Dinner at Eight – Tracy Davidson
1500 word Romance
Jenny’s reluctant to attend a dinner party, knowing she’s going to be set up by her well-meaning, but terrible at matchmaking, friend. Will this time be any different?
Jenny checked her messages as soon as she got in from work. “Hi, Jen, it’s Mel here. Just checking to make sure you hadn’t forgotten about tonight. Dinner’s at eight, so don’t be late!” Message two played. “It’s Mel again! Er, now please don’t be cross, but I have invited someone along for you to meet. He’s just the perfect man for you, Jen. Really. I mean it this time. Why don’t you wear that little black dress? No man can resist you in that. See you later.”
The Angry Wife – Tracy Davidson
1300 words Women’s Fiction
Our heroine is having blissful dreams about Hugh Jackman when she’s rudely interrupted. Who is this strange woman banging on her hotel room door? And why is she yelling at her in the middle of the night?
I was rudely, and very unwillingly, dragged from a delightful dream by raised voices outside my bedroom door. The dream involved a naked Hugh Jackman and a tub of whipped cream, and had just reached a very interesting point – literally – so, needless to say, I was somewhat reluctant to return to the real world. Especially such a noisy one. A woman’s voice was the loudest. Even though the thickness of the hotel bedroom walls and door muffled her words, it was perfectly clear from both volume and tone that she was pissed. In more ways than one.
The Execution of Gavin Weston – Tracy Davidson
500 words Crime Fiction
Who is watching behind the glass as death row inmate Gavin Weston finally has his sentence carried out? Why are they there? Can witnessing such an event bring closure?
It is time. This is it, what we have been waiting for these past ten long years. What we have been both dreading and looking forward to, in the hope that once it is done, we can finally move on with our lives.
The Voices – Tracy Davidson
700 words Crime Fiction
As a court considers whether a killer is sane enough to stand trial, the man in question reflects on events that led him there. Will the voices in his head ever let up?
The voices tell me to do things, and I obey them. If I don’t, they shout and scream obscenities at me until my head aches and my ears ring. They are always with me, but at least when they’re happy, when I do what they want, their volume diminishes to a pleasing background hum.