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Genre Scribes: Friday Fiction Writing Challenge #20 — Estate

Welcome to Week 20 of the Friday Fiction Writing Challenge! Here’s a complete list of all the posts so far. Feel free to join in.

This week’s random word is: Estate

This was a fun one! I thought about all the different types of estate: money, land, housing estates, cars (in the UK station wagons are called estate cars), and inheritance. I opted for a mix of land and money—rich bad guy. This time, I decided to play around with the first kiss in a romance story. It was an enjoyable challenge trying to get across the fact that these two have a thing for each other, and haven’t acted on it, in only 250 words.

I’m happy with the result, and I’d love to play around with these characters again in the future. But for now, here’s my response to the challenge prompt:

Kelly stumbled over another tree root. A thick blanket of leaves made it almost impossible to see the root tendrils snaking across the forest floor. Just as she was getting up, Declan dove for her, throwing an arm over her waist.

Declan tilted his chin, motioning over her head. “Kavanaugh’s men are patroling up ahead.” The heat of Declan’s breath against her ear was doing a number on her determination to remain immune to him.

“What are they doing so far from the main house?” She risked a glance in the direction he’d indicated—anything to distract from the closeness of him. Armed men walked about thirty feet away from where they lay hidden in a hollow in the ground.

“Maybe Kavanaugh caught wind of our plan.”

“I doubt it, he’d have the house buttoned up, not three miles outside the estate grounds.”

Declan smiled at her, and her stomach flipped like it wasn’t supposed to do. “Admit it, you miss this life.”

“Absolutely not.”

That stomach-flipping smile grew into a grin. “You still can’t lie for shit, Kel.”

He was right, and she had nothing to refute it with. Instead, she pulled leaves from his hair. 

Touching him was a mistake.

His eyes darkened, surely mirroring her own. She should move, keep some distance between them, but she couldn’t.

Declan rolled her so that they were face-to-face. “If you keep looking at me like that—”

Kelly tugged him close and kissed him like she’d wanted to all those years ago.

Well, that’s it for me. I’m off to get some baking done, and then feet up for some Psych. Thanks for reading, and have a fantastic weekend!

HOW IT WORKS

  1. Don’t think too hard on the word; just write about it for a maximum of twenty-five minutes or 250 words.
  2. Once you complete your sprint, give it some basic editing.
  3. Be courageous and post your results to your blog.

RULES

  1. Complete the challenge on your blog before 1700 UTC of the following Friday.
  2. Link to the original prompt post and make sure to use the tag Genre Scribes so that we can see all the posts together in WP Reader.
  3. Your text must be fiction (preferably one you publish in (or plan to).
  4. No real-life stories.
  5. The text can be dialogue, an interior monologue, a scene, flash fiction, anything… so long as it’s fiction.

Full information is on the Genre Scribes: Friday Fiction Writing Challenge page.

For my first microblogvember post, I’m going to mix it with my series of Scots posts.
Stay in Scots, sometimes spelt stey, means live (in a place), dwell, stay, stop.
“Ah stay in Glesca.” (I live in Glasgow.)

I’ve only just got my bahookie back onto micro.blog and have just spotted microblogvember in my timeline. There are some brilliant posts for yesterday’s word: touch.
I don’t care that it’s almost halfway through the month, but I’m going to join in for the rest of the month.

(In Scots)
A wis jist sittin doon tae hae ma breakfast wi a bit o YouTube craftin vids an seen is wunnerfae ad fur kindness oan St Andrew’s Day.

Inglis Owersettin (English Translation)

I was just sitting down to have my breakfast with a bit of YouTube crafting vids and saw this wonderful ad for kindness on St Andrew’s Day.

A wee post in Scots

Ower e last twa-three month, Ah’ve been barkin an fleein oan e eBay wabstaid. Dinnae fash, Ah’m fendie an bocht athin saicant-handit.

The day, Ah gat aroon tae yuisin ma new-tae-iz shewin machine. Ah goat it fur wanworth £20 plus P&P. Whit e bairgin!

Noo, time tae git a wheen claes mendit.

Inglis owersettin ablow (English translation below).

Over the last few months, I’ve been spending extravagantly on eBay. Don’t worry, I’m thrifty and got everything second-hand.

Today, I got around to using my new-to-me sewing machine. I got it for the bargain price of £20 plus postage and packaging. What a bargain!

Now, it’s time to mend some clothes.

A few months ago, I used the Scots word shoogle in one of the Genre Fiction challenge posts. In that post, I quickly explained that it’s sometimes challenging to go from thinking in Scots (one of Scotland’s three indigenous languages—the others being Scottish English and Gaelic) to putting those thoughts onto the page in English. Well, Scottish English for me.

Since that time, I’ve been making a real effort to up my knowledge of my mither tongue—reading books on its history, grammar, and taking an OpenLearn course on the language. It may sound odd that as an adult, I have to learn how to write in my ain leid, and you’d be right. We were never taught Scots at school. Now, I’m not going to whine about how Scots was actively discouraged by teachers and others in authority. That’s just how it was when I was growing up—fortunately, it’s a bit different now. Instead, I’m going to embrace my growing knowledge and share the occasional post in Scots (with English translation).

I’ve wanted to do this for a couple of months now but was a bit wary because, well, grammar. But, if I wait until I’ve got it all perfect in my head, I’ll never get around to it. As it’s November—St. Andrews Day is on the 30th—I’m going to suck it up, accept that I’ll make mistakes, and just go for it now.

I’m not the only one posting in Scots; check out my wonderful husband’s blog for a wheen o animals and beasties in Scots. Behold the grumphie.

One note: My Scots is a mix of Central and Doric dialects. I was brought up by a Central speaking mother and a Doric speaking father. I also went to school in both regions. Therefore, I mix both dialects in my speech and writings.

Ah aim to post something short in Scots a couple of times a week. Dinna fash, the English translation will be at the end of each post. Thanks for reading. Click through to my first post in Scots.

Hae a guid day!

Genre Scribes: Friday Fiction Writing Challenge #19 — Shopping

Welcome to Week 19 of the Friday Fiction Writing Challenge! Here’s a complete list of all the posts so far. Feel free to join in.

This week’s random word is: Shopping

As hobbies and pastimes go, shopping is not on my list. It’s more of a need to do than a like to do. 

With that out of the way. I decided to play around with a “meet cute” for my response. If you’re not familiar with a meet cute, it’s a screenwriting term for how the hero and heroine in a romance/story with a romance subplot meet.

Here’s my response:

Natalie stepped onto the elevator of the prestigious Astoria building on West Ave. The whole bus ride there, she’d berated herself for not telling her boss to pick up his own shit from his brother’s place. It was bad enough that she had to get three buses to get there, but having to walk past all those stores where even window shopping was out of her price range was too much. 

“What floor?”

Natalie jumped. How had she not seen him? It’s not like he didn’t stand out with those ice-blue eyes or his simple, tailored shirt and jeans. “Penthouse, please.”

He hit the button for her requested floor and leaned against the wall. His eyes slid over her, lingering at her shoes. “Who sent you?”

Was it really that obvious that she didn’t belong here? “None of your business.”

“Considering I’m the only person who lives up there, it actually is my business.”

Crap. “Mr. Deaver, I’m Natalie Cross. Anton said he told you I was coming.”

Relief seemed to wash over the man. “You can’t be too careful.” He held out his hand to shake hers. “Call me Evan.”

Warmth radiated from where their hands met all the way up to her face. She pulled her hand from his like he was contagious. This man was a complication she didn’t need. She shoved her hands in her pockets and looked up. The access panel in the ceiling was open. What the hell?

Thanks for reading and have a fantastic weekend!

HOW IT WORKS

  1. Don’t think too hard on the word; just write about it for a maximum of twenty-five minutes or 250 words.
  2. Once you complete your sprint, give it some basic editing.
  3. Be courageous and post your results to your blog.

RULES

  1. Complete the challenge on your blog before 1700 UTC of the following Friday.
  2. Link to the original prompt post and make sure to use the tag Genre Scribes so that we can see all the posts together in WP Reader.
  3. Your text must be fiction (preferably one you publish in (or plan to).
  4. No real-life stories.
  5. The text can be dialogue, an interior monologue, a scene, flash fiction, anything… so long as it’s fiction.

Full information is on the Genre Scribes: Friday Fiction Writing Challenge page.

Genre Scribes: Friday Fiction Writing Challenge #18 — Airport

Welcome to Week 18 of the Friday Fiction Writing Challenge! Here’s a complete list of all the posts so far. Feel free to join in.

This week’s random word is: Airport

For some reason this was a tough one. I went through three different scenarios before I went with the one below. It’s difficult to write a suspense/action scene set in an airport—with all the security etc. Every idea I had involved a gun, or a chase… Not very believeable in this day and age.

So, I opted for the scene below:

The car swerved again. 

Maddie crossed her arms over her head before she slammed into the side. The driver certainly didn’t give a damn that she was in the trunk.

She’d already searched for the trunk release, but the car was too old to have one. Her abductor was smart. Though, maybe not that smart.

A spark of hope twinkled to life in her chest. The spare tire. Maddie scooted back and tugged the edge of the carpet toward her. On top of the spare was a tire iron.

Ha. Maddie’s abductor wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. Not that she’d seen him in the longterm parking out by the airport. But the woodsy cologne told her that it was a man. He’d been smart on his choice of car, but he hadn’t thought to remove the tire iron.

Buoyed by her find, Maddie removed the panel covering the left light cluster and scrunched into the opposite corner. She aimed the tire iron at the exposed lights and punched until it was gone.

The car screeched to a halt, then rocked as the driver got out.

Maddie’s heart drummed so loud she couldn’t hear if the driver was heading her way. But common sense told her to be prepared. She gripped the tire iron, ready to beat the shit out of whoever this guy was. The trunk opened. Before she could swing, the man disarmed her.

“You’re going to get us killed,” he said.

“Kurt? What the fuck?”

Thanks for reading and have a great weekend!

HOW IT WORKS

  1. Don’t think too hard on the word; just write about it for a maximum of 250 words.
  2. Once you complete your sprint, give it some basic editing.
  3. Be courageous and post your results to your blog.

RULES

  1. Complete the challenge on your blog before 1700 UTC of the following Friday.
  2. Link to the original prompt post and make sure to use the tag Genre Scribes so that we can see all the posts together in WP Reader.
  3. Your text must be fiction (preferably one you publish in (or plan to).
  4. No real-life stories.
  5. The text can be dialogue, an interior monologue, a scene, flash fiction, anything… so long as it’s fiction.

Full information is on the Genre Scribes: Friday Fiction Writing Challenge page.