Friday Flash Fiction – Inside the Author’s Mind installment

So I’ve been slack on getting these written. That whole summer thing I mentioned a few weeks ago, yeah, that’s in full swing. ANYWAYS, here is another Inside the Author’s Mind installment. I giggled through this one and hope I’m not the only one who enjoys it. The last one is over here.


Where’d the Muse Go?

(c) 2013 Necia Phoenix

The Author stood at the doorway to Muse’s office and sighed. Empty. It was deafeningly empty. Author sighed again and went over to the desk, trying to decide what to do. She wanted to work on the next project. But she needed Muse to help her with it. And Muse, was very clearly not there. Author frowned, trying to remember the last time she’d seen or talked to her. Phone call. That’s right, there was a call about something. Author scowled at the empty room, trying to remember what the call was about.

“IE sent her on vacation.” A voice said behind her.

Author turned.It was one of the Redshirts. He was bruised, bandaged from head to toe, and leaning on a cane. Author winched and forced a smile, trying to remember his name. Cole, that’s right, the one Muse asked her not to kill. Well, not in this story. Author smothered a cackle. There were always other stories to write, and situations to kill off Redshirts.

“I beg your pardon?” She tried to focus on what he’d said.

“IE sent her on vacation so you could finish the book without more shinys.” He shrugged.

“Did she say where?”

Cole shook his head and frowned. “Muse was really excited about it, though. Might want to ask IE, if you can get IE to tell you.” He turned and limped out of the room.

Author frowned. Muse hadn’t wanted him to be killed off. Perhaps, she’d spare him indefinitely. She glanced over the room sighed again and left.


IE; Internal Editor, also known as Number 1 and lately; the-damn-thing-that-won’t-shut-up, sat at the desk happily red penning the newly finished story. Author watched it for a moment, trying to gather herself. It looked like a child of two or three. Hair flopped over large eyes. Author had never assigned a gender to it. It simply was. And it had held her stalled on her latest project for years. It took being tied and trunked for Author to finally finish that project.

“Ok, IE, where’d you send her?” Author rested hands on hips. IE barely glanced her way, but smirked.

“Away. She’ll be gone a while. Long enough for you to work on the edits.”

Author screamed. She couldn’t help it. After all she’d just spent months plowing away at ONE story. She glared at IE, took a deep breath and screamed again. She wanted, no she craved something new, something different. Something…flashy, something shiny! IE stared at her with huge, overlarge eyes. It sat back in the chair and took a deep breath.

“I…I sent her to Daydream Paradise Beach.” It whispered. “On the Train of Thought.”

Author stared, aware that other story bits were peeking around the corner of the door to stare, wide eyed, into her office. Plot elements, Story Arcs, a couple redshirts, a main character and lined up in the doorway, noses twitching, were an assortment of plotbunnies. Author glared at them and they scattered faster than she’d seen them scatter before. She made a quiet note of it, for the next time the plots began to plod along. They could move faster, she’d seen them do it!

“I see.” Author shuffled through the paperwork on her desk looking for her phone. “You sent my Muse to a beach.” She found the phone, flipping it open and tapped in the number to the Train of Thought Vacation Offices.

“Well, I figured you needed some peace and,”

“You send a Muse to a tropical resort.” Author pinned a dark look at IE as the phone rang. “How in the hell are we going to cover the shipping costs for bringing back all her plotbunnies?”

IE looked horrified. “I hadn’t thought of that.” It whispered.

Author didn’t think it had. Muse had a very prolific imagination. The last time she went on vacation…when she returned Author had to hire contractors to widen the waiting room. Vacations were dangerous things in the hands of a Muse. She was about to remind IE of that when the operator picked up.

“Hi, yes, I need to book a single round trip to Daydream Paradise Beach. Yes of course! Immediately!” Author listened, scowled and pulled out her wallet. She glared at IE. “You owe me, BIG time for this one!”

IE ducked it’s head down, but said nothing. Author ignored it, turned and headed to her room to pack. She’d take her bathing suit, might as well catch some sun while looking for Muse. And a few extra plotbunny cages. Just in case.


Here is  the Forward Motion Flash Friday blog which lists other folks who do Flash Friday posts. 🙂


If you’d like to see other installments of the Inside the Author’s Mind series, they are available on Smashwords where, for the month of July, they’re free.*
Linked below; The coupon code is SSW50

The Shiny – With coupon is free
Redshirts – With coupon is free
Muse Interrupted – With coupon is free

Other Titles

The Magic Maker – With coupon is 50% off; $1.50
Playing For The Dead – With coupon is free
Help Never Came – With coupon is 50% off; $1.75
River Of Souls – With coupon is free

*They’re also available over at B&N, Amazon and Kobo, but they’re not free-with-coupon over there right now.

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TGIF? No, for me it’s Monday

My hubs only has one day off a week That was yesterday. So as everyone else is moving towards the weekend we’re just starting our new workweek. Blarg. That sums it up pretty well. So. Writing.

I’m currently (as in, in the other window) working on the final two installments of Inside The Author’s Mind, they’re going to be small, they average under 1k, so if I can get them done they’ll be up for Flash Fiction friday later today and next friday *crossing fingers*. Once those are done I’m hoping to compile them into a collection to have up in Sept. If they’re large enough I’ll see about putting together print versions. It may take some doing though, for the ISPNs. I’m considering a kickstarter or something like that to fund getting the ISPN numbers from Bowker. Or just tossing a donate button at the bottom of the page. We shall see.

If anyone has been paying attention to the bars on the **checks other tab** right side of the page, I’ve been puttering away at the first Zander book. I’m about 1/4 of the way through it and I think it’s coming along fairly well. I was thinking over the series itself and it struck me that there are going to be 4, possibly 5, in the whole series. The first three are the Northern Empire books and the last one(two) would be the grande finale/wrap up of that situation. So. 5 in the Zander series. **twitches**

I do need to come up with new titles for them…

I AM still working on getting E1 edited so I can serialize it. Which I’m still planning on doing. What the heck, right? It may be September (ahhh that month again) before I start serializing it. Or maye OCt. Not sure if I can swing it in Aug though. I may do a teaser chapter to see what people think.

Ok, in other pubbing news, Smashwords is holding a coupon special for the month of July. I’ve signed up all my titles for it. Linked below; The coupon code is SSW50

The Shiny – With coupon is free
Redshirts – With coupon is free
Muse Interrupted – With coupon is free
The Magic Maker – With coupon is 50% off; $1.50
Playing For The Dead – With coupon is free
Help Never Came – With coupon is 50% off; $1.75
River Of Souls – With coupon is free

In Aug I’m going to be compiling them into collections for a September release, and possibly pulling down the single titles. I’m undecided on this atm. We’ll see. I’m also working on some new covers (in my *haha* spare time)  and plan on going through the current titles for a typo hunt. Just a typo hunt/grammar fix, no story changes.

Anyways, time to wrap this up and finish the flash fiction stuff. Have a great weekend folks!

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Flash Fiction – The Shell

Ok this is weird. Just really…. yeah


The Shell
(c)2013 Necia Phoenix

She watches.

They’re gathered again, laughing, visiting. The bar-b-q is fired up and the beer and wine coolers are being handed out. The children run around, dirty, chalk covered, their laughter echoing through the canyons of apartments and houses. The little brown and black dog, the one with the missing eye and high pitched yap, is running around announcing to the world that he is there. They forgot about her again.

She comes out, book in hand. No one notices her. Not at first. She isn’t like them. She’s too quiet. Too withdrawn. She finds a spot, hiding in plain sight. Half hoping someone, anyone will come over and say hello. Acknowledge that they see her. Acknowledge that someone cares.

The bar-b-q goes on. The flurry of activity around her makes her heart beat faster, makes her palms sweaty. Too many bodies, too many voices. Too much noise.

Someone sees her, says hello. She looks up startled, starts to say hello back but the person flutters away before she can, a good deed done. After all they talked to her. She looks around, hopeful. But everyone is busy. Busy with their own dramas. She sighs, closes her book and goes back to her room. It’s not worth it. No one notices she’s gone.


She waits.

Once upon a time, the stories always start. And they end with the magical …and they lived happily ever after. But there is no ever after. No knight in shining armor to rescue her from mediocrocy. She works. Goes to school. Hopes to find someone, something that sees beyond the shell.

She wants someone to crack it. Pull it apart. Lay out the being, the rainbow that she is for all the world to see. But everyone else is waiting around, hoping for the same thing. No one bothers.

No one cares.

She begins to plan. To change. And is met with stiff resistance. She must conform to their way of doing things, even if they never bother to show they care.


She decides.

She is leaving. Going to another place, a fresh start, a fresh group of people. They’re angry. She’s abandoning them. She shrugs. They gave her no reason to stay. But they won’t hear that. They only hear what they want to hear.

She packs her things amidst howls of outrage and dismay. The bus leaves at 9pm. She promises to visit. Hugs them. Pets the damn dog, and walks towards the bus depot. She knows, and they know, she’s never coming back.


She discovers.

It is busy, day and night. The city lights, the cars, the parties, the life is almost more than she can bear. She finds places she can go, to be alone. Places she can hide from the busy and watch. And she finds she is not alone. There are others in her hiding place. Like-minded people. Rainbows in shells locked tight against society.

They are all hesitant at first. No one has bothered to care. They were not the cheerleaders. The jocks. The band members. They were the ones in the shadows, forgotten until someone needed tutoring, or a book. They are the ones society mocks.

They become family. Closer than blood can ever bring them. They know, they understand what it is like to be forgotten by the ones they want most to notice them. The shells begin to crack in big chunks.


She lives.

There were no letters from home. Though she sent her own. There were no phone calls, unless she made them. She got tired of not hearing back. Of not knowing. She decided to stop, see what would happen. And for a time she wondered if they would pick up the slack. But she was living. She was noticed by her new family. The ones who loved her and cared for her. She brushed aside, hid the hurt of rejection by her own flesh and blood.

She had a life to live.

And she did.


She remembers.

Someone asked her if she would ever go back.

No. She shakes her head. There is nothing to go back too.

They didn’t bother to find her. And she wasn’t interested in them.

She remembers too keenly, hurts too deeply.


She watches.
How much time passed? She’s forgotten. But the television is playing out a drama. The stars were those she’d left behind. Had she stayed it would have been her on that screen. She is tempted to call, find out for herself but her partner tells her it isn’t worth it. He takes the remote, changes the channel. Let’s watch something else, something happy.

She sits, listening to the chatter from the television, not really seeing what was on. He touches her hand and she starts to cry. Her rainbow dims, her heart broken. He holds her, saying nothing. Later than night she pens a letter, the first in years. In it she tells all, everything she couldn’t say. But it is too late. She goes to the patio and burns it.

They hadn’t cared before. She doubted they would now. She chose to live. Staring up at the sky she sighs and smiles. Her rainbow brightens, the shell is gone.




I have to say this is perhaps the oddest thing I’ve written. And that’s saying a lot.


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An update…

I’ve been thinking and writing and thinking. I think I’ve been thinking more than writing, but yanno how it goes.

I’m nearing the homestretch of The Fallen. the ‘short’ is now past 15k and I’ve got a good 5 or 6 scenes left to write. And I always write thin, so when I edit it, if it says under 30k I’ll be surprised. I like my twisted little fallen angel story. There’s something very… morbidly funny about it (in my head).

I’ve been considering doing a serial. I’m doing some research, I need/want to read over other serials to get an idea of how to do it. I have E1, all finished, waiting for some edits. The thought struck me, perhaps I could post it as a serial, say one or two chapters a week.

I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. Why? Well… Why not? I haven’t decided. I need to finish The Fallen first so I can totally focus on the Elemental Wars series.

And I need to write up a few flash fics so they’re ready to go when friday rolls around.

I’ve also been practicing drawing, taking a ‘class’ over at I discovered something kinda cool… I CAN draw a straight line! There’s this desire, this longing to do some of my stories as a comic/manga style thing. But again I’m not quite sure how I would go about doing that, and my drawing skills are not there yet. But seriously that would be cool.

Health and Fitness stuff:

We have a zoo membership, and I went twice last week, I went on Mon and I’m considering going tomorrow again if the weather is nice. I walk the perimeter  letting the little ones enjoy themselves while I trudge up and down hills pushing a stroller with twin toddlers who each weigh about 30lbs. Along with our change in diet and doing my resistance training, I’m working hard on getting healthier. My scale broke so I’m not sure where I sit weight wise.

And now I go to rally the troops to do their chores. Have a good day folks, friday isn’t far off!




A chase beyond the Palace walls…

Princess Chandra’s little companion dog loves to get loose at the most inopportune times. To keep him from being chained up permanently, she
chases after him and into a world of danger outside the palace walls.

Book is available at Smashwords, Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Kobo

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Flash Fiction Friday

Holy crap I got one done!!!  😀  Eventually this will get packaged with The Shiny, Redshirts, and Muse Interrupted. This is a continuation of that mini-flash series;


Editor In Chains

©2013 Necia Phoenix

Author sat back in her chair staring at the stack of papers in front of her. Done! Finally! The project was done! She blinked rapidly, fighting a surge of tears. It was powerful, it was heartbreaking at times. It was DONE. She pushed away from the desk, still cluttered with research, notes, several decks of playing cards, and a half filled Sudoku chart. She looked around, frowning. She needed to tell someone.

“IE! Where are you?” IE, Internal Editor. The creature which both helped and hindered her writing. She frowned looking around. Where had it gotten to?

There was a muffled sound, from somewhere behind her. She blinked remembering the swift struggle and grinned.

“Oh I forgot about that.”

She made her way to a stack of plastic bins, gripped one of the handles and pulled it aside. Big blue bins full of books and possibly some plotbunnies. Author was a bit wary about going through the bins. Plotbunnies were frighteningly resilient. Even if years had gone by, give them air, a touch of water and they were as frisky and bouncy as when she’d stuffed them, squirming and fighting, into the bins. Behind the bins was a door. Padlocked, chained, with a couple of wooden beams nailed to the frame.

“You still in there IE?”

The muffled noise sounded louder but she still couldn’t quite make it out. IE would be mad. No, not mad furious. At least until she shoved the manuscript into its hands. Then it would do what it did best. Shred it. She suppressed a shudder. It had to be done, to get it ready for the grand sendoff, but still…

She picked up the crowbar hanging next to the door and began prying the beams from across the doorway. It took time, more time than she thought it should have. She fumbled for her keys to unlock the several padlocks. One dropped to the ground with a clatter, the chain made an odd swishing noise as it too dropping in a pile to the floor. She got to the final lock turned it and pulled the door open.

The trunk was sitting in the middle of a cold room, damp and lightless. It moved every now and then, the lid rattling as IE pushed it from inside.

“How you doing in there?”


“You shouldn’t be so angry, you deserved to be put in there.” Author said, kneeling down and fiddled with the combination lock.

“MMph? MMmmmPH!”

Author shook her head. How could someone so bound put so much meaning into mmmph?


“Oh stop it.” Author muttered, letting the first padlock drop. The lid rattled violently. “You weren’t letting me finish my book, you know. Every little thing, every little word, you wanted me to agonize over it. Our cast isn’t going to live that long, you know. I had two redshirts die of old age waiting for you to make up your mind about that one scene. Old age!” She opened the lid, looking down at the bound and gagged IE who was glaring daggers out of its eyes. “Who has ever heard of a Redshirt dying of old age? I had to finish it.”

“Mmmph. Mmph.”

“Of course it’s not perfect, that’s what editing is for. But I’ll never be able to edit it if you don’t shut up and let me finish it!” She untied IE and helped it out of the trunk. It tore off the gag and glared.

“It probably sucks, you know. It’ll be riddled with problems, plot-holes and…”

“Well now that it is done you can go over it and red-pen it.” She stood up and motioned the open door. “But I have other projects to work on, you are going to cooperate this time. You got that?”

IE glared at her, not saying anything.

“Okay. You want to get back into the box?” Author lifted up the gag. “I can put you back.”


“Then agree.” Author crouched, eye to eye with IE. “I am the boss. It is MY story and you are a figment of my imagination. Either behave or you’ll be boxed and replaced.” She pointed to the bricked up wall in the back of the room. “Like that one was.”

IE’s nose flared but it nodded. “Fine.”

Author handed IE the red crayon. “The manuscript is sitting on the desk, all ready for your inspection.”

IE nodded, toddled out of the room, muttering under its breath. Author heard a muffled whimper behind her and glanced towards the bricked up door. She shrugged, turned, and walked from the room. That one wouldn’t let her get beyond the opening sentence. And it wouldn’t listen when she told it to knock it off.

She took a deep breath, it was time to find Muse. Author frowned. Muse had been awfully quiet. Her office would be packed to the brim with plotbunnies.

She closed the door, glanced towards the desk, and IE who was hunched over with the manuscript. She grinned. IE would be busy for a bit, she could start the selection process for the next project. She chuckled under her breath. Chaining the Internal Editor up while finishing the project had been the best idea she’d ever had. Now to talk with Muse about the next manuscript! She skipped down the hallway towards Muse’s station, dodging a couple dark blue plotbunnies. Yes, life was certainly looking up!



I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. 😀

For other Flash Fiction pieces you can check out my buddy S.E. Batt’s offering over here. Or Lazette Gifford’s piece over here. And for a list of participants click over here.

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Flash Fiction Friday – Not.

So I had this up for hours, half wrote a flash fiction and got bogged down by sick kids and a brain that was most disobedient. Darn the thing I kept falling asleep! I just read over the flash fic piece and I have no idea where the heck I was going with it. I’m sorry but I think I have to pass, again, on FFF. OF course it IS a moot point as it is now Saturday.

Anyways, I have been thinking and planning and mostly silent in the blogosphere, mainly because there is so much going on I am hesitant to go into too many details.

Today is the first of December and I think my plan for today is simply get my workout done and get another chapter of Crossroads written. I might even get a snip up here. I stress the might.

As for my december goals; Finish crossroads. That’s it.


Have a great Sat.

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Flash Fiction Friday

Ok, so today is Flash Fiction Friday, I do have an offering for you all. Firstly, here is a link to the other Forward Motion writers’ blogs, who are participating, here Now, this is actually the followup of the first flash fiction I wrote. #1 is over here. I didn’t realize when I wrote that one, that Rebecca was going to have any more to her story. I don’t know if there will be any more after this.

Flash Fiction Friday

Copyright 2012© Necia Phoenix

Holiday shopping, the deafening din of people buying things for relatives they only saw once a year, was giving me a horrendous headache. I leaned heavily against the crutches, wishing I’d gone ahead and taken the motorized chair. My sister cast worried looks my way, pushing the cart with our purchases through the holiday crowd.

“Are you sure you don’t need to sit down?” She asked. I forced a smile, I hurt, but we were so close to being done I wanted to finish and go home. Curl up on my sofa with the latest book, maybe sip some hot tea.

“Let’s get this done.” I glanced towards the front of the store. The lines stretched into the clothing display. I sighed.

“You go sit in the deli, and order us some drinks.” Susan handed me a twenty and made a shooing motion.


“Give me your list, you only have two more things, I’ll grab them, you get off your feet.” She made a shooing motion at me. I nodded, stuffing the twenty into my pocket. “I want a cola!”

“Okay.” I turned slowly, carefully maneuvering around a few children, and a couple talking in loud and angry voices. The way seemed far longer than it looked. I was almost to the deli when the crutch slipped and felt myself falling, too stiff to catch myself. An arm slipped around my waist, holding me up and I found myself looking up at an oddly familiar man. His dark eyes concerned. The clatter of the crutch seemed far away as he helped me upright and then fetched it.

“Are you all right?” He asked. His voice was deep and familiar. For a moment I heard sirens, smelled gasoline.

“I’m just off balance.” I took the crutch, noticed my hands shaking. I finished adjusting the right spot for the crutch and he came around to my other side, offering me his arm. I shook my head. “Thank you, but I’m fine, really. I’m going right over there.” I pointed to the ugly orange booths of the deli.

“Take my arm, Rebecca, and don’t argue with me.”  His voice was very low, almost a whisper.

I stared at him, swallowed, and did as he instructed. I was tempted to swat him with the crutch but I was afraid I’d fall again, my balance was shot. The silence was awkward and I hobbled to the booth. He helped me into the seat, and headed up to the counter. I wanted to protest, but wasn’t fast enough. He came back, set the three cups on the table, and slid into the booth across from me.

“You,” I stared at him. The words stuck, frozen in my throat. It was crazy, unreal. He was far too good looking. He would fit well on the cover of one of the books I had waiting for me at home.

“I called 911.” He said, sipping at his drink. “Are you healing well?”

I leaned back in my seat. This was the wolf? My wolf? A whispered ‘You’re welcome’ echoed in my mind. “The doctors are pleased with my progress.” I said, haltingly unable to look away. He’d saved my life, twice. How did one talk to their rescuer? “What was that thing in the road?”

“Here is not the place to talk about that.” He said. He smiled. “Perhaps we can discuss it another time, in a less crowded place.”

“All right.” I forced myself to sip at my soda, looking towards the table, mind racing. What to say, the questions I had seemed silly to ask. Do you always turn into a wolf? Are there more of you? Stupid. The noise of the holiday shoppers began to seep into the calm. “Are you doing Christmas shopping too?” I was flailing inside, uncomfortable. He was watching me, intensely with those dark eyes.

He laughed, easy going. “My alpha sent us for some more plastic bandages.”

“Us? Bandages?”  Alpha? I bit my lip, holding back the questions. This was not the place to discuss it but I wanted to know. There was another world, within the one I lived in and I had a glimpse of it.

“My brother and I are on pup duty. The pups wanted special bandages.” He lifted up a blue plastic bag filled with several boxes inside, each featuring popular cartoon characters. He leaned forward. “We heal fast. Very fast, but they’re pups and love cartoons, so we thought we’d indulge them.”

I laughed, I couldn’t help it. The idea of little wolf pups with cartoon character bandages on them was too funny. He grinned, sipped at his soda and looked past me. He slid a small scrap of paper across the table.  “I have to go now. Be careful, Rebecca, especially at night.

He slid from the booth, took his cup and squeezed my shoulder. “Go slower on the turns.”

“I don’t plan on driving any time soon.” I said, looking up at him. The easy familiarity confused me. I didn’t know him, yet I was comfortable with the gentle hand on my shoulder. Anyone else I would swat their hand away.

“Don’t give it up, just because of this.” He said. He squeezed my shoulder again and strode away. When I turned I couldn’t see him, the crowd of shoppers too dense. I turned back, looking at the scrap of paper. A phone number was scrawled on it and underneath it, a note;

If you see one of those things again, or hear of one, do not hesitate to call me. Lucien

“Oh why did we decide to shop today?” Susan asked. She sank into the seat across from me and lifted the soda.

“To get it over and done with, so we can sit back and laugh at everyone else who waits till the last minute.” I tucked the paper into my wallet. I wasn’t ready to tell her about Lucien yet. She wouldn’t believe me anyways.

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Flash Fiction Friday #3

I have this space operaish idea and this piece of fiction is set on the ship Nausica.  Hope you enjoy it;

Flash Fiction Friday #3

© 2012 Necia Phoenix

“Catch it!” Amber screamed. She and Jake dove after the flash of bright green and pink that vanished behind the boxes in the hold. They moved boxes and bags, trying to be careful but not lose sight of the rare and expensive snake.

“Where’d it go?” Jake demanded after they’d cleared the corner. They stared at each other in horror. It was gone.

Amber looked around, heart pounding. “It’s got to be in here, somewhere.” Linz, the captain of the ship, was going to kill her. Slaughter her. No live cargo. That was the rule. And Amber broke the rule. For a snake. Linz hated snakes. Not even an exotic, bio-engineered snake that glowed under a black light would be allowed.

“She’s going to kill me.” Amber whispered.

“Lets not jump too conclusions. Lynz isn’t that bad.”

“Bullshit.” Amber whispered.

“Think. The doors are closed, we put the mesh over the vents, where else could it have gone?” Jake appeared to be about as panicked as she felt.

They’d rearranged the cargo hold in a panic, looking for the creature when they realized it got loose.

“We have to find it.” Amber whispered.

“I know.” Jake pulled a flat com unit and slid his finger across the screen. Lights flickered and he lifted it up, turning in a slow circle. “Huh.”


“No heat signature.”

“Oh no.”

“Check the crates, make sure it didn’t get into one, and..”

“Are you looking for something?” A deep voice asked. Amber cringed, glancing over her shoulder. Second in Command, Gabriel, stood just inside the door.

“Shit, get out of the doorway, let the doors close before it gets loose!” Even as Amber spoke, she saw the flash of green slide between Gabriel’s feet, out the hold door, and into the hallway beyond. Jake was moving all ready, swearing as he went.

“There it goes!”

“What the hell was that?” Gabriel eyed Amber.

“Gabe, my project,” she faltered. “We have to catch it before Linz does.” She pushed past him. Jake was halfway to the control room. He stopped at the doorway, looking back at Amber.

“Linz is downside for another hour.” Gabe leaned the wall, arms crossed. “If you find it before she gets back, I might not mention this in my report.”

Jake jabbed the control panel, sliding through the doorway before the door finished opening.

“You gonna help us look?” Amber asked Gabe.

He grinned at her. “Nope. It’s your project.”

“Jerk.” She muttered, and followed Jake inside.

“He’s an ass.” Jake whispered. They crouched, looking under the large command desk and sidebar table.

“”As long as he doesn’t tell Lynz, I don’t care. Where the hell did it go?”

Jake pulled the scanner again and searched. “Not here. Vents. Crap. Two uncovered vents here,” he pointed. “And here.”

“It could be anywhere in the ship.” Amber slowly stood, defeated.

Jake gritted his teeth and left the room. Amber followed him. What the hell was she going to do? She’d spent a pretty penny for that snake. Almost two whole paychecks. If Lynz found it…

“Can the computers do a full scan of the ship for heat sigs?” Jake asked Gabe.

“It can, but there might not be enough time to make the adjustments.” Gabe was already moving towards the bridge. Amber had to half run to keep up with him. Leigh and Kurt were both on duty when they entered the bridge.

“Kurt I need you to do a full heat signatures scan of the ship. Amber’s project got loose.” Gabe said going over to his station.

“What kind of project?”

“Just do the scan Kurt.” Amber said. Kurt shot her a disgusted look, but his hands flew over the controls. On the small viewing panel next to him, the schematics of the ship flashed by, level by level, with the heat sigs of the crew in bright reddish orange. On the last one, the officers quarters, a pale white mark pulsed.

“That’s the captain’s quarters.” Kurt looked up at Gabe “What is that?”


“Even more, Captain’s signal is coming through.” Leigh announced, tone amused.

Gabe nodded towards the view-screen. It flared to life, Linz’s face dominated the room.

“Gabe, I need you station-side.” Linz said. Amber caught sight of two men behind her, heads together and talking.


“Guy named George says he knew mom.” Lynz glanced over her shoulder. “I need an assessment of these guys.”

Gabe nodded. “I’ll be there shortly.”

“Be ready to ship off when we get back. I have a feeling things may get a bit exciting.”


The screen went black, and Amber took off. She rushed out the door, down the steps and hall to the officer’s quarters. Her hands trembled as she worked the access code. She was maintenance, had the clearance. The door slid open and she crept into Linz’s tidy room. Larger than the standard rooms, the Captain’s quarters came equipped with a bathing chamber and observation window over the bed; sheer luxury. And curled up on Linz’s large, fancy pillows was the snake.

Amber hurried over to the creature. It’s got to be a girl. She likes luxury. Amber thought as she picked the snake up, whispering to her. She didn’t try to slither away as Amber carried her to the door. Gabe stepped into the doorway with crossed arms, and a scowl.

“Captain ain’t back yet.” She said, trying her best little girl voice.

“You’ll have half an hour to get that thing in your quarters, and get the holds fixed and ready to go.”

“Consider it done.” Jake said, patting the taller man as he dashed down the hall.

“Gabe,” Amber hesitated.

“Make sure it can’t escape, again. Understood?” He didn’t wait for an answer, he, turned and left.

Amber slipped from the captain’s quarters, secured the door and regarded her pet with a smile. “So now, back to what we were discussing, what am I going to name you?”



Go here to enjoy other flash fiction pieces! 😀  There is some great stuff over there.

Have a great weekend folks!!


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Flash Fiction Friday #….uh…2?

This piece was written in 2007, all I know is it was in a folder called Atrioth. I vaguely remember it, but I don’t know where I was taking it. There may be more to this story. It has been tightened up a bit.


Flash Fiction Friday #2

Copyright 2012 Necia Phoenix

An infant wailed in its mother’s arms. The tribe gathered closely, and was, Kergon thought, a bit too anxious to see the final verdict of his brother’s trial. He glanced towards his brother, Anaron, who stood with his hands tied in front of him. The rope so tight, his fingers were purple. Kergon tried to meet his eyes but Anaron’s gaze was fixed on some point beyond the river.

“Don’t, Kergon, you’ll just make it harder on us all.” Eitys, Kergon’s other brother, hissed into his ear.

“This is wrong. He has done nothing…”

“Shut up. We’ll next if you don’t.” Eitys hit him on the back of the head. The crowd stirred and parted, giving way to a tall, gaunt man. He stepped up to Anaron, peering at him with narrowed eyes. Kergon frowned. Until yesterday, he too, would have been in awe of The Shaman. He’d respected him. Now, it took every ounce of self-control to not tear him apart.

The Shaman turned his head, peering at Kergon and Eitys. Kergon fancied The Shaman was reading his thoughts. Kergon hoped he could; he wanted The Shaman to see himself laying torn and bloodied on the cold ground. How dare he accuse his flesh and blood!

“”You have been caught using majki. A crime punishable by death…”

Whispers erupted, someone protested though was hushed by nearby tribesmen. Kergon smirked and met The Shaman’s eyes. Anaron was a popular man, a good hunter, and a provider. His death would not be easily achieved even if he had used majki. The Shaman narrowed his eyes, and raised his hands, not breaking the glare with Kergon.

Can you see what I am thinking, old man? Will you commit yourself to death if you expose me and yourself?  Kergon felt it then. Fear. From The Shaman. Radiating towards him, fear and hate. Kergon inhaled, heart pounding.

You will slip up. Like Anaron. The Shaman’s voice echoed in his head.

I am a Seeker. Like my sire, I can be forgiven. Can you? Kergon imagined The Shaman, impaled on his own staff. The man’s face paled and he looked away. No. He was supposed to stamp out majki, not use it himself. Only the Seekers could get away with it. Anaron, though, was no Seeker.

“Instead of death,” The Shaman’s voice was strong, though he gave no indication that he and Kergon had crossed minds. “It’s decided, by the gods, that Anaron shall be exiled.”

Kergon blinked reeling in relief. Eitys hissed something under his breath. Kergon felt the light mental touch against his mind as Eitys made a few suggestions. Kergon smiled. This wasn’t as bad as he feared it would be.

“If any wish to accompany the accused, do not expect to return any time soon.” The Shaman glared at Kergon.

Kergon shrugged it off and stepped beside Anaron.

“Ker no, stay…” Anaron began to protest.

“No.” Eitys took a place beside Anaron. “We’ll leave this nest of backstabbers and snakes. We’d have no safety here anymore.”

Silence stretched. Eitys flashed a grin at Kergon and cut the leather straps that bound Anaron’s wrists. Kergon turned toward The Shaman.

“You wanted us gone. We leave. Consider this though, who will hunt for you now? Perhaps if they get a good kill, like Anaron, you’ll accuse them of majki.” The crowd stirred, whispering. “Who is willing to take that chance?” Kergon rested his spear on his shoulder and gave a mocking bow to the crowd. He turned without another look back at the people who had been his clan, and followed Anaron down the footpath to the river. A small raft bobbed in the gentle current, tugging against its moors.

“You two would go into exile with me?” Anaron turned to look at them. His voice was a bare whisper, thick with emotion. “There is nothing in the wilds, no future for either of you.”

“We’ll follow you into hell and back if need be.” Eitys clasped his shoulder. “We stick together, brother. Always have, always will.”

“There is nothing here for us anymore.” Kergon shrugged and pointed at the raft. “Let’s go.”

Anaron looked back and forth between them.


The End…?

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