Nett’s Shorts

Bones After careening off a mountain road in the midst of a brutal winter, Brandon is found and nursed back to health by a reclusive bear of a man.  A man with secrets. Excerpt:     Careful not to touch them, lest the man notice a change in their position, he limped the length of the shelf they sat upon to examine the array of specimens.  He wasn’t knowledgeable of such things, but some seemed rather new.  The word ‘fresh’ came to mind.  Others appeared a bit older, with a handful giving the impression of being quite aged.  Each were adorned with an etched design too hard to make out in the poor light.  No matter what angle he viewed them, nor how much he squinted, he couldn’t determine what it was the man had carved into them. Giving up, he decided to investigate other parts of the cabin.  It didn’t take long to realize there was nothing else of interest to see, so he returned to his pallet - where he soon found his gaze wandering back to the shelf. “Nope!” He turned away

Sanguine Fare Trapped in an abusive home, Emma’s only source of happiness is her garden.  Gifted with the ability to understand their needs, all her botanical friends flourish - except for one. Excerpt:      The next morning, the state of her garden was not much improved.  The plants he had not damaged were still wary, and those he had projected a constant keening.  She spent time with each of them, nursing and pampering, trying with little success to regain the sense of peace they once shared.      She eventually knelt before the bundle of thorns and was shocked to find a crimson bud sheltering beneath the swatch of fabric she had not bothered to remove the day before.      “Where did you come from?”      There was something else new.  It was hungry!  Thrilled, she reached for the watering can, but stopped when she sensed its repulsion.      “What is it you want then, dear one?”      Fidgeting with the cloth as she pondered, a stiff spot caused her to look down.  A dark brown stain wa

An Unfortunate Accident Suffering from a severe case of writer’s block, Graham Dixon does the unthinkable to inspire his next bestseller.  Will the price he has to pay cost him everything? Excerpt:   My temper, which had been simmering since the interview, began to boil as I stared at the blank screen.  Nothing.  Not one [darn] word.   “Passive aggressive [witch],” I muttered, slamming the laptop closed and pushing away from my desk.  “Favorite author, my [behind].”   I collapsed onto the couch, too exhausted to bother with food despite my growling stomach.  Unbeckoned images swirled in my mind in the space between wakefulness and slumber, thwarted from infecting my dreams by a sudden thwack against my patio door.  Shaky with adrenaline, it took me a minute to get up to see what it was.   A large conch shell lay broken on my deck.  I opened the door and felt along the glass, then scanned the beach.     The sand was littered with a scattering of people oblivious to

Wakeful Echoes A sequel to More Time to Dream.  Wren woke up next to the man who held her heart - or did she?  There is a forgotten reality beyond the idyllic world of her dreams.  Can she find her way back?  Does she want to? Excerpt: Now that I knew of my dual existence, I became aware of the parts of this one that were missing, things which had never crossed my mind due to how complete I felt with Nicolai.  Family.  Friends.  Occupation.  Perhaps their lack was what caused me to start filling the empty void of my forgotten reality with daydreams.  While in the throes of imagination, I would sometimes hear more echoes of those who presumably loved me, even the occasional phantom touch which seemed to tug ever so gently. Then Nicolai would regain my focus, making me wonder why I had ever been thinking of anything or anyone else but him, and I would ignore their siren call - until the next time my mind would wander.   A light hand on my shoulder startled me out of one such reveri

  Ripples of Fate Bree is plagued with morbid visions she can do nothing about.  Will she find a way to change the inevitable - or will fate have the last laugh? Excerpt:      Wind whipped my hair and spritzed me with sea spray as I stood on a stretch of beach strewn with boulders.     Offshore, waves spouted like geysers against a breakwater.   Scanning the sunbathers and swimmers dotting the landscape, my eye was drawn to a boy of about ten hanging on a raft.     His vigorous kicks churned the water behind him, propelling him farther from the shore.      “Andy!     Not too far out, now!” a woman yelled from the water’s edge.   “Andy!” she bellowed when he ignored her.      “Aw, Mom!”       He was wobbling to and fro, slowly changing course, when the raft flipped over in a whirlpool of bubbles.      “ANDY!!!”      The woman ran into the water, faltering at the sight of a large dorsal fin slicing the surface.     Face pale with terror, she dove in.      A shrill volley of whistles came

A Different Me Isabelle and her sister planned a weekend in Vegas to escape their humdrum lives.  Creating new personas to amp up the fun, they end up with more adventure than they bargained for. Excerpt:      “Hello, Chantelle.”     His manner was different from before, menacing to be exact, adding to her unease.        “Umm, Johnny, right?”  She took a furtive glance around the empty hallway.  “I was just getting ready to call it a night.”      “Can’t let you do that,” he said, looming over her.  “The night’s just getting started.      She juggled the ice bucket between them.  “Listen, I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression…”      “This isn’t about you and me,” his eyes roamed up and down her body, “not that I hadn’t given it some thought.”      The door to her room opened, revealing Jennifer clad in flannel pajamas.  “Izz, everything okay?”      “Everything’s fine, isn’t it Chantelle?” he asked, mistaking ‘Izz’ for ‘is’.       “I-I-I’m going inside.  Goodnight.”      She slipp

Phantom Memories A young man has moved into my home.  Despite being unaware of my haunting presence, he is helping me discover who I am - and what happened to me. Excerpt:      “Is this her?” Sybil asks, holding one of the pictures from the mantel.      The doorbell rings and Amy goes to answer as Matt replies, “Yeah, that’s her.”      “She was pretty!”      “Yes, she was.”      All eyes turn toward the speaker and my buoyant mood sinks when I see who Amy has ushered in.      “Guys, this is Matt’s next door neighbor, Charles.”      After a round of greetings, Sybil asks, “You knew her?”      He takes the picture from her, looking at my image with an inscrutable expression.  “I did.”        “Could you tell us about her?”      As curious as I am, I have no desire to hear myself described by my killer.  Wandering off, I end up at the study.  I’ve come here a few times since that night, but still haven’t ventured inside.  Occasionally an image will flash before my eyes, brief but potent.  

One Too Many Sunsets Charlene was wagered like chattel, gambled away by her husband to be used and abused by hard men.  If she never saw him again it would be too soon, but he has something of hers - something she aims to get back! Excerpt:      She set up camp and waited, her spirits sinking with the sun as it finally fell below the horizon.  Fear and anger kept her from succumbing to exhausted slumber despite the moon’s steady progress across the starlit sky.  She felt no relief when at last someone approached, for it wasn’t her husband.  Rising from her perch near the fire, she aimed her [weapon] at the rider.      “Thar’s no need to be pointin’ that thar [weapon] at me.  I’m here to fetch ya for yer husband.”      “And why hasn’t he come himself?”      The man scratched his whiskers, the unsettling sound chafing her jangled nerves.  “Well, I’d tell ya, but he’s a wantin’ it to be a surprise fer ya.”      Her hand wavered, but she did not lower the [weapon].  “You’ll forgive me, sir

More Time to Dream Wren is cheating on her husband with the man of her dreams.  Literally.  Nicolai has always accepted he had to share Wren with the waking world, but what will he do when their time together is threatened? (This story continues in Wakeful Echoes. ) Excerpt:      He joined me at the water’s edge, lifting my chin to look in my eyes.  “It’s time you told me.”        “Told you what?” I evaded, trying to avoid his stare.      “Wren.”      He never called me Wren.  My eyes locked with his and what I saw in them broke my heart.  I burst into tears.  “I’m so sorry, Nicolai!”      “Tell me.”      And so I did.  Between hiccuping sobs, I told him everything, ending with Tom’s proposal.      “Does he make you happy?”      “Not like you!  Nothing like you!”      “Wren.  Does he make you happy?”      I couldn’t look at him anymore.  Couldn’t witness the hurt I had caused him.  Turning away, I whispered, “Yes.”      “Then marry him.”      “What?!”  The shock made me face him once m

Missing Wings Humans have freewill.  Do the divine?  What opportunities would they encounter?  What would come of their choices?  Here is one possibility. Excerpt:      Her words hit him like a thunderbolt.  “You’re one of us!”  He shook his head, marveling.  Then the pieces fell into place and he clutched the hand holding his.  “You couldn’t go back!”      She gave his hand a final squeeze, then reached for a picture frame sitting on the end table.  “No, but I’ve never regretted it,” she said, looking at the photo with a proud smile.  “It’s going to be a challenge explaining all of this to her.  She doesn’t know her lineage.  Aaden wanted her to have as normal of a childhood as possible.”      He was stunned yet again.  “Your husband knows about us?  About,” he waved his hand, “everything?”      “Of course!  I wouldn’t have married him on a lie!”      Raphael was humbled by both of them.  “He sounds like an extraordinary man.”      Her expression softened.  “He is.  We have a good lif

Grisly Cravings When Jody was a child, she loved spending summers on her grandfather’s farm.  The wholesome lifestyle was an enjoyable reprieve from the city; that is, until they unearthed a ghastly spore. Excerpt:      I kept quiet the rest of the drive to town, hoping I could find someone to express my concerns to while we were there.  That hope was dashed upon our arrival.  The market was busy, but the normally cordial shoppers were all single minded in their purpose - buying meat.  Grampa, who I’ve seen give a needy neighbor his last dollar, nearly knocked over a pregnant woman as he shouldered his way through to the display case.  Grabbing two large roasts, he headed toward the cashier.      The grocery line was where the townsfolk shared news and spread gossip, but not today.  It was tense and silent.  An unmistakable trace of black sludge was on the neck of the person in front of us, making me think of how that cloud had grown and divided.  Had it kept doing that?  Was it still?