Three entries: Two final entries by Jessica Samuels and Jamie Sue Wilsoncroft! Way to go!

Tommy from the Middle Feast Food Truck Tweeted to me yesterday afternoon. He has all three entries. I should have a decision soon. In the meantime, here are the entries.

The link for Jessica Samuels' entry: http://creativewritersboost.blogspot.com/2015/08/jessica-samuels-thriller-contest-entry.html

The link for Jamie Sue Wilsoncroft's entry: http://creativewritersboost.blogspot.com/2015/08/and-last-but-not-least-red-by-jamie-sue.html

In case you missed Stephanie Parke's entry, here it is:
 http://creativewritersboost.blogspot.com/2015/08/the-first-middle-feast-thriller-entry.html

Enjoy!

And last, but not least - Red by Jamie Sue Wilsoncroft!

 

                                                                 Red

                                 Written by J.S. Wilsoncroft

            I remember the first time I saw the red eyes. It was in the middle of the night and I had woken up freezing cold. My room was like an ice box which was odd because it was in the middle of July. I got up from my bed and closed the window. Feeling parched, I had decided to go downstairs to get a glass of water. I stepped out into the hallway and stopped. There were two red eyes staring up at me from the bottom of the stairs. Shivers grew up my spine, making me shiver again. I shook my head and blinked a few times, thinking maybe it was just my imagination playing games with me, but the fiery red eyes were still there, staring up at me, watching me.

 

            I felt stiff, like a statue. I couldn’t move, only staring back at the creepy eyes.

 

            I knew I should have been scared, but for some strange reason I couldn’t respond. I could visually see myself screaming, running to my parent’s room and waking them up, but my feet were frozen to the stairs and my lips remained sealed. It was like I was having one of those out of body experiences. I could feel tears streaming down my cheeks as well, but I wasn’t feeling the emotion of being scared. I was numb.

            Then I heard the strange music. It was nothing like the hard rock bands I normally listened too or pop rock songs that was played on the radio. This music sounded different, from a different era.  I tilted my head towards the direction of the music, towards the eyes.

            “Don’t sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me. Anyone else but me, anyone else but me.” A male voice sang quietly.

            My eyes were glued to the two red eyes as I slowly walked down the stairs, humming along to the song, which was odd because I had never heard of the song before in my short (17 year) life.

            I followed the eyes as they led me into the dining room, where the music grew louder.

            “Don’t go walking down Lover’s Lane with anyone else but me…” The male voice continued to sing.

            “Who are you?” I gasped and spun around expecting to see someone standing beside me, but no one was there. It was then I realized it was my own voice that had spoken.

            The music stopped and the red eyes disappeared as quickly as they came.

            A whoosh sound brushed against my ear and suddenly my heart was pounding in my chest. The front of my pajamas was soaked with tears or maybe it was sweat and I was shaking uncontrollably.

It was like I had finally woken up from a bad dream.

But was it really a dream?

 

            I quickly flicked the light switch on the wall, temporarily blinding myself. When my eyes finally adjusted to the bright light, I glanced around the dining room expecting to see someone or something, but everything seemed to be in order. I took a deep breath and walked in the kitchen for a glass of water. My hand shook violently as I grabbed a glass from the cupboard. I turned the faucet and filled the glass with cold water, then sat down at the table.

            My skin felt cold against my damp pajamas as I continued to shiver, wondering what the hell had just happened.

            “I was dreaming. There’s no other explanation for it. I was walking in my sleep.” I told myself as I downed the last sip of water and returned the glass to the sink.

            I slowly walked through the dining room, glancing at every corner, then turned off the light and headed back up the stairs. As each step I took, my breathing became more erratic.

            There’s someone in your room Lily! Don’t go in there!

            It was happening again.

            Lily wake up! Don’t go in there. He’s in there, waiting for you

            “Who? Who’s in there?” I heard my voice, but my lips didn’t seemed like there were moving. It was the strangest thing I had ever experienced and it was scaring the living shit out of me. I felt like I had no control what was going on with my body or what was even coming out of my mouth. My feet continued to carry me up the stairs towards my room, but I couldn’t tell if it was my conscious or sub-conscious mind telling me not to go there.

            Am I sleep walking again?

            NO!

            “Lily!” A male voice whispered my name.

 

            My feet stopped just outside my room. I could feel my heart pounding again as I struggled to catch my breath. Now my hair was soaked, clinging to my neck and face.

            “What the hell is going on?” I screamed, clasping my chest, trying to calm my heart down. Then the strange music started again.

            No, no, no, don’t go walking down Lover’s Lane with anyone else but me, till I come marching home.

            Goosebumps covered my entire body. The voice came from behind me.

            I slowly turned around and gasped. Standing before me was a young man wearing an early 1900’s tan army-like overcoat with matching colored pants and a metal tanker helmet. Again, my mind was screaming for me to run like hell, but I stood there, cocking my head to the side, my dark wet hair dangling like a wet mop, staring back at this strange yet familiar looking soldier.

            A strange sensation came over me as he held out his hand, “Lily, my love. Come sit under the apple tree with me.” He smiled and the red eyes appeared again.

            “Evan!” I whispered, then gasped, surprised that I knew his name. His red eyes squinted as his head tilted back and let out a deep belly laugh. He takes my hand and leads me towards my bedroom. His hand felt like ice blocks, but for some strange reason it didn’t bother me. I felt warm inside. The shivers and goosebumps had gone away.

            We stepped into my room and the door slams shut, making me jump and squeal.

            “Shhh…come sing with me.” He turned to me, his infra-red eyes boring into mine.

            “Are you Evan?” I asked, wondering how in the hell I know that name. The corner of his lips curled up so tight into his cheeks it reminded me of The Joker from Batman, minus the make-up of course. I glanced down at the small brass nametag on his uniform. It read STINER.

            Stiner? Stiner? Where have I heard that last name before? Evan Stiner?

            He glanced down at his breast pocket, at the nametag and chuckled.

            “Is it all coming back to you yet? Do you remember me yet?” He whispered in my ear then begins humming the song again.

            “Don’t sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me.” He leaned down and kissed my hand and suddenly I got flashbacks of myself standing under an apple tree. Only I’m not alone. He’s there too, his eyes still red and blood dripping from his hands. I glance down at the ground and notice something moving in the puddle of blood. I kneel down to get a closer look and scream. It’s a human heart and it’s still beating. I fall back on the ground and clasps my chest. It’s all wet and warm. I look down at the bloody hole in my dress and everything goes red.

 

 

 

           

 

           

 

 

             

 

                                                                

Jessica Samuels' Thriller contest entry!

I’m being chased by someone…

I have no idea why. All I do is cook food along with my team to make people happy. That’s it, and I have no clue why anyone would even want my team dead. It’s not like they do drugs, or anything sketchy of that nature. My name is Tommy Marudi, and I have dark brown hair, brown eyes, and tan with a skinny build. I opened up my own restaurant called Paprika Grill. I won food truck race, and I now own a food truck tool. Along with my sister named Hilla, and she has long brown hair, dark brown eyes, and a tan. She works with me in the restaurant, and lastly is my friend Arkadi Kluger who has blondish brown hair, brown eyes, and tattoos.  We won the Food truck race, and now have our own to take on the road with us.

It doesn’t matter to the person chasing us. All of us are in the food truck, and we are on the highway right now. I’m not scared at all just nervous and I need to lose the tail following us. I’m running away because it’s the only possible solution to get to the house, and confront the idiot. I don’t want to die at all, and I don’t want my friends to pay the price for something I did. I drive us all, and Hilla is silent along with Arkadi.

“Have we lost him?” he asked me.

“Not yet.” I told him. I finally see the sign for Shady Hills, and then I take that exit. There is a safe house there, and it will allow us to find the stuff we need to stay safe. There is a gun there too, so this bastard can be stopped once and for all. I smiled at Arkadi and Hilla.

“Don’t worry I’ll keep you all safe, and then the tail will be stopped.”

Hilla smiled, “I have the same idea you do brother, and if you want me to send in the hounds I will.”

I smiled at her, “When we get to the house do it because I should not have given the vampire that girl, and it’s probably him that’s chasing us.”

Arkadi’s eyes widened, “You had to do that though. She was a horrible person that deserve to die. She used men like tissue paper, and stole the boyfriends who belonged to someone. She was a convict that loved to do drugs.”

I sighed, “True, but she must have done something to make the vampire go after us using their human servants.”

I park the van, and we get out after I turn on BloodFall lane at the old mansion safe place. It was used for parties and the powerful rituals that we did. We are witches/necromancers, and we came here to hide among the humans. The girl was named Sandy Hill, and she deserved to pay for trying to steal a few items from us. It was fun to pretend to be human, and I love to cook food. They don’t have anything in the Luxor realm like the Crystal Crest. I just never thought they would find me here.

The mansion is dark, and I end up turning on the lights to lighten the place up. The confrontation is inevitable, and we just need to make them disappear. The human that was following us disappeared. Stopped just after the exit, and I just know he is going to tell his vampire friend where we are. We need to use this house as a batttle ground. I think he’ll bring a few vampire buddies too covering his own ass. I don’t even bother with a spell to seal the front door.  My sister loves her pet hellhounds Fire and Ice. One is red and the other is blue, and they love chewing up vampires. She feeds them with it. The more they eat creatures the stronger they get. They are fast too, and I’m sure they will not loose against vampires. Arcadia comes in fully suited with arrows and bows in hand. He prepares for it by lighting up the arrows he will use to shoot the vampires with. Me I prepare for it by loading up my special gun with silver bullets and call it a day.

“Ready for the battle to begin, and next time. Just let the horrible bitch live instead of sending a vampire after her.”

Hilla comes through the door hellhounds behind her, “Ready now, and just let karma get her next time even if she was a bitch.”

“Next time there won't be a next time because you three owe me. Thanks for bringing me a blood whore.”

My eyes widened, “We didn’t know she was one at all.”

“Well, she killed my buddy Claude since she was infected by silver in her blood.”

My…My…”I still didn’t know about it, and if you want to die then keep talking.”

“I have help this time.”

A few more vampires flank him on both sides. This will be fun.

“Okay, but we are stronger then you still, and my hours love to eat you…” Hilla taunted.

“Time to die.” the lead vampire said. They advance on sand we fought back with them. Match for match. I got the leader and my sister and Arkadi got the other two.

I punch the head vampire, and he ducks. Great. I run to get the gun already loaded in case of an emergency. I aim it at the vampires head, and it explodes. Done. I guess they are not faster then a speeding bullet. Oh well. The hounds are chewing the vampires, and I just laugh at this. Nope, we need the house for times like this. I was not burning the house. I’m happy it’s all over since it means I don’t have to worry anymore. I care about them, and they are like family. The girl backstabbed my sister and cheated on my friend. She deserved what she got. Women like her should not exist at all, and finally karma caught up to her which is the way it should be since karma is a real bitch. I’m going back to my food truck to make wonderful food for people and that’s why I love the Crystal Crest realm…

 The end

The first Middle Feast Thriller entry - The Kidnapping by Stephanie Parke.

She groaned as trickles of light entered her dark prison. She stifled a whimper as she smacked against a shovel. She feels the sweat slip down her spine as the cold metal touches her. She’d seen the movies, she knew what it was for. The tears ran down her face as she pulled at her bonds, she’d been trying for hours since he’d grabbed her and she had no luck freeing herself from the zip ties. She felt panic sink in and shuddered as she fought the vomit back down her throat. She looked wildly around at the dark interior of the car’s trunk, hoping for a way out.

She wished to god that she had not gone to that parking lot, she knew it was on the edge of the bad part of town, but she hadn’t been able to resist the Middle Feast’s food. She cursed her need for chicken Shawarama but knew it was hysteria kicking in.  She’d walked away from that food truck nibbling her chicken and onions a happy carefree eighteen year old and had left the parking lot somebody’s victim. He’d grabbed her as she’d been unlocking the door and she’d tried to scream, but it had been no use. With a swift punch she’d seen only darkness.

She had no idea really how long she’d been unconscious, an hour, a day, Oh God wasn’t anyone looking for her? Did anyone even notice she was gone yet? Her parents were divorced, her mom worked all the time and her brother was so stoned that no one noticed her. She began to cry again her eyes darted around the cars trunk, in the taillights dim red glow she saw that the car did have a release hatch on the inside, if she could just reach it. She stretched with her bound arms and just missed it. She was crying harder now as her sweaty fingers scrabbled on the lid of the trunk. She knew her fingers were bleeding but this was her only chance, otherwise she was done. She kicked with her foot in frustration and felt the taillight wiggle. Hope sprang up in her and she kicked and kicked again until with a crack and a quick tinkle of sound it bounced out letting in the cool night air.

She nudged her foot out the hole shaking it wildly, hoping for help, hoping someone would see. She waived it wildly barely noticing that the car was slowing down and eventually stopping. She whimpered again as the car came to a gravel crunching halt. She jerked her foot back in, numb with terror as the slam of the door rocked the car. The footsteps moved closer, each step smashing gravel into the dirt as he came closer. She knew that she had one chance when he opened the door and she had to take it. She willed herself to stay calm, willed herself to stay still, to cower. She didn’t want to admit to herself that she was scared as hell.

The foot steps stopped and the trunk lid slid up revealing the outline of a man. She pulled back but he reached his big hands in for her. The touch of his hand on her sleeve set her off. She fought with everything she was worth. She hit and punched and finally managed to kick him in the nuts. He growled and released her as he cupped his privates and bellowed in anger. She didn’t waste any time, springing up and out of the trunk she forced her numb legs to work as she ran. She heard him behind her, knew he was trying to catch her, but she wasn’t going to be anyone’s victim.

She stumbled and got up as quickly as she could. She could hear other cars nearby and sprinted through the scrubby woods toward the highway. She could smell the leftover bits of busted tires and could hear the crunch of broken glass as she ran for it. She could smell the asphalt and to her it was the best smell in the world. Her sketcher caught on the side of the road and she almost tripped. She righted herself but went down anyway as a large calloused hand closed over her ankle and pulled. She screamed and kicked as she turned over, she lay in the shadows by the side of the road, the light was only inches away and she could feel his hand gripping her leg.

“Don’t be afraid” a cold voice hissed as he pulled “you’ll like it.”

“Screw you” she screamed as she pulled at her leg. She kicked out and connected with his face. A sickening crunch made her feel a surge of hope as his large hand dropped off her leg. She scrambled forward and into traffic, not really caring if she got hit, anything was preferable to the woods, the darkness and the man with the cold voice.

Cars screeched to a stop inches from her and she stood in the glare of the headlights crying and sobbing hysterically, never feeling more glad to hear anyone call her a stupid bitch. She stood in the warmth of the light shivering and avoiding looking at the shadows.

*************************************************************************************

She nestled under the blanket and nursed her coffee, not sure if she would ever be warm again. The cold seemed to have seeped into her bones.  It had been two weeks since the kidnapping and she still couldn’t sleep at night, still couldn’t be alone. The television studios had called to discuss the possibility of making her story into a movie and she was repulsed by it. She wanted to tell them to all go to hell, but knew her mother wouldn’t let her. She knew her mother thought she should tell her story, make it all public, accept her own bravery. The problem was she didn’t feel brave.

She’d finally had enough of them hovering over her so she’d insisted they go down the street to the local Italian place for dinner. They’d gone grudgingly, at least they earned bonus points for that. She’d made them go though, wanting to face her fear. Now she stood on the closed in screen porch and tried not to give into the feeling creeping up her spine.

She didn’t hear the porch creak. She stood leaning on the rail wishing somewhere deep inside her that things were different. That all of this had never happened.  The arms closed around her from behind and she tried to scream but the hand over her mouth was solid.

“Hello little bitch” the voice said silkily “you really didn’t think you would get away that easily did you?” The hand holding her body began to wander and she tried to scream and pull away. “I’ve come to finish what we started.”

She felt her mind go blank and then click into place as she felt the cold of the gun barrel at her throat. She had to do something.  Her mind raced as she sought the answer, then it came to her. She jerked her head back and cracked it into his face. He let her go with a scream, rolling over, both hands cupped around his nose growling.

“What the hell did you do that for?” he asked in a startled voice through his hands, as he looked up at her “are you crazy?”

She smiled down at him and clicked the chamber open spinning it. She knelt down beside him and brushed the hair back from his forehead. His whole skin was bright pink from her head and she tisked.

“No, it just looks better for me if it looks like I’ve fought you.” She reached up and pulled at the neck of her blouse until the fabric ripped. Then she scratched her cheek and knelt down beside him. “You see” she said in a low voice as she clicked the chamber back into place with a cold snap “It will sell better if you came back and attacked me and I saved myself, NBC and ABC and touchstone pictures are already clamoring for the story, I just want to make sure it’s a good one.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he said dumbly as he sat up releasing his nose. Deputy Joshua Warren felt the unease growing inside him as he watched her play with the gun. He knew he shouldn’t have gotten involved with her but he couldn’t resist. Forty year old deputies don’t get a chance at young tail, even if she liked to play rough games.

“You are so stupid” she said softly as she pointed the gun at him and clicked the safety off “ I have to tie up all the lose ends, and you are a lose end, how can I sell my kidnapping story if you are around? How does that look if they think I planned it?

“But you did plan it” he mumbled as he felt his bladder clench at the sight of his own service pistol pointed at him. “You said you wanted me to be rough.”

“I say a lot of things Joshua,” she said softly as she raised the gun “Deal with it.” She squeezed her finger and pulled the trigger hitting him in the middle of the eyes. Joshua’s last thought as he went down were that he had been so stupid.

 Katie wiped her eyes and sat in the silence, gun in hand. She grabbed her cell phone and dialed with calm fingers. “Hello,” she said in her best shaky voice “I need help”. She smiled as she gave the frantic description of what had happened to the operator. Damn I’m good she thought to herself as she cradled the phone between her ear and her shoulder,  and her drama teacher had said she couldn’t act. 

Two things: Thriller writing contest deadline extended until Friday. P.S. Send me your ebooks to review!

Hi everybody,

I blogged about the Middle Feast Food Truck thriller writing contest on a Monday. Probably not a good idea. The deadline has been extended until Friday, August 28th.  Here is the link for the contest: http://creativewritersboost.blogspot.com/2015/08/meet-middle-feast-inspiration-for-this.html

P.S. Also, anyone who wants to gift me an ebook so I can review it on Amazon, just message me on Twitter at @WritersBoost or on Facebook under Liz Kingsbury McKeown. Thanks in advance.

Coming soon: A Tale for the Butcher Babe. Pulp Fiction contest for Chef Loreal Gavin!

Chef Loreal is the spunky, colorful finalist from last year's Food Network Star. She also recently won Cutthroat Kitchen. Once the current thriller writing contest is finished, approximately on Saturday, August 29th, I will start Loreal's Pulp Fiction short story contest on Monday, August 31st. So, writers, start September off right with a Pulp Fiction story of your own, inspired by the Butcher Babe!

Tweet to Loreal at @ChefLoreal

Meet Middle Feast, the inspiration for this thriller writing contest!

Since winning the 5th season of the Great Food Truck race last year, Middle Feast has been doing everything according to Chef Tommy Marudi, "Parties, weddings, festivals." The Middle Feast Food Truck just came back from the Long Beach Jazz Festival (link): https://www.facebook.com/longbeachjazzfestival/photos/a.415004308522356.93916.138614146161375/951324911556957/

Curious about their wedding catering? Here is the link from their new website: http://themiddlefeastfoodtruck.com/weddings.html

Who are the famous Isreali Chefs from Middle Feast?

Tommy Marudi was born in Los Angeles, CA. and found interest in cooking at a very young age. He quit school and started working at his uncle’s restaurant in Tel Aviv, IL, there he learned the deepest secrets of the culinary world. When he moved back to L.A he worked at a popular restaurant where he displayed a talent for reinventing dishes, and eventually opened his own kosher establishment, Paprika Grill, which was recognized by Los Angeles Magazine as having the best Israeli breakfast in the city.

Hilla Marudi, Tommy’s sister also moved to L.A and while studying for her degree in 3D Animation, worked together with Tommy in his restaurant. and has a great sense of customer service and sales and developed a big interest in culinary arts as well.

And then there's Arkadi....

Arkadi Kluger has been Tommy and Hilla’s close friend ever since he arrived in the US. Arkadi always had a passion for cooking and giving his own touch to traditional dishes. He believes that flavors can bring people together.

******************************

And now, the contest. Tommy has chosen the genre: Thriller. Short stories have an approximate maximum length of 1,500 words. What do you get if you win? Besides having me blog about your individual entry, you get a storm of publicity on Facebook and Twitter.  Deadline for story submission is two weeks from today, Monday, August 24th. I will be calling Tommy for a decision on Friday, August 28th. How do you find me to enter? You can Tweet to me at @WritersBoost or you can message me on Facebook where I'm listed as Liz Kingsbury McKeown. So, come and thrill us with your short story!

Like dark fairy tales? Come to this book release party next Sunday!

Facebook party! Here is the who, what, when, where, why and how:
https://www.facebook.com/events/882311915147828/       So, come if you can. We'd love to have you!