Category Archives: Fiction

Tree of Life: Chimera: Selkie Vow

This is for Samantha Redstreake Geary‘s latest Audiomachine ‘Tree of Life’ promotion writerly contest. Choose your favourite ‘Tree of Life’ track and write up to 150 words…
My favourite tracks are ‘Rebirth’, ‘Homecoming’ and ‘Day One’…and track #10 ‘Homecoming’ fit this story perfectly.

Photograph by Lisa Shambrook, Streamzoo and Pixlromatic

(Please do not use without permission)

Click and play ‘Homecoming’ in the background as you read…each paragraph accompanies a section of the music…

Selkie Vow

She flicked her tail and gazed across the foaming crests, huge black eyes rested on two silhouettes on the beach. Her heart pounded within her ribcage and as the sun began to drop she allowed its warm rays to caress her glistening skin as water lapped against her rock.

She slid into the water, swimming with ease against the outgoing tide. Seals bobbed in acquiescence as she slipped through the rippling waves.

Reaching the shore, she rested and flipped her tail, splashing one last time. Sun bathed her body as she stepped out of her pelt. A smile painted her lips as she ran a finger down the white lace draping the rock. Silk clung to her form as she crossed the sand. Before the priest, she turned to her love offering both a smile, as radiant as the evening sun, and her treasured pelt.
And there two destinies entwined.

(150 Words excluding title)

For further insight to this story, please read ‘Stay’ …

Fall Flash Festival: Autumn Flame

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This is for Eric Martell and Daniel Swensen‘s Fall Flash Festival…Autumn is and forever will be my most favourite season! Click here to join in the fun!

Autumn Flame © Lisa Shambrook (with pixlromatic)

Autumn Flame

Heat seared, sizzling across parched earth, and the cloudless sky, a hothouse dome, desiccated leaves and flora. Listless and languid, folk wandered aimlessly, unable to bear the sultry oppression and Summer’s impasse.Her eyes darted from house to house; windows wide, porch doors open, and dogs sleeping with lolling tongues and trails of slobber. Inside, people rested hot and sticky, irascible and ornery. Her brow furrowed and she stared across the yellowed hills. Autumn was late.As the sirocco tickled her frazzled mind she swept her jade skirts high up into the hills and sought out a crevice, a deep, dark crevice. She gathered her volumes of green about her and traipsed inside. The welcome cool whispered and the ground sighed with each step she took, until she paused and stared at the vast lump curled up before her.

She prodded the lump.

Light mist rose in the shadows and she spoke, “Wake up!”

…

This is a preview to the story that can be found within A Symphony of Dragons. It has become one part of my symphony, a composition, of A Symphony of Seasons… You can find this enchanting book of short stories in many outlets in both paperback and eBook or at my publisher BHC Press.

Autumn Flame won the Honourable Mention in the Fall Flash Festival.

Read previews to Spring’s and Winter’s tales: Spring Symphony and Winter Hope.

‘My Friends and I’ – Lionheart

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Picture taken by Lisa Shambrook (please do not use)

Lionheart

Jasper dismounted and landed with a soft thud. Clouds of swirling dust eddied and clung to his boots, but his eyes were fixed on the foreboding mountain before him. Dawn’s pale light tickled the edge of morning, as Jasper strode purposefully towards the foothill.

Already exhausted from days of travel, nights beneath the stars, and years of battle across the border, he paused at the foot of the mountain and rested his hand upon the hilt of his sword. He took a moment to drop to his knees and bow his head. He rose with newfound strength, and stared up into the depths of the giant silhouetted before him. His neck arced as he traced the lines of the mountain, until his eyes picked out a tower cut into the side of the cliff, not far from the top.

He could have ridden up with ease in the saddle upon his dragon, but this was a journey that needed to be made by foot.

Jasper checked the straps on his pack and quickly downed a mouthful from his water skin, before glancing up again at the tiny tower. The sun rose behind the mountain and barely any light crept to the bottom of the track. He looked over his shoulder; his dragon was curled beneath a crop of rocks, soothing away the endless days of travel in heavy slumber. Faint rays shimmered across his scales, and Jasper smiled.

He was up the lower slopes by the time the sun peered over the summit, and moving onto the less traversed trail. The going was tough, but the pathway ascended and Jasper climbed.

Rocks and crags jutted across the path, and Jasper began to swelter in the midday sun as he ducked and vaulted under and over stony obstacles. The ruthless heat pervaded the shade, beads of sweat glistened on his brow and muscles complained. His ragged breath growled in his throat but he knew the journey was worth making.

He sank down onto a boulder and rubbed his calves. He laughed, imagining how good icy water would taste, but this mountain was dry and he gulped down a mouthful of tepid water from his skin instead. He stared up into the peak, the tower was hidden behind the stack of rock before him, but he knew she watched and waited, and he wasn’t about to let her down, again.

He tightened a boot buckle and rose from the ground, smoothed down his jerkin and pushed up his sleeves. The path got steeper and, as the sun baked, Jasper pushed on. Loose rock made the path harder and the heat beat down upon his damp hair. Red streaks shone through his auburn locks, and dark, wet straggles stuck to his face. Rivulets of sweat ran down his scarred cheek, down his neck and across his taut chest. He paused and loosened his leather tunic, releasing buckles and opening the neck of his shirt. As he climbed, Jasper sighed with relief as the relentless path cut through high tors and finally moved out of the sun.

Memories coursed through his mind as he rested; battles out on the field, the clang of sword and the weight of armour. Blood curdling screams and cries of triumph echoed, and he wondered if she’d forgiven him for leaving her?

He lifted his hand to his chest and fingered a scar running from his shoulder to his heart. The offending sword should have run him through, but a side step he’d learned while sparring with her as a child had saved him. Now he was coming home, and nothing was going to stop him.

He climbed, even though the path was now gone and the trail nothing more than a narrow ridge on the edge of the precipice. He climbed through the glare of the afternoon sun, until a prominence blocked his way, and the ridge faded beneath his feet.

He balanced, hugging the bluff, his eyes scanning and his fingers feeling desperately around the protrusion for a notch, a nook, anything… Fear rose, a flame of dread curling within his belly, and he glanced back at the rock face stretching behind him. There was no other way, no other path, and yet, his way was barred and he had nowhere to go.

Beyond the overhang, the roof of the tower peeked enticingly, but the rock yielded nothing beneath his fingers.

His heart dropped, until a sweet voice spoke softly. “We can move mountains…”

He shook his head trying to rid his brain of delirium.

“We can move mountains…but we must move them together…” Her voice hung in the cloying air as he balanced, and his aural hallucination extended to other senses as the scent of honeyed neroli wafted on the breeze.

He hugged the cliff and stretched his hand around the lump of rock. A kiss settled like a butterfly on the back of his hand and then two strong hands gripped his. His mind whirled with impossibility and recollection of gymnastic moves learned when he was young. What he’d learned on the battlefield would serve nothing up here, but her gravity defying acrobatics filled his mind.

“Move this mountain aside…” came her command and he acquiesced, allowing her strength to pull and flip him as he jumped. His arm twisted, and his shoulder was almost wrenched from its socket as he rotated in the air with death-defying grace, but he landed beside her on the other side of the plateau.

She stood in glory, her lithe figure clad in leather and her golden hair a shining halo in the evening sun. Green eyes twinkled, “You do, indeed, have a lion’s heart!” her voice rang out, but before she could say another word, he leaned close, placed his impatient lips against hers and claimed his lioness.

(970 Words)

After taking part in a couple of music based fiction writing works, I joined Ruth Long’s band of writers to write for an album called:

‘My Friends and I’.

Ruth’s friend Big Earl Matthews put out a CD, put together by a group of local bands. Ruth masterminded an idea for a writing/music promotion, merging several creative forces and disciplines. Thirteen writers: M.L. Gammella; Ruth Long; Sarah Aisling; Lillie McFerrin; Jenn Monty; Jeff Tsuruoka; Lisa Shambrook; Lizze Koch; Samantha Geary; Nick Johns; L.E. Jamez; Jeff Hollar; Bradley Richter joined forces and wrote 1,000 words each inspired by the song of their choice.

Cover Art by Micah Van Zandt

An ebook has been produced (Links to be added when book live) and the artwork donated by the talented Micah Van Zandt – artist, musician and performer. He used the writers’ pictures to design an ebook cover, mimicking the CD cover.

I chose a gorgeous and evocative track by Sommer Cooks called ‘Lionheart’.

The CD ‘My Friends and I’ is available from: Amazon and CDBaby, or you can listen on Spotify.

Here is the album’s Kickstarter page.

Monday Mixer: Scent

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Scent

As she ran all she could hear was the susurrus of the murmuring leaves as they swirled about her, and she quickened her pace. She slowed stepping carefully through winding vines and convolvulus, still decorated with scattered diamonds of dew. She paused, one foot still aloft, and flared her nostrils. Heavy petrichor rose from the forest floor masking the scent she tracked. Her foot dropped and she stood silent, listening.
The breeze still whispered, and her mind whirled as scents mingled. Flora’s fragrance intermingled with fungi and soil’s pungent aroma, and different odours emanated from the undergrowth, confusing her and sending her into a tailspin.
She raised her nose, but the scent had vanished.
Just mere months since Christmas and here she was lost and abandoned. Her meretricious collar, now studded with dull zircona, had long since snapped…and she settled in the leaf mulch with a maudlin whine, to wait.

(150 Words)

Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (Please do not use without permission)

Written for Monday Mixer over at Jeff’s Latinum Vault. A challenge which requires only 150 words and the use of three or more word prompts. As this has five prompts, it fits for Overachiever, if so desired. Go and read all the other 150 word tales!

Five Sentence Fiction: Beauty

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Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (Please do not use without permission)

Ice shimmered across the road and his feet struggled to stay upright; he winced as the stony trail threatened to cut through his thin soles and carve into the blisters holding his feet together. Bony fingers, wrapped in bandages to protect against the fierce northern chill, grasped a tiny, glass ampoule, as if life depended on it. His trek was almost over, and the sun had almost vanished behind the needle spikes of mountains beyond the village, and he was almost home.

In a tiny cottage far inside the village, a candle shone in the window, and the light in the traveller’s weary eyes flickered with the fullness of midday sun as he pushed through the doorway. His blackened fingers held the flask steady as enchanted liquid slipped softly past her cracked lips; it only offered another mere few months, but he’d make that trek over, and over, and over, if it gave his wife even another single moment.

I haven’t done Five Sentence Fiction for a bit, but who can resist a word like Beauty? There is so much beauty around us, do we recognise it?

Check out all the other pieces at Lillie’s Five Sentence Fiction…

Blues Buster: Stay

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Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (Please do not use without permission)

Stay

He let his fingers drag across her shoulder, drawing lazy circles over her silky skin. He shivered, goose bumps erupting as the cool breeze danced across the beach, and he held her close.
She moved her head to gaze into his dark eyes, and her lips curled into a smile as she pulled his arms tighter across her breast. Her lips parted and she licked them, and the salty taste of desire flared within his soul. She shifted slightly, leaning into the crook of his arm and back against his bare chest. Her hair tickled his chin and emotions rose within his belly; desire tinged with yearning and a splash of regret.
He closed his eyes, emptying his mind of sorrow and pain. Seagulls rose and fell on the currents and cawed at the water spread before them, and he knew time was running out. The moon had faded into the sapphire sky many hours ago and dawn peeped over the horizon, a sliver of pink against the black ocean.
She sighed, a tiny, contented sound, and he wrapped his arms around her. His eyes flickered open and he rested his chin upon her head, and felt her body relax between his thighs. His chest shuddered as emotion overwhelmed him and his embrace tightened as if he’d never let her go. She stroked his forearm, leaning forward to kiss the upstanding hairs on his arm, her breath mingling with the cool, salty air.
Salmon pink infused the sky, painting the underside of heavy, drifting clouds. Moments later, fat drops of rain fell and he felt her change. Electricity surged and he buried his face trying to delay the inevitable. He could barely hold himself together and left a dozen kisses in her silky tresses. Horizon’s pink blush deepened, as did the ache that penetrated his entire being. She shifted again, her body waking and stretching, and he slowly released her.
She wriggled away and turned to kneel against him. Her arms embraced his slick shoulders, her wet cheek pressed against his face, her lips sought his, and the rain fell in a shower of kisses.
They broke apart, and she cupped his face in her hands and whispered words of love. He kissed her back, his lips melting against hers and his tongue teasing the fire that blazed, but she pulled away, slowly, leaning back on her heels and stood.
He stared at her silhouette, black against the rising morn, and his heart burst with love.
“Stay…” he whispered, barely audible above the wild horses of the ocean.
She shook her head and waited. The fiery clouds wandered and he sucked in a deep breath. Her gaze never left his face as she smiled in the rain and waited, patiently, and then he reached behind him and drew a silky fur across his legs. He stroked it gently, and dawn’s light shimmered across the glistening pelt, as he rested it across his arm and rose, taking her hand.
Down at the ocean’s edge, he wrapped the skin around her shoulders and held her close, kissing her with everything he had. She turned in his arms and reclaimed her pelt, shimmying skilfully into it, and then she dropped away and returned to the sea.
If she stayed, if she ever stayed, it would be her choice…and, for now, he let the ocean swallow his heart.

(564 Words)

Written for Jeff’s Blues Buster at The Tsuruoka Files. I listened to the song ‘Stay’ by Hurts and loved it…so had to write!

This story is dedicated to Sophie Moss…for obvious reasons! And to Miranda (Purple Queen) because she loves Hurts! x

Illumination: Remember Me…

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Play this piece of music whilst reading…

‘Remember me feat David Christiansen’ – Michael Maas ‘Piano and Strings Edition’

Let the music take you to another world,

read slow and allow the music to dictate…

Photograph and Dragon by Lisa Shambrook (Please do not use)

Remember Me…

Huge, ivory wings trembled as he lifted higher, rising through misty wraiths of memories, and he shivered in the cold, crystalline dawn. Heavy sighs wafted as his breath mingled with daybreak’s swirling, frosty veils. Still climbing, fighting his overwhelming desire to rest, he passed through dawn’s penumbra out into morning’s gilded rays. Dew shimmered across his age-worn wings, and muted bows cast soft reflections across his iridescent scales.

The dragon drew strength from the pale golden light and ascended, lifting higher with every gust that caressed his wearied wings. He circled, and rose above the mountain peak before bursting out of the feathery plumes into the glorious azure sky.

One last time he soared, rising into the sun’s intoxicating warmth, before gliding, floating, dropping and landing in soft, virgin snow. There, the spent creature, the very last of the magnificent Krystallos, released his final breath… a spiral of lost snowflakes…

(150 Words)

This is written for Samantha Redstreake Geary’s Illumination challenge. Michael Maas’s release of ‘Illumination’ and ‘Piano and Strings Edition’ offers some stunning music and some beautiful tracks to write for. 150 words or less on the track of your choice and I chose ‘Remember Me (feat David Christiansen)’ from Michael Maas’s ‘Piano and Strings Edition’.

Go and read all the beautiful pieces…

Flash in the Pen: Glimmer

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Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (please do not use without permission)

Glimmer

Thinking was dangerous, and outlawed, and out of the question.
Thinking, beyond mundane, dull practicalities, meant losing your mind.
You thought about your task, your function, nothing else mattered. You certainly didn’t.

Anna had lived seventeen years without thinking…but today, she noticed something. It was just a sliver of light, shining in through the skylight, dust dancing in its ray.
No one heard the chip in her brain implode and the light behind her eyes faded to nothing, but those last moments, those thoughts had been a lifetime to Anna and she faded in serenity.

Anna dropped to the floor, her limbs lifeless, and landed in a crumpled heap. Not one eyelid flickered amongst her co-workers, not a beat missed in the production line, except Anna’s last bottle, and her loss was singularly evidenced by a lone, topless bottle disappearing into the distance.

Down on the floor, the dusty floor, something happened.
Neurons, excited neurons, did something unheard of and danced. They flashed and blinked, sparked and ignited, and waltzed through Anna’s brain. Nerve endings grew, pulses raced and synapses began to leap. Anna’s little finger twitched, her eyelid trembled and light exploded inside her head.
As she came round, pain seared through her body, and fingers unconsciously scrabbled on the dirty floor.
The high-pitched hum in Anna’s head kept her down, until enough nerves had connected to produce thought. The hum abated and Anna’s perception intensified until she could move her hand herself, and she was enveloped in a completely new wonder.
Thought, real cognitive reflection filled her brain and Anna consciously clenched her fist. Her left eye opened wide, dust motes swam, and the light from the roof rained down into her soul, every ray a miracle.
Myriad thoughts battled inside her head, and her reflexes blanked them out, slowly letting them in one at a time. She tried to move, to rise from the floor, but the right side of her body struggled and took huge effort to coordinate.
Autonomy flooded her mind, and thought reeled as she resisted her buried identity, but a violent surge of recollection broke through in an explosion of colour, and Anna was up on her feet. She was unsteady; the neural chip implosion had resulted in brain damage, and she was blind in her right eye, her right shoulder hung loose and her right foot dragged as she limped across the factory floor.
Rays of golden sun flared across the grimy windows and Anna ran, racing towards the cracked pane of glass and the shaft streaming in from the skylight.

She was awake, alive and lucid.

She jerked as a strident siren rudely interrupted her lunge for escape, as her topless bottle was finally detected. The discordant noise blasted through the silence and she quickened her pace.
Anna aimed her right side at the fractured window which shattered as she plunged through.
Bathed in blood and glorious sunlight, Anna basked and new-found intuition sent her running for the gilded, sun-drenched hills.

(500 Words)

This was written for a new Flash Fiction challenge, Flash in the Pen thought up by Regina West…a monthly challenge a prompt and a 500 word (or as near as) piece. Go take a look at the others in her comments.

Mine was inspired by Regina’s prompt; MIND and also by a small 100 word flash piece that I wrote for last year’s Blogflash 2012: Thinking.

Monday Mixer: Scorned…

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Photograph by Bekah Shambrook (Please do not use)

Scorned…

The walls spun and draconian drum beats thudded through his hangover, splitting his head. His socked feet slid on the swanky marble floor and a painful schism seared through his ankle as he raced to the window.

She’d posited her argument last night, but he’d been too drunk to garner his thoughts and his mouth, and what he thought had begun in playful, sportive fashion had quickly descended into a drunken nightmare. She’d forgiven embezzlement, peculation she’d called it, but this was a step too far and she was calling in the heavies, yes, her words ‘the heavies’!

He’d offered diamonds, cash, anything, in vain, and now his hand gingerly massaged his temple. His stomach heaved as the mawkish aroma of failure and vomit overwhelmed him as did the horrific stench of slurry, rising in a steaming haze from the pile in the driveway right where his Lamborghini was parked.

(150 Words)

Hmmm…so I plan to relax and fit only a few of the requisite three out of the nine prompts into my Monday Mixer over at Jeff’s Latinum Vault, so why, oh why do I keep going for Overachiever? ‘Cause it’s fun! This week the words put themselves there…and I had all nine before I realised it! Go read the rest and enjoy!

Five Sentence Fiction: Learning

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Photograph (pencil sketch of Cait) by Lisa Shambrook (please do not use)

Tears filled her eyes, unbidden, as she gazed at a pastel portrait of herself. A five or six-year-old child gazed back at her, with wide chocolate-brown eyes and messy, light-brown hair framing delicate childish features. Her mum had pencilled in a halo of daisies threaded through her hair and coloured them with pastels. The innocent beauty on the page entranced her and broke her, it was the first time she’d ever seen herself through the eyes of another. It was more beautiful than any photograph she’d seen, and more delicate than any mirror image she could ever remember.