Written Fireside is a round robin style written, short story feature based on the campfire game where one person starts a story then passes it on to the next person gathered by the fire to continue.

For each story I write part 1, then each participating author (a Fire Writer) adds a part in turn.

Sep 2, 2014

Written Fireside: Of The Storm part 1


One black inked word written in a familiar scrawl filled the width of the single white sheet of paper taped to her front door. The pounding behind her eyes increased, rivaling the sound of thunder. She ripped the note down, crumpling it in a clenched fist. Exhausted from a twelve-hour shift at Forest Grove Hospital and worried about the approaching storm, the last thing Amaya Payton needed was more drama.

“Makani.” Impatient, she scanned the side yard and then the thick stand of oaks that skirted her home. “Makani.”

Photo Credit, David Niblack, Imagebase.net

The wind creaking tree boughs was her only answer.

Muttering some choice swear words, she pushed open the door. Even with only the stream of the fading evening light she’d let into the space, Amaya could see her living room had been trashed. Open hutch drawers, furniture tipped over, and broken remains of knickknacks covered the section of coffee table she could see and the floor beside it. She rubbed her throbbing temple. Wasn’t the eldest sister supposed to be the responsible one?

Amaya took a step inside, paused, and flipped on the light switch. Nothing happened. She grimaced, glancing back outside. Lightning briefly illuminated the heavens. She didn’t have much time left. Nature would unleash within the hour.

Every patient who entered the emergency room today had blamed their odd accidents on the fact it was Halloween, there was a full moon, or both. Amaya snorted. People needed to get a grip on their overactive imaginations. She jerked open the drawer of the stand by the door and pulled out the flashlight she kept for such occasions. The storm was, by far, more dangerous than superstition.

Comfortable in low light, Amaya didn’t bother to turn on the heavy flashlight as she moved forward. Her night vision was excellent. Instead, she clutched the flashlight like a club, believing it was always wise to have a weapon of sorts, just in case. Concern for her sister bled into irritation while she righted a chair and threw the cushions back on the couch one-handed.

What had Makani done now?

A sudden gust of wind howled through the open door, curling around her. For a moment, Amaya couldn’t breathe. The feeling that something was seriously wrong hit her with the force of a blow.

“Makani, show yourself,” Her tone, sharp with worry, demanded.

Without warning, the door slammed shut, plunging the room into complete darkness. Amaya stilled, bracing for whatever may come. She remembered the flashlight after a few seconds and clicked it on. Nothing seemed different at first. She started toward the hutch where she kept candles, and stopped cold, noticing something out of the corner of her eye. A soft glow now flowed out from under the closed kitchen door.

Amaya acted without thought, moving forward, and opening the door. She stepped inside. Only years of practice kept her expression blank. Casually leaning against kitchen counter, bathed in the light of her favorite vanilla scented candle, was Brishen, more handsome than sin and twice as dangerous.

“Miss me?”

With every shot so far. “Why are you here Bri?”

His violet eyes narrowed. “My name is Brishen,” His silky smooth voice held clear displeasure. “You should be polite. Offending a member of Tasaria’s court isn’t wise.”

“I’ve great respect for Tasaria,” She looked at him without flinching, only a trace of the disdain she felt in her tone. “I simply have no respect for you.”

“Careful, Amaya.”

“Say what you will and be gone.”

“Brushing me off, such a shame.” Brishen straightened, and then walked slowly up to her, stopping too close for comfort. “Most humans find me irresistible.”

Amaya lifted her chin, refusing to be intimidated. “The message?”

His expression darkened, reminding her that even though he was only a messenger, all Fae were dangerous. Any ordinary human, with the slightest bit of intelligence would be scared out of their wits. Amaya wasn’t afraid, well not much, but then she wasn’t an ordinary human.

Of The Storm


on September 9th with Part 2 

Aileen Harkwood

Her newest book releases October 1, 2014


  1. Sounds interesting so far - you have such a way of drawing the reader right into the "thick of things" immediately.

    1. Thank you so much. It is my goal to intrigue you and other readers ^_^

  2. Really love the verbal wrestling between Amaya and Brishen. Going to be tough to equal that. :)

  3. I have every confidence you are up to the task ^_^


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...