Amanda Siegrist's Blog, page 2

Flash Fiction Friday!

Happy Friday, lovelies! Hope you had a fabulous week! If you missed my post earlier this week, The Wrong Brother finally released on Tuesday. Eek! So exciting. I hope you enjoy this week’s flash!

Writing Prompt ~ Not good enough. (Provided by Melissa) Scene #2

Rory followed the woman toward her house, wondering how long this would take. It didn’t take a genius to figure out this woman didn’t kill her boss. Roger Fontain had been bludgeoned to death with a hammer. This woman looked like it killed her just to run around the block. He had seen her run out of her house and followed her a bit before driving back to her house to wait for her.

But he’d do his job like he always did and eliminate her as a suspect with actual evidence and not the way his gut always told him what was up. His captain never liked it when he said his gut told him so. Seriously. The thing spoke up all the time. What else could he say?

Ms. Duncan unlocked her door and stepped inside, grasping the side of the door as he walked in as well. He didn’t miss the way her knuckles looked white, her hand slightly shaking.

So she was nervous. Interesting. He honestly didn’t think she killed her boss, but what could she be nervous about?

Well, okay. He wasn’t exactly a people person. He came off abrupt to—well, everyone. But it’s one of the reasons he liked homicide. Dead people didn’t talk back. And when it came to solving a crime, he didn’t care how he came off to anyone because his main goal was to catch the bad guy. Dealing with actual victims always twisted his stomach the wrong way. Literally to the point he wanted to puke. He couldn’t handle their emotions. Too high strung. Too chaotic. Too emotional. Too many tears. Too much anger.

So, yeah, he loved homicide. His victims never gave him problems.

She closed the door and gave him a weak smile.

“Willow, your alibi? Where is she?”

Her smile wavered.

Great. She was lying to him. There was no Willow. Which meant she didn’t have a solid alibi. For some odd reason, it bugged him. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why it bugged him, but it did.

“Oh, there you are, Willow. Come say hi to Detective Walker.”

Rory followed her gaze toward the hallway near a set of stairs that led up to the second level. A black and white cat strolled closer, its tail wagging leisurely.

This was a joke.

It had to be.

He pulled his attention away from the cat, who didn’t come too close—which made him happy—and looked at Ms. Duncan.

“Where’s Willow?”

He’d give her the benefit of the doubt.

“Right here.” She waved at the cat. “Tell the nice detective I was home all night with you. You even woke me up at two am to feed your sorry butt. And you gripe at me for eating too much.”

What in the hell was she talking about? It didn’t matter. This was not how he expected this to go, and he wasn’t sure how to proceed. Odd. Considering he never faltered in his actions. They were always clear and concise. Quick to decide.

“This is a cat, Ms. Duncan.”

She nodded vigorously. “She’s a sassy one, too. I’m not too surprised she’s ignoring you. She doesn’t like many people, especially men.”

Okay. Maybe he needed to reevaluate and question his own gut. Maybe she did kill her boss. She was clearly not firing on all cylinders right now.

“Not good enough. As sorry as I am she won’t answer my question, I can’t take the word of a cat that you were home all night.”

What the hell?

What did he just say?

He should be laying into her and demanding she tell him where she really was last night. Because this situation was just too odd.

Her bottom lip started to wobble. Then she trembled and went rigid, as if forcing her emotions back. Thank God. The last thing he needed was a weeping—crazy—woman on his hands.

“Look, I was home alone all night. And yes, with my cat, Willow. I did not kill my boss, even though I hated the man.”

Her eyes bulged that she even uttered that. It made him want to chuckle. She had no filter. It was refreshing. Most people put on the best show they could with him. Lied through the teeth like he wouldn’t catch on. He always caught on.

“Why did you hate him?”

She pressed her lips together, as if that would hold back more words.

“Ms. Duncan?” he said softly, something he never did with people. But for some reason—again he didn’t know why—he felt like he needed to tread gently with her.

She shrugged. “He had grabby hands I didn’t appreciate.” She looked away, reaching down to pet her cat on the back.

Another interesting tidbit. Rory wondered how many other women Mr. Fontain might’ve had grabby hands with.

“How grabby?”

Geez. He was even speaking her odd language. What was wrong with him?

Her eyes reconnected with his. “Too…grabby. Do you want a doughnut? I have the best doughnuts.”

Then she walked away with quick steps where he had no choice but to follow.

Meow.

Rory jerked back at the sudden sound.

Meow.

Shaking his head, he walked around the cat, but stopped and looked back it. He refused to believe the cat was actually talking to him.

“I don’t speak cat. Keep your distance.”

But he also wouldn’t be threatened by a cat.

♥♥♥

If you’d like to start the story at the beginning, you can find the other scenes here:
Scene 1

The Wrong Brother is Live!

-ˋˏ ༻ N O W L I V E + G I V E A W ♡ Y ༺ ˎˊ-



THE WRONG BROTHER - a perfect for you novel
Filled with humor, angst, strong friendship, and lots of romance!

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BLURB

Objective: Get hired as a temporary secr etary and find out if Champ Holloway is a dirty, cheating scumbag.
Time Frame: One week.

Gabby would do anything for her best friend, Mia. Anything. That’s what besties are for, right? But going undercover at her boyfriend’s work to find out if he’s cheating seems a bit extreme. Except she can’t say no. Never to Mia. The moment she walks in and sees her boyfriend, she knows she made a mistake. He’s sex on a stick, and she wants to take a delicious bite. He’s also a bit too arrogant, needs to work on his pleases and thank yous, and he never smiles. Everyone should smile at least once a day. It’s one long week of a battle of wills, sinful glances, and keeping her hands to herself. All she can do is repeat Mia. Mia. Mia. This is all for Mia. Until she realizes…there are two Mr. Holloways. And she got hired by the wrong one.

EXCERPT
 
Maybe she should’ve said something to his sweet comment. It’s not like a guy never said she was beautiful before.
But it was the first time she believed it. How did one respond to that? A simple thank you didn’t seem enough. Not to mention awkward. Did she say he was handsome back? He was, but that also felt awkward.
“Gabriella, can I get up?”
“You don’t like where you are?” she asked with a teasing grin. But the panic was setting in. He wanted to pull away from her already. She should’ve responded to his comment.
He kissed her again. “I want to toss this condom away, grab us some beers, and have round two—slower this time. I want to love your body as slowly as I possibly can, savor every single minute. Because I like exactly where I am.”
Oh.
Wow.
This, at times, arrogant, thoughtless man, who could work her until her feet wanted to fall off, could also be the sweetest, kindest man she had ever met. Every time he said such wonderful words, it broke a part of the impenetrable wall she had built a long time ago to keep from getting hurt.
Because keeping people outside of the wall was always easier than letting them in.
This wonderful man was creeping his way inside her walls.
She bit her lip as a smile appeared. “I like exactly where you are, too.”
(Copyright © 2020 Amanda Siegrist)

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Two. More. Days!

"I love the dynamic between Gabby and Dane. The witty banter, the highs and lows of their relationship were very relatable and I couldn't put their story down." ~ Sweet Treats Book Blog ★★★★★

"I absolutely loved the change in atmosphere as the book progressed. It was really more like real life than many would care to admit because it's all fun until the angst and insecurity starts, right? Amanda Siegrist is the Happy Ending Queen and once again, she pulls off another heart-fluttering, fun romance with her signature flair." ~ Tome Tender Book Blog ★★★★★

Filled with humor, angst, strong friendship, and lots of romance!

💋 Preorder your copy here ➸ https://books2read.com/TheWrongBrother

💋 Add it to your TBR list ➸ https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/5...

Flash Fiction Friday!

Happy Friday, lovelies! I decided to start a new storyline! I thought I'd add a sassy cat in this one because that's always fun! lol Enjoy this week's prompt!



Writing Prompt ~ Run! (Provided by Doreen) Scene #1

“You know what, don’t look at me that way.” She cocked a brow. “You’re so damn judgmental.”
Brooke grabbed another mini powdered doughnut, chomping with emphasis as she stared at her annoying cat, Willow. She was a beautiful black and white tuxedo cat, but with so much sassiness, she thought she ruled the house. Which wasn’t too far off when Brooke really thought about it.
She wanted to be fed? Meowed and meowed until Brooke stopped whatever she was doing—sleep included—to stop the incessant noise.
She insisted on being petted? Nudged her furry face into her hands until Brooke gave her soft, little rubs under her neck. Her favorite spot.
Snack time? Yep. More meowing until she got her way.
Willow ruled the house, and Brooke honestly wouldn’t change a thing. Because when she needed comfort, Willow was there. When she needed company, Willow to the rescue. When she needed to vent about her tyrant boss—asshole with grabby hands—Willow always gave the best disgusting looks like she couldn’t believe the nerve the jackass had.
She could always count on Willow to be there for her. Reliable and steady.
Something she couldn’t say about anyone else in her life. How sad.
Hell, she could even rely on Willow to judge her as she ate another doughnut—number five to be exact. She was supposed to be on a diet. Something she tried every other month and always failed. No matter how many times Willow glared at her with her beady, green eyes, she always grabbed one more handful of whatever snack she caved in and bought.
What could she say? She loved food. Food loved her.
Meow.
Brooke rolled her eyes, and snatched her hand away from the bag of doughnuts. “Fine. I’ll stop. Quit with your hollering.”
Meow.
Then her tail flowed back and forth as she turned around and walked away. Of course with her head held high as if she were showing off her crown.
Brooke eyed the bag, then huffed with annoyance and walked away herself. She should’ve never bought the bag in the first place because she could devour a bag in one day all on her own. But it had been so tempting when she stopped at the store last night after work for milk, bread, and eggs. And after shoving her boss away from another latest attempt of getting in her pants, she had wanted to drown her sorrows in something. Since she didn’t drink—all alcohol just tasted nasty to her—she chose junk food as her poor-pity-me comfort food.
Honestly, she should just go to human resources about his behavior. But she couldn’t afford to lose her job, and he had overtly threatened firing her on numerous occasions.
The bastard.
She needed more of a backbone. She needed to stand up for herself.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow would be the day she’d go to human resources and file an official complaint against him.
Today she planned to eat a few more doughnuts—hey, she couldn’t let it go to waste—and enjoy her hooky day. She had called in sick, needing a day to herself. To get her emotions back in place—and to avoid her boss for at least one day.
Life was just exhausting lately.
Heading to her room to change into shorts, she saw Willow sitting on the bed, eyeing her with her judgy eyes still.
Waving her shorts in front of her, she laughed. “See. Going for a run, just like I said I would. Stop getting on my case about it.”
Willow circled once on the bed, then laid down completely, stretching out her body in a languid move.
“You just have to rub it in. When I’m done running, I’m going to curl up under the blankets and take a nap, too. So there.”
She changed, put on her running shoes, ruffled Willow’s head, who pushed into her hand looking for more, then walked out of the room with a happy smile.
She could always count on Willow to brighten her mood, even with her sassy attitude and demanding ways.
Locking the door on her way out, she jogged in place on her porch, trying to get herself in the mood. She wasn’t a huge fan of running, but she also didn’t like going to the gym. Too many people. Too many eyes on her. No, thanks.
“You got this, Brooke. You can do it.”
Yeah, she talked to herself too much. She should really stop that.
“Run!”
But today wouldn’t be the day she did. With her pep talk done, she jaunted off the porch and headed toward her same route she always did. A quick run around the block. A simple circle. It took her about fifteen minutes to do the whole thing, and she was always sweating and breathing heavily at the end. But, it always made her feel more energized. Running sucked in the moment, but it was always worth it in the end.
She cleared her head of all negative thoughts as she ran. Just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. By the time she turned the last corner and headed back toward her house, she was nearly out of breath and dripping with sweat. As usual.
As she neared her driveway, she slowed down, eyeing the unknown vehicle parked and the man standing by it.
He was dressed in a gray suit, his tie loose around his neck. Classic black hair, a bit longer in the front. A day’s growth bread, maybe a few days, filled his cheeks, although she could see the sharp jawline. One she’d describe as kissable. Not that she daydreamed about guys’ kissable jawlines.
What an odd thought.
He wore sunglasses that shielded his eyes, which bothered her for some reason. She wanted to see his eyes. Because by the fierce frown on his face, this wouldn’t be a happy visit.
She stopped in front of him, breathing heavily, suddenly embarrassed by her appearance. Sweat dripping down her face. Glistened chest. Probably didn’t smell too pleasant either.
“Can I help you?”
“You don’t appear sick.”
Odd thing to say.
“I’m sorry?”
The man removed his glasses, his green eyes piercing her with a look that made her want to drop to her knees in pain. Cat-like eyes that held a world of judgement, just like Willow.
“You called out of work today. You don’t appear sick.”
Wow. Her boss was—Ugh! She couldn’t even find the right word for that asshole. But enough was enough. She refused to let the jackass get his way constantly. Control her life and think he was untouchable.
Her eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”
His hand went to his jacket where he pulled it away from his chest—super muscular if she had to guess—and flashed a badge clipped to his pants and a gun close by it.
“Detective Rory Walker. Your boss was found murdered this morning. Where were you between the hours of midnight and three am?”
Her jaw dropped, and her entire body nearly dropped to the ground. But she managed to hold herself together and stay upright. She could feel her heart pounding, but this time not from the run she just endured.
“Home.”
“Can anyone verify that?”
Her asshole boss…dead.
She couldn’t believe it.
“Ms. Duncan? I asked you a question.”
Ugh. From one asshole to the next. All men were the same. And this man seemed very suspicious of her. Like she had killed her boss. How ridiculous. She barely escaped his clutches last night in his office.
“Yes. I was home all night with Willow.”
Oops. Wrong thing to say. Willow was her cat. Not exactly the best witness to verify her alibi. But it was true. She was at home all night with Willow.
“I’ll need to speak to her.”
But it had been a helluva day yesterday and today obviously wasn’t going to go much better. Small laughter slipped out before she could stop herself.
“Sure. Follow me. She’s inside the house.”
Then she walked away toward her front door, knowing exactly the kind of greeting Willow would give Detective Walker. Hisses and claws galore. The same kind of greeting she gave to everyone. She wasn’t a huge people person, especially with men.
(COPYRIGHT © 2020 AMANDA SIEGRIST)

Five. More. Days!

He confused her. Excited her—made her ache for things she didn’t know she ached for. He also scared her.

FIVE. MORE. DAYS.

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The Wrong Brother