Death Sparkles Anthology

By Draconian Publishing

The Death Sparkles Anthology collection of scary and mysterious short stories based on the writing prompt of “The diamond necklace dangled from the dead woman’s hand.”

Death Sparkles contributors are: Kelly Whitley; KT Wagner; Nina Benneton; PJ Friel; Diana Holdsworth; Killion Slade; Watson Davis; Faith Dincolo; Devon Ellington

"Put together a room full of writers (even virtually), toss out a prompt, and you get an a rich, astonishing mix of interpretations.

We found each other online, via Savvy Authors, and the authors featured in these pages were all part of a one-year intensive writing program. “Class” makes it sound like something they could dip into once or twice a week. This commitment was more like a life-changing obsession. Once accepted, they had to commit to writing a minimum of 1000 words per day for the year, finish the first draft of a novel, go through an intensive editing process, start a second novel, and write, edit, and submit a handful of short stories throughout the year. Different short story assignments had different parameters. This one was simply to have the above line, intact, appear somewhere in the story.

We had such fun with our stories, we decided to collect them into an anthology, and donate any proceeds to a literacy charity.

The voices in these stories are as strong and unique as the individuals who created them. They cover a range of genres, but all of them use a diamond necklace and a dead woman as the fulcrum. I love finding new-to-me writers through anthologies, and we all hope you like the range of creative voices presented in these pages.

--Devon Ellington
September 2012

• Language: English
• Publisher: Draconian Publishing
• Release date: Oct 10, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301213450

Book preview

Death Sparkles

Anthology

Copyright 2012 Draconian Publishing

Published by Draconian Publishing at Smashwords

Individual copyrights:

Introduction ©2012 Devon Ellington

Literal Interpretations ©2012 Kelly Whitley

Shiny Things © 2012 KT Wagner

Sass ©2012 Nina Benneton

The Needing ©2012 PJ Friel

A Girl’s Best Friend ©2012 Diana Holdsworth

The Trophy Wife ©2012 Killion Slade

Who’s To Know ©2012 Watson Davis

Persephone’s Progeny ©2012 Faith Dincolo

Sea Diamond ©2012 Devon Ellington

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Table of Contents

Introduction

Literal Interpretations

Shiny Things

Sass

The Needing

A Girl’s Best Friend

The Trophy Wife

Who’s To Know

Persephone’s Progeny

Sea Diamond

Acknowledgements

~~~~~

Introduction

The diamond necklace dangled from the dead woman’s hand.

Put together a room full of writers (even virtually), toss out a prompt, and you get an a rich, astonishing mix of interpretations.

We found each other online, via Savvy Authors, and the authors featured in these pages were all part of a one-year intensive writing program. Class makes it sound like something they could dip into once or twice a week. This commitment was more like a life-changing obsession. Once accepted, they had to commit to writing a minimum of 1000 words per day for the year, finish the first draft of a novel, go through an intensive editing process, start a second novel, and write, edit, and submit a handful of short stories throughout the year. Different short story assignments had different parameters. This one was simply to have the above line, intact, appear somewhere in the story.

We had such fun with our stories, we decided to collect them into an anthology, and donate any proceeds to a literacy charity.

The voices in these stories are as strong and unique as the individuals who created them. They cover a range of genres, but all of them use a diamond necklace and a dead woman as the fulcrum. I love finding new-to-me writers through anthologies, and we all hope you like the range of creative voices presented in these pages.

--Devon Ellington

September 2012

~~~~~

Literal Interpretation

By Kelly Whitley

Liar.

Clay winced. Please believe me.

Lara’s glare said it all. Fat chance. About as much chance as a drenching rain in this Godforsaken drought. The omnipresent smell of scorched wood had soaked into his sinuses. Clay summoned up as much innocence as he could and poured it into a smile.

Cheat. Lara stomped across the kitchen. Dishes rattled in their elderly cupboards as her fury transmitted from the floor to the wall. Behind her, a pall of smoke hung in the hills, refracting the rays of the dying sun into a murderous crimson and fuchsia. I know you sold it to him, Clay.

I didn’t. Clay shoved his hands deep into the front pockets of his jeans and memorized the cracked linoleum. With the fires, it’s safer there anyway.

Lara whirled, hands fisted at her sides. You’re gambling again, aren’t you?

His head snapped up. No. I’m done with that. I let him borrow it for an appraisal.

Right. An unkind laugh spit from his sister’s lips. Borrow it, my ass.

Look. Clay sighed. He’s an expert.

Then what’s that fancy degree of yours for? Decorating the wall?

Why couldn’t she understand experience beat education when it came to appraisal? God, Lara. What will it take to convince you?

Bring it back.

You could call him—

No. You produce it, and I’ll believe you didn’t sell it. You’ve got forty-eight hours to get it back.

Lara—

I mean it, Clay. Get it back, or I’m calling the cops. With one last incinerating glare, she slammed out the back door.

It didn’t sound like she was kidding. Clay thunked his forehead against the wall. Damn it, this was what he’d been born to do. And to have the very thing passed down in his family, hidden right there in the house all these years…. But she didn’t trust him, and here he was with two days to prove what he already knew in his heart. He gazed out the window. Smoke and fire, the perfect accompaniments to murder and mayhem.

The sunset bled.

###

The morning brought a breeze from the east, blowing the smog and smoke out to sea. The air had a clarity they hadn’t seen all summer. Clay breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe they wouldn’t be evacuated. Maybe he wouldn’t be homeless as well as unemployed.

The ancient Volkswagen started on the first try, belching oil-stained exhaust, then settled into a clear carbon monoxide discharge. Thank you, Jesus. Clay put the Beetle in gear and drove downtown.

###

This part of the city represented another age—a time when brick pavers formed the streets and warehouses formed a wall of solidarity, shoulder to shoulder along the river. Here a touch of organic mud and damp flavored the atmosphere.

Clay plugged the parking meter before negotiating the fractured concrete sidewalk. Pawn shops shared space with secondhand stores, then gave way to a section of restoration. Petunias overflowed from second floor window boxes, splashes of rose and amethyst against the rust-colored brick. He squinted up at a set of patterned curtains fluttering in the breeze. Too bad he couldn’t afford to live in a vintage apartment down here. Saturday brought foot traffic to the businesses: eateries and retail and quirky shops that defied classification.

A couple of guys dressed in black passed, headed the other way on the sidewalk.

Midway down the block, faded verdigris paint announced his destination. Bow front windows on either side of an inset front door carried the faint traces of gilt lettering. For those in the know, the word Antiquarium emerged from the vestiges of the gold leaf paint. Clay paused, gaze