wire-framed wings protruding from her shoulder joints. I flung open the window. “I sent dragonflies ahead and Greenfire will meet you down by the forest.”

Her brass curls bounced as she shook her head. Her breaths shuddered and jerked as her cogs and gears slowed down.

I tore my key from the string around my neck and thrust it at her.

“It won’t fit!” she smiled. “And even if it did, you can’t live without it.” Her limbs shuddered and her eyes dulled, and desperation echoed inside my clockwork heart.

Our keys didn’t match, but sometimes, as Professor Mordecai once told me, magic happens when love exists. As her breaths faltered and her frame jerked, I untied her corset ribbons and reached up beneath her stays. Her ribs juddered and her heart stopped singing.

My shaking fingers located the keyhole beneath her breast-work but my key wouldn’t fit. I jiggled it delicately, and as my heart began to fail, it slotted right in! I wound it, listening to the barrel click, and watched a pale light fill her eyes once more.

I tied my key to her ribbon.

Her fingers trembled and jolted as they curled around mine and her cut glass eyes shimmered with tears that could not fall.

“Now go…” I listened to the whirring buzz of mechanised insects outside the disintegrating door.

She touched a lever at her waist. Her wings vibrated and her heart sang as she stood upon the windowsill. Morning rays glimmered against her fragmented glass wings, and they fluttered gently as tiny pistons pounded, flywheels spun and gears shifted. Ottavia dived from the window and I leaned across the frame.

She plummeted and my heart slipped into my mouth, and then she swooped and her wings bore her away, away to safety. I smiled as she disappeared behind cotton-wool clouds and automated bugs broke through the door. I still had enough fight left, enough to save my precious bumblebee.

Bumblebee_Last_Krystallos_Dirty_Goggles_2014

Phenomena: The Shimmering Star

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Create an original superhero with an extraordinary tale…is the brief for Samantha Geary and Audiomachine‘s Epic Hero Event: Phenomena.

The story is inspired by Audiomachine’s ‘Fortress of Solitude’ which will be available on their new album ‘Phenomena’ released on May 6th 2014.

To enhance your enjoyment of my story please listen to the track while you read…

The Shimmering Star*

Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (Please do not use without permission)

(1151 Words)

*Author’s Note:

This story has been removed as I have reworked it for a story included in A Symphony of Dragons. I loved this story so much and knew I wanted to work on it. It has entwined with my wip (work in progress) which will become The Seren Stone Chronicles…

You can read the brand new version of this story The Legend of the Seren Stone within A Symphony of Dragons. You can find this enchanting book of short stories in many outlets in both paperback and eBook or at my publisher BHC Press.

(However you can still find and read the original version in the comments on Samantha Geary’s Epic Hero Event: Phenomena.)