Celebratory Writing Contest!

As I mentioned yesterday, A Little Too Far, the fabulous new adult novel by the amazingly talented Lisa Desrochers, released yesterday.

If you haven't bought it yet, I don't know what you're waiting for, but...

I'm celebrating this release and accommodating a request for another 100 word writing contest.

Here are the details:
You need to write a short story (100 words or less!) using these five words:


Post your story in the comments of this post by 11:59 pm on September 21st.

What do you win?
A paperback copy of A Little Too Far by Lisa Desrochers


Your choice: either a first page critique or a query critique--good for you or a friend if you're feeling generous.

Can't wait to see what you come up with!

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Dan Krokos said...

The room was hot and smoky with incense. My step-brother was flat on the bed. His eyes were rolled back, his lashes fluttering. This was a moment of peace, the priest said. Soon he’d be thrashing again.

Help him, I begged. How much do you want?

It’s not a matter of money, the priest replied. He’s too far gone.

My step-brother inhaled. In his mouth I could see hell. And then he began to scream.

Anthony said...
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Anthony said...

“Come with me,” the priest says, his eyes burning with power. He’s come to return us to labor in the hot, soul-stealing pits of Nefarion—the gates of Hell. “Or I’ll have to force you.” A devilish smile crawls onto his lips.

I push my young step-brother behind me.

“No!” I lunge at the priest. He dodges, latching onto me.

I flash around. “Run, Aaron! Go! Get as far as you can!”

There is so much terror in his eyes, but he obeys, fleeing.

Laughing, the priest whispers in my ear. “He won’t escape for long. No one ever does…”

Rochelle said...

To say our wedding day is hot is like saying Johnny Depp is sort of attractive. Why do I have to be Catholic? My long-sleeved dress weighs half as much as I do. We parade around in Texas heat and the damn photographer expects me to smile.

“Move closer to the one in the dress,” he shouts. “You’re much too far away.”

Way to narrow it down. Oh. He meant my step-brother, who was doubling as the priest of our ceremony. “They’re called vestments.”

Happiest day of my life? Not quite. I'm looking forward to the open bar.

Unknown said...

“Having much fun?”

Gillian cringed at the stink of booze on her step-brother’s breath.

She yelled over the din. “Where did you find a priest costume on such short notice?”

“Vicar costume,” Allan said.


“This side of the pond, we call them Tarts and Vicars!”

“Whatever.” Gillian sipped her water.

These sorts of parties had never been her thing. Too loud. Too hot. And the fishnets itched in places she wouldn’t dare scratch in public.
Still, she hadn’t come this far to turn back now. As soon as David walked in the room, it would all be worth it.

Ambiguous_A said...

He called himself “Priest.”

That’s as much as I heard, pressing myself against the oven, my breath clinging to the hot glass in semi-transparent bursts. Someone was in our dining room with Priest. The someone my step-brother had begged me with a somber, quiet voice not to investigate.

Beyond the wall, Priest shifted weight and the floorboards groaned. His movement incited a moan of… pleasure?...from the person with him.

And I went cold, core-cold. Because I recognized that voice.

So this was what going too far felt like. The point of no return that came after tasting the truth.

I threw up.

Ellie said...

John’s step-brother, Paul, was a priest—which turned out perfectly because John was a scoundrel, so it evened the family out.

When John and Paul sit down at the docks on hot summer nights, gazing far off into the horizon as the lobster boats came in. John would check out the fine ladies, and Paul would scold him.

“I don’t think your wife would much like you staring at the ladies.” Paul would say, already knowing how the conversation would go.

John would laugh and say, “just because you’re on a diet, doesn’t mean you can’t look at the menu.”

heycatharsis said...
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heycatharsis said...

I stood on tiptoes and kissed my step-brother for the millionth time since I told him goodbye.

“One more time, Anna.”

Our lips- hot, convulsing- crushed again. And again.

Outside the office, a lamp flickered, slivering through the curtain to fall on my eyes. A voice and another whispered.

“Umh…goodbye.” Not that I wanted to. I could never want to.

His shoulders sagged.

“You’re a priest now, we…” my words trailed off.


The light died down and I hurried out of the office, wondering how much the voices had seen, if we’ve tempted fate too far this last time.

Meg said...

The Priest stood by the stained-glass windows. He stared as the rain dripped down Mary Magdalene’s face, mirroring the feelings he kept hidden. He gathered as much strength as possible and faced Jason.

Jason’s eyes were red hot, mouth curving into a cruel slash.

“So, Father,” Jason mocked. “What in Heaven’s name are you going to do?”

His harsh laugh sliced through flesh, bone, and wounded the Priest’s soul. What could he do? Jason was his beloved step-brother.

Bound by duty, the Priest launched the sword. He was so far away, but the sword struck home. His tears finally fell.

Ashley said...

I’m not a priest. Far from it, but I feel like one when my step-brother and his girlfriend tumble into the living room, tripping over each other, arms entangled, lips pressed together.

It’s hot in here. I’m dripping with sweat and I have no idea how they can stand touching.

Troy catches my eye and pulls Katrina to his side. “What do you think you’re looking at, you little creep?”

My eyes follow Katrina’s hand as two of her fingers tuck inside Troy’s shorts. I can’t believe I’m in this situation again. But I am and it’s too much.

Unknown said...
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Unknown said...

“He’s been trailing you for days, you know.”

I glance around before answering. “Um wow, creepy much?”

Most people around here think my mom is crazy. I wouldn’t go as far as saying that, a bit delusional may be more accurate.

“Who, Mom?” I ask “Ben or the Priest?”

She watches me a moment “Your step-brother.”

“Dang, I was hoping for the Priest again, that was kind of hot.” I sober at her stern look.

“Okay, okay...” I say. “What does he want?”

Her gray eyes go dark. “I think you already know.”

cmboers said...

Hot did not even begin to describe what I felt standing at the base of this mountain. My step-brother was far up the side; his fiancé trailing close behind. The priest was waiting at the top watching the spectacle.

“I can’t do it.” I said to thin air.

The nervous sweat on my hands made the rock much more slippery. My shrieks filled the air as I fell, my eyes squeezed shut. I would surely die. I hit the ground, dust billowing up around me. Laughter filled the dead quiet.

“You were only two feet off the ground,” they said.

Booklish said...

"God is never far, Son. Through hot and cold, through highs and lows, He's always by your side."

"How come they stabbed you then? Where was God? Why didn't you shoot? You had my gun," my step-brother yelled at the dying priest who lay there in a pool of blood.

"Forgive them for they know not what they are doing...have you forgotten, son? Jesus himself spilled his blood for our sins."

"But why you, Father?" he said crying.

"The strong sheep endure much. The weakest get the greenest grass. Bless me with strength, O Lord!" Another word didn't roll out.

Abigail Johnson said...

The priest pronounced our parents husband and wife and my new step-brother turned a shade much whiter than his mother’s wedding dress. The teal taffeta scratched my hot, bruised skin as I caught his eye and silently willed him to calm down. We’d come so far, a few minutes more would change everything.
In a few minutes my father would be dead and his mother free, the poison we’d laced with his morning coffee doing more than I could in all my seventeen years alone.
I smiled at my father. The only real smile I’d ever given him.

Anthony said...

It’s night, the car’s already on, and I’m ready.

Or at least, I think I’m ready. Taking my seat by him in the corolla, he says, “The priest’s in Albuquerque. Not far. He isn’t asking much for payment.”

“What’d you tell him?”

He looks down. “That I’m just… your step-brother.”

My heart sinks. He pulls me into a kiss; his lips, hot and moist. They taste…


This is wrong—So deeply wrong! But I can’t escape.

For Love’s as sick and twisted as she is beautiful.

He pulls back, smiling. Then we drive into the darkness. Together. In love.

LeslieL said...

I could hear Charlie’s footsteps, their deliberate clip on the hot sidewalk. I stared out and over the front yard, listening to the creak of my rocking chair. One creak for every two steps Charlie took. My stepbrother walked briskly, much too quickly for someone wearing the black uniform of a newly ordained priest in Louisiana in August. I wanted to tell him I had taken it too far. That Ma had whispered, her hand over a swelling eye “Someone should teach your Pa a lesson.” And I did.
I kept rocking, the crimson mud gluing my boots the porch.

french sojourn said...

“You’re far away from your flock, Father.” The librarian shifts his gaze back to the chalky parchment.

“Priest, actually.”

“Religious studies, 2nd floor, section J: 3-16.”

“So much irony; Johns; Chapter 3 verse 16…But I’m not here to research Religion, I’m here to find out what happened to my Step-brother- Saul.”

The librarian again looks up from his work. He frowns and wrinkles his brow. “Was he here two days ago and found in the repository?”

“That’s him.”

The librarian takes the priest’s hot, sweaty hand and says.

“People can lose their lives in Libraries. They ought to be warned.”

Amy Makechnie said...

Hell was not hot; it was my cold, black heart.
I smile while confessing, choosing his sacred confessional booth, not much bigger than our father's coffin.
"My son," the priest begins.
"Not your son," I whisper.
He tries again; always trying so hard, pushing me too far.
"I killed him." I interrupt, smiling slowly. "And…I enjoyed it."
"Tell me, brother," he whispers back.
I relish this moment.
"Step-brother," I say.
He flings the curtain open, stares down at me.
I yawn, lazily walk away.
"Brother," I say over my shoulder. "I feel so much better now."

Shannon Koga said...

It’s totally Clueless, I know. Falling for your stepbrother. Your stupid, leaves his crappy-art-installations-all-over-the-living-room-floor stepbrother. They’re the kind of portraits that make a priest reach for his cross—hot, wild blurs of every scorned ex-girlfriend he’s ever had, covered in nothing but household objects.

This time it’s Tara, up to her navel in toasters; chords lashing around her ankles, smoke framing her face. Stubbing my foot on her, it’s the literal worst. A cough. I look up, and there he is, much too far, atop the staircase. “That’s for the burn-pile.”

I draw my lips together. “It’s not that bad.”

MFGoddard said...

How far is hell. Much too close and too far away.
I lie in my bed laughing and crying. I imagine the flames licking my body, delicious and hot and I think I deserve it. Oh God, I deserve it and I don’t care. Yes, I’ll burn, but is it because of what I want or what I did?
He’s found his way to deal. He’s found a way to punish himself, and me right along with him.
How far is hell? Down the hall, second door from the left, where he sleeps.
My step-brother, the soon to be priest.

Booklover said...

“Hiroshima is much too hot this time of year, and it’s too far to travel for a mere photograph,” the priest said. “Your step-brother would understand.”
“He gave his life for his country when he went there after we dropped the atomic bomb,” I persisted. “At least I can give his widow the last photo someone took of him.” I showed him the mysterious letter I’d received, 50 years later, telling me of the photo’s existence.
I wish I’d followed my priest’s advice. The photo showed Jimmy naked except for his sailor hat, grinning, his arms around two Japanese women.

Unknown said...

OK so here's my 100

I’d like you to meet my step-brother, that’s him, the hot guy with azure eyes and a tanned chest leading down to yum.

I’m crushing on my step-brother; is that just wrong? Is this the part where I confess my sin to a Priest? How would that go, “My brother is cute, far too cute and much too sexy-dirty-hot and I’d like to…” Hum… maybe not.

Plan B. I’ll curse all other women, avoid family dinners while secretly setting up a bathroom surveillance system; and hire a psychiatrist now; I mean seriously, why bother waiting!

J Lenni Dorner said...

It's only a thirty foot aisle. I installed the floor. Every single plank, cut by my hands, and laid into place-- for her. How long does it take to walk thirty feet? It's so hot in here. Why don't stained glass windows open? She's half way, yet still as far away as the moon. It's the train - has to be. That's what's slowing her stride! A thousand tears, not delicate pearls, accentuate her gown. Her coconut eyes are locked on to my frog of a step-brother. Okay priest, get to the "speak now, or forever hold your peace" line.

HollyD. said...

“Oh my God, he’s so hot.”

“Suzie, you’ve gone way too far this time.”

“What’s wrong?”

“That’s my step-brother, Todd.”

“Oh, great, I was lusting after a priest. I’m so going to Hell.”

“I wonder how much SPF you’re going to need there?”

Myra King said...

I've acquired a new ladder. Step-brother brand. A rung up on the others. His ads were quiet but insistent.

My last ladder was a priest, he elevated me to the pearly gates, cast me hot into imagination. Reality another cross to bear.

Sabbath by Black Sabbath, riser by riser, I descended from benediction to contradiction.
I genuflected, confessor to confessed - Holy Sacrament - my curse far too loud for his fears.

Now I'm on my second ascension. Contaminated through fonts of wrong, water thinner than blood.
Step by step.

Statistically, ladders, much more dangerous than sharks.

G.M. said...

I open the fridge to find inside my step brother talking on the phone.
"What's are you doing here?" I ask
"I'm talking with my priest which book to choose for our next book club meeting."
"What books?"
"It's a toss-up between Shakespeare's Much ado about nothing and Desrochers' A little too far."
"Can I have my orange juice?" I ask.
He hands me the juice and close the door. While sipping the juice I wonder why the summers in NYC are so hot that people have to sit inside the fridge.

Unknown said...

He’s become a priest. The hot guy who was my first . . . everything, is about to put the Body of Christ on my tongue.
“Jake?” I whisper.
He steers me away from the handful of midnight mass attendees like I’ve got something they might catch. Maybe I do. Is stupefaction contagious?
“Your step-brother told me you’d gone, but I didn’t realize how far—like past our hometown to the State of Celibacy!”
“What happened was as much my—”
“You’re going to do this here?”
“We’re in a confessional . . .”
“Christ,” he mutters.

Elizabeth Writer said...

It only took one Judas Priest concert for my mother to find love. Now, the captain of the football team is my step-brother. And the guy that constantly invades my thoughts is his hot quarterback side-kick.

Boxes littered the ground. I had far more unpacking to do– just not now.

I rounded the corner and collided head-on.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, taking a step back.

The quarterback smiled at me.

My heart went into overdrive.

His eyes brushed over much of my body and landed on my face. His perfect lips pulled up. “It’s Ally, right?”

Unknown said...

He was forbidden fruit and I was Eve. His hot breath brushed my cheek.

“Alex,” I whispered.

“I love it when you say my name.”

His voice sent chills down my spine.

“We can’t do this. I’m her best friend and you’re her brother.”

“Step-brother,” he said.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“El–”his intense eyes locked on mine– “we’re too far gone for anything to matter.”

I sighed. “I can’t keep lying to her. I’ve been to confessionals every day this week. The priest practically knows my name.”

“You think too much.”

He pulled me close; his lips crushed against mine.

Anonymous Writer said...

The room was so hot I could barely breathe, let alone sing. Every time I missed a note –which was frequent– I saw the side of Ben’s mouth pull up.

The priest and his step-brother were the good cop/bad cop of the orphanage– minus the good cop. They stood in front of us, commanding our voices.

Step-brother Mike motioned for us to stop.

“The sound of the altos is too much,” he said. “Who can switch to soprano?”

I raised my hand.

“You can sing soprano?”

“No, but I can’t sing alto either.”

A smile crept far across Ben’s face.

JF said...

Her promises were a siren’s call to plunder. I thirsted for her, like a priest thirsted for God. She made my body sizzle like a hot iron thrust into water.

The more I thought of her the less I cared that I was her step-brother. It was just a word anyway– a social standing.

She had too much of my soul for me to cleanly break away. My only option was to make her equally invested.

I was so far from any logical reasoning that I let restraint slide through my fingers.

Her lips were soft and sweet.

HollyD. said...

“Damn it, Kyle, keep digging.”

“This would go much faster if you’d get your ass over here and help.” I stood up and wiped the sweat from my face.

“No way, if I’m helping dig then who’ll keep watch for the priest?” David asked.

“He won’t be back here tonight. It’s too far and too damned hot.” I snapped.

“No way.”

“This was your stupid idea to burry your step-brother in this new grave.”

"Fine." David picked up the other shovel and began to dig.

I turned and looked behind me. The blanket began to move.

I screamed.

Unknown said...

In hell they serve wine hot, so you can smell it far across the burning river, the old priest said, as she knelt and removed his shoes.

He’d taken too much sacrament already.

The goblet beside him was empty and soon he would reach for her.

But tonight hwould not last long.

She was full of sin and needed to confess.

“My step-brother is dead, Father,” she said and picked up the empty goblet, wiped it clean with an altar cloth. ”You’ll see him in hell.”

Unknown said...

In hell they serve wine hot, so you can smell it far across the burning river, the old priest said, as she knelt and removed his shoes.

He’d taken too much sacrament already.

The goblet beside him was empty and soon he would reach for her.

But tonight he would not last long.

She was full of sin and needed to confess.

“My step-brother is dead, Father,” she said and picked up the empty goblet, wiped it clean with an altar cloth. ”You’ll see him in hell.”

Jay said...

The door slammed behind Patrick. He walked out into the pouring rain– only because I’d asked him too.

Not even a life preserver or a priest could save me know. I was unreachable, too far. Drowning in my sins.

The crucial part of understanding sin is experiencing the allure of temptation. Patrick was my ever constant temptation. He was my step-brother. And I yearned for him like you yearn for water during a hot drought.

The drought was too much to bear without him.

I sprang from the couch and raced toward him.

“Stop,” I yelled.

He spun around.

CB said...

“Hey, David?” My fingers at his throat, smoothing the collar.


I’m much too hot, spine sticky in the bustle. The crinoline chews my calves. But I’ve stopped caring.

“Andi?” His eyes are thick dark honey. Yeah, I’m that bad.

“I don’t want to marry him.”

“Don’t you think you’re going a bit far? The ceremony’s in fifteen.”

“I’m in love with someone else.”

His lips twist. “Are you telling me this as your step-brother? Or your priest?”

“Actually, neither.” My palms slide up his neck. I rise on my toes and pull his mouth to mine.


The Will To Write said...

Whenever I thought life was too much, I would imagine this moment. But this was beyond anything I could’ve knit together.

It was the four of us in the hot and quiet woods. My step-brother was my only guest.

I fingered the scars along my wrist as I walked towards Sam. He saved me from my, not so far away, bleak and dark future. He healed my scars when I thought I was broken beyond repair.

I finally closed the distance between us.

We repeated after the priest. And all the while Sam’s eyes never let me go.

Alexia Chantel said...

Hot summer sun burned my shoulders. I wiped tiny beads of sweat from my upper lip and plucked at my red sundress so the breeze could cool my skin.

Even though he was far away, I recognized him. My heart constricted painfully at how much I missed him. With the same off cadence strut he and my step-brother coined when we were children he drew near. They could educate him, dress him in black and call him Priest, but he would always be my Colton.

Licking my lips I tugged the neckline of my dress lower, drawing his gaze.

bradmaddox said...
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muhammad asim said...
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Unknown said...
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Anwar Fazil said...
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