I'm going to start this post out with some big news!!!!
The second book of The Worlds In The Woods series (aka Hunter's series) is now available on Amazon!!!! I'm super excited about it. I will post the link on this post and add it to my blog as well so you can access it any time. As always thank you for your support. This is something you don't get very often, an Allen and Felicia moment :). They're cute too, by the way. Or at least I think so. I hope you enjoy this scene. Prompt: Imagine someone in your OTP being stabbed. Person A lays on the ground with their hand covering their wound while Person B holds their arm sobbing violently. Person A tells Person B that they love them over and over quietly. Person A stares Person B in the eyes and Person B smiles a little bit, and then Person B sees the light go slowly from Person A’s eyes. “No, no, no,” Felicia cried as she carefully eased Allen to the ground. Allen placed his hand on the hilt of the dagger protruding from his abdomen, as blood sputtered from his mouth. “I am so sorry,” Felicia put her hands on top of his as if to hold the dagger in place. Allen reached up his free hand to brush away the hair that had slipped from Felicia’s updo during the fight, caressing her cheek as he did so. The gesture caused Felicia to lose the war she had been fighting against her tears, and they fell, mixing with the blood that was seeping out of Allen’s wound. “You did what you had to do,” Allen said softly, as some more blood sputtered from his mouth. Keeping one hand on the dagger, she raised her right hand to her mouth to try and stop a sob from escaping her mouth. “It’s okay,” Allen continued, “I love you.” Allen watched as Felicia brought her hand away from her mouth and gave a sad sort of smile as she reached for his free hand. She took her left hand and brushed away the tears that were still slipping silently down her face. She didn’t want Allen’s last memories of her to be of her crying. She wanted what little life Allen had left to be happy, or at least as happy as possible. She wanted him to die seeing her smile, not watching her crying uncontrollably. She would have the rest of her life to grieve, to cry, she wasn’t going to do it now. Not in front of him. Not while he fought for what little life he had left. “I love you too,” Felicia said softly, bringing Allen’s hand up to her mouth to give it a kiss. “Take care,” Allen’s voice was getting softer as talking took up too much energy, “My darling.” As he said those words, the life left his body. His hand fell limply to the ground, and his eyes stared lifelessly into the void. “Allen!” Felicia cried, trying to get Allen to waken, to get at least one more minute with him, but it was of no use. He was gone and he wasn’t coming back. Without hesitation the guards lifted Felicia into the air. “No,” Felicia cried, struggling to break free from them, struggling to get back to Allen’s lifeless body, but they wouldn’t allow that, “No! Allen! No!” The soldiers dragged her kicking and screaming away from Allen, leaving his body for nature to consume at will. As promised here is the link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0851M1V9L/ref=sr_1_3?keywords=the+lost+kingdoms+skye+ballantyne&qid=1582757965&sr=8-3
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I wasn't going to go this route. I was thinking more of a scene, not a poem, but a poem is what came out, so a poem it will stay.
Prompt: That’s not my issue! I wish you’d just listen to me! People are always telling me what is wrong. They don’t listen. They don’t wait for me to tell them. They don’t listen, While I explain what is wrong. I try to tell them what the issue is. They don’t listen. I try to make them understand. They don’t listen. They just want their voice to be heard. That is fine. I can listen. They can tell me what their problems are. I can listen. I can try to see it from their point of view. I try not to interrupt. I can listen. I try to hear what is going on with them. I listen. But they can’t listen for me. That’s not my issue! They don’t listen. I wish you’d listen to me! But they don’t listen. They know best. Prompt: “Did….did you bring chocolate on this mission?” / “It’s stress chocolate.” / “But why?” / “Assassinations stress me out, okay?”
Charles took a deep breath and glanced over at Ryan. She was chewing something, and she shoved something that looked like a candy wrapper underneath her when she caught him looking her way. “Did...did you bring chocolate on this mission?” he asked, still sniffing the air and staring at Ryan. “It’s stress chocolate,” Ryan mumbled around the chunk of chocolate in her mouth. “But….why?” Charles asked. He seriously doubted that he was ever going to understand Ryan. She seemed so normal at times, and then she goes around and brings chocolate on a mission and calls it her stress chocolate, and hides it like a little kid who got told no candy before dinner. “Assassinations stress me out,” Ryan swallowed her chocolate and went into a full blown, don’t mess with her or she’ll mess you up, stance, “Okay?” she was daring him to have a problem with her chocolate. She was daring him to make a bigger issue of it. She would take him down with a snap of her fingers. “Whatever,” Charles put his hands up in surrender. He wasn’t going to argue, not with her, not again. She had an uncanny way of always winning. Prompt: Rewrite or outline a story so it is unrecognizable.
For example: Finding Nemo A film where a mans wife is brutally murdered by a serial killer and his son is left physically disabled. IN a twisted turn of events his son is kidnapped and he has to chase the kidnapper thousands of miles with the help of a mentally disabled woman. The Newsies: A cruel dictator forces children to starve while he lines his pockets. He kidnaps a boy in order to convince children that it's good that they were starving. Another leader steps in and saves the children and is allowing the kidnapped boy to go free and live his dream, which he turns down in order to remain with his starving friends. The internet is once again a buzz with the shoe version of "What Color Do You See? What Do You Hear?" In honor of this craze, today's prompt is based on it.
Prompt: “Who cares what color the shoe is? It’s hideous.” / Person B stares…./ “And so was the dress,” Person A continues. / “You must hear Laurel cause only the cool people hear Yanny,” Person B huff off. “What color do you see?” Ariana asked, shoving the phone into Adeline’s face. Adeline pushed it away in frustration, all day she had been hearing things about a shoe, and it was driving her crazy. “Who cares what color the shoe is?” Adeline snapped, “It’s hideous.” At an odd blue/green and pink color with sludgy grey laces, it was truly an eye sore that should be destroyed immediately. Ariana stared at her sister in shock. This was the most important thing on the internet at the moment. How could she not care? “And so was the dress, for that matter,” Adeline continued. “You must hear Laurel then,” Ariana crossed her arms in front of her, “Because only the cool people hear Yanny,” she took her phone and stormed away. In response to the question 'What color is it?' Shoe: It is an ugly greenish blue/pink color (like the color red/orange, or blue/green, but with the combo of an already blue/green color mixed with pink), it's truly ugly. At first the laces were shockingly white, like the ugliness of the base color caused the white to sparkle, but the more I look at it, the less white they get, now they are a sludgy, ugly grey color, as if it's trying to match how ugly the shoe is...and it's getting close....(So I guess I'm all messed up...no left/right brain for me but a jumble of crazy :p) Dress: Depends on the day...I saw blue and black. I saw white and gold. Every time I would look at it/blink it would change color. Sometimes it would even do a weird ombre kind of thing with blue, black, white, and gold...that was interesting...and it got to the point that I was actually seeing more of a sea foam green color (where the blue and white was) and a light brown color (where the gold and black was). They don't really look all that good together, but whatever. Laurel/Yanny: I hear Larny.... Now to hear from you guys...What color was the dress? Did you hear Laurel or Yanny? And the most important one of the day....what color is the shoe? Prompt: Use today to clean up a scene you've written before
So today both of us kind of forgot about the prompt. I'm so sorry. I'm in the editing phase of the second book of Hunter's story...so you'll just have to deal without a prompt, because the whole book is cleaning up scenes I've already written. So if you want to read today's prompt you'll have to wait till I publish this book and then buy it :). It's another Hunter prompt! Sorry, not sorry, but he's been on my mind lately, mostly because I'm working on editing the second book of the series. It's going very well by the way, and I have high hopes that I'll be able to start the process of publishing it by the 28 :). I'll keep you posted and let you know if that changes, but as of right now that's the goal.
Prompt: “Ready for another war?” / “Same war. It’s only the enemy that’s different.” Carrie made her way to Hunter’s side. She didn’t say anything, she just simply sat next to him, letting her presence be enough. “We should start planning,” Hunter said after a few minutes. “We don’t have to do anything right now,” Carrie said, reaching out for his hand. He had just lost his mother. They could give him time to grieve. “We’ve already wasted enough time,” Hunter said, taking his hand away from her. “We’ll be fine,” Carrie said, “We can work on it by ourselves for a few days. You can take some time. Come back when you’re ready.” “I’m fine,” Hunter rose to his feet and headed to the war room. “Ready for another war?” James asked, slapping Hunter on the back as he walked into the room. “Same war,” Hunter said stonily, “It’s only the enemy that’s different.” Prompt: “Sorry, my friend is getting impatient, I’ve got to go.”
“Sorry,” Lucy said, reluctantly pulling away as her friend sent yet another text message, “My friend is getting impatient.” Michael nodded, allowing her to pull herself away, but keeping his hands in hers. “I’ve got to go.” “Go,” he said softly, kissing the top of her head in goodbye. Prompt: “How did you get this?” / “Just stitch it up, that’s all you need to know.”
Carrie glanced up at the man who had walked into the room. Her mom quickly got to her feet and looked him over. Carrie watched from the sidelines, taking in this man who had supposedly saved them all. He wasn’t at all what she had expected him to be. She had thought a hero would look a little more like a hero. Maybe being the knight in shining armor, with a white horse; a person who glimmered everywhere he went. Or maybe she thought he’d look more like a king, after all, she had heard that he was a king in his own right. But the man who stood before her was a far cry from the knight in shining armor or the king that she had been thinking he should be. He looked very much like a shadow, which, Carrie guessed, for his profession, was an asset. His dark hair looked in desperate need of a haircut, but he didn’t seem to mind it. His skin was darkened by the sun, and somehow made his dark eyes seem even darker. When dressed all in black, he could very easily be mistaken for a shadow. “Take him to the infirmary,” Carrie’s mother ordered a nearby guard, “And get him stitched up.” “I’ll do it,” Carrie found herself saying. Something about his eyes drew her toward him. For a man who was so adept at killing, at being a weapon, his eyes were remarkably soft. It piqued her interest, and she found she wanted to learn more about the king without a kingdom. The guards glanced at Carrie’s mother. With a slight nod of her head, she acquiesced to her daughter’s request. Carrie smiled lightly and walked down to help the man to the infirmary. “How did you get this?” Carrie asked, pointing at the wound across his side as she helped him down the hall. “Just stitch it up,” Hunter said, his voice devoid of all emotion, not even pain crossed it, “That’s all you need to know.” “I’m not made of glass, I’m not going to break if you tell me about it.” “I never said you were,” Hunter said. He knew better than to think that a person couldn’t handle things just because they were girls. His lack of desire to talk about his wounds had nothing to do with her gender, and everything to do with his need for privacy and desire for anonymity. What he did was his business, and the story of his wounds were his secret to keep. “They say you’re a king,” Carrie switched tactics as they reached the infirmary, trying to distract him from the pain of being stitched up, “But your aunt is the one who’s ruling.” Hunter didn’t say a word, so Carrie continued. “Are you ever going to reclaim your throne?” “My kingdom is the battleground,” Hunter said as the nurse finished stitching him up, “The Queen,” he pushed himself to a standing position, “Can keep her throne.” Prompt: “That’s your plan?” / “Brilliant isn’t it?” / “That’s not a plan.”
Aiden looked smugly over at Hunter after disclosing their plan of attack on their mission. “That’s your plan?” Hunter asked, his eyebrows furrowing in both confusion and distress. This had to be some kind of joke. It wasn’t possible that a person could be that stupid, could it? “Brilliant, isn’t it?” Aiden’s eyes sparkled, and if his hair had been longer he would have undoubtedly done the girly hair toss when they had just done something clever and were basking in just how clever they were. “That’s um…” Hunter looked at the three faces that were staring at him, “Not a plan.” “It’s a brilliant plan,” Aiden fought back. Hunter sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought. |
Skye BallantyneI am very excited to welcome you to my blog! Hope you enjoy! Categories |