Three Ways to Write Your Truth

December 27, 2018December 27, 2018 F.A. HuffmanLeave a comment

My last post on writing your truth was a bit jumbled because I went into without a plan in mind. I knew I wanted to write about it, and I just started writing. Hopefully, you were still able to get something from it. I’m back again to talk about writing your truth. Here we are going to talk about three ways to make sure that you write your truth and not someone else’s.

In my opinion, the simplest definition of writing your truth is writing what you really want to write. Writing your truth isn’t something outlandish or some mysterious being that only a few can tap into. Writing your truth is something everybody has the ability to do, all it takes is some time and effort.

There is one hard part about writing your truth. You have to know you.

Find Out Your Beliefs

In order to write your truth, you have to know yourself. That’s the first thing in writing your truth. Know yourself. Take some time to sit down and write out the things you believe. Those are your truths. The things that you believe to be important in life. Not what other people tell you, but what you believe. These beliefs have been forming throughout your entire life. And whether you know it or not, you have been living your life based on these beliefs.

That’s the first thing you are going to do in order to write your truth. Take a moment, five to ten minutes, and write down a list of your beliefs. I don’t want superficial beliefs either. Nothing simple like I believe in God or I believe the sun is hot. I want specific beliefs. Things like people need to fight injustice, marriage should be between two people that love each other, people should be allowed to be whatever they want to be. I want you to go deep. Take some time to go do that now.

……….

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I’m serious, write your list now.

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…

Welcome back. Now that you have your list of beliefs you now know the things that you should write about. While you can write about things that go against these beliefs, such as a person who isn’t necessarily religious could write a book that is religious in nature. But doing so is going to be very difficult.

It will take quite a bit of planning and forethought. You will find it very hard to embrace these truths because they aren’t yours. The only way to successfully write something that goes against your truths is to change your beliefs about them. But that’s a different subject.

Don’t Be Silent

The second thing is to stop silencing yourself. I’m a woman, so I can only speak from a woman’s perspective. Women tend to silence their selves more often. I could speak on why I think that is, but that’s not my point here. Many people will stop themselves from writing their truth because they think that it’s something that others don’t want to hear, or that they will be ridiculed for it.

They feel shameful for their truths, so they stop themselves from writing about it. Now, I want to explain that I am not telling you to be hurtful or mean to others. That’s wrong no matter what. (I’m pretty sure I put that in my last blog about writing your truth and is a boilerplate agreement from now on when talking about writing your truth. DON’T BE MEAN AND HURTFUL)

What I am telling you is to be nice in how you write your truth. No matter what it is, you can write your truth without hurting other people.

I know that this may seem like I am verging on a touchy subject, and I probably am, but it’s important that we talk about this. Writing your truth is the only way you are going to feel happy and comfortable with your writing, and, yes, it will likely upset somebody. But as long as you didn’t blatantly attack somebody or you weren’t outright mean, then you have nothing to be afraid of. I’m not here to talk about ethics, just the matter of not silencing yourself.

To recap, the second point is that you should not let society or others silence you just because you are afraid that they are going to judge you for it.

Be Vulnerable

The last tip is to be vulnerable. This will go hand in hand with the second tip because you are putting yourself out there to be judged, which is a vulnerable position. Vulnerability is the key to writing your truth. Which we will go in-depth on later on. All I am going to say right now is that if you don’t feel a little bit vulnerable when you are writing and putting yourself out there, then you are probably hiding at least part of your truth.

Remember, understand your beliefs, don’t silence yourself, and be vulnerable. Once you have accomplished those three things, you will be well on your way to writing your truth.

“Three things cannot be long hidden, the sun, the moon, and the truth.” – Buddha

FYI:

Grab your copy of Loved by Death on Amazon. Make sure you keep an eye on Loved by Death: Book One of The Wolfsbane Chronicles. You never know what kind of sale you might find.

7 Effortless Tips For Writing Every Day

December 14, 2018December 18, 2018 F.A. HuffmanLeave a comment

Making time to write every day can be a daunting task. I know I have problems with making sure that I write on my own work every day. I’m still learning how to make sure that I make the time for it. For those who work a different day job, will often struggle more to make time for their own writing.

There are some who feel guilty when they make time to write. Mainly because they see it as something fun to do and not something they have to do. Before you sit down and work out a writing schedule, make sure you figure out your priorities.

Alright, let’s jump right in…

Give Yourself More Time

Wake a little bit earlier in the morning so that you have more time during the day to write. This may seem too simple to work, but it works. Sleep is important, so make sure that you are still getting enough sleep. You need brain power to write, and sleep gives you brain power.

Pick a Time to Write

You want a writing schedule, so decide what time of day you are going to write. Make sure it is a time that you have free pretty much every day because consistency will make it more likely that you will stick with it. A lot of writers do their best writing first thing in the morning because the creative juices are flowing. Some say you are more creative when you’re a little tired, so maybe you write before bed. Just pick a time and stick to it.

Pick a Time to Read

A writer who doesn’t read will fall on their face. You have to read in order to be a good writer. Make sure you set some time aside every day to read. You can read anything, just read.

Use Life for Inspiration

If you have a day job other than your writing, use the people you work with as inspiration for your writing. Even if you don’t have a different day job, watch the people you interact with on a daily basis, or those you meet out in public. If you watch closely, you will start to see that everybody has their own characteristics, character flaws, and attitudes. Who knows, they may inspire your next story.

Gather Your Work

I’ve always been super organized with where I keep my writing, I’m obsessed with USBs. For some people, they have notes and writing plastered across notebooks and in different computer files. Group everything together into one place so that you can what you need faster. This will help you to feel more motivated to write because you won’t have to hunt for what you are looking for.

Make a Happy Place

Set aside space in your home where you write. It doesn’t have to be a huge space. In fact, it could be your kitchen table. But know, that is your space. When you are there, it’s time to write. Set up the space to make you happy and motivated to write, and reduce the distractions as much as you can.

Reward Yourself

When you have accomplished some writing for the day, no matter how much, reward yourself. This can be anything that you like doing. Go for a walk, give yourself an extra five minutes of reading time, whatever will make you want to write again the next day.

That’s it. Use these seven tips to create your own writing schedule to make sure that you don’t feel like you have to force your writing time. Nothing is worse than feeling like you don’t have the time to do something that you love. Make the decision now to make time to write tomorrow.

“You will never find time for anything. If you want time you must make it.” – Charles Buxton

FYI:

Grab your copy of Loved by Death on Amazon. Make sure you keep an eye on Loved by Death: Book One of The Wolfsbane Chronicles. You never know what kind of sale you might find.

Short Story – Her Little Secret

November 27, 2018November 27, 2018 F.A. HuffmanLeave a comment

The church was filled with family and friends. All of their solemn faces watched me as I walked up the aisle. The summer breeze coming in from the windows whipped my dress around my ankles. My hand reached out and touched the cold wooden coffin.

I shouldn’t have left. No matter how important it had been for me to go to school. I knew my parents were going to have problems, but I hadn’t imagined it would be this bad. I’d only been gone for three months when I got the call from my brother, Charles, Jr.

“Richard is dead,” Junior said.

I didn’t believe him, but I still rushed home. I wasn’t met with a kiss. I didn’t get asked how my trip was. Nobody said I love you. Richard, my husband, was dead. A week before I had left for classes a new ‘family’ had moved in. Vinnie Rio and his wife Maria had introduced themselves to my parents the day I left. They didn’t do or say anything wrong at that time, but I could tell.

My parents, Charles, Sr. and Rebecca, own a deli shop in a nice Italian American neighborhood. That was until the Rios moved in. It was the way they acted. The words they used. The way they walked and dressed. I knew they were part of the mob. What I didn’t know was that Vinnie was the head and that he was willing to do whatever it took to get my parents deli.

He wasn’t interested in making money selling meats. Instead, he wanted the back of the store. The large walk-in freezer to be exact. It was the perfect place for ‘business.’ He hadn’t said anything that day he introduced himself. He waited. He had dropped hints for a few weeks, according to my brother. My dad stayed strong and wouldn’t budge. Richard got involved when Vinnie hit my dad. He started talking for him, and that’s how he ended up dead. But, lucky for me, Vinnie never saw me that day when he came to town.

Junior put his arm around my shoulder leading me back out of the church. A young boy came running up with a phone in his hand. Junior took the phone.

“Hello,” Junior said.

I couldn’t hear what was being said on the other end, but I knew wasn’t good. Junior turned white as a sheet. His hand gripped hard into my shoulder.

“Can I speak to her?”

“What is it?” I whispered.

He waved me off and continued to listen intently. I eased him over to the paisley covered chair before he fell down.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I knelt in front of him, trying to read his face. He looked right at but didn’t see me. I could hear the guests filing out of the church, all of them looking at us with concern. As the last person left, Junior jumped up.

“Put her back on! No! I want to talk to my mother. I…”

“What’s wrong with mom?” I screamed.

Again, he waved me away. He held the phone tight to his ear. The air in the room tense. I couldn’t breathe. Something was wrong with mom and he wasn’t telling me anything. I didn’t like this, but taking the phone from him wasn’t an option. I had to wait, no matter how long it took.

“Okay,” he whispered, before hanging up the phone.

“What’s wrong?” I said, cornering him.

“They have mom and dad.”

“Who?”

“Vinnie.”

“Vinnie? Vinnie Rio?”

“Yes. Dad still wouldn’t give up the shop after they killed Richard. Now they’ve taken them, hostage, until I turn over the shop.”

I wrapped my arm around his shoulder and lead him outside. The sun dipped under the horizon casting everything in shadows. The moon peeked through the red clouds as we walked to my car. We drove to the shop in silence.

Everybody from the funeral would be piling into my house soon enough and I wasn’t ready to deal with them. I had something else on my mind.

Junior and I walked into the deli shop. He grabbed a plate and filled it with different sliced meats and cheeses. We quietly nibbled at the food. Neither of us wanted to talk about the elephant in the room. With a sigh, I broke the silence.

“Let them have the store.”

“What?”

“Let them have the store.”

“I can’t do that. Dad would kill me.”

“If you don’t, they will kill dad. Trust me. Call Vinnie and set up a meeting tomorrow.”

“Why? I don’t know how you could let those people use our shop for their work.”

“I don’t want them in here any more than you do, but it’s the only way this is going to end.”

“I’m not going to do it.”

“Charlie, if you don’t you will never see mom or dad again. Besides, I’ll call him myself if I have to.”

“You wouldn’t.”

I glared at my brother. I was four years older than him, and I had seen and done things that he would have never imagined. I had a secret that none of my family, not even my late husband, knew. He might have felt better if he had known, but I couldn’t risk it.

***

The next morning I hid in the back of the store. The office sat behind the meat counter and had a perfect view of the entire store. I stretched up on my tip toes to look out the window. Junior wasn’t happy. He had repeatedly begged me to reconsider after a while I stopped listening to him.

The front bell jingling and in walked a tall lanky man in a three-piece suit. A little overdressed for a Monday morning. Francis Capo, or as his friends called him, Little Frankie, sauntered up to the counter where Junior stood. He twirled a toothpick between lips before taking it out and tapping the tip on the counter.

“The boss wants to know if you have reconsidered,” Little Frankie said in a thick Italian accent.

Junior took a deep breath and stepped back from the counter. He hesitated too long. Little Frankie slapped the counter.

“Can you hear me? The boss wants an answer.”

“I…” Junior stumbled.

I slipped out of the office. None of the family knew I existed and I was going to use that to my advantage. I had slipped on my most form-fitting little black dress. My breasts poured out the top and my butt looked perky with the help of my sky-high heels. I glided up next to my brother, drawing Little Frankie’s attention.

“Is there a problem?” I asked.

“Who are you?” Little Frankie asked.

“Veronica.”

“You related to him?”

“I’m his older sister.”

“Older sister, huh? I didn’t know they had any other kids. So, you the one in charge here.”

“Looks that way.”

“Vinnie wants an answer. He wants your freezer.”

Junior slipped further away from the two of us. He fiddled around with some of the meats, trying his best to disappear in the shadows of the store. I hated seeing him this scared.

“If the freezer is all he wants, he can have it.”

“I see there is one smart person in your family. It’s a good thing you agreed. I would have hated to mess up a pretty face like yours.”

“You wouldn’t have really hurt me, would you?” I asked, sliding closer to him.

Little Frankie cleared his throat. He rubbed his finger across his pencil mustache with a smile.

“I could think of a million better things to do to you than hurt you.”

“I bet you could.”

Junior coughed. I glanced over to see him glaring at me. I rolled my eyes back to Little Frankie who hadn’t stopped gazing at me since I walked out of the office.

“How about I come back by tonight and take you out.”

“Sounds great.”

With a grin, Little Frankie turned and sauntered out. I could feel Junior’s eyes burning holes through me. Turning my back to him, I strolled into the office saying,

“You have customers.”

***

Late Monday evening Little Frankie pulled up outside a large white mansion. This had to be the Capo house. I had been under the impression that we were going to a restaurant. I didn’t think I’d have to impress the entire family this early on.

Little Frankie walked around the car and opened my door. I eased out, making sure my tight dress didn’t rise too far. I hadn’t changed my dress from earlier, but I had added a leather jacket and pulled my long brown hair back in a ponytail. Frankie took my hand and led me up the stone stairs to the glass front door. A tall bleach blonde woman met us at the door.

She had curves in all the right places, but every inch appeared to be fake. The only thing on her that was real was the diamonds. She smiled the best she could, but her face wouldn’t allow anything to move. Escorting use in, she motioned towards two large red velvet chairs on either side of a long mahogany table. The woman sat at the head of the table, the other end was occupied by who I guessed was Vinnie. The meant the woman had to be his wife. The other two seats were filled by another man and woman. I wasn’t interested in either of them.

“Welcome, Veronica,” Vinnie said, motioning to a maid to fill my glass with wine, “You’ve met my wife, Maria. I hope Frankie has been a gentleman.”

“He has,” I replied, taking a sip of my wine.

“Good. I was extremely glad to hear that you had allowed us access to your store. Your father was quite a hard nut to crack. I’m glad you are smarter. What I was really interested in, though, is why I hadn’t ever met you before.”

“I’ve not been in town for the past few months.”

“I see. Why?”

“I was taking some classes.”

“For what?”

“You do ask a lot of questions.”

“I like to know who I’m dealing with. Your brother, Junior, is it? He’s an easy read. But you, you’re different. You don’t follow your father’s rules.”

“I’ve always done my own thing. I didn’t understand why he so against giving you access to the freezer.”

“Smart girl. Enough talk, let’s eat.”

We ate. The entire night, whatever Vinnie said, we did. Nobody questioned it. The dinner was good, though. Once we finished, with a snap of his fingers, the maids cleared the table and brought us coffee. After some idle chat about nothing in particular, Vinnie turned to me.

“Maria is going to show you around the house. I like you, and I have a feeling you will be around a lot.”

Maria took my hand and led me out of the dining room. Their house was vast and full of expensive furniture, appliances, and decorations. Rooms upon rooms lined the halls of the mansion. Most of which had never been used. Maria stopped short at the top of the stairs. I screeched to a halt barely avoiding her.

“You cannot tell anybody about what I’m getting ready to show you.”

I nodded. We eased down the staircase. Our steps echoed off the white walls. We stepped into a hall that paled in comparison to the rest of the house. I figured the area wasn’t frequented by guests. Nothing was decorated and the air smelled stale. My parents had to be around here somewhere. Maria tapped my shoulder, causing me to jump.

“Now, Vinnie probably wouldn’t want me to show you this, but I thought you might need to know. This is where we keep our little secrets. Promise me you won’t say anything.”

“I promise.”

“Good. Now, let’s get back upstairs before the boys get too lonely.”

***

I sat at the small table in the office of the deli shop and sipped my now cold cup of coffee. Junior had frozen me out. The most I could get him to say was a grunt. Before I left Vinnie’s home the night before they told me they would need the freezer today. I was dressed to the nines again to keep my charade up.

The front door slammed open and the bell clanged. The sound of stomping and shuffling feet sounded through the store.

“What are you doing?” Junior yelled.

A hard thump vibrated the floor under my feet. I ran out to find Junior on the floor of the store. Little Frankie disappeared into the freezer. I crouched next to Junior to make sure he was okay. He yanked his arm away from my touch.

“I told you they were coming,” I whispered.

Junior glared at me. He wasn’t hurt, but his ego was bruised. He pulled himself up and moved to the far side of the shop. A scream rang out of the freezer. I glanced around the door to see Little Frankie and Vinnie roughing up a small wiry man.

“What did I tell you last time?” Vinnie barked into the man’s face.

“I don’t think he understood you,” Little Frankie quipped.

Vinnie nodded at his henchman. Little Frankie raised a skinny arm and drove his fist into the small man’s face. Blood splattered out of his mouth. In a split second, Little Frankie’s fist drove back into his face. Blood burst out of his nose. The tiny man groaned.

“What was that?” Vinnie said, leaning down to the man, but making sure he didn’t get blood on his shirt.

“Trunk. Money … trunk.”

“I think he’s saying the money is in the trunk,” Little Frankie interpreted.

Vinnie turned on his heel and bounded out of the store. Little Frankie turned his attention back to the small man. He drove fist after fist into him until he slumped over in the chair, barely breathing. I felt Junior’s breath on my shoulder.

“Aren’t you going to stop him?” Junior barked, loud enough for Frankie to hear.

I pushed Junior into the office and shut the door.

“Look, I don’t like this any more than you do, but if you don’t keep your mouth shut, you are going to be in worse shape than that man in there,” I whispered.

“You’ve lost your mind.”

Junior stomped out of the office and right into Little Frankie. Frankie slammed Junior against the wall. Frankie’s arm drew back preparing to hit Junior. With a touch of my hand, Frankie dropped his.

“Please, Frankie. He’s my brother. I can handle him. He’s just upset about our parents.”

Little Frankie looked at me; a small smile drew across his face. He released Junior’s shirt. I glanced at Junior. He took off to the front of the store. I rubbed my hand down Frankie’s arm.

“He’s lucky you were here.”

“I know. I’m sorry he doesn’t understand your line of work. I’ll do my best to keep him in line.”

“If you can’t, I’ll have to.”

“I know. Just, give him a little bit. He’ll come around. I promise.”

“You’re going out with me tonight.”

“Okay.”

***

That night Little Frankie took me to a real restaurant. The food was beyond delicious, and it should be for the price they charged. Everybody took extra special care of us. We had no reservation, and the restaurant was full, but we only waited five minutes before the best table in the place was open. Nobody ever brought us a check. After dessert, we left.

Little Frankie wrapped an arm around my waist as we walked down the street. The night air was cool, so I didn’t protest his touch even though I wanted to. A figure moved to the right of me. I didn’t think anything about it. A moment later, Little Frankie was on the ground. A large man threw punch after punch at Little Frankie not giving him a chance to get in a hit.

I grabbed the man by the collar and pulled. He didn’t budge. I swung a fist into his side. Still, he didn’t budge. I stepped back and drove my foot into his gut. He grunted and tumbled off of Little Frankie. A glass stomach, good to know.

Little Frankie struggled to stand. His left eye swelled shut, and blood poured out of his nose. I didn’t like the man, but I could let him die tonight. Once he had his footing, he turned back to the hulk of a man that was still on the ground grasping his stomach. He stomped the man’s stomach causing him to writhe in pain. Little Frankie looked at me, nodding his head, inviting me to help him.

We took turns kicking and stomping him into the ground. Once he passed out, Little Frankie collapsed against the wall. It was my turn to wrap an arm around him. I led him back to the car and sped off towards Vinnie’s.

***

They had their own in-house doctor. This sort of thing must happen a lot. As soon as we stepped inside, we were met by a short man with a stethoscope. He took Little Frankie to another room, leaving me alone at the door. Vinnie stepped beside, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. Some large man came out of nowhere and attacked him.”

“Sounds like Bubba. That’s not his real name, but he won’t share his real name. He used to work with us, but when I met Little Frankie, I sent Bubba on his way. He’s tried to get the drop on him before but never succeeded. How did you get him off?”

“He’s got a glass stomach.”

“Figures. Big guys always have an easy to reach weak spot. Come with me. I have something to show you.”

Vinnie led me back to the staircase that Maria had taken me down the other day. This time we walked the long hallway. I glanced in some of the open doors. They were small furnished bedrooms, big enough for two people. One door along that hallway was closed. It had to be where my parents were.

The hallway emptied out into a large office space. On the far wall set a large vault, one that should be in a bank. The door was opened a crack. It looked like it was filled with gold and cash.

“This is where it all happens,” Vinnie said in a grand fashion, “Not just anybody gets to see this room. Besides myself, Maria, and Little Frankie, you’re the only other person who has been shown this room without a gun pressed to their head.”

“Why are you showing me the room?”

“Your one special lady. Little Frankie likes you and you proved yourself useful today. I want you to help me. I’ve got a new store, much like your father; he’s a bit reluctant to let me help him with business. I think you can help.”

After explaining the situation, Vinnie left me alone in the office. I had everything that I needed to bring an end to the Rio family. In just a couple of days, I had done what the other officers on the force hadn’t been able to do for years. Every time the police got close, the Rio family would move. This time I had insisted that I take the lead. The guys didn’t like that a woman would be taking over their case, and I suspected that they would be extremely upset that I had finished what they couldn’t.

***

Back home, I slipped to my room unnoticed by Junior. He had been staying with Richard and me long before all of this started. He was watching TV when I came in. I slipped out of my cumbersome dress and slid on my PJs. Grabbing the phone, I called my boss.

“Virgil speaking.”

“Virgil, it’s me, Veronica. I’ve got them.”

“You got them?”

“Vinnie took me to his office today. I have all the evidence we need to put him away. We can take them tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m positive. We wait any longer and they could end up getting suspicious, and we know what happens when they get suspicious.”

“All right. I’ll get the guys together. You go in and signal us when you’re ready.”

“Sounds like a plan. See you tomorrow.”

“See you then.”

“Bye.”

“Oh, Veronica.”

“Yes.”

“Good work.”

I hung up the phone with a smile. Unbeknownst to me, Junior has slipped upstairs and had overheard my phone call. He slammed my door open and stormed in.

“Cops! Cops were not supposed to be involved.”

“I’m a cop, Junior. Cops have been involved since the beginning.”

“They’re going to kill them.”

“No, they’re not. At least not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you honestly think they were ever going to release them? They were just biding their time until they got everything they wanted from us.”

“Yes, I do.”

“This is why I didn’t tell you, or anybody for that matter, what I was doing when I went away.”

“I thought you were a secretary.”

“That’s what everybody thought. That’s how going undercover works. It’s my little secret. I need you to calm down. Mom and dad are going to be fine as long as you don’t do something stupid.”

“I can’t do this. You’ve messed everything up.”

“I’ve mess nothing up. You were never going to give them access to the shop. You were going to get yourself and our parents killed. Richard already sacrificed himself. I’m now a 30-year-old widow. How do you think I feel? I’m taking down the Rio family, and if you don’t promise me that you will behave, I will tie you up in your room until everything is over.”

Junior stayed quiet. He eased back to his room and didn’t say anything for the rest of the day. The next morning was just as quiet. That was until I started to leave.

“Be safe,” Junior said, making his way back up to his room.

“I will.”

The entire family was at Vinnie’s. It seemed as if it was a tradition to gather together when somebody got jumped on the street. Little Frankie could only see out of one eye, and his breaths were shallow from his bruised ribs.

As the festivities picked up, I slipped away from the crowd. I knew my team was waiting just outside of the Rio fortress. I stepped out onto one of the several balconies and stretched. A whistle sounded off in the distance letting me know they had seen my signal.

I reached in my dress and pulled out my gun. After checking the gun, I eased back inside. A second later, the front door busted open. With the distraction on my side, I took off to the staircase. Somebody reached out and grabbed my arm, yanking me around. One of Vinnie’s men hovered over me.

I swung my arm around. He grabbed my arm, causing me to drop the gun. I continued to fight him off, but he deflected every swing. An explosion ricocheted through the house. The giant looked away. I grabbed up a large ceramic vase and smashed it over his head. He took a few steps and tumbled to the ground. I grabbed up my gun and took off downstairs.

“Mom. Dad.” I screamed.

Muffled yells came from down the hall. I took off towards the closed door. I grabbed the knob but it wouldn’t turn.

“Mom, dad, if you can hear me, I need to you move to the far wall.”

Shuffling feet sounded on the other side of the door. I took a step and aimed my gun at the lock. Firing off a shot, the lock blew apart and the door swung open. I stepped inside and saw my mom and dad holding each other in the far corner of the room. When they saw me, they ran and grabbed me up in a hug. For the next minute, I was covered in kisses.

“I love you too, but we have to get out of here,” I said.

“Why are you here?” my dad asked.

“That’s a story for another day.”

I motioned for them to stay behind me as we eased upstairs. Shots bounced off the wall beside us. Ducking against the opposite wall, I glanced around the corner. Little Frankie stood behind a column and fired another shot. I readied my gun and fired at his leg. It glanced off the column missing my target.

Frankie shot at us again, missing by a mile. Having only one good eye made his job a lot harder. I fired again, this time taking out his right knee. He dropped to the floor. I raced to him, never dropping my aim. Kicking the gun away, I turned him on his stomach and shoved my knee into his back.

“I knew you were too good at being bad,” Little Frankie wheezed.

“You kidnapped my parents. Did you honestly think I liked you?”

The house went quiet. My boss stepped around the corner with two officers following him. The house was in shambles. Most of the decorations had been destroyed. The couch was riddled with bullets holes. One of the officers stepped up and handed me a pair of handcuffs. I secured Little Frankie’s hands and stood. Mom and dad eased their way into the room.

“Did you get them?” I asked.

“We did. We took most of them alive. A few were injured, and a couple had to be killed. They hit a couple of our men, but they’ll be fine.”

“Good.”

“Where’s this evidence you found?”

“Down those stairs and all the way at the end of the hall. If you don’t mind, I’d like to take my parents home instead of hanging around here.”

“Go ahead. I’m sure Junior is worried.

***

The three of us stepped up on the curb outside of the deli shop. I could see Junior inside scrubbing the counters. His face was wrinkled in a frown as he scrubbed away his anger. I motioned for my parents to stay outside. The bell rang when I opened the door, bringing Junior’s attention to me. He frowned.

“Why are you here? I thought you were working.” Junior stated, anger rising in his voice.

“I thought I’d bring you present. Especially after everything I’ve put you through this week.”

“What?”

The bell rang again as mom and dad stepped inside. The frown on Junior’s face dissolved into a smile. Racing to mom and dad, he wrapped them in a hug before reaching over to pull me in. We stayed in our huddle for a few minutes more.

We closed the store for the day and spent some much-needed family time together. I explained my whole story and why I had to lie for so long. Unfortunately, Richard never got to find out my secret. He had been a causality that I hadn’t planned on. He wasn’t supposed to get so involved, but the people that killed him were in jail and there was no chance of them getting out.

Short Story – Awaiting Fate

November 20, 2018November 1, 2018 F.A. HuffmanLeave a comment

A note before I begin the story This story is posted on my website, but I wanted to make sure that everybody sees and reads my stories. Let me know what you think.

Bright, bleach white walls gleamed around the room. Matching white furniture sat around the room filled with clients. The soft buzzing of a tattoo machine could barely be heard through the wall. Like clockwork, each 18-year-old glanced at the large grandfather clock standing in the corner. Every hour, on the hour, another fresh adult was taken into the back room where their future would be permanently printed on their skin.

Along the far wall sat a family of ogres. The 18-year-old, Karolos, stared at the clock. He had been there since eight that morning. His family had tried to assure him that he had nothing to worry about. The Doyle family had long been given the fate of antagonizer.

Despoina, a fairy, sat with her family. She sat poised on the edge of her seat, ready to jump the moment she heard her name. She too had been assured that she would end up just like everybody else in the Nolan family. They were all destined to be famous. One of the vaguest fates a person could be given, yet everybody hoped to get it. One couldn’t ask for anything more than to be famous, and they didn’t care how they ended up famous. Despoina’s uncle had only recently reached his fate of being famous by murdering one of the high noble’s daughters. Ironically, the high noble’s daughter’s fate had been to die at a young age. Despoina’s mother and father had achieved fame through the family’s diamond business.

A family of sprites sat with their daughter, Pelagia. Again, she had been told time and time again that everybody in the Brady family had always been fated as a politician. None of these young adults found comfort in their family’s words. Maybe the past few generations had been given the same fate, but it all came down to what Amon chose.

Iris, an elf, sat between her mother and father and watched as everybody kept an eye on the time. She didn’t come from a long line of antagonizers, famous people, or politicians. The Quinn family held many different fates. Her father, Elias, was a prophet. He worked with the nobles when preparing for battle. Her mother, Thalia, was a writer. She worked with the nobles, politicians, and other people of importance to write their history, mainly in the form of a poem.

“Why do we still have to do this?” Iris asked.

“Its tradition,” Elias responded, “Since Amon first came to us he has provided us with our fates.”

“Amon,” Thalia started, “Is the son of the Egyptian God, Amun-Ra. He was in need of a home and he liked our aura.”

Elias told his daughter that Amon had powers much like a prophet, but he also had the power of influencing the future. While he didn’t write the complete future for everybody, he did influence it with his tattoos. Amon had left his Egyptian home because he was tired of being overshadowed by his father. He had discovered his powers 100’s of years ago, but nobody would let him use them.

When he left Egypt, he met a lot of new people that he didn’t even know existed. The Gods and Goddess controlled the types of people that were allowed to live in Egypt, and that had been limited to fairies and sprites. His first day on his own, he had almost been killed by an ogre, ran over by a giant, and taken in by a family of elves. The family of elves invited him to stay in the land of Inis. He agreed to stay and was soon swept into their world.

Inis was so different than Egypt had been. All sorts of people lived there; ogres, giants, sprites, fairies, elves, and more. They all worked with each, and their looks didn’t dictate their personalities. Elves, who wore dark, ominous colors, could be good people. And sprites who wore light, friendly colors, could be bad people. These things amazed Amon.

Once Amon had become used to his new home, he started offering his gift. His first customer has been an 18-year-old fairy that was struggling with her family. Raz’s parents had been grooming her to become a seamstress just like all the other women in their family. Raz despised sewing and felt that she was destined for something more. Amon told her he could set her fate all through a simple tattoo. The catch was, she didn’t get a say so. He would speak to the Gods and Goddess’, and whatever the Universe told him, would be her fate.

Raz agreed. Even if her fate ended up being that of her mother’s and sister’s, she could say she at least tried to be her own person. Amon spoke to the Universe and began her tattoo. When he finished, he revealed a large white rose with eight petals. Confused by the symbolism, Amon explained to Raz what it meant.

The white rose meant that she would be a mystic, working closely with the nobles to help everybody understand what the Gods and Goddess’ wanted. The eight petals meant she would live an infinite life. Amazed and thrilled by her fate, Raz rushed home to her parents.

Soon all of Inis had learned of Amon’s powers and people began to flock to him for their fates. Amon became so overwhelmed by their response that he wouldn’t leave his home. He didn’t know what to do. Nobody had ever been interested in his gift before. How was he going to use his gift for the entire land of Inis? The Universe spoke to Amon and told him that he was to provide the fates to 18-year-olds only. Those that were going through the transition from child to adult. Those that needed the most guidance.

Amon went to the nobles and told them what the Universe had instructed. Within the next week, Amon had set up his shop and began seeing all of the 18-year-olds in Inis. After the current young adults had been fated, it became a ritual for every 18-year-old to visit Amon on their birthday. Parents would wake their children early in the morning and rush them to his shop to await their fate. Some only waited for a few minutes or an hour, while others were there all day. Amon only called them in when the Universe told him to.

After a century of serving the people of Inis, Amon was still an important part of their world. Raz was still working with the nobles, and if anybody ever spoke out against Amon, she was there to share the word of the Gods and Goddess’.

Nobody ever seemed to hold a grudge against Amon, no matter the fate he gave them. They all seemed honored. Iris couldn’t understand how somebody could feel honored after being told they were destined to be murdered. Raz could have simply bucked the system and told her mother that she would following her own dreams. Instead, she went to some stranger for a tattoo. That simple act of rebellion had set the future for every young adult in Inis.

“I can tell you what each and every child in this room will be told,” Elias informed his daughter.

Iris rolled her eyes. Elias enjoyed showing off. Predicting things was his favorite pastime, and his answer to any problem. Whenever Iris was sick as a child, she had to listen to her father tell stories about how sick her friends were going to get. If she felt upset about a grade she made in class, he would tell her the grades of her friends. Now, as she waited for her fate, he was telling her what the other people in the room would get.

“That child over there is going to be a servant. That young lady will become a mistress. Oh, and that…”

“Dad, please,” Iris interrupted.

“Your father means well. You don’t have to quell,” Thalia said.

The large white door that led into Amon’s office squeaked open. Karolos stepped out, stretching his left arm around trying to get a look at the tattoo on his tricep. On his arm stood a large black and white tattoo of three interconnected triangles. His parents started at the simple tattoo. Everybody in his family wore a tattoo that showcased a badger in some fashion.

“Karolos,” the receptionist called out.

Karolos turned to look at the purple haired fairy. She held out a piece of paper for him to take.

“You received the Valknut runic symbol for a warrior. The paper explains more of what you have to look forward to.”

Karolos glanced over the paper, and then over at his family. After being told time and time again that he would be just like them, he ended up being his own person. His mother and father trudged over to him. Karolos’ father threw a large arm around his son’s shoulders.

“Well, it’s been nice knowing you son.”

His mother slapped him on the back before following her husband out the door. Karolos’ uncle grabbed the paper out of his hands, ripping it. Karolos looked over at the receptionist. With a sigh, she handed him another paper.

“Avoid them at all costs,” she whispered.

Iris watched as Karolos trudged out the door. She couldn’t believe that his fate had just cost him his family. Letting out a groan, Iris banged her head back against the wall.

“See, he gets a better future than his family,” Elias stated.

“Maybe, but his family hates him now.”

“They don’t hate him; they’re just not allowed to like him.”

“That’s the same thing.”

“No, it’s not. You need to quit being so distraught. Life is the luck of the draw. It’s not something they could have foreseen.”

Iris and her family sat in silence. In the months leading up to her birthday, she had fought with her parents about her tattoo. Neither understood their daughter’s worries. They had both been ecstatic when it had come time for their tattoos.

What seemed like moments later, Despoina stepped out of Amon’s office. Despoina looked down at the side of her leg at the glistening golden apple. Her mother stepped over to the receptionist to grab her daughter’s information packet. She gave her daughter a peck on the cheek and handed her the packet. Despoina looked at the paper in her hand. She frowned. Her father led them out the door as her mother patted her on the back. Iris looked at her father.

“She’s following in her families footsteps. She’s going to be famous, but because she is going to be a mistress to someone of great importance.”

“That’s horrible,” Iris mumbled.

“Look on the bright side, it could have been matricide,” Thalia assured.

A little while later, Pelagia shuffled out of Amon’s office. On her shoulder stood a while lily wrapped in an orange noose. Pelagia’s parents ran to her, tears in their eyes. She took her paper from the receptionist and trudged out the door. Iris looked over at her parents.

Elias explained that the lily meant that she would forever be a virgin. Not because she was going to be alone, but because she would stand up for what she believes in. The orange noose meant that she would commit suicide one day for something noble. Iris knew her father wasn’t telling the whole story, but she was okay with that. The less she knew the better.

The receptionist stood.

“Iris Quinn, Amon is ready for you.”

Iris’ parents patted her on the back as she stood. She eased her way to the far white door. As she made her way closer, the door eased open. Iris stepped into the dark room. The smell of sage and rosemary filled the air. A partition was set up in the corner for Amon to meditate. A large black tattoo chair sat in the middle of the room. A stainless steel table sat next to it. Tiny plastic cups were lined up on the table. The closer she walked to the chair, the more she could smell alcohol and soap. The sound of snapping gloves came from behind the partition.

“Please remove your shirt and lay face down in the chair.”

Iris watched as the chair moved itself into a reclined position. She did as she was told. The black vinyl chair crunched as she laid down. Her skin stuck to the seat, ripping up as she tried to find a comfortable position.

Amon sat down and squeezed cool soapy water onto a paper towel and cleaned Iris’ upper back. Next, he cleaned her back with alcohol. Amon grabbed transfer paper with an intricate design drawn on it. With smooth precision, he laid the paper across her back and smoothed it out. He peeled the paper away, leaving behind the outline of her tattoo. Amon picked up his tattoo machine. He foot pressed a button on the floor, bringing drilling sound from the machine. He dipped the needles into black ink. As he eased them out, black ink slung across the blue paper towel that lined the table.

Once he had his machine loaded with ink, he lined over Iris’ back and drew a permanent black line. Iris craned her neck trying to see what he was doing. All she could see was the blinding overhead lights. The needles tickled across her back drawing line after line on her skin. She tried to follow the lines to figure out what he was drawing, but just as she thought she had figured out the pattern, Amon would switch positions.

What felt like a century later, Amon squeezed the cold soapy water across her back, wiping the excess ink away. A warm, stinging sensation remained on Iris’ back.

“You may get dressed and leave,” Amon said as he stepped back behind the partition.

As Iris sat up, she could feel the swelling in her back as she moved her arms to slip her shirt back on. She glanced around the room for a mirror, but nothing hung on the walls. Again, as she walked towards the door, it opened to let her out. She stepped out into the glaring light of the waiting room. Faces turned towards her, a mixture of concern and worry spread across them. She glanced over at the receptionist who held out a piece of paper. Iris blindly took the paper, and without looking at it, walked over to her parents.

Iris turned her back to them. Her mom eased her shirt away from her back to reveal her tattoo. On her back stood a majestic peacock with its tail feathers spread. Bright blues and greens popped out of the drawing. The peacock wore a chain of bright purple irises. Tahlia spun her daughter around and wrapped her in a hug.

“What is it?” Iris croaked through her mother’s crushing embrace, “Am I going to die.”

“No,” Elias started, “Far from it. You’re going to be an Elvin ruler.”

“Really?”

Thalia pushed the information sheet up so Iris would read it. Across the top, written in gold script, were the words ‘Elvin Ruler.’ The only other words on the paper were clan leader. Iris had hoped the paper would explain everything. Even though it bothered her not knowing how she was going to reach her destiny, she liked having a bit of uncertainty left in her future. Her parents wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her out the door.

FYI:

Grab your copy of Loved by Death on Amazon. I will be making Loved by Death: Book One of The Wolfsbane Chronicles available for free on Kindle in the coming weeks, so make sure you keep an eye out so that you don’t miss your chance.

Six Hilarious Tips to Create Comedy in Your Story

November 8, 2018November 4, 2018 F.A. HuffmanLeave a comment

Have you ever wanted to write something that will make a person laugh? Then have I got some good tips for you. If you don’t like to make people laugh, you will have to wait your turn. I’ll get to you.

Laughter comes along with instant benefits to a person. It can improve the immune system, cure male pattern baldness, helps them relax, and lowers blood pressure. Now, before I jump into the tips to add laughter to your writing, I want to address those that don’t want to make people laugh. Why? Are you afraid of one of the following:

“I’m not funny.” – Have you ever laughed? If you have, then you have a sense of humor.
“My stuff is serious writing.” – It’s not going to hurt your readers to get a little surprise chuckle.
“Nobody understands my humor.” – You are probably trying too hard.

Humor can be tricky because everybody finds different things funny. But there are different things you can do that will almost guarantee that you can get a smile from just about anybody.

Edit it like crazy.

In reality, being funny is actually quite hard. Your first draft is going to have some goods stuff, so use the other tips in this list and make it better. The rewrite it. Once you think you have it, ask a friend to read it quietly as you watch them. Look at the corners of their eyes. Once you see their eyes crinkle a bit, you breathe a sigh of relief.

2. Find a swipe file.

Swipe files have a collection of comedy gold that you might not have thought up yourself. You don’t have to worry about plagiarism because it is there to help people.

3. Grab a thesaurus.

Finding that really good word can help to change and “eh” into hysterical laughs. It could be the spelling of the words or how it sounds with the other words that send your joke over the top.

4. Comedic timing is everything.

This could just mean that you add a word in at the last second to grab a laugh. You can also force a pause in your writing, and then hit them with the funny part. This can be used to surprise your reader with a funnier direction than they had expected.

5. Specificity is key.

Specifics tend to be funnier. People like specifics because they can visualize it better than generalities.

6. Be the joke.

The only way you can make fun of something without offending other people is to be that something. Readers will love to laugh at you and your life. That means you can use not only yourself, but your kids, pets, parents, spouse, your job, and so on.

I do believe you guys are ready to go write something hilariously funny. Now get to it. Share a bit of gold with me if you would like. Trust me, I’m an easy laugh.

FYI: