Welcome to the Spot Writers Club. Today is our first gift to you – a free read. Four of us will be posting stories to our blogs for your enjoyment every Thursday from now on. Today’s contribution comes from RC Bonitz, author of A LITTLE BIT OF BLACKMAIL and A BLANKET FOR HER HEART.
Next week’s story will be by Val Muller, author of FOR WHOM MY HEART BEATS ETERNAL, a sci-fi romance, and CORGI CAPERS: DECEIT ON DORSET DRIVE, a mystery novel for young readers.
Check out our blogs at the end of this story. You’ll also be hearing from Jessica and Cathy in the next few weeks.
This week’s story has a special treat. It has a secret. If you’re the first to guess what it is you’ll win one of RC’s books.
by RC Bonitz
Purple clouds and golden yellow light painted a glowing sunset as she leaned against the railing of the dock. She hugged herself against the chill of the September breeze. The other people on the dock ignored her, fishing and talking to each other as if she were a shadow in the falling darkness.
Never mind, she would not brood. So, her kid sister would be married Saturday. And her best friend tied the knot last month. She didn’t need a guy, no way. Biological clock be damned. Of course, at thirty-three, she still had a chance.
A gust of wind whipped her hair around her head. She squeezed her collar tighter against the chill, but didn’t move. Home had no appeal at the moment and she didn’t mind the cold. She glanced at the plastic tub beside one of the fishermen and smiled. It held one tiny fish barely as long as her hand.
Something jerked her collar very hard and the tiniest prick of pain stabbed at her neck.
“Damn it,” someone said on the other side of the dock.
She tried to turn, but that pain jabbed her neck again as another pull almost yanked her backwards. “Hey, what are you doing?”
“Oh crap, I’m sorry,” the voice said.
The tug at her collar eased and she turned. The tip of a fishing rod poked her in the cheek. She jumped. That little jab in her neck stabbed her again, sharp and painful. “What are you doing? Trying to kill me?”
The guy just stood there, fishing rod in hand, his face shadowed by a hoodie in the fading light. “I’m sorry. My bad. Don’t move, okay?”
She stared at him, then felt the little pricker thing poking at her neck. Reaching up to remove it, her arm tangled in a piece of fishing line. And the pricker thing stabbed her again. “Ouch. What happened? Am I hooked?”
“Let me see where you’re caught. I’m so sorry. Just hold still,” he said, and removing a knife from his belt, he cut the line.
“What are you doing?”
“Does it hurt a lot?”
“No, it’s sort of like a pin prick.”
He pushed back his hood and smiled. “That’s good. The hook didn’t go in very far.” He stepped toward her, gathering up loose line, then used the knife to cut it away. Almost in her face, he stopped, stared at her for just a second, then put a very strong hand on her shoulder and turned her around. “I’ll have you free in a minute.”
He stood behind her, moving her hair about, then tugging at her jacket and brushing ever so lightly the skin of her neck. She shivered.
“I’m sorry. My hands are cold. What’s your name?”
“Maggie. What’s yours?”
“Dan. I owe you a new jacket.”
“What? This is my favorite coat.”
“You’re bleeding a little too.” He crossed the dock to a ratty looking tacklebox.
“I’m bleeding? What did you do?”
“I screwed up making a cast and hooked you,” he said, returning with a Band-Aid.
His fingers went to her neck again, carefully applying the Band-Aid.
“Have you had a tetanus shot lately? You better play it safe.”
“Oh great,” she said, the words barely a whisper. He had such great eyes and he looked so concerned.
“Actually, I think it is.”
“We’ll have to go shopping together for your jacket. And I’ll have to make sure you get a tetanus shot. So, if you’ll forgive me, I think this will be just fine.” He gave her the sweetest smile.
The Spot Writers- our members.
Catherine A. MacKenzie – https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/
Jessica Degarmo – http://www.jessicadegarmo.com/
RC Bonitz – http://www.rcbonitz.com
Val Muller – http://www.valmuller.com/blog/