Posts Tagged ‘rejection’


SfaH Contest: Winners!!!

January 13, 2009

Thanks to the wonderful random integer generator at I have two winners for the SfaH contest. One winner gets a $10.00 gift certificate from Wild Child Publishing, and the other gets something far less lucrative: a custom character in the long version of “Rejection.” Trinity Blaico is the gift certificate winner, and Faith Bicknell-Brown is the character winner.

Also, a recount (or maybe a last minute vote I hadn’t seen) put Rejection over by one vote, so I started working on it last night. I didn’t get far, and this will be a difficult one because the story, the emotions triggered, and the characters make me sad.


Scenes from a Hat: Rejection

November 13, 2008

Scenes from a Hat: Rejection

by Anthony Owens
Editor: M. E. Ellis

Her breath eased into the night, and the covers fell over her in toasty supplication. She danced through dreams of starry nights and warm summer breezes, but the chill of the autumn moon winds raced across her exposed skin. He crawled into the bed beside her, and she dreaded his touch. Don’t. Just don’t. Her thoughts wandered to a place overcast with doubt, suspicion, and mistrust. Please, don’t touch me. I don’t want you. You know I don’t. Just leave me alone. She breathed heavy with anger and anxiety. He pulled up the covers and draped them over his warm body, but the cold air attacked her, and her feet fell prey to the frigid air.

“Hey, baby. I love you.”

He wrapped his leg around her, snuggled close, draped his arm over her belly, and nuzzled his mouth against her neck with a soft and pleasant kiss. She didn’t answer him. His hand slipped beneath her nightshirt and just under her supple breasts, and she knew beyond doubt that within seconds his wretched hands would be on her nipples.

Just stay off me. Go away.

He moved in closer. She abhorred his warmth and thickness pressed against her thigh. She just wanted him to roll over and go to sleep. She wanted him to leave her alone. His breath emptied any thoughts of love or lust from her body, and his fingers drained sensuality from her skin. She once loved him, lusted after him, but no more.

“Jas, come on baby, roll over.”

She pretended to be asleep, but she knew that he could tell she was awake. Her skin still responded to his touch, despite her efforts to force it into calm. The subterfuge broke, and hiding no longer seemed possible. Her eyes opened slowly, and she turned to face him.

“No, Alan. I don’t want you. Leave me alone.”