February Writing Contest


It is that time again for another writing contest.  As promised, this one is earlier in the month due to skipping January and because of the upcoming holiday.  Next month it will go back to being held during the last ten days of the month.  As I mentioned in an earlier blog post, this one’s theme is somewhat influenced by Valentines Day.  Not in the way you think, since we will be looking at worst case scenarios of a Valentines date gone bad.

For those who are new to the contest, or haven’t participated in a while, pay close attention to all the details. The stipulations and rules will be listed below.  For further information, stop by the Monthly Writing Contest page to see the complete listing of rules and other information that you should know (along with previous winners).  You will have until February 14th at midnight (EST) to submit your entry.  That is approximately eight days from now.  On February 15th, I will announce the finalists for the contest and open up voting.  There are typically three finalists, but if more than ten entries are submitted, I may select four.  It will remain my right to use assistance from outside sources in the selection process, if I cannot decide easily. Those who judge will have no stake in this contest or its outcome.

As a reminder, the first and second place winners will receive a prize.  First place will receive a $20 Amazon gift card, and the runner-up will get a $10 Amazon gift card.  Both will be announced after voting is over on February 18th.

Now, here are the stipulations and rules.  Follow them closely or you will be disqualified!

Stipulations:

1) Tell a story about a date gone bad, between grown adults, on Valentines Day.  The couple could be meeting for the first time or they could be in a long-term marriage (or anything between).

2) There must be one kiss between the couple, even if it is very brief or only on the cheek.  It can happen at any time in the story.

3) The story must include three or more of the following issues:

a) Water gets splashed in someone’s face.
b) A fire breaks out
c) One or both of the date’s mothers call to check in on them
d) A natural disaster occurs such as an earthquake, tornado, or blizzard
e) One of the two characters on the date gets arrested (but not both)
f) One of them has a kid show up asking for money
g) There is a city-wide blackout
h) Someone loses their shoes
i) The place where the date occurs is not what it seems…
j) Hell freezes over (interpret that how you will)

4) Word count should be between 700-1200 words.

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General Rules:

1) No extreme language. There are people here who do not want to see it and I prefer we not have anything that might be too offensive to the average reader. Light profanity is acceptable.

2) Making me laugh will gain you favor in my selection, though it isn’t a requirement. All genres of writing are welcome (if you are erotica, try to keep it mild please).

3) Post your story in the comments section of the Contest post for that month. Do not email it to me.

4) Ensure you include your name (even if it is only a first name or nickname) and a title for the story. Neither of these go toward word-count.

5) Anyone who has won any of the last three contests is not eligible for a finalist position. They can submit a story if they wish, just for fun, but they cannot win.

6) Any story submission posted here can be posted elsewhere after the competition is over. The only thing I ask is that you put a disclaimer saying that it was written for a contest on this blog (a link back here would be nice).

7) Must be your original writing that has never been published before.

8)Anyone may enter the contest (regardless of country of origin) but must be able to receive an Amazon gift card (they are not transferable).  I will convert US currency to the currency of the Amazon country site requested, based on current exchange rates.

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That is everything you need to know.  Come back on Wednesday (February 15th) to see who the finalists are and vote in the poll for your favorite candidate (or maybe even yourself).   The poll will stay open until midnight (EST) Friday, February 17th.  That is approximately three days for voting.  On Saturday, the 18th, I will announce the winner and runner-up.  They will both receive their Amazon gift cards at that time.   Good luck!

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~ by Suzie on February 7, 2012.

97 Responses to “February Writing Contest”

  1. I.R.L. by J Bryden Lloyd
    He grimaced at the image that stared back from the mirror. There was no way Amy1066 was going to be impressed. He looked at his watch and frowned, “I thought the guy was supposed to be able to get ready quick!” he muttered as the third hour ticked towards its conclusion.

    Another half our of preening and mind-changing later, Matt emerged from his front door and considered the monsoon-like rain storm that had erupted between him and his car, “You’ve gotta be kidding!” he moaned, as the first flash of distant lightning appeared over the skyline. He reached back through the door and grabbed the small, spotty umbrella off the table, glaring at it in disgust.

    Despite the slow traffic in the heavy weather, Matt made good time and was soon outside the suggested location. He stared at the dull frontage of the once-renowned restaurant and shuddered. The weathered paintwork and dirty windows were far from inviting and the many missing letters from ‘The Shaolin House’ made the name totally indecipherable. “I’m sure she knows something I don’t.” he assured himself.
    He ran inside and looked at himself in the full-length mirror inside the entrance, “I may as well have lay on the pavement and rolled!” he groaned as he looked at his saturated form.

    Fifteen minutes in the company of the hand-dryers in the gents made little impact, other than offering a few dry patches and uncomfortable warmth to the many still-wet areas of his clothing, and making his hair stand on-end, making him resemble something out of a cartoon that had been electrocuted. “I think I’ll call it a night before Amy1066 gets here.” he said to himself, and headed out and back towards the exit.
    The waiter beckoned to him as he stepped into the restaurant area, diverting him towards the dimly-lit table. He slowed, stopped, sighed, smiled and sat down. “Dammit!” he breathed.

    The creaking chair and stained, sour-smelling tablecloth were just starting to make him reconsider when she entered. His eyes widened as he saw her, shoes in hand, shapely form clinging to the saturated silver-grey dress she was wearing. Make-up streamed down her distraught face as she caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror. Despite the distance between them, he stood and smiled at her. Her eyes found his and they shared the immediate understanding that this was not how it was meant to be.
    She exchanged a few words with the Head Waiter, put her shoes back onto her feet and walked casually towards the table. Matt saw the napkin on the floor and made a move forward to stop her stepping on it. Too late!
    Her right foot slid gracefully forwards until her heel snapped and her knee bent, turning her into the unsuspecting man sitting at the adjacent table. Matt grabbed for her flailing arm, succeeding only in knocking it off its intended trajectory towards the edge of the table and diverting it up and into the accumulated items between the dining couple. Her elbow struck the edge of the table and, as she cried out, her hand upturned the water jug, which rolled towards her, throwing its ice, lemon and water directly into her face, filling her mouth, and turning her cry into a comedic gargle.
    He helped her stand and presented her with the red rose he had carefully protected all day, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

    After her fifteen minute stint in the ladies, she returned to the table and sat silently, her stunning grey-green eyes framed perfectly by the now flowing dark-blonde hair, where she had secured the pre-arranged white flower. She looked around and frowned slightly, “This isn’t how I remember it,” her smooth voice said.
    “Amy,” he said, and faltered, “erm, IF that’s what you want me to call you.” She smiled, so he continued, “Would you like a drink? Some wine, beer?” she shook her head, “Some water, perhaps?” he gambled.
    As one, they both looked towards the now vacant table where the waiter was clearing the remnants of the meal she had so adequately destroyed. They laughed.

    Four long, overcooked courses and much discussion later, the earlier disasters were nothing more than memories. As the waiter placed the bill on the table, Matt picked it up and unfolded it. Immediately it was snatched from his hands by Amy, who smirked at him before producing a credit card and handing it to the waiter.
    The uncomfortable vibration accompanied the too-loud ‘Banana-phone’ ringtone, and Matt dug furiously through his trouser pocket to get to the phone before the chorus ended.
    “Hello.”
    “Matt, it’s me. Did you get there okay? Did she turn up?”
    “Mum, yes, everything’s fine.”
    “That’s good. Is she a looker? You know what Tom said about the people you meet on social networking sites… you never can tell who or what they…”
    “Yes, mum, look… I’m sort of, busy here, I’ll talk to you later, okay?” he dabbed at the button as he returned Amy’s smile a little nervously.
    “Oh,” the speakerphone announced his mother’s still present voice, “I had no idea things were going THAT well! You make sure you use…” Matt pounced on the button in horror, disconnecting the call.
    “I think we should go.” Amy said a little shakily, looking around at the rest of the diners.
    Matt realised he, or rather his mother, had totally ruined any chance he may have had. They got up and headed for the door.

    The Head Waiter hurried after them but Matt waved him off as he opened the door for Amy. The rain had finally stopped, but Matt decided on one last gamble, “Can I give you a lift anywhere?” he placed his hand on the car.
    She smiled nervously, “Yes please, if you don’t mind.”
    He held the door open for her and soon they were pulling away from the restaurant, “I’m sorry about tonight,” she offered, “it really didn’t go as I intended.”
    “It’s fine,” he replied, “at least we have something to tell our friends about.” She laughed at that and he smiled.
    “That’s true,” she sighed, “not least of which is the £200 pair of shoes I just left behind!”
    “What!? You want to go back?” he offered.
    “No, it’s okay. I broke them anyway.” she said easily.

    She directed him out into the older residential estates, where they pulled up outside a large, Victorian house. “This is me.” she smiled. “We should do this again.”
    “Really!?” Matt responded in genuine surprise.
    She kissed him gently on the cheek and nodded, “I’ll see you online.”
    She stepped out of the car, into a huge puddle, and waved.

    Matt returned the wave and frowned as the blue strobes filled the night. Suddenly the area was filled with police and Matt watched as Amy was dragged to the ground and cuffed.
    His car door was opened and he was invited onto the road.
    “Amanda Hastings,” he heard an officer saying, “I am arresting you on fifty-eight counts of credit card fraud. We’ve been after you for quite some time…”

    “How well do you know Miss Hastings?” the officer asked Matt.
    “I, erm… I just met her tonight.” he replied.

  2. “The Great Eskype”

    By Charity Parkerson

    963 words

    It was a running joke between my friends that I hate Skype; after all, my only real experience with it was when some creepy guy from twitter asked if he could see my tweets. I swear, that was his exact words. However, a few months later, while once again on Twitter, I ran across this Avi that I couldn’t look away from. His hair was dark and his eyes a vibrant blue. To say the least, I was mesmerized. His post was in my newsfeed therefore I had to be following him, but I couldn’t remember ever doing so. Nonetheless, his picture was smoking-hot and his tweet made me laugh, so I hit the re-tweet button before moving along. Well, let’s be honest, I hung around a moment longer drooling for a second, and then moved along. To my surprise, he responded. I was giddy, as after a few back and forth responses, we moved out chat to DM, making our comments a little more personal than I normally would’ve been comfortable with, but I couldn’t remember ever encountering such a handsome and witty man. These tiny 140 character chats went on for weeks, until the subject of Skype arose again. I was reluctant at first, but I didn’t want to lose my chance at finally getting to meet this dream man face to face. The first chat went smoothly and my confidence built. The only problem was that he lived so far away I couldn’t imagine a time when I would get to enjoy his company in person, but he was magnetic and I couldn’t let the connection go. Unfortunately, the closer it came time for Valentine’s Day the more depressed I became over the matter. I found myself watching the bottom right hand side of my computer screen like a woman possessed waiting for the moment that his name would appear online, and I dreamed of the sound his voice when I drifted off to sleep each night, but I was no closer to having the “real” man only this online image that I couldn’t hold on to. Disheartened I finally broached the subject with Matt. “I miss you.”
    His deep chuckle sounded through the microphone. “We’ve been chatting for hours. How could you miss me?”
    “I can’t explain it,” I answered, sounding defensive even to myself. “I just miss you.” I sighed, unable to continue this game. “It is only the fact that Valentine’s Day is tomorrow and I wish that I could be with you.”
    I held my breath, unable to believe that I said the words aloud, but as usual, he either misunderstood or pretended to. “I will call you tomorrow at the usual time, I promise.”
    I almost groaned, in my aggravation. “I want to spend it with you, not cuddled up with my computer, but cuddled up with you!” My voice rose with each word, but once the gate opened I was unable to stop the flood of emotion. He looked away in silence and I could see that he was considering my words. A small smile touched his lips briefly and my shoulders nearly sagged in relief that he didn’t appear to be angry. “I want to be with you too,” he admitted. “But, I can’t pull it off tomorrow. There is a blizzard going on up here and the airport has shut down. Perhaps, in a couple of weeks, I’ll be able to make the trip but I’ll never be able to pull it off by tomorrow, and plus I have to work tomorrow. “
    I wasn’t surprised by the answer but I couldn’t help the disappointment that I felt. It must have shown because Matt quickly rallied. “How about this, what if we make tonight our Valentine’s? We’ll pretend that we are together and this is our first real date.”
    “Hmmm, a date? I like the sound of that. What should we do first?” I asked, attempting to sound seductive as I rode the high of him mentioning a trip to visit. Matt leaned closer to his camera, and I did the same eating up the sight of him with my eyes.
    “First, you should take your shoes off and get comfortable.”
    “My shoes?” I asked, thinking that I liked the sound of where this was going but feeling cautious just the same.
    “Yep, the shoes. I want them…off.”
    I giggled like a schoolgirl at his playful tone, and did as he asked without delay. “What about you? If we are making ourselves comfortable then you should slip out of your shoes, as well.”
    “Done,” he answered immediately. I watched in fascination as he stood and tossed his shoes across the room before reseating himself in front of the computer. “I think you should unbutton your blouse. It looks stifling.”
    I paused, a bit uncomfortable with this request but turnabout is fair play, and I really wanted his shirt off.
    I glanced down at my hands as I reached for the top button. I wasn’t normally this brave and I couldn’t look him in the eye as I took this first step. A childish giggle carried over the airwaves and my hands froze at the sound. I looked up slowly, fearing that I already knew what I would find. Next to Matt stood a miniature copy of him, but luckily the child spoke only to him and ignored my presence.
    “Mom says get off the computer ‘cause the pizza will be here any minute and we need money to pay for it.”
    “Okay son. Let Daddy say goodbye to his friend and I’ll be there in a second.” Matt switched his attention away from his son and back to me. “Sorry babe, we’ll have to pick this back up later. My wife needs me.”

  3. Ahhhh No Matt grrr.. I love it Charity.

  4. Excellent. The tension builds and bang. Anti-climax.

  5. Good job, both of you- great trick ending Charity, and Bryden- I love your self- depreciating wit! I would enter but too much going on in my head right now- Good luck!

  6. Wicked Charity! Great unexpected ending and had me hooked.

  7. Warranted
    By C.M. Denton

    It was not an especially cold day, yet Ryan’s jittery nerves made it seem like a new chill was constantly running down his spine. Just the thought of a blind-date (arranged by his mother, no less) set him on the shakiest edge of his composure, of which he never had an abundant amount anyway. With a notable sigh, like a man about to march to the gallows, Ryan pulled his faded leather jacket a little tighter around his gaunt torso.
    “Are you Ryan?” a melodious nearby voice inquired.
    The sweating young man virtually leaped from the cushioned bench where he had been restlessly sitting, and his blinking eyes darted towards a slender, smiling angel of a woman, dressed in perhaps her most casual form-fitting jeans and a flattering ruby t-shirt with a pink heart embossed on the anatomically correct spot. Shortened blond hair dangled just above her willowy shoulders, perfectly framing her meek, alluring countenance, which was precisely at eye-level with his.
    “You are Ryan?” she timidly asked again, with an amused sparkle glittering in her bright green irises.
    “Yeah, yes, I’m Ryan,” the young man abruptly stuttered, when he realized that he had been gawking dumbly at her. “And you’re Becca?”
    “It’s nice to meet you,” Becca greeted more formally, shaking his hand lightly. “Do we have a table?”
    Before Ryan could even proffer any semblance of a response, another female appeared suddenly at Becca’s side, a younger and obviously more shameless sort of girl, adorned with too much makeup and an extra low-cut blouse above a matching miniskirt (though one could hardly call it a skirt). Facially, this girl resembled Becca in most respects, except that her own golden locks were decorated in a frightful array of braids and bangs and tangled tresses, as if she had attempted and failed a dozen diverse styles.
    “Is this the guy?” she questioned at once, with a smack of chewing gum in her flapping jaw.
    “Yes, this is Ryan,” Becca answered sharply, just barely containing an irritable groan. “Ryan, this is my sister Andrea. I’m sorry, our mom had an emergency at the office, and she asked me to watch Andrea for a while.”
    “I’m untrustworthy,” Andrea added with a sardonic smirk, as she continued to appraise the young man standing before her in his old leather jacket and semi-tattered jeans, with his tousled brown hair sometimes falling over one eye. “So, did you win?” she brusquely quizzed him.
    “Uh, win what?” Ryan stammered in uncertainty, looking from Andrea to her big sister, yet even Becca seemed confused by the query.
    “Did you win the Judd Nelson Breakfast Club lookalike contest?” Andrea shot back at him in derision, like some venomous viper striking at a weaker creature.
    Without thinking, Ryan brushed aside the frontal strands of his hair and eased his jacket off his body, folding it up in his arms. Then, turning to the waiting hostess, he motioned that they were ready for their table.
    “Why don’t you go sit at the bar?” Becca suggested to Andrea, as she seized her younger sister by the arm to emphasize her meaning. “I’m sure you would be more comfortable there anyway.”
    Andrea shrugged acquiescently and held out her other hand. Scowling, though not unattractively, Becca reached into her pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, which she shoved into her little sister’s hand.
    “Did you bring your fake ID?”
    “Never leave home without it,” Andrea crooned in reply, as she practically skipped towards the sparsely populated bar. As she strutted away, her cell phone rang in her back pocket and she answered it rather loudly: “Hi, Mom. … Yeah, we just met the guy. … Nah, she’s done a lot worse. … You didn’t tell me she was gonna be dating 80s Judd Nelson….”
    Having thus rid themselves of the troublesome teenager, Becca and Ryan took their seats at a table on the far side of the restaurant, near the swinging doors of the kitchen, but still within view of the bar, where they could see Andrea moving deviously closer to an older single gentleman. For a few minutes afterward, everything appeared to be progressing better for the blind-daters. They talked about jobs and aspired college degrees, family quirks and beloved pets. They even agreed to share the Tuscan platter, since neither of them was very learned in Italian cuisine. Ryan was finally starting to feel somewhat at ease with Becca—her sweet smile, her pleasant petite laugh, and the way her fingers frequently glided across his hands whenever she stared him straight in the eye.
    Their peaceful mood was splintered, however, by an unexpected commotion in the kitchen. Curious as they were, Ryan and Becca simultaneously looked back at the kitchen doors behind them, which were currently swinging wide. Apparently, someone had spilled a great amount of alcohol on the skillet and stove, igniting a voracious flame that licked upwards at the paneled ceiling. In a panic, an amateur cook grabbed a discarded pitcher of water and began dousing the fire. A heavy smoke filled the kitchen as the flames evaporated out of existence. But now, one of the senior chefs came storming in and commenced screeching at the amateur fellow with the improvised extinguisher. Yelling his fury in a language that only vaguely sounded Italian, the elder chef stole the pitcher of water from the other man and threw the remaining contents in the surprised cook’s face. This, of course, instigated a whole new chorus of unintelligible threats and curses from both men, who could barely see each other through the thick haze.
    “I imagine our dinner will be a bit late,” Becca mused with a chuckle.
    “Do you think Andrea will mind?” Ryan pondered in return, gesturing purposely at the rambunctious girl sitting at the bar.
    As Becca glanced over her shoulder, she noted her younger sister chatting seductively with the solitary gentleman, obviously trying to coax a drink out of him, presumably because her own fake ID had failed to persuade the bartender. Lethargically and coldly, the gentleman reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and retrieved something quite similar to a wallet, but clearly different.
    By the ashen glaze on Andrea’s visage, Becca knew the item was a police badge.
    While the brash teenager slowly slinked away from the off-duty police officer, Becca’s own phone began to ring, and she hurriedly answered it: “Mom? I can’t talk…. … What?! I thought her warrant wasn’t supposed to come through! … Are the cops on their way to the house now? … Okay, I’ll take Andrea to Grandma’s.”
    Immediately, Becca put her phone away and bounded from her seat. To Ryan’s absolute amazement, she then leaned over and kissed him fully on his lips, just for an instant.
    “I have to go,” she announced in a rush. “I’ll call you later tonight. I promise.”
    And just like that, Becca grabbed Andrea from the bar and vanished out the front door, while Ryan sat stupefied at the table, bewildered and enchanted. It was definitely not the worst Valentine’s date he had ever had.

  8. Goodness Me! Oh My! Oh Well?
    by Lynn Hallbrooks

    As Sandra sat down to her keyboard, she wondered about her friend, Mandy. To her delight there is a private message from her on Facebook and it’s only a minute old. Sandra typed, “What happened? Last I heard you were going on date with Roger Bates.”

    A few seconds later, Sandra noticed the words, ‘Mandy is typing’ as a new window opened for their private conversation.

    Mandy words surprised Sandra, “I did go on that date. You’re never going to believe what happened. It started out to be really romantic. He came by my place right at 6 p.m. our time. He brought me some pink roses with red tulips mixed inside a beautiful vase. I asked him to place it on the center of my dining room table. I tell you they brightened up the place. After he placed it there I gave him a hug and a little peck on his cheek and took his hand. He blushed.”

    “That does sound romantic on his part, yet I can’t believe you’d do that.”

    “That’s not the unbelievable part. I mean…you know how shy he can be and we’ve been dating for a month now. It took him until Christmas to get up the nerve to ask me out for New Year’s Eve. I just thought it was time one of us made a move especially being Valentine’s Day and all. I didn’t wish to be too forward and a girl should show her appreciation for flowers as lovely as those were.”
    “You do have a point there. So what was so unbelievable?”

    “I’m getting to that I promise…I’m just trying to get it all straight again in my own mind. Roger squeezed my hand and off we went in a different car than usual. I asked where his Mustang was and he said that a Valentine’s date deserved a more reserved kind of car. I nodded slightly then he added, my mother suggested that I take her car. ‘Goodness me’, I thought, ‘I didn’t realize he was a Momma’s boy.’ After he opened the passenger side door, it was a bench seat, the kind like when I was younger. While he went around to his side, I slide a little closer to the middle seat as I got the seat belt around me I leaned in towards him just a bit pretending to have trouble. He gallantly reached over and helped me buckle it. Nothing, not even a peck on the cheek, so I decided that maybe I’d give it a rest for the time being.”
    “Wise choice, girlfriend…some guys don’t like it when a girl is pushy.”

    “I know but I really like him. Anyway, we get to the restaurant and of course it was crowded, people are waiting in the lobby. We get up to the podium, he gives the girl his name and magically we are whisked back to a private room. The table is gorgeous in a royal red table cloth with glass on top and the centerpiece is a vase of red roses with pink tulips mixed in. On either side of the flowers were tapered candles, the flames gently flickering. My heart skipped a beat. He spent a lot of money, was it to impress me? If so, it was working…but he needn’t bother because as I said, I already liked him.”

    “What’s not to like. I mean he is handsome, sounds like he’s a refined gentlemen and well off too.”
    “Yes, all that is true but there’s something more…let me continue. After the waiter gave us the menu, we ordered. As the waiter left, he turned off the overhead lights and there was soft music playing in the background. After few minutes of pleasant conversation, Roger reached for my hand. Then his phone rang. He reluctantly took his hand back to see who was calling. It turned out to be his mother wondering if we heard the weather report. I guess she was worried about her car. Anyway, Roger politely told her that he hadn’t but that the weather was nice when we walked inside. He’d be sure to bring her car back as soon as he brought me home. With that he hung up the phone then looked again and decided to turn it all the way off. He apologized for the interruption and reached out for both of my hands. I gladly took his hands. A few minutes more conversation, then he leaned over and kissed me…I felt the earth move.”

    “It was that good of a kiss?”

    “No, literally, I felt the earth move there were tremors that came from an earthquake that was about 50 miles to the north of us. We weren’t too concerned until the waiter came back in and said that all the lights were out in the neighborhood. The kitchen was run on electricity and our meal was nowhere near cooked. He offered his sincere apologies and gave Roger a voucher to come back another time. Roger grumbled slightly and said he knew it wasn’t their fault. He just really wanted to have a pleasant meal with his fiancé. I looked up and saw a glint in his eyes. Roger took my hand and helped me up. We carefully made our way back to his mother’s car. Roger guided me to the back seat. I was a little excited, as he got in next to me and kissed me on the lips once more. This time my shoe fell off my foot. You guessed it another tremor. So Roger climbed over the seat to drive us home. I decided maybe it was best to stay in the back seat. It seemed whenever I got close to him something happened. When we got to my place, Roger escorted me inside. He took the flashlight from his mother’s car and helped me light some candles. He said he wished he could stay longer but he did have to return his mother’s car.”

    “So did he give you a ring?”

    “No, the phones were out too.”

    “No, silly, I mean did he give you an engagement ring?”

    “Oh well, not yet but I suspect he is going to use that voucher and try again. I just hope he doesn’t wait until next Valentine’s Day.”

    “LOL! Me too…I’m so glad that you got your electricity back on so you could tell me your story. You’re right, I wouldn’t have believed it. I guess I’m glad that I live several states away.”

    “I’m not. You could’ve come over and kept me company afterwards. We might have shared some chocolates or something. :)”

    “LOL! I’m so glad you can be so cheerful over such a bad date.”

    “I never said it was bad…just unbelievable or as I’ve come to call it my ‘Goodness me! Oh my! Oh well?’ date.”

    All Rights Reserved For Mistress Suzie’s February 2012 Writing Contest

  9. YAY!! Great job Lynn =)

  10. “2 go mad in The Canaries”
    by Duncan MacPherson
    742 words

    The events portrayed in the following story are true. Only the date has been changed.

    It was Valentines day, when my wife Lyndsay and I flew into Las Palmas for our 1st holiday without our boys in years.
    My parents had insisted on taking us to Maspalomas in Gran Canaria and we were so excited. The expectation built on the plane and only increased on the bus ride to our hotel.
    We were in an apartment next door to Mum and Dad and as soon as we got in we were in each others arms, for a snog and a quick grope. Then we had the discussion regarding how quiet we’d have to be tonight.
    Once settled in my mum wanted to check out the shops, so we took a walk into town and discovered the Jumba centre. Four stories of shops spread out around an open square. After a spot of shopping we returned to the hotel to relax for a while. We had after all just travelled there that day.
    At around 6 the “auld yins” declared they were going to kick back at the hotel that night. We were not of the same mind. We had plans of making the most of this opportunity. After all, we were childless again for a whole week. So we jumped in a taxi and asked the driver to take us where the nightlife was. We ended up at the Jumba centre again. We didn’t know that it turns into a large scale night spot when the sun goes down.
    It was only then that we discovered that our holiday destination is the gay capitol of Europe. A quick reconnoitre of establishments in search of a pint of John Smith’s led us to Vivette’s. A tranny bar with English staff and lo and behold, the deal breaker. Karaoke.
    We had a ball. The people we met that night were fabulous. We hit it off immediately with a gay couple and two gay single men, who insisted on taking us to the gay nightclub round the corner. We were pretty well in our cups by then and readily agreed.
    Things were good in the club for a short spell until Lyndsay became disoriented leaving the Ladies and thought she was trapped. She couldn’t find me at first and when she did I was talking to the rest of the crowd including an attractive girl. This was where the mood changed. Harsh words were exchanged and we started proper rowing. Lyndsay managed to lose her high heels running away from me, while I walked after her shouting, “where are you going to go? I have your phone and the money.”
    She told me to give her ff’ing phone. And to my credit, I immediately did. Launching it 40 feet straight at her, smashing it to smithereens in the process. Then I did something to prove to the world that I was a drunk Scotsman abroad. I ripped my shirt off hulk-style and threw it away, as if it were on fire. I can honestly say now, looking back, I do not know what that act was meant to achieve.
    I must admit, nobody enjoys a good screaming match more than us, however, this had gotten out of hand. The relationship we agreed was over. Hating each other was the favourite topic then.
    It was at this point that the Spanish police got involved. We were a whisker away from being arrested, but thankfully they put her in a taxi after making sure she knew where she was staying. “Hotel Green Golf,” she screamed at them over and over. They told me too make my own way back. She woke up my father at 4am and stayed with them. I got back, locked our door and went to sleep.
    At midday my Dad came round to ask if I would see her. Of course. We put it all behind us in an instant so based on the previous nights furious declarations hell must have frozen over. Lyndsay and I ended up having a fantastic week. We were in Vivette’s every night. We met the most wonderful people. We even went to the nudist beach, but that’s another story.
    That valentines night out was 6 years ago. We’re married now and have a daughter as well as our sons. But we both agree, that week starting with a calamitous night out, is one of our fondest memories.

  11. Oh, Duncan!! This is too funny! I can picture you ripping your shirt off hulk style LMFAO!!

  12. A Table For Two
    by Anthony Bellaleigh

    Hell has frozen over. Apparently it’s got something to do with the Omnipotent’s concern for the overuse of fossil fuels and some mysterious phenomenon called global warming but that’s all a bit complicated for me and, personally, I think He’s just letting His strange compassion for humanity get the better of Him.

    The upside of course is that purgatory isn’t half as bad as it used to be back in the ‘good-old-bad-old-days’. The downside is that us demons are now at a bit at a loss for what to do with our time. Eternity, as they say, goes on for…, well…, a long time.

    Let’s face it, it’s okay for the human souls – lost or otherwise. They can just mosey about and do their normal stuff. They don’t have enormous fangs punching downward out of leering mouths, or red skin, or yellow eyes, or cloven hooves, or claws for finger nails. As a demon I found I was really disadvantaged until I found myself a lifeline: internet dating.

    You see, PictureApp Pro (Hades-User Edition) did a great job of magically smoothing over even my most deeply pitted scars, and I managed to carry off with aplomb the requisite flirtatious keyboard conversations, so my circle of ‘acquaintances’ grew by the day and, if I’m honest, it started making me feel a little excited in places I’d nearly forgotten I had. But then, disaster…

    Humans it appears – dead or otherwise – have a special day set aside for romance. Where, for some unfathomable reason, it is mandatory for the ongoing sustenance of any relationship for some ‘effort’ to be made. Much can be placated by gifts – apparently – but preference is for some form of eating ritual. My longest standing on-line ‘acquaintance’ had been dropping sledgehammer hints about it for weeks and my nether regions had been enthusiastically ruminating about what might happen in the future if things went well and I, like the rot-infested idiot that I am, went and set up a date… Probably not my wisest hour.

    “So, do you like it here?” I ask across the silverware encrusted, candlelit dining table in an attempt to dislodge my eating partner’s delicate human lips from the frozen ‘o’ shape that they seem to have been stuck in for the last five minutes. I’m also fairly sure she’s a good shade or two paler than when she first arrived.

    “Mmmm…” she manages, though there is still the hint of a tremor, even in this small utterance. Perhaps the sight of my muscular chest, a slab of glistening vermillion still dampened by the lingering memories of aeons spent stoking the Master’s cauldrons, is proving too much for her and, come to think of it, I’m getting strange glances from all around this opulent chandelier and cut-glass festooned restaurant? Unfortunately, however, I suspect it might be my more general ugliness that’s at the root of her obvious disappointment and I have to admit that my ‘nethers’, despite an eternity of under-exercise, have never felt more downhearted and withdrawn as at that moment when she first caught sight of me, and screamed out loud.

    Got to admire her though! She’s got a lot of nerve and I think that’s one of the reasons I liked chatting to her on-line. Barely ten minutes of slight hyperventilation and two sizable brandies have proven enough for her to muster sufficient courage to join me at this cosy corner table and, right now, I can barely see her shaking. Perhaps there’s hope yet?

    Two slender crystal flutes filled with gently simmering champagne sit between us, flickering hypnotically with reflected spark-light from the taper candles. Perhaps a toast might be in order? Some quiet words of friendship might help to put her more at ease? As it is, I’m just grateful for the opportunity to be having a moment of cultured and attractive company – my usual social partners being the dankest dregs of the abyss, literally.

    I reach out to take hold of one of the glasses and she flinches backwards from me. “Please don’t be afraid,” I rumble as pleasantly as I can given my usual vocal capacity for eardrum rupturing roars and try to move my hand away in a placating and unthreatening gesture. Sadly, I’m paying insufficient attention to the surrounding tableware and one of my claws catches the candlestick and knocks it into what looks, from my suddenly adrenalin soaked perspective, like a slow motion rotation.

    Horrified, I watch as the errant silverware spins like the startup phase of some ancient propellor engine. Now would probably be a good time for prayer, mutters my mind but sadly, as you know, I’m not of that disposition and instead I thrust my arm forwards with the full intention of athletically recapturing the object’s status quo.

    But claws aren’t particularly well suited to catching metal.

    I know this now.

    The candlestick jumps out of my grip and lands heavily into the sizable pile of tissues that my Valentine has been using to mop voluminous quantities of tears whilst we wait nervously for our Hors D’oeuvres. Unfortunately it seems that there isn’t as much moisture in them as I need because they burst into flame which quickly spreads toward the fine lace table cloth.

    Flames. Demon. It must be in the genes because I‘m transfixed and sit there for a few seconds like an awestruck child who’s just been thrust headfirst into the world’s biggest sweet shop.

    Fortunately my Valentine has better reactions and leaps up, sending her chair clattering behind her as she rises. Leaning forwards she quickly grabs the glasses of champagne and, with a view to douse the rising conflagration, thrusts her fully loaded hands in front of her like a cowboy gunfighter drawing his six-guns. Well, as it happens, she throws the liquid more toward me than the fire and, if I hadn’t already been feeling so uncomfortable with the way the evening was playing out and not now been sitting there with two full glasses of fine French wine trickling down my face, I would probably have found it amusing to see the look of abject horror that plastered itself over her otherwise beautiful face.

    Still, her misdirected actions at least broke my reverie and I leaned forward and tamped out the flames with the flat of one hand. That’s probably the only advantage I can think of for being who I am: I’m very heat tolerant.

    “This is a disaster,” I mutter sadly to myself, staring at the blackened singe-marks in front of me. “I’m very sorry…”

    “I think it’s best if I go,” says my Valentine quietly and I nod disconsolately feeling my shoulders slump under the heavy weight of disappointment. “But let’s chat some more,” she adds. “On line… Where it’s safer.”

    I pick my head up to look at her, not certain that I’ve heard her properly and she leans forward and kisses me once, briefly, somewhere on the vast escarpment that’s my forehead. Then she turns and walks away.

    I have to say. Despite my background, that’s the warmest touch I’ve ever felt in my life.

    Happy Valentines.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    Anthony Bellaleigh
    9th February 2012
    1,200 words

    • Very original Anthony. Hadn’t considered that a demon might want to date on Valentines too! Too bad it didn’t go quite so well for him.

      • Thank-you Mistress. There seem to be lots of super-high quality submissions again this month… To be honest, I wasn’t sure I was going to have a go but then this critter popped into my head yesterday and, you know how it is, once something’s written you might as well share it! 🙂 Good luck everyone!!

    • I like the Demon angle. I know what you mean about the story popping into your head and then just having to share it.

      “Bestsellers” to everyone.

    • Awww, I kinda felt sorry for the poor demon. Great job, Anthony.

    • BOOO!!! He didn’t get the girl??? Not to worry. Liked this one very much. Nicely done…

      MISTRESS, YOU HAVE YOUR WORK CUT OUT THIS MONTH!!!

      • Ugh, Byrden, you think I don’t know that? Lots of great entries and still a few days left that more could come. It’s not going to be easy.

    • Hilarious Anthony!

  13. Great job Anthony =)

  14. Some Cops Got It All

    “I gotta run hon or I will be late,” she bent over and kissed him full on the lips.
    He laid in bed longer than he should, pondering over how he was going to pull this off. Valentine’s Day was so much easier last year when she was out of town.
    He put on his uniform attaching his holster just before picking up his cell. God, being a cop in a small town sure had it’s draw backs. At least they were meeting in another town tonight for their Valentine’s date.
    The first call went smooth to the local florist, “I would like to order a dozen yellow roses for my wife, I will pick them up in an hour.” That was easy enough he thought to himself.
    The second call was a little bit awkward. People were so nosey and there had already been rumors floating around town that he was cheating on his wife. “I need a dozen red roses and I will pick them up in 2 hours.”
    He picked up the bouquet for his wife and headed over to her office. With that famous cooky smile of his he walked down the hall. Everyone watched the familiar officer stroll past.
    “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said handing her the lovely bouquet.
    She blushed just a tiny bit before whispering, “I thought we were going to do something special tonight?”
    “We are, consider this an aphrodisiac.” He kissed her lightly and then headed back out to his cruiser. So far so good!
    He cruised the town for an hour before heading over to the new grocery store that also had a florist shop in it. After picking up the bouquet of red roses he headed over to the college. He walked this hall not so sure of himself, but still on a mission.
    She spotted him first, joining him in the hallway. “I can’t believe you came here, aren’t you worried someone would see you?”
    “Nope!”
    She whispered, “Thank you for the flowers.”
    When he got out to his cruiser he sent her a text. Meet me tonight at Famous Dave’s at 6:30.
    She responded. Are you sure?
    Positive!, He replied.

    Two down one to go.
    He continued with his normal routine getting a few calls from the dispatcher about a disturbance at a local pub. By the time he left the two hot heads were shaking hands.

    Late afternoon he swung into the last possible place he could score a dozen roses. He walked out of Wally World a happy man with another dozen red roses.
    Next stop was to the local veterinarian’s office, here though he didn’t enter the front door. He parked in the alley just behind the building. It was going to be hard to sneak in here without setting off a chorus of barks and howls. He slid inside and managed only to set off a few whimpers and growls. He found her in her office and instead of saying happy valentine’s day he barked till she looked up. With a huge smile she came around the desk and accepted the flowers.
    “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said for the third time that day.
    “Thank you, they are beautiful.”
    “So are you,” he said before sneaking back out. Reaching his cruiser he again makes the necessary text. Meet me at Famous Dave’s at 7PM.
    She replied in moments. Why
    He was getting good at this texting stuff. Because we deserve to be together on Valentine’s Day.
    She text back a simple ok.

    Hopefully he could pull this off, if he and his wife arrive at the restaurant at 6. His second date would arrive at 6:30 and the last one at 7.

    He was showered and waiting in the living room when his wife walked in the door.
    “Let me jump in the shower and then we can head out.”

    Good to her word she is ready in a very short time. She comes into the dinning room with a frown on her face. “Have you seen my black pumps?”
    “Nope!”
    She continues to search high and low but can not find them.
    “Hon we do have a reservation for 6 we need to get going.”
    “I’ll just have to wear another pair then.”

    They arrived right at 6 but the restaurant was running behind and they were offered a place at the bar until a table opened up. Now he was starting to sweet. There was bound to be more than rumors if he didn’t pull this off. At exactly 6:30 they were seated at a nice secluded table far away from the main entrance. He excused himself and went out to see if date number two was there yet. She was just walking in the door.
    He kissed her on the cheek and then escorted her to the bar. Just as they started to sit her cell phone rang.
    She looked at the caller ID. “It’s mom.”
    “Tell her you will caller her back later.”
    She did as she was asked and he ordered her a drink and then excused himself to go back to be with his wife for a few minutes.
    “What took you so long?” his wife asked.
    “I ran into someone and we were just catching up.”
    He ordered them an appetizer and then excused himself again. When he got back to the bar someone was hitting on his second date.
    “Excuse me but she is with me tonight,” he almost pouted. He notices date number three walk into the lobby. He escorts his second date as she carries her drink out into the lobby. The two women notice each other for the first time. They both look at him and simultaneously say, “What’s going on?”
    He wraps an arm around each of them and leads them back to where his wife is starting to get pretty angry. She looks up as the three enter the small room.
    As her eyes tear up she squeaks out, “Oh my God, how did you pull this off?”
    Laughing he admits, “It wasn’t easy, if I had suggested a family date both of our daughters would have come up with a reason why they couldn’t spend Valentine’s Day with their parents. I couldn’t let you in on it either because you can’t keep a secret.”
    Their youngest daughter offers, “I would have come anyway because I was going to ask you for a loan.”
    After everyone sat down the man who had been hitting on his oldest daughter stumbles into the room. “What gives you the right to tell me I can’t buy this young lady a drink?” The man had obviously had too much to drink and takes a hold of the girls arm. Her father starts to stand just as the drunk grabs a glass of water off the table and tosses it into his face.
    “That was your second mistake, the first one was to lay your hand on my daughter,” Officer Danno says as he flashes his badge at the man.

  15. Thanks everyone, I had fun. Ended up with over 1400 words and had to really condense it.

    • It’s always a tricky thing for me. Some people complain my word count requirements are too high, and some too low. I vary it each month so everyone gets a shot at their comfort zone. I’m certainly glad you managed to condense it, because you had a great story! Thanks for contributing 🙂

      • Wish I could go back and fix that typo. That will teach me to sit here typing while most people are sound asleep. But he is sweet!
        lol Thanks for allowing me to join your contest.

      • The unabridged version of mine is just under 2000 words, so I should stay out of this.

        • Lol, Bryden. Next months (March) will be even shorter to please the folks who are wanting lower word-counts than this one, but I may do one that goes up to 2000 the month after that (April). I’ve also got another idea up my sleeve that will give people more time to write for future contests, but I’ll wait until the winners are announced before getting into that.

  16. Great job Marla, I had a typo in mine too. That’ll teach me to not read it aloud before posting again. =)

  17. This is my first writing competition and I’m a little nervous. I haven’t read any of the stories listed above yet. I didn’t want to get intimidated. Thanks for the opportunity.

    The Unexpected – by M. Cheykota
    (1196 words)

    Charlotte opens the front door after fluffing her shoulder length, straight caramel colored hair to reveal a handsome man wearing a dark blue sweater and comfortable slacks standing on her doorstep with a nervous smile on his face. They admire each other for a moment and she quietly exhales in relief when she feels her insides twist in attraction. She also notices his anxious smile turns genuine as his dark blue eyes under dark eyelashes sparkle in delight. During his appraisal, Charlotte has to stop herself twice from adjusting her new, long-sleeve turquoise blouse that she bought earlier in the week when her good friend Margaret convinced her to go on a blind date.

    Before she can introduce herself, her teenage daughter yells for her from the other room. Charlotte flushes in embarrassment from her daughter’s behavior. Ignoring her daughter’s call, she introduces herself to her blind date quickly and invites him inside.

    Her date barely steps inside and is in the process of introducing himself when Charlotte’s daughter, Savannah, bounces into the room, stopping right next to her.

    “Mom, can I have twenty bucks for the movie tonight?” Savannah asks while her curious gaze moves over the man in appreciation while her open palm waits impatiently in front of her mother’s face.

    “Savannah, where are your manners?” Charlotte’s face heats in mortification as she searches through her purse for her wallet, desperate to get her daughter out the door.

    “Allow me.” Her date’s voice sends chills of excitement down her spine as she and Savannah watch him pull off a twenty-dollar bill from his thick money clip. He places the crisp bill in Savannah’s open palm.

    “Wow, thanks!” Savannah winks at him in thanks and whispers in her mother’s ear. “He’s hot mom. Have fun tonight and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

    Charlotte gives her date an apologetic look after Savannah runs out the front door. “Please forgive my daughter’s manners. I’ll pay you back…”

    “There is no need, Charlotte. Although I do not have children of my own, I find the presence of children uplifting and highly entertaining, especially teenagers.” He interrupts her with a small chuckle and reintroduces himself. “As I was saying before, I am Ben Stanton. Margaret has told me wonderful things about you Charlotte, but her vague description of you did not prepare me to expect such a beautiful woman as my date tonight.”

    Charlotte giggles, surprising herself by her adolescent behavior. “Thank you Ben.”

    “Are you ready to go? I have made dinner reservations at a restaurant nearby an acquaintance of mine recommended to me.” He asks while offering his arm to her.

    She can’t stop the grin from spreading on her face. “Let me just get my coat. I’m ready to go. Aren’t you going to be cold wearing just that sweater tonight? It’s still very chilly out.”

    Ben accepts her coat from the rack near the door and eases it up her arms, taking a little longer than necessary to adjust the collar. “Don’t worry Charlotte. My coat is in the car. I was only trying to impress you with my manly physique by appearing at your door without my coat.”

    She laughs at his obvious joke and follows him to his car, pleasantly surprised as he holds the passenger door of his luxury sedan open for her.

    They arrive at the restaurant less than 10 minutes later, just as the wind begins to pick up and water droplets sprinkle the windshield. Dashing inside the restaurant, Ben leaves a guiding hand on her back as the waiter escorts them to their table.

    “This place is really nice. It looks as if we arrived just in time. The storm seems to be picking up momentum.” Charlotte remarks as they settle in their seats.

    Ben glances out the window as sheets of water begin to drench the streets. The trees sway from side to side from the strong wind and heavy rain.

    “It’s a good thing that we’re inside.” Charlotte remarks as she picks up the menu for review. “It looks a
    little dangerous to be outside right now.”

    Ben opens his mouth to respond to her comment and pauses when the lights flicker before the entire restaurant plunges into darkness. Several people around them gasp in alarm as lightning brightens the room for a moment before a thunderous roar shakes the restaurant. A few minutes pass as waiters walk around the room, lighting candles that they place on everyone’s table. As the waiters are filling wine glasses, they inform everyone in the restaurant the kitchen will only be a slight delay in delivering their meals.

    Charlotte and Ben laugh at each other’s jokes over their candlelit dinner, taking their time to get to know each other. After sharing a delicious piece of lemon-raspberry cheesecake, Ben pays for their dinner, leaving a generous tip, and helps Charlotte into her coat. The storm is no longer raging, but the saturated street outside the restaurant has her grateful that Ben chose to use the valet service.

    They talk quietly to each other on the sidewalk while they wait for the valet to bring around Ben’s car. Ben is standing in front of her, his back to the street so he doesn’t notice how fast the valet’s approach to the curb is. Charlotte squeals softly in surprise and hides her head in foresight of what is to come. Curious about Charlotte’s alarm, he turns around just as the valet approaches the curb a little faster than he should. The water accumulated near the curb raises high into the air in an arc, splashing Ben directly in the face. Spluttering, Ben accepts a handkerchief from Charlotte as she fights hard not to laugh.

    “You could have warned me, you know.” Ben mumbles teasingly.

    Charlotte bursts into laughter, unable to contain her amusement any longer. A moment later, Ben joins her in laughter and waves off the valet’s apologies, removing his damp overcoat before climbing into the driver’s seat. Minutes later, Ben is walking Charlotte to her front door.

    “I had a really great time tonight Ben.” Charlotte admits honestly while fishing her keys out of her purse.

    “I did too. As far as blind dates go, I can say things did not go as smoothly as I had hoped.” Ben confesses while taking a step closer to her, closing the distance between them to less than a foot.

    “You have a wonderful sense of humor. I’m glad you didn’t allow the unexpected to ruin our evening.” She daringly moves a scant closer to him, looking deeply into his eyes.

    “Don’t you know I planned all those things to happen?” He jokes playfully. “I wanted to make sure our date was memorable.”

    Sensing her mutual desire, Ben slowly wraps an arm around her waist and cradles her cheek with the other. His lips brush hers softly, causing the air to leave her lungs with a soft sigh before he applies more pressure. He breaks their kiss, leaving both their bodies tingling with desire.

    “You just did.” Charlotte whispers against his lips.

    Ben returns to his car with a smug grin on his face.

    • M. Cheykota, I’m not normally one to read stories in the present tense, but I must say you did a fantastic job keeping me entertained. That was certainly a memorable date! Glad you took a chance in entering your story 🙂

    • Nice story. I enjoyed it a lot. 🙂 I’m very glad I’m not having to try to chose the shortlist!! Good luck Mistress….

    • I was probably just as nervous as you M. Cheykota! This is also my first time to enter a contest. Great story.

    • I’d say you did a great job…even better than I did. I’m thinking we all are in stiff competition. That’s okay it helps us in the long run become even better writers or so my friend just said. 🙂

      BTW: I have a kitty on my belly. He’s not sure that he likes this big black thing on my lap instead of him but he adjusts accordingly. 🙂

    • Very nice!! Sounds almost perfect to me!!

    • Nicely done MC…. That’s a good one as well.

  18. Aww, great job! Don’t be nervous we won’t bite….maybe…I’ll try…no promises =)

  19. […] stories were great and well worth sharing. Anyone who has not read them yet can see all of them here.  The following contestant’s are the ones who are up for voting.  Please do congratulate […]

  20. […] Want to read all of the submissions?  February Competition Page on MoMotDP Share this:FacebookLinkedInTwitterEmailLike this:LikeBe the first to like this post. […]

  21. […] of the other contestant’s entries can be viewed here.  I am truly pleased to see so many people were inspired to contribute their stories.  The next […]

  22. […] The Mistress’s February Competition Page  – all of the details, rules and entries for February on Susan’s website. Share this:FacebookLinkedInTwitterEmailLike this:LikeBe the first to like this post. […]

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