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:

© Lisa Shambrook

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

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.

 

Blues Buster: From Black Gold to White Diamond

© Lisa Shambrook

The blood-red Ducati growled between his thighs. It surged forward, the front wheel lifting off the tarmac then the tire bounced back to the ground and Trent’s stomach flipped as the bike roared beneath him. He flew down the road, leaving his rebel yell in a cloud of dust.

With nothing to see but the endless road ahead, he let his mind wander.

She’d giggled as he’d run his dirty fingers up her leg, she’d shaken her head in mock irritation as his rough fingernail snagged her stockings, but she hadn’t stopped him. Instead she’d downed the glass of bourbon and rearranged herself into a more pleasing position. The diamonds about her neck had sparkled amid the shaft of silver moonlight, pooling like provocative stars in the swell of her bosom, but he sought more than a string of gems.

A lone, wild dog loped across the road in front of him and Trent was back in the present, gripping the bike with muscular legs and swerving to avoid disaster. As his pumping heart settled, he cast his mind back again, reliving that night’s delights.

When morning had arrived and white light had flooded the penthouse, Trent nudged Camille and grinned. Her head lolled on the satin pillow, hair mussed-up from the night’s fun and her eyes, smudged like coal, closed. The bottle on the nightstand stood half empty and amber liquid puddled beside the overturned glass. He’d moved quickly to the safe, behind the portrait of her oil baron husband, and input a series of numbers. The door swung open and Trent swiped the small velvet pouch. Yes, he was after way more than a string of diamonds.

Once dressed, he drizzled the white stones between his fingers, then scooped them into his palm and slipped them into his leather jacket’s pocket. He emptied a vase of tiny pebbles and replaced the velvet pouch.   

Now on the road, he glanced down at his zipped pocket and grinned. The sun shone down on the road, and in his mirror he could see the black tarmac behind shimmering like a sea of diamonds. His heart flipped just like his stomach had, he was set for life. Her face flickered before him, and for a moment he regretted leaving her behind, but he’d sworn only to take what was rightfully his, and the diamonds would cover that. He knew she’d take punishment for his actions, but he’d been through too much to care. When you’ve done all you can and had everything stripped away, your spirit of vengeance rose faster than your conscience.

The road snaked on, black as far as the eye could see, like a river of shimmering oil. It had been Trent’s intuition, Trent’s knowledge that had discovered the reserve, but he’d been violently elbowed out of any deal. In turn he’d driven into Camille’s lonely heart and taken his revenge, as cold as the white stones lining his pockets.

The bike sped on and the states blurred until the lights of LA twinkled in San Bernadino, and Trent pulled over. The Ducati throbbed as Trent unzipped his jacket and grinned. He cast his gloves aside and dipped his fingers into his pocket. The delight he’d felt, the freedom of the road, and the escape, suddenly chilled. His mind leaped backwards, frantically rewinding, until he saw the river of black tarmac shimmering in the midday sun, like a trail of sparkling diamonds…and the hole in his pocket turned his heart into frozen stone.

(584 Words)

A tale for Jeff’s Blues Buster over at The Tsuruoka Files…it’s sparkly for Christmas, even though the song is not! Prompt song Man on the Run by Cowboy Mouth.

Five Sentence Fiction: Hunger

Rain © Lisa Shambrook

The rain fell, heavy and abrupt, and before Lily had a chance to move she was soaked, the sky’s tears drenching her t-shirt and darkening her mud-splattered jeans. Shaking, dirt-ridden hands hung at her sides and she stared up into the roiling clouds as the heavens wept with her.

Lily bit her lip as her fingers trembled through her straggly tresses then she flung out her arms in defiance as she twirled; starved vengeance served as she whirled. Her hair spun out in heavy, water-laden rat-tails as she ravenously kicked up earth, and the rain danced on her skin and drummed upon the fresh mound under her feet.

Her laugh echoed as she buried far more than a corpse beneath the hammering of dawn’s heavy downpour.

Another Five Sentence Fiction for the word prompt Hunger…make of it what you will in its ambiguity!

Blues Buster: Not Enough

It’s the Blues Buster Anniversary, a year of music-prompted flash fiction and lots of fun over at The Tsuruoka Files. This week’s song is “She’s Too Good For Me” by Warren Zevon…and my tale:

Photo by Bekah Shambrook
(Please do not use)

My hands shook.

She became my world the first moment I saw her, yeah, a cliché, I know, but it’s true. One glance was all it took and I was gone, hook, line and the proverbial sinker! She didn’t want me though, nope, I wasn’t her type, but that didn’t stop me trying and trying some more. I caught her too, oh yes, and I lost my heart, don’t want to admit that, but I did, for real.

My knees trembled and I struggled not to retch.

When I saw her walk down the aisle clutching her daddy’s arm, a halo of gold framing that pretty little face of hers, I just about thought I was in heaven. I slipped that ring onto her dainty finger and thought I’d hit the jackpot!

I flinched and shivered as I stared at the floor.

I got wound right round that pretty little finger. She had everything she wanted, I made sure of that, everything and anything, she only had to ask and she got it. She only had to smile at me, flutter those long lashes and I’d have reached right up into the night sky and given her the moon if she’d asked for it.

A strangled sob rose in my throat.

I thought we had it all, I certainly did! When she gazed at me, my heart did flip-flops, somersaults, crazy stuff, and her blue eyes trapped my soul. Did I really say that? Yes, I did, because it’s true. It’s always been true, from the first time I saw her, like I already told you. I drowned in those eyes and I wasn’t the only one. I knew I wasn’t the only one, I’ve seen how other men look at her.

I wiped the back of my hand across my nose, sniffing loudly.

Other men, yeah, they could look, but they sure couldn’t touch, she was mine. She was always mine. From the moment she said ‘I do’ she was mine.

Blood pooled on the clean, white tiles and the knife glinted in my hand.

You know I’d have given her anything, you know that don’t you? Anything she wanted, it would have been hers.

I licked my cracked lips as sweat trickled down my back.

He stared up at me as he collapsed, his hands, grasping his belly, as scarlet as the tulips in the vase by the front door, her favourite flowers.

Turns out I wasn’t everything she needed.

(412 Words)  

Love Bites 2014: No More

As one of the hosts for Love Bites 2014, I feel compelled to join in and write, even though my entry is inadmissible…so here is my story on Love Gone Bad, Bad Valentine and Cupid Screwing Up His Shot:

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

No More 

She clamped her mouth closed, biting on her lower lip to keep it from trembling. She gripped her loose dress, clutching a handful of printed flowers adorning the soft material in her hand over the pit of her churning stomach. Brows furrowed above wide, hazel flecked eyes and she flinched as spittle and words sprayed across her face.
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in his throat as he swallowed and scowled at her. She glanced away as his glare speared her, but her neck snapped upwards as he grabbed and pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger.
Her tooth pierced her bottom lip and a bead of ruby grew spilling inside her mouth.
The veins in his neck stood out, pulsing to match the throb of the vein that tremored on his forehead. His nostrils flared and his eyes bulged as she met his stare.
She swallowed hard, blood leaving a thick metallic taste on her tongue. Fear seeped through her bones, a cold sweat blooming over her alabaster skin.
“Don’t you ever look at another man…” he sneered, alcohol tinging his breath. “You’re mine.”
She shook her head, leaning back against the wall as sweat prickled her skin. She closed her eyes, unable to stare into his any longer. His finger and thumb gripped tighter and slid down her smooth neck pinching her windpipe.
“If you do, you’ll never look at another man again.” His words swam inside her head. “Not ever.”
Inside her brain latent emotions kicked in, supressed desires and hidden urges took hold. For too long she’d given everything to this man, to this pig, and as fog coursed through her mind her mouth dropped open, trying to gain breath. Blood from her bitten lip trickled onto her tongue and her skin tingled.
Desire swayed through her body, she arched and she licked her lips.
“You like that do you?” he smirked, “A bit of rough, well I can give you more of that!”
She fought the urge to vomit as he leaned against her, his body hard and obvious. His spare hand dropped to his belt, loosening it as he grinded against her. “That’s more like it…” he leered, releasing her neck and winding his fingers in her golden mane. His lips crushed hers and her eyes flashed open.
She stiffened and pulled her hand away from her stomach, wedged between their bodies. She swallowed again tasting her blood and her vision blurred as the flavour lodged inside her brain. She turned her head, letting his slobbery lips slide across her cheek, and as he breathed in to release the zip on his jeans, she opened her mouth against his neck. His breath rasped and caught as her hand moved down his thigh, and he pushed harder.
A smile tickled her lips. “No more…” she whispered.
“Uh?” he panted, sliding his hand through her hair, and trying to shrug out of his trousers.
“No more…” she murmured against his stubbled neck and sank her teeth into his bulging jugular.
“No more,” she whispered as she wiped the blood from her lips with the back of her pale hand. “No more,” she breathed, sated and full. She grabbed her leather jacket, zipped it up, flung her golden hair over her shoulder and stepped out into the chill of the night. “No more.”

(559 Words)

There are four more days left to write your own story…go write yours and link up here!
Have fun with Cupid!

Monday Mixer: Scorned…

Photograph by Bekah Shambrook (Please do not use)

Scorned…

The walls spun and draconian drum beats thudded through his hangover, splitting his head. His socked feet slid on the swanky marble floor and a painful schism seared through his ankle as he raced to the window.

She’d posited her argument last night, but he’d been too drunk to garner his thoughts and his mouth, and what he thought had begun in playful, sportive fashion had quickly descended into a drunken nightmare. She’d forgiven embezzlement, peculation she’d called it, but this was a step too far and she was calling in the heavies, yes, her words ‘the heavies’!

He’d offered diamonds, cash, anything, in vain, and now his hand gingerly massaged his temple.  His stomach heaved as the mawkish aroma of failure and vomit overwhelmed him as did the horrific stench of slurry, rising in a steaming haze from the pile in the driveway right where his Lamborghini was parked.

(150 Words)

Hmmm…so I plan to relax and fit only a few of the requisite three out of the nine prompts into my Monday Mixer over at Jeff’s Latinum Vault, so why, oh why do I keep going for Overachiever? ‘Cause it’s fun! This week the words put themselves there…and I had all nine before I realised it! Go read the rest and enjoy!