Lily's Friday Prediction

The moon draws full today, here in the south of England. Last night I watched her pendulous glory rise in the red sky. From now until mid-November the veil is at its very thinnest - and I for one can't wait to go exploring.

Well done to Sulci Collective for winning last week's challenge (see previous post). Today's words plucked from my battered encyclopaedic dictionary are:

• Doom (honest!)
• Throne
• Intrusive

100 words max, please - flash fiction or poetry using all of the words above. You have all week to enter. Winner will be announced next Friday. Please tweet about your entry, using #fridayflash if possible.

Is it safe to invite you in...?

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Prediction Winner

I've decided to announce the winner of last Friday's challenge on a short post before today's Friday Prediction starts.

Last week saw two newcomers Sulci Collective and AidanF who both gave us stunning little flashes, so thanks to them.

I, and other contributors commented fully at the time, so here is a summary:

• Sulci Collective's torrent of words took us into the primal fire of destruction and rebirth.
• Chris Allinotte's The Final Sitting playfully mixed art and demons - as is only right.
• AidanF captured us with a magickal dark fairytale of blood and mirrors.
• My piece Burning Shame saw a neglected toddler reaching for her smouldering baby-doll.
• David Barber's Peace, At Last painted a haunting picture of a living portrait.
• Joleen's The Victory Bonfire declared vengeance with execution by fire.

Excellent flash fiction, all. And whilst each and every piece evoked emotion and atmosphere the winner is Sulci Collective. Sulci's words had me bathing in primordial energy, raging fire feeding the salamander as man-made creation died all around. Congratulations Sulci!

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Oh, The Mission Predicted It All

One of my fave old (true) Goth bands The Mission wrote a fantastic, vicious, hateful song Mercenary. It's full of invective, spitting anger and lots and lots of 'F' words (ooh!) It was written in 1990 - when I left the UK after Thatcher screwed the country and sent it to its knees.

After today's Spending Review in the UK this is the song I've been playing all evening. Indulge me and view it below if you fancy joining me in a rant. No proper vid I'm afraid but it helpfully provides the marvellous lyrics to sing along to. It so helps when chopping the veg...

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The Infanta Triptych

I am exquisitely pleased that a piece I've been working on for weeks The Infanta Triptych has been accepted into Red Skies Press' Their Dark Masters anthology. Editor Mark Anthony Crittenden asked for my piece Walls of Flesh a little while ago and I promised him something extra.

The story's about an ancient set of three conjoined paintings, the subjects of which are vicious, bloodthirsty and diabolical. And they like to play.

I'm very proud to be part of this antho. It has some great authors - Lee Hughes, Barry J. Northern, Mark himself, Erin Cole, Tyree Campbell, Gregory Miller, Melissa Farrar and others. It's going to be a tight fright and I can't wait to see it in print.

Thanks Mark for being such an encouraging and supportive editor.

Might post a teaser shortly before the book is published...

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Pustula Peculiar joins Daily Bites of Flesh

So I'm watching some dark and dirty Kings of Leon vids and get an email from Jessy Marie Roberts, Pill Hill Press editor to say my Zombietta short story Pustula Peculiar has been accepted into Daily Bites of Flesh 2011. The track I'm listening to is the perfect theme tune.

Pustula Peculiar joins my earlier piece Spangles. It's always nice to double up.

There are loads of great authors in this 365 day anthology. Can't wait to get it.

Thanks Jessy!

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Lily's Friday Prediction

Hmmmn, just five (excellent) entries last week. Let's get the word out there today!

To review, Chris Allinotte gave us a beautiful horror story; ghostly and divine. Joleen's atmospheric Walk-In tale made me shiver in my (thigh-length) boots. Sue Harding treated us to complacent urban murder - highly disturbing. David Barber's vampiric neck-fest in misty Montmartre sent a delicious frisson. My own eponymous blade-wielding, junkie, hooker, tarot reader - well - I'm sure she had a kind heart really.

My winner is... Joleen with 'The Tourist' because I liked the eerie twist and complete change in emotion from calm pleasure to fear as the story progressed. Congratulations Joleen!!

This weeks words are:

• Absorbent
• Portrait
• Bonfire

Rules, as always. 100 words max flash fiction or poetry using all of the words above. Please post in the Comments box below. If you tweet, please tweet about your entry when it's in - #fridayflash. Thanks.

Do your worst (read 'best').

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Grub Up

Just hawking up another oldie. Grub Up was first published on Thrillers Killers 'n' Chillers in May 2009. It's a tasty little thing I thought I might regurgitate just to share with you.

GRUB UP by Lily Childs

Vanessa was skeletal. I could barely get any meat off her bones so I just gnawed away at the stringy flesh. Sinews snapped back at my face; her bone marrow was measly to say the least. I sighed. I’d starve at this rate.

I sat back and surveyed the remains of my late cousin. I’d tried, so hard to turn her away when I found her at my front door.

‘Only passing by. Haven’t seen you for ages; thought I’d pop in’.

She was through the door before I could push her out. Apparently she didn’t know I have certain tastes. And that I’ve been particularly hungry lately.

I was still ravenous, despite my skinny-size meal, but I knew it was risky to go out hunting because I get careless going in for the kill. Yet thoughts of feeding made saliva drip in my mouth, washing my gums, plumping my tongue.

I hesitated, wanting to dare, needing to feast. No. I couldn’t do it; it was too dangerous. I’d have to go without. Dejected I slumped down onto the threadbare sofa and grazed on Vanessa’s innards. I jumped as the phone rang. Snatching it off its cradle I answered.

‘Who is it?’

‘Is she there?’

‘What?’ I didn’t recognise the voice.

‘It’s Ben, Vanessa’s boyfriend. I’m outside your building. Is she there?’ My heart smiled and I spoke to the pining lover.

‘Yes Ben. She’s here. She’s sitting in the corner. Come on up – we’ll wait for you.’

I hung up the phone, leaving it off the hook. Quickly I formed my cousin’s leftovers into a skeletal pyre, burying her long red hair in its centre; its scalp still attached. Returning to the window I lingered, watching fat boy make his way across the street. The juices were already stirring in my belly.

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