Friday, January 9th, 2009
Flash Fiction – The How To Series

For the next few weeks, I plan on using Fridays to house a series of “How To” posts on Flash Fiction itself. What it is, my tips for writing it, things to remember when posting it and then some of my inspirations and what has happened/is happening to them. At the very end, I’ll talk a little about why I started writing flash fiction, why I started posting it, what it has done for me and what my plans are for my own flash fiction on this site.

If you have any particular questions or requests, leave a comment and let me know what they are so I can be sure and address them.

As an added enticement, at the end of the series, I’ll choose a winner who can then give me a set of 4 prompts and a sexuality choice and I’ll write a flash with it, 500 words minimum, up to 1500 as the muse takes me. I do well with challenges.

Rules to Enter:
I’ll randomly choose with a random number generator from all the commenters to this series.

You can have one drawing entry per post, you are welcome to comment more than once but to avoid spamming, only one will count. If I see posts of multiple “I want to be entered on the same post”, you still only get one entry and, if you happen to win, I may not be nice to you in the flash.

When you comment, make the commentor something I can recognize and refer to easily. More than one Anonymous becomes impossible to prove who is who. Email address (only I can see them) would be even better.

Winner will be announced the friday AFTER the last post in the series. All series posts will remain open until then.

Winner has ten days to respond to the comment that they won with their choices or I’ll choose another winner.

Saturday, December 20th, 2008
The Friday Flash Quandry and a Poll

Friday Flash

So I find myself in a quandry. I love my Friday Flash efforts and I’ve gotten a lot of good ideas and even sales from them. But I also have full stories I owe and producing a Friday Flash each week takes time and creative energy I could otherwise apply to full stories that I owe editors and publishers. I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to at least cut back.

I put a poll up and I’ll leave it open until at least after New Year’s. Keep in mind that I need to do SOMETHING but I’m trying to gauge your interest in the flashes. So tell me what your first choice would be….

(Editing this post to make it a sticky for a while)

Sunday, November 30th, 2008
Friday(ish) Flash – White Mountain (m/m)

Friday Flash

Today’s Friday Flash is a m/m offering from the land of my cougar shifters. Hope you enjoy it!

(Archives are on the website, if you want to read the offerings of past weeks)

White Mountain
(c) 2008 by Maura Anderson

“Is that all you need for now, Mr. Hollister?” The overly made-up blonde store clerk fluttered her false lashes and bent over a little so he could have an unobstructed view straight down her cleavage. Too bad she was too young, too human and far too female, she was certainly more than willing.

Read the rest of this entry »

Saturday, November 15th, 2008
Friday Flash – Black Dragon (m/m)

Friday Flash

This is based on a lovely picture sent to me by Jet, courtesy of the ladies of the Phade. So, ladies, what do you think of the Dragon you inspired?

(Archives are on the website, if you want to read the offerings of past weeks)

Black Dragon
(c) 2008 by Maura Anderson

Maolmuire, you are summoned.

Mal attempted to ignore the mental summons and drift back to his peaceful sleep. Surely another could answer the summons instead.

Maolmuire, you are needed and are sworn to answer the call. Arise and report to the Council chambers.

With a gusty sigh of resignation, Mal cracked his eyes open. His eyes gradually focused on the stone wall of his lair, dotted with quartz and pyrite. The glittering minerals sparkled in the low light, easily visible to his sensitive eyes.

With a groan, he forced himself off the low platform. So stiff. How long had he slept this time? Even in his dragonskin, the extended immobility had taken a toll. A heavy shove moved the huge stone sealing his lair’s entrance to one side. Bright sunlight assaulted his eyes and he could feel his pupils contract down to a slit in response.

He sniffed the fresh air that rushed in, cool and wet with the scent of the salty ocean nearby but also overlaid with a faint taint of chemicals. Pollution had even reached here. Damned humans.

With no smells that would indicate a threat nearby, he squeezed out the doorway and past the boulder. The rough abrasion of the rocks felt so good he couldn’t resist pausing for a moment to rub his shiny black scales on it. Too bad he couldn’t just take a quick dip in the ocean and then sun himself for a while. He would be a lot happier for it.

Report now, Maolmuire. This is no time to indulge yourself.

Mal snarled and gave a last good scratch to his right wing in defiance of the Council’s lackey. Let him dare try to stop him. Wrapped in the illusion of a cloudy sky, he launched himself into a long glide off the high ledge.


Caleb bailed from his bed, jolted awake by the motion of the bed. Was he being shelled? Who was firing on him? Where were they? He rolled to take cover at the base of the wall near the door, the pistol he’d grabbed even before fully awake cocked and ready.

He froze and gradually realized the only sounds he heard were his own thundering heartbeat and the distant sounds of the morning traffic. He wasn’t in Afghanistan anymore.

Caleb sat up, slowly, unable to stop himself from examining every corner of the small bedroom, assessing every shadow.

Once reassured that there was no threat in the bedroom, he stood and made his way to the bathroom. The adrenaline was wearing off and he needed a shower to clean off the soured sweat coating his body.

How the hell had it come to this? Was he even capable of becoming normal again? Well, according to some people he’d never be normal because being gay was already abnormal. He just couldn’t go on like this.

Setting the .45 on the back of the toilet, in easy reach, he stared at himself in the mirror. Scruffy and unshaven, his blonde hair way too long and the still-fresh scars on his face and chest shiny and bright red – he was a mess. Maybe he should just be done with it all. Not like he had shit to live for anyway – the Marines wouldn’t send him back to his team unless he was able to convince the psych he was okay.

Hell, he knew he wasn’t okay.

But he wasn’t a coward. He’d never been a coward. Caleb fought the temptation back. If he really had wanted to die, he could have left that job to the Taliban. According to the guard he’d later killed, they were all set to film his decapitation but he’d refused to beg or grovel. Refused them anything beyond his name, rank, service number and date of birth. It infuriated them and they redoubled their efforts to crack him.

Heart pounding again, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over him. Caleb grabbed the bathroom counter to steady himself but it didn’t help. Earthquake. Another in the weird spat of earthquakes that were shaking through Southern California since he got back.

Friday, October 31st, 2008
Friday Flash Fiction – Check the Fiction with Friction Blog

Friday Flash

This week I’ve posted my Flash Fiction offering on the Fiction With Friction blog as part of our Hellaween free reads.

You can read the offering Bonds of Steel here
and you may recognize the characters – it’s Noah and Jim!