Nett’s Shorts

Interminable Do you believe in reincarnation?  What if we were sent back time and time again until we achieved a life of worth?  Stuck in an endless cycle of death and rebirth, Daniel has given up hope of ever being good enough. Excerpt:      When a bright light became visible at the end of the tunnel, he fought against it in panicked desperation, but the increasing pressure was too much for his frail form to overcome.  The first breath that entered his lungs was expelled with a screeching cry of frustrated anger and despair.  Latex covered hands poked and prodded as he continued to wail, then cocooned him in warmth insufficient to soothe his misery.       “Do you want to hold him?” someone asked.       “No,” came another voice, feeble but adamant.  “Take it away.”       The rejection was nothing compared to the torturous memories temporarily remaining in his possession.  ...

Bedeviling Bethany lives with a bully she can’t escape, constantly tormented at every turn.  There is only one way she can make it stop, but will it really end the bedeviling? Excerpt:      “Are there problems at home?” Andrews asked, staring pointedly at her bruised cheek.      As she had spent the duration of the meeting sobbing in the bathroom, the concealer was long gone.  Despite his concern, it was clear he wasn’t pleased with her.      “N-no, sir.”      “If you need help…”      “No, sir.  I-I fell.  That’s all.”      “So there’s nothing going on to interfere with your work?”      Twisting a soggy tissue in her hands, she evaded his probing eyes.  “N-no, sir.”      Andrews leaned back in his chair, his brows drawing together even more when its sharp squeak made Bethany jump.  “You’re sure.”      “Y-yes, sir.”  ...

  Eyes Like Whiskey Gwen is an outcast.  People keep their distance because she calls a pack of wolves family - except for the hunters who come way too close!  When someone new moves to town, she hopes to finally make a connection.  Will he accept her for who she is? Excerpt:      Her old grandfather clock chimed a third time as they broke from each other, satiated and damp with sweat.      “Damn, Gwen.  You’re gonna [unalive] me before long,” he panted.      “But you’ll [expire] with a smile on your face,” she teased, draping a slim leg over his.      “That I will.  That I will.”  He mindlessly caressed her thigh, finding again the long scabby strip he had been too preoccupied to ask about earlier.  “What happened here?”      “Oh that?  Just a scrape.”       She tried to move her leg away, but Mike wouldn’t let go.  “A deep one by the fee...

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 soo...

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?”   ...

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.     ...

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 ...