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Thursday, January 15, 2015

Deadtime Stories: The Rejection by D.M. Kilgore

From the personal files of Author D.M. Kilgore!
Deadtime Stories
from D.M. Kilgore's Personal Files


Thriller Thursday  


The Realm!

 Late Night Edition.

Dear Bloody Diary... Thriller Thursday Night- Deadtime Stories by D.M. Kilgore: The Rejection!


January 15, 2015
Thriller Thursday

Ah... tunes and some chai tea! Let's WRITE!
Writing.. Writing... Writing...
D.M. Kilgore - Writer Cam -
It  was a thrilling day at The Realm. I've been working on a short story that's due... like now. I have a criminology essay to finish by midnight. It's snowing and COLD here. Yep, a thrilling chilling kind of day for this writer.

But tonight, I wonder...

 How can I thrill you?


Maybe a little bedtime story from my private collection.

The Rejection

by:  D.M. Kilgore

       Jo stepped out of the dark elevator, thankful to be free from the trendy music pumping from the hidden speakers. Her relief was short-lived. Sunlight poured through a large window highlighting décor--meant to be modern, cool, and hip--that looked like Dr. Seuss had puked all over the hallway. Jo tucked a brunette strand back into her bun and adjusted her glasses. Hoping like hell Classic Retro Regurgitation ended at the door to her room, she rounded the corner and ran straight into a man. As he turned, she gasped.
        "Molly!" He pulled her into an enthusiastic hug. "How was your trip?"
        Caught off guard she mumbled something that sounded kind of like, "Good." Any attempt to regain her composure was lost the moment she glanced into his eyes. They were the most amazing shade of malachite green flecked with gold. “Just fine,” she whispered.
        "I was heading to grab coffee,” he explained re-opening the door to his room. “It can wait though.”
        "Mmm. I could go for a mocha latte." Jo followed him into room 405.
        "Great! Coffee first then. Do you need to freshen up or anything?" He let the question hang between them.
        "I did plan to slip into something more--” she considered the king-sized bed with its disturbing cow-print coverlet “--comfortable.” Jo took two steps towards Rob.
        He shrugged before glancing at the toes of his well-worn red Converse hi-tops. "What if I go grab coffee while you get comfortable then? Save us some time."
        "In a hurry?"
        "Yeah. I can't wait to see how it ends."
        "I hope I don't disappoint." She turned slowly to examine the rest of the room. Not Suess, but disturbing none the less. A mirror over the dresser caught Rob in the act of looking her over from head to toe. Jo smiled. 
        "Molly Sellers disappoint? Doubtful.” Pink washed across his neck and square jaw when he realized she was watching his inspection.
        "You never know." Jo lowered her eyes, reminding herself that Molly Sellers would never be so openly flirtatious.
        "So far so good." He backed out the door with an eager smile on his face.
        Jo liked his dimples and his dark mop of curls. He was younger than the other editors she’d worked with. He was also much cuter in person than in his Facebook picture. What a shame. Jo rested her ear against the crack of the door listening for the ding of the elevator before closing it completely. She stepped into the tacky orange and blue tiled bathroom to change from bookish Molly Sellers to a woman Robert Hansen had never met.
        Tugging off the boring wig, Jo shook out her long auburn waves, tossed the costume glasses aside, and removed the chocolate-brown contacts she’d bought to hide her unusual hydrangea-blue eyes. Kicking off the sensible pumps and unzipping the modest suit, Jo sighed with relief. She wiggled her toes with delight as the stifling pantsuit crumpled at her feet. Molly Sellers wouldn’t know sexy if it bit her on the ass. Jo coated her lashes with onyx mascara and her lips in a shade of red that was every bit as sinful as her Victoria's Secret lingerie.
        Transformation complete, Josephine Reynolds pulled the final chapter of her manuscript The Rejection Letter from her bag, pressed her lips to the last page, and placed it on the bed. She couldn't wait to show Rob how it ended.
        Smiling wickedly, she slipped the same knife she’d used on the real Molly Sellers under the pillow.
        This was her favorite kind of research.

© 2015 D.M. Kilgore

What lurks behind a pretty face is sometimes a twisted mind...
Sweet Dreams...


I'm D.M. Kilgore, and I really do own a brush and mascara!
D.M. Kilgore

I'm D.M. Kilgore, and this is The Realm.

You'll find a daily dose of me here, every dag-um day. 


I hope you enjoyed my little story!
Be sure to let me know if you'd like to
read more DEADTIME STORIES here
on Thriller Thursdays at The Realm!



Tune in tomorrow for Funtastic Friday!


When I'm not rambling about here, you can catch my monthly series at 

Read Write Muse

The Muse's Mirror on the 11th of each month
and The Conscious Dreamer on the 27th of each month



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LaDonna Cole said...


DM Kilgore said...

*eyebrow wiggle*

Lady Draon of the Seven Seas said...

I want some more please. What happens next????

DM Kilgore said...

I've actually toyed with the idea of turning this into a full length novel. So many writers conferences Jo could attend. ;)

Katie Cross said...


This was intense! And great job on finishing your short story! So awesome. :)

DM Kilgore said...

An old idea I had when I first got to Ragged Edge. ;) I might elaborate on it more in the near future.

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