Category Archives: Flash Fiction

Write a Story with Me – Part 14 – Plans and Schemes – What will he do? with Richard Leonard

Hello there!  If your new over here, Write a Story with me is a little idea I came up with for my Blogiversary.  It’s a story I started in mid July, and a different author ever week adds an additional 250-ish words to the story.  When they are done, the next person gets tagged and they are on their way!

It’s great fun because it’s a super flash-fiction challenge, because you NEVER KNOW what you’re going to get hit with.  You can’t plan, because you don’t know what kind of curve-ball the person in front of you will throw.

Sound like fun?  It is!

If you’d like to catch up, a list of the previous segments is below.

Today, we have Richard Leonard up at bat.  Take it away, Richard!

14 (Richard Leonard)

Yoran fought the urge to crush the evil little monster hovering just beyond arm’s reach. He guessed Janosc spoke in a falsetto voice to put him off guard, which it certainly did. Staring fiercely at the disgusting wasp-like creature buzzing before him, he knew what was to eventuate and could see no way to avoid it.

“What do you want? Speak quickly, we have little time.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”, said Jonasc in his normal gruff voice. “You’ve seen this before, Yoran. You know it’s terminal. I can help heal your daughter… but only if you help protect my world.”

“How?”

“Well… it involves taking her to through the Portal. However, I’m not sure if I’m prepared to do so. It’s a big risk for us.”

The color of Yoran’s face deepened as the veins in his neck swelled. How dare this vile bug hold his precious little Marci to ransom. Her life traded for the promise of allowing the beetle fairies and their world to thrive in his beloved county? For any other father the decision would be easy. But Yoran can never be seen to have made such a choice. Marci’s sacrifice would be expected of him.

SO… does he save Marci or not?  Hop on over to Richard’s site to read the rest of his section.  Have fun!  http://richardleonard.wordpress.com/2012/10/01/write-a-story-with-jennifer-m-eaton-part-14

If you’d like to sign up, come on over.  There’s always room for more!

Part One – Jennifer M. Eaton

Part Two – J. Keller Ford

Part Three – Susan Roebuck

Part Four – Elin Gregory

Part Five – Eileen Snyder

Part Six – Mikaela Wire

Part Seven — Vanessa Chapman

Part Eight — Ravena Guron

Part Nine – Vikki Thompson

Part Ten — Susan Rocan mywithershins

Part Eleven — Kate Johnston  AKA 4AMWriter

Part Twelve — Julie Catherine

Part Thirteen — Kai Damian

Part Fourteen — Richard Leonard

Don’t forget to stop by next week to see what happens next.

 Sharon Manship —- TAG!  You are “It”

A Tribute to Fallen Police Officer Bradley M. Fox, and his Partner, Nick

The following is a work of fiction based on actual events in the Philadelphia area in September of 2012 where Police Officer Brad Fox lost his life over a senseless traffic incident. I based this story off news articles and testimony from acquaintances. Unfortunately the only surviving witness, Officer Nick, is unable to tell anyone what really happened.

I apologize for any facts that may be wrong. Nothing contained within is meant to be disrespectful in any way. I just felt like this story needed to be told.

I lean up as Brad turns the lights on atop the patrol car. People step back as the sirens mark our arrival.

“Keep your eyes open, Nick,” Brad says.

I nod and scan the crowd. Too many. No one looks hurt.

Brad rolls down the window. A bystander approaches.

“He went that way,” the man says, pointing toward to woods. “He just slammed into that car and ran.”

Brad pulls over. I watch as he checks on the injured. He opens the car door.

“Heads up, Nick. Let’s go.”

We run together down the path into the woods. Two joggers run out at us. “He’s down there!” a woman screams. “He’s got a gun!” Tears stream down her cheeks.

Gun. The hair on my back stands up. Protect.

“Head back out the path and get out of the woods,” Brad instructs them. He nods to me. “We need backup, Nick.”

Bang! A gunshot echoes through the forest. I jump in front of Brad as he slips behind a tree. Another shot rings out, but from where?

There. High on the hill. In the tall grass. I growl. The perp well within my sight.

“Easy Nick,” Brad says. “He’s got high ground.”

Bang!

Gun! I tear up the hill toward the movement in the grass.

Bang!

Ouch!

I fall to the ground. My left thigh screams. Slicing pain echoes through my body.

Protect Brad. I jump to my feet and stumble. My leg throbs.

The perp stands, pushing aside the grass as he points the gun at me. “Die stupid mutt!” he screams.

Bang! A shot passes my ears. I hold my place, growling. The Perp’s eyes open wide, and a dark spot appears on his chest, and stains outward.

Good shot, Brad!

The perp stumbles, and raises his gun.

No! Protect Brad!

I lunge, grabbing the perp’s wrist in my mouth. The gun goes off, rattling my head. Deaf and ears ringing, I bite down. The weapon discharges again, and the perp stops struggling.

Another dark spot appears on his chest. The smell of blood fills my nose. Blood and death. I release my hold.

We got him, Brad.

I limp down the hill, each step sending a jolt of pain through my hip and back.

Brad. I’m hit, Brad… Brad?

Brad is lying on the ground, his gun beside him. I flop next to him, and nose his cheek.

Brad? I nuzzle his hand. Blood. He smells like blood. No!

I whimper, and cuddle beside him. He doesn’t move. Protect Brad.

A noise atop the hill breaks past the ringing in my ears. I try to stand, but my hip burns. I take a step. Pain. I want to lay down, but I can’t.

Protect Brad. Guard the perp.

I struggle up the hill. The perp lay in the grass where I left him. His eyes now vacant. The smell of death lingers.

My ears perk up as I hear voices.

Backup.

I scamper down the hill as fast as my legs can carry me. I stumble and fall, but push myself up. Pain. No. Don’t worry about the pain.

I bark three times, digging my paws into the dirt. My leg shakes, and I raise my back leg. I bark again.

“Over here!” an officer calls.

I limp to Brad, but he still doesn’t move. Help’s here, Brad. Help’s here.

Two officers lean over Brad. Others hold their weapons, looking into the trees.

I need to do my duty.

I bark once, and they turn to me. I limp up the hill. They follow, weapons at the ready. I sit beside the body of the perp.

I got him. I got him for you, Brad.

Canine Officer Nick was found pacing back and forth between his partner and the shooter, continuing to do his duty: protecting his partner, and marking where the shooter fell, despite a gunshot wound of his own.

Officer Bradley Fox died of a single gunshot wound to the head. He is survived by his pregnant wife Lynsay and their young daughter.

The shooter was found dead with two gunshot wounds to the chest, at least one presumably self-inflicted.

Canine Officer Nick was treated for a gunshot wound, a graze to the left hip, and was released in time to attend Brad Fox’s funeral.

At the time this story was written, plans were being made for Canine Officer Nick to be retired. Nick hopes to live with Brad’s wife Lynsay, their young daughter, and the new baby on the way.

The next time you see a police officer, remember to thank them for protecting us. These people put their lives on the line every day.

Write a Story with Me – Part 13 with Kai Damian – Laser guns? and WHAAAAT?

Here’s part thirteen, also known as HOLY FREAKING COW!

Dang, Kai.  Bring it girlfriend.

Now this is getting interesting.  Glad I’m not next!

“Can’t find anything wrong with her,” said the doctor after prodding and probing Marci’s frail body with a series of medigadgets. Behind him, Marci’s parents watched their daughter lie unconscious, her breath so shallow that they could have sworn no air was reaching her lungs.

“Then why isn’t she waking up?” Marci’s father asked. His wife broke into sobs as she sat next to her daughter and caressed her frozen cheek.

With trembling hands, the doctor packed his medigadgets away. “I’m sorry Protector Sumner, I wish I had an answer for you.” He watched Marci for a few moments, a wave of anguish washing over his face, then finally said, “Let’s give her twenty-four hours, and if she doesn’t wake up, we’ll take her in.”

“No, you can’t take her in, I won’t let you—”

“Natalia, please,” Marci’s father said, ending his wife’s lament with an icy stare. She lowered her gaze back on her daughter, silently acknowledging the mistake she almost made: rebel against the Establishment’s Rules under one of its servants’ eyes.

Nobody can tell the Establishment what they can and cannot do. What they can take. When they can take it. Even if the taken is someone’s child. It was a Rule solemnly recorded in the Tablet of Truth, which no planetary raider had ever defied.

Marci’s father thanked the doctor and showed him out, then rushed back to his daughter’s room.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he said gently, and kissed his wife’s forehead.

Natalia shook her head and squeezed his hand. “You did the right thing, dear,” she whispered and wiped off another tear. “But we need to bring her back, Yoran, before they can take her. I don’t think I can survive another Recall.” She rose to her feet with a pant, holding her belly with both hands. “I’ll go make some tea, you stay with her and think about our options,” she said and left lifeless Marci alone with her father.

He sat next to Marci and caressed her cheek. “Oh poppet, why won’t you come back?” he whispered and leaned his forehead against his daughter’s cold hand.

“Perhaps I can be of service.” The tiny voice reminded him of the crystal wind chimes hanging outside his daughter’s window. Hand on his laser gun, he turned around.

“What the—” were the only words he had time to utter before the sight of the enemy rendered him speechless. Speechless, but not mindless. Because in that moment, Yoran Sumner knew that the creature before him—the one he had learned to hate since he was a little boy—was about to turn him into a Rule breaker.

If you’d like to sign up, come on over.  There’s always room for more!

Part One – Jennifer M. Eaton

Part Two – J. Keller Ford

Part Three – Susan Roebuck

Part Four – Elin Gregory

Part Five – Eileen Snyder

Part Six – Mikaela Wire

Part Seven — Vanessa Chapman

Part Eight — Ravena Guron

Part Nine – Vikki Thompson

Part Ten — Susan Rocan mywithershins

Part Eleven — Kate Johnston  AKA 4AMWriter

Part Twelve — Julie Catherine

Part Thirteen — Kai Damian

Don’t forget to stop by next week to see what happens next.

Richard Leonard —- TAG!  You are “It”

Flash Fiction Friday on Wednesday – He had to Run

This is the character study I did for my character “David” in my new WIP, Fire in the Woods.  This scene will not be in the novel, but this is how he comes into my MC’s life.

David jumped and landed on the soft turf.  A trail of desolation lay behind him:  fallen trees, scorched soil, and burning branches.  Sparks drifted over his head, silent among the roar of the growing flames.

His plane, burning and cracked in two, lay on its side.  A total loss.  A Failure.  His failure— just like everything else he touched.  It was a miracle that he survived.

Dual beams of light broke the darkness behind the trees.  Red and blue lights swirled.  A moaning high-pitched sound broke the night, echoing above the crackling flames.

David backed away from his aircraft, away from the lights, and the subsequent voices that came from the same direction.  He’d be blamed for this.  He knew it.  He slipped into the trees, away from the warmth of the flames.

He had no choice.  He had to run.

Write a Story with Me – Part 12 With Julie Catherine “What’d she do?”

Yay!  It’s my favorite day of the week! If you are new to Write a Story with Me, please scroll down to see a list of previous posts.  Catch up on the story and have a great time!

Today we welcome miss Julie Catherine to the lineup.  Normally a mild-mannered poetess, Ms. Catherine brings on the intrigue this week.  What, oh what, has the devilish Bethany done????????

Read on below!

She laid the leaf gently on the outside sill of the window for the breeze to carry away, and flew to open the door.  Her father, still garbed in his stately Planetary Raiders Captain uniform, scooped his daughter into his arms and whirled her around, hugging her tightly enough that she protested laughingly that she couldn’t breathe.  Marci’s mother hovered behind, rubbing the gentle swell of her belly as she looked on, her face a mix of tolerance and motherly pride. Marci felt a pang of remorse at how quickly that pride would turn to anger if her parents ever learned of her friendship with the fairy, Janelle.

She shrugged off the worrisome thought— for now— slid from her father’s embrace to the floor, grabbed the Needletea pot and skipped down the stairs. “Come, Father”, she called, “tea-time!”

As her mother poured the tea and passed freshly baked scones still warm from the oven, Marci eagerly answered her father’s questions about school and her grades, pleased to be able to give him a glowing report. She was a good student and excelled in her studies. She slathered butter on her scone and nibbled on it thoughtfully;  her mind straying as her parents’ conversation turned to her father’s latest mission.

“… the Commander is convinced the portal can be found; and when it is, the troops will move in, and Argot will finally be rid of the parasitic scourge that threatens to affect the whole of the county!”

Marci’s hand froze, the scone inches away from her mouth, forgotten. Careful not to show any expression that would betray her thoughts, she replaced it gingerly on her plate and wrung her hands in the napkin on her lap, head bowed as she concentrated on wiping her sticky fingers in its folds.  She gulped through the sudden bile in her throat, her appetite replaced with fingers of dread that clawed the inside of her stomach.

She had to find a way to get word to Janelle!  Now!  If she didn’t, the fairies would be totally unprepared when disaster hit— they would be wiped out, all of them.  As much as she adored her father and it grieved her deeply to displease him, Marci could not allow that to happen to her friend; to her friend’s people. She could not condone Janelle’s murder— and that is exactly what would happen if she, Marci, didn’t find a way to warn her friend as soon as possible.

“Poppet, are you all right? You’re white as a sheet!”  Marci’s father’s voice sounded far away and her eyes were having trouble focusing on his face. The room was spinning, and she thought she was going to be sick.

Her father’s hand on her brow felt cool, and it shook slightly.  Suddenly he scooped his daughter into his arms and carried her slight form up the stairs, where he laid her gently on her bed and tucked a warm blanket around her.  Marci was shivering. Why then had her father called to her mother to get the doctor right away— that their daughter was dangerously feverish?  Marci couldn’t make sense of it; was too tired to think, so she closed her eyes and drifted ….

Down the hall, Bethany crouched, unmoving, in the shadows. A slow smile played on her lips as she slipped into her room and closed the door softly.

If you’d like to sign up, come on over.  There’s always room for more!

Previous installments:

Part One – Jennifer M. Eaton

Part Two – J. Keller Ford

Part Three – Susan Roebuck

Part Four – Elin Gregory

Part Five – Eileen Snyder

Part Six – Mikaela Wire

Part Seven — Vanessa Chapman

Part Eight — Ravena Guron

Part Nine – Vikki Thompson

Part Ten — Susan Rocan mywithershins

Part Eleven — Kate Johnston  AKA 4AMWriter

Part Twelve — Julie Catherine

Don’t forget to stop by next week to see what happens next.

Kai Damian —- TAG!  You are “It”

Write a Story with Me – Part 11- Tying up the plot holes with Kate Johnston

Hey!  Someone’s paying attention!  Special thanks to the wonderfully talented Kate Johnston for noticing a little plot glitch in the story.

There was a discrepancy in the whereabouts of the Olden leaf. In installment 6
and 7, Janosc brings the Olden leaf to Gwydyon. But in Vikki’s passage, Marci
puts the Olden leaf in a pot.

What does a writer do????  Let’s find out with Kate’s installment.

Take it away, Kate!

As Marci hurried to greet her father, she wondered if she was wise to put the Olden leaf in the pot, a gift to her father from the Establishment. She’d been so upset over Janelle’s future that she hadn’t been thinking properly. Their family custom was to concoct Needletea in that pot upon her father’s return from his missions.

Move the leaf, Marci thought. She raced back upstairs and grabbed the leaf. Then she stopped.

This wasn’t the Olden leaf. This one had the wrong shape, and it wasn’t warm to the touch.

Where was the Olden leaf? Where did this ordinary leaf come from?

Marci hunted, but the Olden leaf was gone. Did Janelle take it?  No, she wouldn’t have taken it without telling her.

Then where…?

Wanna find out where?  Visit  4AMWriter’s blog to find out! Kate’s just getting started!  Part Eleven — Kate Johnston 

If you’d like to sign up, come on over.  There’s always room for more!

Part One – Jennifer M. Eaton

Part Two – J. Keller Ford

Part Three – Susan Roebuck

Part Four – Elin Gregory

Part Five – Eileen Snyder

Part Six – Mikaela Wire

Part Seven — Vanessa Chapman

Part Eight — Ravena Guron

Part Nine – Vikki Thompson

Part Ten — Susan Rocan

Part Eleven — Kate Johnston  AKA 4AMWriter

Don’t forget to stop by next week to see what happens next.

Julie Cahterine —- TAG!  You are “It”

Flash Fiction Friday on Wednesday – You want me to stick my hand where? And do what with it? — A true story

Sometimes reality is just so much dern better than anything you can come up with on your own … I swear.

Yes, this is a true story.  This happened this summer at our writer’s retreat.

This is what I would consider a very un-edited first draft.  I just wanted to get the story down, so please forgive the blatant tell and other errors.  I’m just writing this for the fun of telling this story… and it’s a good one.

.
So, it’s like this…  We’d been in the car for six hours, driving out into the middle of East Jabit in the country for a nice, quiet Writer’s Retreat.  We get to the house at 1:30 in the morning, and we call the girl in the other car to find out where the key is.  Now, this wouldn’t be all that big a deal, but she is several hours behind us, and no one wants to sit on a porch for two hours at that time of night.

Keep this in mind.  We NEED to find this key.

Anyway… She says finding it will be easy breezy.  There are four grates in the center of the gazebo.  Pick up the one on the right, and the key is in the far back corner under the right hand side hanging on a nail.  No problem, right?

Well, it wouldn’t be a story if it was all that easy, would it?

Now remember…we are out in the middle of the country.  We were warned about bears and other little critters.  We were warned that we might have to fight through giant spiders to get to the door… and it is PITCH BLACK.

We didn’t hear any growling, so we were feeling safe that we wouldn’t be eaten.  I’d forgotten about the spiders until I leaned down to pick up the grate.  Let me tell you, a giant spider can make one heck of a big web… and it doesn’t feel all too good when one wraps around your face.

I backed up, and decided to be a good girl and wait for Krista to bring the flashlight.

So, we got the grate up, and shined the flashlight into the deep scary pit of despair.

No Key.

Ya gotta be kidding me. 

We took off the second grate, and the third.  No key.  Ugh.

We whipped out the cell phones, using them as lights.  Everyone is holding the lights two feet or more from this massive hole in the floor of the gazebo.  A four foot drop loomed below.

I finally realized that no one was going to stick their hands in this freaking hole.  So I look on the right hand side, where the key is supposed to be, and there is a huge thick spider web covering the right corner.

Must be under there,  I thought.

Marie volunteered to go find a stick to clear away the webs.  Oh course, she can’t find one.  We’re in the woods, and no stick.  Go figure.

I found a planter that looked way too healthy for such a hot summer.  I grab a flower.

Yes!—fake.  I yanked the stem out of the planter (sorry for the vandalism) and used it to clear the spider webs.

Guess what?

No key.

You gotta be kidding me.

By now, everyone is keeping far away from this hole.  I didn’t know about them, but I was freaking tired.  I stuck my head in the hole.  Once I was down there, and realized how wide and deep the expanse was beneath the gazebo,  I decided sticking my face down first was not the greatest idea.

“I’m going in,” I announced.

I think I heard a “better you than me” mutter.

I held my breath, grabbed on to the sides of the opening, and eased myself in.

Sitting on the damp earth, my eyes just at the level of the flooring, I reached up, and someone handed me a flashlight.  Let me tell you something….. Sometimes you are better off NOT KNOWING.

I flashed the light under the crawlspace, and there, inches from my face, was a huge circular web.  Its owner, a hairy white spider THE SIZE OF MY HAND stared at me… fangs raised.

I suppressed a screech.  “If I pretend it’s not there it will go away,” I whispered.

“Why?” Someone asked.  “What’s there?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Realizing that I had just missed the web when I scooted under, I tried hard not to move.  I scanned the flashlight around the opening.  NO STINKING KEY.

I slowly crawled out of the hole, doing my best not to tick off the tyrannosaurus-rex keeping guard under there.  “Guys, there is no key under there.”  They pointed their cell phones on me, checking to make sure nothing was crawling on my back, my legs.   Eeewwwww!

Another call to the owner gives more direction.  “You need to reach underneath, around the corner, and run your fingers across the right hand side until you feel a nail.”

What is this, National Treasure?  Mission Impossible?  Indiana Jones?  Come on!

At this point, I’m the only one who KNOWS what’s down there waiting to eat us.  Guess what… it didn’t matter …  no one else was volunteering to go near that hole.  Hey, I don’t blame them.  They now knew I was stupid enough to go down into that dark pit of terror… why should they do it?

“Oh, Alright,” I said.

I leaned down, said a prayer, and started feeling my way along the beam.  Tangles of dead bugs decaying in spider webs tickled my fingers… and mind you… I’m feeling my way around inside this hole…  I cannot SEE what I’m about to touch.  Remember that T-Rex?  Gads!

“There is no nail!”

“She says it’s toward the back.” Someone relays from the phone.

Ugh.

Okay, spidey.  Just let me take the key and I will leave you alone.

I punched my hand through the gads of sticky, nasty old dead bug-carcass webbing and reached the back panel.  I ran my fingertips through bumps and snags of God knows what.

Boom.  I hit something metal.  “I found the nail!”  I walked my fingertips further in, my shoulder now completely enveloped in the hole…

with the T-Rex…

in the dark.

Something made a delightful tinkling noise… the keys!

“I got it!”

I jumped up, grasping the magical prize in my hand, and ran to the front of the house.  I ducked under a four-foot round spider web to get to the keyhole.

Success!

Inside, I turned on the lights, and the girls graciously gathered around me, picking off all the nastiness that I just didn’t want to know about.

Whew.  We were in.

We moved quickly, unpacking the car and choosing beds.  I didn’t care which bed.  I just wanted to sleep.

Krista walked into the kitchen, and flipped up the handle on the faucet.

“Umm,” she says, “where’s the water?”

You gotta be kidding me.  The knob to turn the water on is WHERE?

Write a Story with Me – Part 10 – Going after the Bro- By Susan Rocan

Susan Rocan ties two plotlines together this week, and leaves our next person with a devilishly great last line to work off of.

Here’s the beginning of Susan’s submission just as a tease.  You’ll have to hop on over to her site to see where she brings us.

Jenelle perched on a branch outside the window, listening to the joy
in Marci’s voice as she greeted her father. The wee fairy felt a pang
of longing, knowing that such a life was not going to be hers. With
tears clouding her eyes, Jenelle took a deep breath, flicked her wings
and sped across the meadow until her wings ached.

A familiar whirring caused her to whip around and hover, facing her
brother, defiantly.

“Why are you following me?” she demanded.

Wanna see more?  Of course you do!  So let’s hop on over to Susan’s site mywithershins to see what’s going to happen with our story this week!

If you’d like to sign up, come on over.  There’s always room for more!

Part One – Jennifer M. Eaton

Part Two – J. Keller Ford

Part Three – Susan Roebuck

Part Four – Elin Gregory

Part Five – Eileen Snyder

Part Six – Mikaela Wire

Part Seven — Vanessa Chapman

Part Eight — Ravena Guron

Part Nine – Vikki Thompson

Part Ten — Susan Rocan

Don’t forget to stop by next week to see what happens next.

4amWriter —- TAG!  You are “It”

Write a Story with Me – Part 9 What about the Queen? by Vikki Thompson

Miss Vikki from the View Outside kicks up the pace this week, and brings us back to Marci and Janelle.  I guess this should start chapter two — what do you think?

“Please Janosc, leave us!” Janelle glared at her brother.
“Very well, I will wait outside.”
Marci watched in awe, as his wings carried him out through the open window.
“I must apologise for my brother Marci, he always thinks he knows best.”
Janelle sat down on the bare wooden floor and crossed her pale delicate legs. Her wings folding elegantly behind her as she lowered herself. She patted the floor and Marci sat down in front of her.
“I’m really confused Janelle, what Janosc said, I…..”
“Well don’t do it then.” Marci pleaded.
Want to read more?  I sure do!  Come hop on over to Vikki’s blog with me!

If you’d like to sign up, come on over.  There’s always room for more!

Catching up?  Previous installments are listed below.

Part One – Jennifer M. Eaton

Part Two – J. Keller Ford

Part Three – Susan Roebuck

Part Four – Elin Gregory

Part Five – Eileen Snyder

Part Six – Mikaela Wire

Part Seven — Vanessa Chapman

Part Eight — Ravena Guron

Part Nine — Vikki Thompson

Don’t forget to stop by next week to see what happens next.

Mywithershins —- TAG!  You are “It”

Write a Story with Me – Part 8 – Bring on the Teen writers. Go Ravena!

Whoot Whoot!  It’s write a story with me day!  The lovely miss Ravena is jumping in from the UK.  What an Awesome International team we have.

Doesn’t this totally rock that all these people from across the world are jumping in on this together. And the story is really coming together.  If you are new, check out the links below to start fresh or in case you missed a post.

Without further ado, hop on a plane (or car, or balloon, or blimp… whatever you need) to read Ravena Guron’s addition to Write a Story with Me!

Go Ravena!

If you’d like to sign up, come on over.  There’s always room for more!

Part One – Jennifer M. Eaton (USA)

Part Two – J. Keller Ford (USA)

Part Three – Susan Roebuck

Part Four – Elin Gregory

Part Five – Eileen Snyder

Part Six – Mikaela Wire

Part Seven — Vanessa Chapman

Part Eight — Ravena Guron

Don’t forget to stop by next week to see what happens next.

Vicki from the View Outside —- TAG!  You are “It”