Friday Flash Fiction!

I started a group on Facebook called Flash Fiction Fridays.

This is for Authors to play around with their craft and readers and fans to see what words they devise. Prompts will be given out in the middle of the month, and the Flash Fiction stories (less than 1000 words) will be posted on the First Friday of the month on Facebook and then spotlighted here on my blog throughout the month.

These flash fiction prompts challenge you to create short and gripping narratives that are under 1000 words. All writing remains the intellectual property of the contributing author and should not be shared without permission.



The prompt for April is: (authors must use this as the first sentence…the rest is up to them)

“No matter how many times I deactivated it, or changed the time, or the volume level in the settings menu, my phone chirped every day at 21:55.”


by Ellie Masters (copyright April 2017)

No matter how many times I deactivated it, or changed the time, or the volume level in the settings menu, my phone chirped every day at 21:55. There was nothing I could do about it. I was cursed and tied to the end of his leash.

I had worked out a pretty solid routine. My way of beating his system, even if I was cutting it a little too close tonight. Technically, it wasn’t my fault. It had been hard to leave the club when that man-meat buffet swaggered in. I licked my tongue over my upper teeth, then swept up the drool threatening to dribble out the corner of my mouth. Damn, Danny Trent was the hottest senior boy in school.

He and his posse made their grand entrance five minutes before I had to leave. Curly, black hair and dark smoldering eyes entranced me from across the room. I had no choice but to stop, stare, and drool. Yeah, me and all the other girls: you know the ones, short skirts, perky tits, and perfect hair. Of course, I only had two of those three attributes, and not the pair Danny’s hands most preferred. My flat chest made me invisible to the Wolverine’s star quarterback.

His panty-melting gaze glided right past me and settled on Dana Dwight and her devastating double-D’s. She stood five desperate girls to my left, twirling her chestnut locks around her finger. His blind dismissal of me was probably the only thing that saved his life.

I huffed, jumping off the barstool and grabbed my keys. My nails scraped long divots into the wood of the bar. I gave a furtive glance, but no one noticed, so I scuttled my ass right out of the club. The neon bar clock flashed the time, a flickering devil-red glow, ten-minutes behind schedule.

Screwed didn’t even begin to describe the trouble that would come of this.

I missed the light at Broad and Main. Five more minutes lost. My hands cramped gripping the wheel and my teeth ached from grinding my jaw. A throbbing nuisance settled at the base of my skull. Booze didn’t sit well with me, but I was a rebellious shit. I sped a little, trying to make up time, and for a moment I thought that cop was going to pull me over. I definitely didn’t have time to spare chatting up our friends in blue. My nails clicked with impatience, tapping an urgent tune.

But, I made it by the hairs of my chinny-chin-chin. Don’t judge my metaphors. The doors to the garage slid closed with the screech of metal on metal. Getting out of the car was a bit tricky. Cramped from gripping the wheel, my fingers didn’t want to straighten. My long nails caught on the door latch, costing extra seconds I didn’t have. Kicking off my heels—how I hated wearing those things—my feet contacted the cool concrete.

I raced the ten steps to the cage, opened, then lunged inside. I slammed the door and bolted it shut with a full thirty-seconds to spare. My hands barely worked the lock, but I snapped it shut.

That had been close. Too fucking close.

With a loud beep, the alarm on my phone sounded, 21:55.

An annoying text popped in from my dad. ‘I hope you made curfew, my little wolf.’

And if I hadn’t made it back? Bastard was playing with fire. I could have killed someone when I turned.

Pure torture is what this curse was. My social life was taking a beating. Seriously, in this day and age who had a ten o’clock curfew? And prom was coming up. Although, daddy assured me the wolf curse would be lifted before then. I needed my nights back. How else would I be able to seduce Danny Trent? I was already looking into a set of double-D enhancements and my love potion wouldn’t miss if I had those to assist.

Danny didn’t know it yet, but he was going to be mine. Or, he would be if I didn’t accidentally eat him before then.

An itching rippled down my spine. The change was upon me. I howled my frustration into the night and cursed one very overprotective father.

If you enjoyed this, I encourage you to check out my writing on my Amazon Author Page.

I would also like to invite you to join my Flash Fiction Friday group on Facebook, either as an author or as a reader….Flash Fiction Fridays

I will be posting the Flash Fiction pieces of contributing Flash Fiction Friday authors throughout the month of April as well, so be sure to come back and read these short, fun, flash stories.

Posted in writing | 2 Comments

#1linewed #TheCollective #LearningtoBrea

#1linewed #TheCollective #LearningtoBreathe The shiny black buttons wriggled when she slipped her fingers inside, wanting to feel the hardness of his muscles underneath.

Posted in writing | Leave a comment


Don’t forget to VOTE what happens next…..
If you need to catch up….you can start at the very beginning……/a-forked-tale-cursed-to-walk-in…/

Cursed to Walk in the Light

It would be satisfying to kill the wretch, but Irynia had other plans. Besides, he’d already given a powerful gift, if an unwilling one. For the gallant knight who abused the desperation of a female, she would leave him a bittersweet gift in return.

His life. What few moments were left of it.

With a shove, she pushed aside his baggy bones and sagging skin. All vestiges of his youth were gone. In it’s place, she’d left a wrinkled old man.

“What h-have you done?” The knight croaked.

“Are you still here?” She glanced down at the wretch.

Pain spiked between her legs. The dragging of his cock against her dry walls left damage she would need to heal. That would come with time. Standing, she breathed deep, and stretched her arms out wide. The glare of the sun no longer burned her skin. Its steady warmth rained down, invigorating her senses and revitalizing her tattered soul. A kiss of wind fluttered past, and stopped to dance lazily across her skin, skipping down her arms, swirling around her breasts, and soothing that ache between her legs with a featherlight kiss.

Sweet sage, the sharpness of pine, and the richness of the forest loam floated on the wind. She breathed in the sweet bouquet. Songbirds tweeted their songs, flitting branch to branch as they fussed at the antics of the squirrels scampering in the boughs. This world, at once harsh and unyielding, embraced her with light, and devoured her soul.

The knight’s incredulous eyes scanned the ravages of his body, widening with the shock of his transformation. “Y-you did this?” He stared at his palms, turning them over to stare at the papery-white skin tenting the backs of his hands. He struggled to rise, but fell with the weakness of old age and the creaking of weathered joints.

“You sought to take from me,” she preened. “In return, I took from you.” As she would take from all other men.

Ahimouth had given her this power, and cursed her with an insatiable thirst for more. Even now she looked at the man, licking her lips for another taste of his essence. But to take him again would be to grant him death, and he didn’t deserve that. At least, not yet.

“Take? You vile cunt,” he cursed, and pointed. A snarl fixed on his vile face. “You’re a witch. The devil is in you.” He scurried back on trembling limbs, trying to run and flopping back to the ground. He made the sign of the cross over his chest, a useless gesture mortals believed would save them. It had done nothing to save her when she’d been chosen for Hell.

Irynia threw back her head and laughed. “The devil?”

Oh, this man knew nothing of hell. He would be lucky to meet the devil, but Satan didn’t bother himself with the affairs of men. His efforts focused on his eternal war with the heavens. And all of this? Death prowled the Gates of Hell, seeking entrance to the land of the living where he hoped to gorge himself for eternity.

He was the true monster. As was her beloved Ahimouth.

Oh, how she missed his callous caresses, and the scrape of his talons along her flesh. The screams Ahimouth pulled from her throat had been the sweetest ecstasy and most excruciating pain. Death could not pass through the Gates of Hell, but he’d held the power to force her through. He’d consigned her to walk among the world of the living, and she was stuck in this foul place until she found her path home.

“The Devil is not in me,” she said. He never had been and never would. She may have been marked to be his bride, but she would never occupy his bed. Because, she’d done the unthinkable. In falling for tormentor, she’d committed an unforgivable sin, and one which propelled her out of the Gates of Hell.

She tilted her face to the sun, and cried out with despair. Her heart ached for Ahimouth’s touch. She missed the searing heat of his breath. And his brutal punishments, once feared, she desperately craved.

The old man scurried into the forest, seeking refuge from her wild gaze, perhaps terrified she would finish what she’d started. Not that she cared to pursue. He would meet his fate in the woods, and she would leave him to it.

Bending down, she gathered his linen shirt and leather pants.

Evidently, wandering naked wasn’t allowed in this world. Slowly she dressed. His clothes hung loosely, and she made a hole in his belt to keep the pants from slipping off the slender curve of her hips. With a whistle, she called for his horse, leaping astride it and finding the forest path.

Heading down and out of the mountains, the last rays of the evening sun found her at the valley floor. There on the path, an old cripple sprawled across the road.
She should pass him by and let him die. Fate closed quickly upon the old man. Or she could visit mercy upon him, and put him out of his misery now.

She paused to consider her choice.

Posted in writing | Leave a comment

Sensual Short by Ellie Masters

A sensual short is what I like to call a micro story. It’s a tiny moment captured in the magic of words.

“Come,” he says, “sit. ”

But, I can’t . The madness of my nerves consumes me. I’ve already ripped my gown off twice. Each time I try to dress, the gown suffocates me with the weight of my fears. I have to peel myself out of it before I hyperventilate or worse.

“Come.” Louder this time. More insistent.

“Allen…”. The squeak of my voice only draws attention to my weakness. I feel sick. My stomach is light, unsettled. Oh no, I don’t want to throw up.

He grabs me from behind, the power of his frame cages me in. Lifting, he pulls me off my feet and drags me back.

“Stop!” The growl of his voice is low, guttural, and devastating.

He lowers us down, him sitting on the leather ottoman while he places me on my ass between his legs, facing away. I squirm and rise, but his hand on my shoulder keeps me in place.

“Sit,” he says.

“I don’t have time for this.” I have a routine. Rituals which make sense. I have less than an hour before I must be on stage.

“Shh,” he soothes, his voice soft and tender. “Relax. Close your eyes.”

But I don’t want to close them. I need to move and burn off this jittery feeling.

He reaches over my head and settles the mask over my face. “Close your eyes and breathe.”

His touch comforts me. His thighs trap me, but I’m not scared. Instead, the edge of my fear wears off.

“He’s waiting for you,” Allen says. “Downstairs.”

And indeed, the man who will become my master waits for me, without the jitters or the fear flowing in my veins. Those belong only to me. In fact, all of The Edge has gathered for our ceremony. The masters, their slaves, even the caretakers have been asked to attend. They’re all here, downstairs, waiting. Only Allen and I are upstairs.

My caretaker’s calming presence envelopes me and tamps down my insecurities. I’ve waited for this day for a year. I don’t want to screw it up. Allen will see me through. All I have to do is trust.

I reach back, my hands gripping his arms. “Is everyone else a mess like me?”

He kisses the crown of my head. “Everyone is different on the day of their collaring. How do you feel?”

Better. Stronger. More centered. I take a deep breath. “I’m ready.” I lean back and gaze at Allen. “Thank you.”

He hooks his hands under my arms and lifts me to my feet. “Good, The Edge is waiting, and I’m certain Master Prescott is getting anxious. It’s time.”

The dress slips over my head for the third time. It’s different now. My breaths are easy, my fears suppressed. Allen zips me in. The rasping of tiny metal teeth closing together is the only sound except for our fluid breaths.

He spins me around and examines his handiwork. Another submissive prepared. Another woman ready to accept her coveted role.

The pride in his eyes spills to his gentle smile. This man will make a wonderful master to a very lucky woman some day. I kiss him lightly on the cheek.

“Let’s do this.”

I am ready to become my master’s slave.
Ellie Masters 2017

For those who have read CHANGING ROLES, you might recognize the reference to the EDGE, an exclusive BDSM Master/Slave retreat featured in Changing Roles.

Haven’t read Changing Roles? No problem…click HERE and delve inside.

Posted in bdsm, dark romance, erotic short, love, romance, writing | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

#1linewed #TheCollective #LearningtoBrea

#1linewed #TheCollective #LearningtoBreathe Some people were more comfortable with their sexuality, she didn’t happen to be one of them.

Posted in writing | Leave a comment

#1linewed #PeaceSeries #FindingPeace Aft

#1linewed #PeaceSeries #FindingPeace After that first keening wail, they heard nothing else from that distant wolf pack.

Posted in writing | Leave a comment

One Year ago…I became a Published Author

A year ago today, my debut novel was published by Loose-ID.

Such a simple statement…One year ago, I became a published author. Wow! And in the past year, I’ve subsequently gone on to publish several more books, culminating with the recent release of Twist of Fate this past February.

I’m continually awed by the outpouring of support in the writing community. And while I may have started my journey with traditional publishing, I’ve been warmly embraced by the Indie community. There is no way I will get all my thanks in order, and I will miss some people. As I write this, my mind is churning with all the flowery thank yous I owe to hundreds of people.

I’d like to start with a bottomless thank you to an amazing woman, who has become the sister I never knew. Sophie Lynn is my BFF and we have travelled through this past year on a cresting of highs and lows, coming out of this with a depth of friendship I treasure from a bottomless heart. I’m continually amazed by the support she’s shown me and my gratitude is simply not enough to express how I truly feel. Thank you, Sophie, mushy, mushy, blah, blah, and all that goes with that.

To my dear friend, Nathalie Pinette, we’ve chased around in circles, having the best damn time, and learning to embrace the best in one another. Your support is something I treasure, and I certainly can never repay that debt. We continue to grow and learn from one another, and that is a true gift. Thank you, Nathalie.

Shea Moran and Jennifer Guffey…you were my first supporters, my friends who read my words and urged me to keep on writing. But you’ve done much more than that. My first Beta readers, you became a foundation of my writing process. I love you more than I can say, because I’m a dork like that, but you give it to me straight, constructive in your criticism, and determined to help me be the best writer I can possibly become.

A special shoutout to Shea. I’m your loveable dork, and that is probably one of the highest honors anyone has bestowed upon me. Shea has an amazing talent, y’all. She creates words with the pages of books, and bestowed upon me this amazing gift. These unique creations are available for sale (customizable to your needs), just let me know and I’ll hook you up with Shea’s BookFolding Shop.


To Anita Renea, you have taken on a huge role in helping me with the ELLZ BELLZ. Your love and support are gifts I often feel I don’t deserve, but accept with a gracious and willing heart. Thank you for dealing with my foolishness and for helping me make my dreams come true.

To the ELLZ BELLZ, an amazing group of women. Your support of me and my writing is something I still have difficulty wrapping my head around. You’re my cheerleaders, my confidants, you’re subjected to the atrocious and mindless drivel of my random thoughts, like my candy corn obsession, and the ever important orgling of llamas, yet you still love me. I’ve taken you on my vacations and shared drinks with you at sea. You’ve been a constant positive driving force pushing me to write just one more story, one more thing.  Thank you, BELLZ!

To the authors I’ve run across, we share a kinship with one another as the creators of worlds and lives. We share similar passions and with that comes a tremendous outpouring of support. I’d like to give a special shout out to Pam Godwin, she’s the person who made today possible, who told me to stop fucking around and publish already. Pam always gives it to me straight and with her encouragement I continue to grow and thrive as an author. Thank you, Pam.

Kinships and friendships develop organically. I stumbled upon Riley Edwards late last summer and we kind of clicked. We’ve traded successes, frustrations, dreams, and have brainstormed late into the dark of night. We’re now involved in collaboration and I can’t wait to reveal the wonderful creation we’ve made. The Collective is coming the first of April. It’s a series of ten standalone stories, all interconnected with an awesome twist. And…you’ll want to keep your eye on us as Riley and I bring to you FOUR KINGS, a five book masterpiece which will blow your minds.

BANNER Season 1 Part 1 Episodes 1 thru 5

To the Collective guest authors: Erin Trejo, Elias Raven, Chris Genovese, and Carver Pike…y’all are friggin’ amazing individuals and I’m having a blast collaborating with you. Erin and I are new friends, and she makes my days better with each laugh, each word of encouragement and is a total hoot. I urge you to check out the magic which is her writing. Chris/Carver, what a creative brilliance lies within this mind. Erotica of many flavors and horror too, you’ll want to check out his books and the journey they take you on. Elias Raven, you are the Whisperer of so many dreams and fantasies. Your mind moves a mile a minute and I’m delighted to glimpse just a piece of the magic percolating within that impressive brain. Behind the voice which melts panties, lies a wonderful man, a person I call a very close friend. Kyocera, Raven, you spoil me rotten, and I absolutely adore you for that.

I have another amazing collaborative on the way…Welcome to the small town of Peace Montana, where things are not always as they seem. The Peace Novella series is an unique crossover series where 20+ authors bring the people of Peace to life! All novellas are standalone stories, and you’ll see the entire town of Peace come alive throughout this amazing series.

Peace Banner

Bloggers are the lifeblood of the industry, and I’ve had more than my fair share of supportive blogging friends who have gone out of their way to promote my writing to the world. You are amazing and wonderful people. Your passion for the written world is a powerhouse and incredible force. You’ve helped me beyond measure, and my author friends as well. This is my chance to say thank you for all the support you’ve shown me, but I’d like to take a moment and thank you as well for supporting my fellow author friends. We really can’t do this without you. Thank you!

I’ve really saved the best for last. I write the words, but my readers and fans are the ones who have embraced my dream and made them a reality. You are the reason I’m here, and the reason I continue to write. I love our conversations and cherish those tiny moments (which are huge for me) when a piece of my writing has touched you in some small way. Thank you for taking a chance on me. Thank you for supporting me. Thank you for reading my words. And for those who leave reviews, wow!, you totally rock.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Interested in reading my works? Click the pic…and one-click away.

1thecollectiveEMtwist-of-fate-coveramazon-kindle-coverHI 2nd COVER ebooka2n-coverChanging Roles Cover

I also enjoy writing for fun and established a Flash Fiction Fridays Group on Facebook. Writing prompts are given out in the middle of the month, and Flash Fiction pieces are posted on the First Friday of the month. April’s prompt is posted. I encourage writers and readers to join in on the fun! Click on the picture below to join the group!!


And with that, I come to a close. It’s really more of a beginning….as I continue to bring MY-MIND-TO-THE-PAGE and into the hearts of readers every day.

EM business Card Back


Posted in writing | Leave a comment