Frozen – A Friday Flash Short Story


She was watching, always watching, silently frozen within the cold prison of carved stone.
Her capturer mocking her at first, from his mighty palace, parading by, every chance he got reminding her whom imprisoned her within.
But his whispers grew weaker with each passing year, while she remained young, the maiden who refused the king.
How dare her embark on the journey of displeasing the ruler, the one who could take anyone whom he wanted, no matter if there heart and body belonged to another.
Defending her, her mate had died in her arms on that fateful day, the cruel smile of the King resting upon them both as his life slid away into the cracks in the palace floor.
The anger and hatred toward the monarch of their land grew within her with each day as she stood overlooking the palace in its prime and glory. Patiently contemplating her revenge, she waited for the King to grew weaker, and with it his spell.
Until it was time.
The shadows of the night whispering in her ear, urging her on to free herself, to move and bring the doom upon the land, it’s people and it’s king.
With a swift motion of her arm, and a scream that pierced the night, she was finally free, her beautiful, preserved face glaring upon those beneath her with the hate of 40 years imprisonment.

Claudia H. Blanton 2014 – 2016


Watch Free Online Classes Live On CreativeLive! Choose from many creative programs!


Today’s daily prompt took me by surprise and a little off guard.

Write the blurb for the book jacket of the book you’d write, if only you had the time and inclination.

Photographers, artists, poets: show us BOOKS.

Having been focused so much on getting at least 75000 words on paper, I am currently going to for LENGTH and DETAIL, as relating to the novel I am working on, so bringing it back down to it’s essence is a interesting and challenging change of pace. But I will attempt non-less.

So here is the essence of “The Keeper”, the first book of a dark fantasy series I am currently working on.

“Summer 2010, 3-37 pm, 4 people end their lives in a small town in Southern California.

Three years later, Spring 2013 12:51 pm, 5 people take their lives in the most gruesome way.

With nothing tying  them together, and no explanation for their behavior, the new Chief of Police, Don Matthews begins to investigate their suspicious deaths, uncovering deep rooted secrets, while finding himself tangled in a web of family cover-ups, magick, and the mysterious women of the most prominent family of the City of Alden.

Enter the hidden world of “The Keeper”, where nothing is what is seems, and the mundane blends with the magickal.” 



Healing – A Haiku

sweet act of kindness
broken spirit healed with love
tender connection

Copyright Claudia H. Blanton

This was written for today’s daily prompt “Kindness”, which you can find here:


Predictions – A Daily Prompt Post

Today’s Daily Prompt:

There are 344 days remaining in the year. Describe what you’d like to be doing on day 211. (Hint: that’s July 30th.)

I like this daily prompt, because I believe in setting exact goals, knowing what you want, and then letting the Universe handle the rest. Well, where do I want to be?

July 30th, we have already moved to the Los Angeles area, by that time (our goal is the end of February), so I will be in LA, having lunch with my Agent, discussing publishing details. I still have to find a place with really good vegetarian cuisine there, but considering how this town is a foodies dream come true, that should not be any problem. If anyone of you lives in LA, do you know of a great restaurant that serves some if not all vegetarian meals?

Have a wonderful day, everyone! 

No Victim


There had been rumors about this, the man of the woods. The one who would kidnap people just to see them struggle in their desperation, struggle to get free, and find their way home.

He was not into some sick kind of torture, no, the terrifying desperation of his victims, mostly women was enough for him to enjoy, as a thrill. No marks left on them, only those applied via the struggle of escape, the run through rough terrain, never knowing if he would come back and finish them off.
But he never did.

I never thought that he would come after me. Not exactly build like the victim of chance, I was a fighter, knew how to tear into the flesh off another without the single thought of regret. MMA had taught me how to be hard. The Army taught me how to survive.

I was no victim of any kind, yet somehow he managed to drug me, binding me, and leaving me in the midst of a forest he thought I would struggle to escape from.

Calming my breath, and heartbeat, I surveyed my surroundings.
He was still there, watching, close by, I could sense his eyes upon me, somewhere out there. He was awaiting, seeing if the struggle would get him off, but he did pick the wrong woman.
A small smile escaped my lips, as I easily broke out of my half-hazardous restrains of tape and rope.

Time to hunt.


Copyright Claudia H. Blanton 2014

Reputation – A Friday Flash Crime Story

“I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”
“I got that, Stew. Let this one go. No one is going to blame you if you let this one go.”
“This ain’t a buisness for sentimentals.”
“I am not talking ’bout sentimentals, dumb ass, I am talking about an infant. Why in the hell is there is hit on a freaking infant?”
“What do I know? I don’t ask questions. I have a reputation.”
“To hell with your reputation.”
“Hey,” he bowed up at his partner, raising his fist.
“Boys, quit it. No fighting in my living room. Not when you where kids, not ever. Got it?”
The answered in unisom. “Yes M’am.”
“Now what are you kids biggering about? You both have a job to do. Do it. Money is good, job is easy. Get it over with.”
“It’s a baby, Ma.”
“So? They grow up, do damage. Just look at you too. Go do the job, and bring the money. I send your little brother to get stuff for dinner. Got a special meal planned tonight.”
Bruce grinned at Stew. “It’s today, isn’t it? I almost forgot.”
“Well I didn’t,” Stews voice beaming with satisfaction.
“I would never forget the anniversary of her first.”
“Stop kissing her behind.”
“Boys get to work. Kill the damn kid, I want you home for supper.”

Copyright Claudia H. Blanton 2014

This blog post is a responds to the daily prompt “reputation”, which you can find here: 

The Paper


Everybody dreaded getting the newspaper. But like a good little herd of sheep, every morning, everyone who was old enough to read, stood in line in the three places the paper was given out – the central grocery store, the post office on the other side of town, and the largest church, adjacent to the state park.
Everyone hesitated to look at the obituaries at the end of the publication, but they all ended up doing so, no matter which ritual they compiled to get there, or how many distractions where in their day.
They all looked, just like my parents did, everyday, waiting until we were home, where we sat around the table. My father overlooked the procedure, being the one who quietly read each name as it showed itself upon that dreadful page.
No one wanted to see their name there.
No one wanted to see the name of a loved one there.
Because the paper knew.
It knew when it was your time to die.

This morning, like any other, he was reading quietly, sipping the cup of coffee Mom provided for, each and every time, freshly brewed, moved into the fine china our Grandmother had brought from Germany. The delicate handles never hid the slight shaking of his hand, and the smile of relief he gave all of us, when none of our names where listed.
Another day living without the burden of death.
His expression on this morning was different.
He starred at me, a deep stare, one what questioned but one that also knew that I had been watching him. Closely.
He quickly rose up, leaving the paper behind, moving out of the room, as I grabbed it, frozen by the words in front of me, in the silence of dinning table.
“Dr. Wayne Duncan, 52, will be put to rest at the Cornerstone Baptist Church, together with his wife Sherry Duncan 43. The couple will be missed by their three children, Mary, Jennifer, and Jackson.”
In a move to keep the sight from my younger siblings, I pulled it closer and turned it, only to be shocked by its headline.
“Two dead in murder-suicide. Prominent West-End Doctor beats his wife to death, then shoot and kills himself.”

Copyright Claudia H. Blanton 2014

This is a responds to the Daily Prompt post for today, you can find it here: