Tag Archives: love

Tree of Life: Chimera: Selkie Vow

This is for Samantha Redstreake Geary‘s latest Audiomachine ‘Tree of Life’ promotion writerly contest. Choose your favourite ‘Tree of Life’ track and write up to 150 words…
My favourite tracks are ‘Rebirth’, ‘Homecoming’ and ‘Day One’…and track #10 ‘Homecoming’ fit this story perfectly.

Photograph by Lisa Shambrook, Streamzoo and Pixlromatic
(Please do not use without permission)

Selkie Vow

She flicked her tail and gazed across the foaming crests, huge black eyes rested on two silhouettes on the beach. Her heart pounded within her ribcage and as the sun began to drop she allowed its warm rays to caress her glistening skin as water lapped against her rock.

She slid into the water, swimming with ease against the outgoing tide. Seals bobbed in acquiescence as she slipped through the rippling waves.

Reaching the shore, she rested and flipped her tail, splashing one last time. Sun bathed her body as she stepped out of her pelt. A smile painted her lips as she ran a finger down the white lace draping the rock.  Silk clung to her form as she crossed the sand. Before the priest, she turned to her love offering both a smile, as radiant as the evening sun, and her treasured pelt.
And there two destinies entwined.

(150 Words excluding title)

 For further insight to this story, please read ‘Stay’ …

Blues Buster: Stay

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


He let his fingers drag across her shoulder, drawing lazy circles over her silky skin. He shivered, goose bumps erupting as the cool breeze danced across the beach, and he held her close.
She moved her head to gaze into his dark eyes, and her lips curled into a smile as she pulled his arms tighter across her breast. Her lips parted and she licked them, and the salty taste of desire flared within his soul. She shifted slightly, leaning into the crook of his arm and back against his bare chest. Her hair tickled his chin and emotions rose within his belly; desire tinged with yearning and a splash of regret.
He closed his eyes, emptying his mind of sorrow and pain. Seagulls rose and fell on the currents and cawed at the water spread before them, and he knew time was running out. The moon had faded into the sapphire sky many hours ago and dawn peeped over the horizon, a sliver of pink against the black ocean.
She sighed, a tiny, contented sound, and he wrapped his arms around her. His eyes flickered open and he rested his chin upon her head, and felt her body relax between his thighs. His chest shuddered as emotion overwhelmed him and his embrace tightened as if he’d never let her go. She stroked his forearm, leaning forward to kiss the upstanding hairs on his arm, her breath mingling with the cool, salty air.
Salmon pink infused the sky, painting the underside of heavy, drifting clouds. Moments later, fat drops of rain fell and he felt her change. Electricity surged and he buried his face trying to delay the inevitable. He could barely hold himself together and left a dozen kisses in her silky tresses. Horizon’s pink blush deepened, as did the ache that penetrated his entire being. She shifted again, her body waking and stretching, and he slowly released her.
She wriggled away and turned to kneel against him. Her arms embraced his slick shoulders, her wet cheek pressed against his face, her lips sought his, and the rain fell in a shower of kisses.
They broke apart, and she cupped his face in her hands and whispered words of love. He kissed her back, his lips melting against hers and his tongue teasing the fire that blazed, but she pulled away, slowly, leaning back on her heels and stood.
He stared at her silhouette, black against the rising morn, and his heart burst with love.
“Stay…” he whispered, barely audible above the wild horses of the ocean.
She shook her head and waited. The fiery clouds wandered and he sucked in a deep breath. Her gaze never left his face as she smiled in the rain and waited, patiently, and then he reached behind him and drew a silky fur across his legs. He stroked it gently, and dawn’s light shimmered across the glistening pelt, as he rested it across his arm and rose, taking her hand.
Down at the ocean’s edge, he wrapped the skin around her shoulders and held her close, kissing her with everything he had. She turned in his arms and reclaimed her pelt, shimmying skilfully into it, and then she dropped away and returned to the sea.
If she stayed, if she ever stayed, it would be her choice…and, for now, he let the ocean swallow his heart.

(564 Words)

Written for Jeff’s Blues Buster at The Tsuruoka Files. I listened to the song ‘Stay’ by Hurts and loved it…so had to write!

This story is dedicated to Sophie Moss…for obvious reasons! And to Miranda (Purple Queen) because she loves Hurts! x

Five Sentence Fiction: Learning

Photograph (pencil sketch of Cait) by Lisa Shambrook (please do not use)
Tears filled her eyes, unbidden, as she gazed at a pastel portrait of herself. A five or six-year-old child gazed back at her, with wide chocolate-brown eyes and messy, light-brown hair framing delicate childish features. Her mum had pencilled in a halo of daisies threaded through her hair and coloured them with pastels. The innocent beauty on the page entranced her and broke her, it was the first time she’d ever seen herself through the eyes of another. It was more beautiful than any photograph she’d seen, and more delicate than any mirror image she could ever remember.
It’s been a while since I last did a Five Sentence Fiction and I miss it! 
Check out all the other amazing pieces…

For the love of our Furry Friends…

A post by Laura Zera this morning, along with a status posted by Jo Cannon: “In psychiatry, whenever we see a depressed patient, we always do a ‘risk assessment’, to determine the likelihood of that person committing suicide. As part of that assessment, we ask the patient what stops them from taking their own life. And do you know what they answer? Do you know what I hear, again and again and again? MY DOG. When I ask people what stops them from committing suicide, they always say: I COULD NEVER LEAVE MY DOG. Oh my GOODNESS how people under-estimate the power of that relationship! Dogs protect property and gardens and buildings, but they also protect people. And so often they are literally the difference between being here and not being here. So God help the next person who tells me it’s “just a dog”. Dogs save lives. We just don’t appreciate quite how many.”  reminded me how important our pets are…so I thought I’d tell you about mine.
Rusty (please do not use)
We rescued Rusty from beneath a garden shed, when he was five months old. He was skinny and scrawny and full of fleas and worms, and his pads were scraped and raw. The vet said he wouldn’t have made it past another week or so. 
Rusty became my shadow, followed me everywhere, sat beside me and loved me unconditionally. 
He only had half a tail, and was the clumsiest creature I’ve ever known, but I adored him. We lost him when he was twelve years old due to kidney failure, but he was my constant companion for those years! 
Misty and Raven (please do not use)
We only meant to pick up one cat from the farm – but the owner (who was over-run with felines) placed a tiny black kitten in my daughter’s hand, after I’d chosen the sole grey kitten, and there was no question we’d be going home with two! 
These two are sisters, but live in tolerance – eating from separate bowls, sleeping on separate beds and hissing every time they pass each other…don’t know why! Misty is cute, cuddly and chatty, she loves eating and sleeping (all day), while Raven prefers stalking, hunting and adventure out in the wilds. opposites in every way!
Raven and Misty (please do not use)
Roxy (and Dan) (please do not use)
Hubby was brought up with a dog, and asked for a dog (and a motorbike) constantly – he now has both! Roxy became ours at eight weeks, and was my first experience of owning a dog. I was not a fan of canines, always referring to myself as a cat person, but after a couple of weeks reservation I became a fully-fledged dog person and fell head-over-heels for Roxy!
Roxy (please do not use)
She became my companion and I experienced the devotion and complete love of a puppy as she grew up. We laughed at her enormous ears and neurosis, enjoyed playful tussles and wondered at her beauty!
Roxy (and Caitlin) and bubbles (please do not use)
So full of life and love. I can’t imagine life without her, my gorgeous, playful five-year-old!
Roxy (please do not use)
Sometimes we under-estimate the value of our furry friends…they offer us love, companionship, adoration, fun, friendship, education and reason. There is nothing more welcoming than a dog’s wagging tail and leap of happiness when you come home from a hard day! They contribute more to our lives than we realise!

Blues Buster: Paroxysm

This week’s Blues Buster over at The Tsuruoka Files is red hot this week, and we’re not talking about the current heat-wave… The prompt track is Right Now by The Creatures.
Scan of hand by Bekah Shambrook manipulated by Lisa Shambrook
(Please do not use without permission)


The din splintered Jericha’s head, every clang reverberated through the metal against her back and the heat seared her flesh.  “Charter!” she called again, trying to be heard above the screech of creasing and folding aluminium.  “CHARTER, Number One, where are you!” she screamed, squinting beneath the blinding strobes.
She ducked sideways to avoid a steel shard, crashing from the floor above, and slid back round the corner. Her heart pummelled her ribcage as she drew shallow breaths which stopped dead as she stared down the collapsing corridor.
A body lie, prostrate, beneath a sheared off door, and a crimson river ran down the listing deck. Jericha released a primal growl and lost her balance as the ship pitched. She fell into soft, but sturdy arms and the two bodies crashed down to the floor.
Jericha ignored the arms that held her and writhed free, racing off back down the corridor to the body beneath the door.  Within moments she was back in his arms, restrained, and this time she turned fury seizing her mouth.
His face quietened her.
“Damn you Charter!” she hissed driving her fists into his chest, “I thought you were following me, I thought that was you dead on the floor!”
Their eyes locked and the eerie echo of pulverising steel churned their stomachs. “Let’s go!” he cried grabbing her fist and taking off down the empty passage.
Their feet clanked down the metal floor, echoing their presence, but no one would pursue them now. When Jericha set the self-destruct, she knew there was no hope, she knew escape was impossible, but with Charter, maybe, just maybe she could make it to the escape pod on time.
Numbers flew through her head, a countdown ringing in her brain and suddenly she pulled up, yanking her hand out of his.
“What are you doing?” Charter’s eyes bored into her. “Why are you stopping?”
She stood, red-faced, grease bleeding into her wound and laughed. She shook her head, her dark curls sticking to her cheek. She placed her hands on her hips and stared candidly.  “We’re not going to make it…”
Charter shook his head, lurching forward to grab at her hand. “C’mon Captain, we’re not giving up!”
She stepped out of his reach. “It’s too far, any minute now the ship’s going to blow – even in the pod we’ll never be far enough away from the blast!” she yelled above the whine of her complaining vessel. “Let me just look at you, one last time – before it’s too late…”
Her eyes slaved across him, across his heaving chest, and she watched him run his fingers through his bloody hair, his outstretched forearm rippling with muscle and frustration.  She threw herself into his arms and pushed him up against the metal wall. Her sudden strength and ferocity caught him by surprise, as did her mouth against his. The aroma of oil and fear and sweat mingled with orange blossom felled him, and her tongue betrayed her need.
For a moment he fought her, fear conflicting with passion, but as detonations ripped through the ship’s inner sanctum, he gave way to base desire.
Jericha’s hands followed his hard contours, feeling rippling flesh beneath his torn shirt, and she rested her head against the hot wall as his mouth devoured her neck and their smouldering bodies cleaved together.
Screaming, shattering metal flew down the corridors and burning, acrid smoke engulfed them, but Jericha and Charter were past caring, and as the ship exploded they had already risen far beyond.

(591 Words)

Five Sentence Fiction: Blades

Photograph by Lisa Shambrook and Instagram (Please do not use without permission)
His hands began to smart as bitter cold bit into his skin, but he remained sat upon the frozen log, his legs jiggling to keep warm. He tugged his hat down over his red ears and breathed out, jittery breaths, feeling the warmth creeping slowly back through his woollen gloves, reviving his fingers.
He stared out across the ice, watching her feet slice and glide, his wonder evident as he watched her dance on knives.  
He shivered and stamped his feet, trying to keep life in his extremities for just a little longer and she smiled at him, her cheeks rosy and her eyes twinkling like frost. Heat flooded his body like red hot blades searing his prickling skin, and he knew he’d sit out in minus whatever just to be near her…just as long as she smiled.

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DFQWBS – Noctilite Tryst

Laura, Miranda and Rebekah have come together to offer us a chance to salute Anna and Michael in their forthcoming nuptials with a Dark Fairy Queen Writerly Bridal Shower, and the opportunity to write a romantic, wedding based piece of fiction…so here’s mine…with showers of glittery love…

Photograph and art by Lisa Shambrook (please do not use)

Noctilite Tryst

Oakenthorn soared around the outcrop and settled on the slippery scree with the setting sun dropping like a golden orb behind the Western mountains. He shook his wings and stood majestic, fully aware of the impact his silhouette made as he balanced high on the ridge. Beneath the copper sun Oakenthorn gazed keenly across the panorama, his belly growled and thrilled shivers streaked across his body.  His eyes roamed, his breath caught and smoke eddied as he exhaled. There she stood, down by the lake, her buttermilk scales and shot-silk wings catching the burnished light before it sank.

Oakenthorn paused, his muscular body gilded, until she raised her head and stared up at the ridge. His wings rippled as he stretched them then he launched, gliding across the tor, floating down and landing noiselessly beside Briar. Noses quivered, and extended and touched for a moment of electricity before Briar opened her wings and lifted high above her suitor.

The final moments of sunlight glinted with scintillating rays of gold in stark contrast to the long, dark shadows of the range. She circled and swooped, her tail brushing low over his head, and her intoxicating scent wafted on the breeze, making him reel with heady excitement. As the sun gave way to the dusky gloaming, Briar softly touched down beside Oakenthorn and the two stood with nothing but a sigh between them. Water rippled across the lake and the long grass whispered, and as night’s indigo deepened, the pair stood silent, waiting.

Far in the distance glowing torches of fire lit up the night, drawing closer, until a procession of dragons flew low across the vast, shimmering expanse of water. Dragons sailed across the darkening sky above the pair, breathing passion, and the valley blazed with yellow and white Noctilite fire. Smoke swirled and danced up into the night, and sparks and burning stars rained down in cascades of fiery confetti. Oakenthorn and Briar launched up into the horde and danced through the fireworks, their hearts alight with flames of love. They twirled amid the throng and one-by-one the dragons peeled away, gliding off into the twilight, until only the ardent couple were left wheeling and spinning together in the glowing dusk.

Night’s rising moon glinted across their scales and silken wings, and Briar let out a lingering, low growl before shooting up into the snow-capped peaks. As Oakenthorn whirled and darted after her, she vanished amid misty veils of cloud, every drop of vapour tingling with sweet anticipation. Oakenthorn followed, every sense heightened and sharp, and he glided into the shroud to hunt his feisty wraith. Silver moonbeams danced and the dragons twisted and weaved through pale shafts of light, flying close enough to kindle passions and ignite sparks that flashed like lightning atop the steamy crags. They circled, and rose above the mountain tops before bursting out of the feathery plumes of mist into the inky sky, and tumbling together, looping and rolling before dropping down to the soft, mossy grass.

Briar trembled and Oakenthorn puffed out his chest. Both released flames that danced, and whirled and intertwined, and then Oakenthorn extended his quivering nose to touch Briar’s flared nostrils. Electricity surged and long, barbed tails entwined. Briar shivered and leaned into Oakenthorn, her sigh sending burning ripples of hunger through his hard, lean body and he breathed out bathing her in amorous smoke. The moon cast rays of pearls across their iridescent scales and more rumbles smouldered in their bellies, rousing flames of desire and yearning…and finally the night was theirs.

They rose in unison, wings the colour of moonlight and cream, beating in earnest as they flew across the lake. Their feet dragged exquisitely in the diamond encrusted surf, and then they soared up the valley, over the whispering grass and up into the moonlit mountains, where the moon respectfully withdrew…and only the sparks of blazing love lit up the night…

Title: Noctilite Tryst
Author: Lisa Shambrook
eBook: Yes
Word Count: 655
Website: www.thelastkrystallos.blogspot.co.uk
Twitter: @LastKrystallos

Wedding Toast: I wish you both a magical, moonlit romance, full of glorious sunrises and sunsets, as you take wing on a wondrous journey together…

Blues Buster: A Rainy Night in Soho

Another Blues Buster from The Tsuruoka Files, the prompt song is A Rainy Night in Soho by The Pogues and several lines from this song inspired me: ‘I’ve been loving you a long time, down all the years, down all the days, and I’ve cried for all your troubles, smiled at your funny little ways…’ and ‘Now the song is nearly over, we may never find out what it means, still there’s a light I hold before me, you’re the measure of my dreams…’

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

A Rainy Night in Soho

He glanced at her, his pale blue eyes tearing up as he gazed at her long hair, glowing silver in the moonlight upon the pillow. She stirred and a smile played on his lips. He wanted to reach across and move a stray lock away from her face, but didn’t want to risk waking her at such an early hour. A sigh swelled in his throat and he released it gently, shivering as his breath departed in a long wisp of smoke.
The cold penetrated his bones, even under the thick duvet, and he pulled the cover up tucking it round his shoulders. He carefully manoeuvred his body, again cautious not to disturb his lady, and settled on his side, his head gently relaxing into his flat and stained pillow. He drifted off to sleep with the beating rain drumming in his head.

She danced in his slumber, invaded his dreams with her youthful grace and honest beauty. He whirled her in his arms, up and down the rainy, glittering streets beneath the brutal neon lights and dirty windows.
Her crimson lips and tight dress won hearts and minds, and caused desire to rise through the steamy rain. He whirled her in his arms, letting her dance, and he fought her battles and defeated the dragons disguised as paramours.  He allowed her essence to soak him and he fell in love.

He awoke again, still in the depths of night. He tried to dilute the urge, but failed, and he pushed back the duvet and stepped out onto cold, hard linoleum. He hurried across the floor and down the corridor, the cold air prickling like a million tiny daggers of ice and he clicked the bathroom door closed.
Sweet relief and he moved as swiftly as he could back to bed. Sliding down beneath the covers he wriggled his toes to recirculate his chilled blood. He shivered violently as the temperature slowly rose and he gripped the duvet tight around his chin. He stared at the window, still partially lit by the roaming moon and smiled as familiar neon blue flickered in the bottom corner, from the sign on the building opposite. He sank into the mattress, feeling his body reacquaint to its accustomed hollow. His eyes gradually closed and his dream resumed.

She still danced, but this time she waltzed just out of reach, her long, black hair glinting against the stormy night, her lips smiling and teasing. He relaxed to watch and adore his queen as she stole the hearts and yearning of every man she saw. He had nothing to worry, for she returned to his embrace every night, creeping back into his arms and soul in the early hours to slake their desire.

The moon was vanquished when he woke, and salmon pink streaked through the early clouds peering in through the icy window. Frost had etched and encrusted the pane while they’d slept, and dawn’s colours danced, filtering through the oblique design.
A tired sigh escaped his mouth and he chuckled at the smoke eddying through the crisp morning air, as he turned to regard his love.
She remained asleep, her raven hair, now silver and white in dawn’s gaze, and he carefully propped his old body up on his elbow. Ravaging cold bit through his greying vest and goose-bumps exploded across his wrinkled skin, and his rheumy eyes blinked with unshed tears.
He caressed her shrunken cheek, and moved the stray lock of hair. He leaned forward and tenderly kissed her dry, cracked lips.
Grief tore through his ancient body, and he shuddered, and swirling breath danced across her peace, as his tears dropped onto her tranquil face.
Her song was done, not a note escaped her silent lips, but he gently moved from his depression in the mattress and cupped his body to hers. There he lingered, holding his love, his tears wetting the pillow and her silver hair, and in his dreams she danced…

(662 Words)

Five Sentence Fiction: Whisper

Photograph by Bekah Shambrook (Please do not use without permission)
“Tell me, tell me what you see” she murmured, and I pulled the heavy fleece tighter around our shoulders as she relaxed into my arms, her grey hair tickling my stubbly chin.
“I see a huge ball of white flame, a golden orb, dancing on the horizon. The sky is on fire, and the few cotton clouds are bathed in molten bronze…” my words struggled to do the sunset justice, but she gripped my hand with such fervour, I continued to describe what I saw. “The sky’s turning indigo, from orange to violet to indigo, I can even see a few early stars, right up high…and the waves are lapping gently on the shore…”
“Ah, I can hear the ocean…” she spoke softly, her voice a reverent breeze, “What else can you see?” 
I stared at her, my hand brushing her cheek, I gazed right into her sightless eyes and whispered words formed in the soul of my heart, “I see beauty, perfect beauty…I’ve never, in my life, seen anything so beautiful…”

Five Sentence Fiction: Cherish

Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (Please do not use)
She ducked and muttered gripping the washing basket, as Action Man leaped from the banister and a torrent of Matchbox cars raced down the hallway, biting at her heels. 
She expertly ‘shivered’ her ‘timbers’ as she hopped over strategically placed plumped-up cushion stepping stones in a treacherous ocean of stormy blue carpet. 
She avoided the mad hullabaloo, as the cat screeched and narrowly escaped an afternoon of captivity beneath an overturned cardboard box that suddenly became the TARDIS. 
And she managed to survive feeding time at the zoo, in spite of demands to feed the tiger and the lion first and allow the monkey the meal of his choice.
She was run ragged in her own home and bossed by the most raucous of little monsters…but she wouldn’t have it any other way…  
Written for Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction, go read the other wonderful tales…