Microfiction: Lucien & Aldous #4

“I’ve always preferred the eighty-nines myself.” Aldous announced with a noticeable slur. “A more full-bodied vintage for the true sanguinarian.”

Lucien picked a shred of flesh from his teeth with a fingernail. The nail was long and scarlet and didn’t belong to him.

“Aldous, you are such a snob.” He muttered.


Microfiction: Lucien & Aldous #3

Lucien stared in glum resignation at the tightly drawn curtains. One chink in their folds and the sun would burn them both to a crisp.

“You appear upset.” Aldous ventured.

“This is the true curse of the vampire, Aldous.” Lucien sighed. “To always be denied the matinee discount at the movie theatre.”


Microfiction: Lucien & Aldous #2

For the #writethurs challenge in Twitter.

Lucien slurped at his bloody fingers. Gobbets of crimson gore oozed down his chin. Aldous was appalled.

“Manners.” He hissed, proffering a napkin.

Lucien grimaced at the crisp white linen.

“Seriously?” he said, sucking a juicy clot from this thumb. “Who taught you how to be a vampire?”


Murder Monday On Twitter

Today I decided to join in with the #MurderMonday challenge on Twitter, but rather than writing a one shot in 250 characters, I decided to skip ahead several chapters in my WIP and write a scene between my two main characters. This will be quite near the end of the story, when Haas and Strand have finally started to warm to one another. 😉

“The truth has a cost.” He whispered. “Are you willing to pay it?” She was on the run, with a bounty on her life, but nothing had threatened her resolve until the moment his lips had brushed against hers.
“Damn you, Strand.” She muttered. “I don’t know anymore.”

Of course, because it’s me, when I originally had a go at writing this scene it came out way longer than this. Cutting it down to something Tweet sized has taken something away from the atmosphere I feel. Tell you what, you decide. Here’s the original version.

“The truth comes at a cost.” He whispered, his breath warming her cheek. “Are you willing to pay it?”
She was marooned, on the run, with a bounty on her life, but nothing, not even a near miss with an assassin’s bullet had threatened her resolve until this moment, until his lips had made fleeting contact with hers.
“Damn you, Strand.” She muttered. “I don’t know anymore.”

Which one do you prefer?