Unfortunately it’s just the nature of the business. Almost all contests and open calls require that a story be unpublished. To many, even a Facebook post or a post on your own blog counts. There do seem to be a couple where this is not the case, but I’d rather not take that chance. So, until I’m published and the rights for my stories revert back to me, the stories you will find on here are the ones that I don’t plan on publishing.
I love taking creative writing classes as it gives me a chance to explore different genres. Take the following as an example. This assignment was very open…write a story in the romance genre…think steamy, trashy and the like. I had a lot of fun writing this but it’s not something I can see myself submitting anywhere.
As always, your comments and critiques are very welcome. Please let me know what you think. Trust me, be as brutal as you like, I can take it.
The Widow and the Busboy
night was hot, oppressively so. The one
working ceiling fan in the dimly lit country diner was doing little to cool the
air as it squeaked and squealed in protest.
It was as if it didn’t want to move anymore than anyone else did in the
heat and it was letting its feelings known.
sat alone, nursing her second cup of coffee, seated in the vintage vinyl booth
complete with a beat up and chipped Formica table. The whole diner was a throwback to the
fifties with a jukebox in one corner and old record albums adorning the
walls. Even the faded linoleum floor
looked as if it hadn’t been changed in 60 odd years or so.
sighed as she looked out the window, the summer winds creating whirling dust devils
across the empty parking lot. ‘It’s all
their fault’ she thought to herself as she took another sip of coffee. They were the reason she was in the middle of
the prairies, on this hellish road trip.
Those ungrateful kids. Hadn’t she
already been through enough? Hadn’t she
suffered while she nursed her husband, their father, through his illness,
accompanying him to all the doctor’s visits and hospital stays? Hadn’t she given up enough of her life to be
by his side through it all? Then they
had the nerve to protest the will and have their lawyers freeze all of the
assets and the bank accounts. That’s the
only reason why she was here at this godforsaken diner. Instead of being able to take the private jet
to Calgary for the hearing, she was forced to drive her beat up old Chevy clear
across the country, all the way from Toronto, by herself. She didn’t even manage to get enough cash out
of the wall safe to hire a driver or to take a cramped, commercial flight. No, she wasn’t travelling in the style she
was used to, she was travelling like a peasant.
mind drifted back to that awful scene at the funeral home. They had called her so many nasty names. Names like gold digger, tramp, and even
hussy. Couldn’t they see how distraught
she was? Didn’t they know how much she
had loved their father? That he was the
love of her life and she didn’t know how she’d go on without him? So what if she was younger than even his
youngest child? So what if their
marriage had only lasted six months before his untimely death? Their love was so great and honest, it’s why
he left the bulk of his estate to her.
Why did she have to travel to them and sit before a judge to plead her
case? That money was hers and they knew
it. They were only trying to punish her
for something she couldn’t understand.
That and to assuage their own guilt about not being there when he passed
tinkling of the bell above the door as the last of the customers left the diner
snapped Victoria out of her reverie. She
gasped as she looked up and caught sight of the most beautiful man she had ever
seen. He was bent over the far table,
clearing dishes into a tub tucked under his arm. Long golden locks cascaded down to his
shoulders, muscles bulged and glistened with perspiration as he worked, and his
ass was absolute perfection in his tight, clinging jeans.
as if she had suddenly been awakened from a long sleep. Desire coursed through her veins. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced in over
a year, the love she had for her late husband being more of the platonic sort.
longer she looked at him the hotter she became.
It wasn’t just the temperature that was making her sweat now.
what he was doing and looked at her from across the room, as if he could sense
her hunger and it was drawing him in.
get you something else, ma’am?” his prairie drawl sending shivers down her
don’t think you have on the menu what I’m hungry for.” Victoria said, biting
her lover lip as she looked him up and down.
walked over towards her table, cowboy boots clacking against the linoleum. Every step closer lighting up nerves through
her body, making every inch of her tingle.
get off work anytime soon?” she asked.
continued on past her table without saying another word, walked up to the door
and with deft, clean movements he turned the sign over to the ‘Closed, Please
Come Again’ side, locked it and pulled the shade down.
now.” he replied, turning back towards her.
were together in an instant, locked in a passionate kiss. Her fingers threaded their way through his
hair as his hands roamed up and down her back, finally settling on her high,
tight buttocks, squeezing and kneading them through her jeans as he pressed her
close against his lean, taut body.
off to take a breath, Victoria whispered against his ear “This is crazy!”
pulled back slightly so he could look deeply into her eyes.
“Sometimes we all need a little
crazy in our lives.” he breathed, using one finger to trace a bead of sweat
that dripped down her neck, into the soft mounds of flesh encased in her
low-cut t-shirt. He followed his finger
with his lips, burying his face in her breasts, breathing in her damp, musky
passion and the heat were almost overwhelming to her as they kissed once
more. Their sweat mingling together as
their hands explored each others’ bodies.
She came the moment his hand slipped inside of her jeans, fingers
thrusting deep within her.
could hardly hear anything besides their ragged, harsh breathing and her blood
pounding in her ears. The loud banging
coming from the back room was the only sound that was able to break
pushed her back from him frantically and with wide panicked eyes said “Shit,
it’s my wife!” He quickly raced to let
his wife in the back door, running his hands through his tousled hair and
straightening his shirt as he went.
smiled to herself, walked back to her table and left a wad of cash next to her
coffee cup. ‘He certainly deserves that
generous tip.’ she thought as she quietly left the diner.