This story is my contribution for “A Candle for the Caribbean“ - Charity anthology benefiting the victims of Hurricane Maria. Thanks to Team @loveinpanem for organizing this important initiative.
I especially would like to thank @titaniasfics for tolerating my loose definition of Deadline.
Here on AO3
Teen boys can be pretty dumb, especially when they want to be cool. One stupid statement that she overheard was enough to destroy everything. Years later they meet again. She's unforgiving. And so out of his league. But a man in love can always hope...
To promote @loveinpanem‘s A Candle for the Caribbean charity drive aimed to help those who suffered from the hurricanes in the Caribbean islands, I’m posting a Six Sentence Sunday for the story I’m contributing, Cosa Nostra. It’s a 1950′s historical AU set in mob-run Las Vegas, in which Katniss is a singer for The Mockingjay Hotel and Casino, and Peeta is an accountant plant for the FBI, looking to catch the owners of the hotel for any crimes. Trouble arises when these two fall for each other. Thanks to @gentlemama for editing/beta work, and of course to @beanfromdistrict7 for helping devise the concept, and @bigbigbigday006 for pre-reading and bouncing ideas off of.
Today I’m also debuting the amazing banner that @akai-echo created for the story!
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“Wait! I didn’t mean to insult you. I promise. Please come back,” he pleads. I don’t know why, but I stop, right at the base of the ladder. But I don’t turn back. “I was just teasing you,” he continues.
I spin around and glare at him. “You don’t know me well enough to tease me,” I spit.
He looks taken aback as he thinks this over. Then he swims over so that he’s directly in front of me, a mere matter of inches away from my body. Why is he so close?
“You’re right,” he says. “I’m sorry. I guess I couldn’t help myself.”
Our eyes lock. A million responses must run through my mind, but not a single one comes out. Instead, I engage in this silent impasse as we each size the other up, working something out, but I don’t know what it is. But now that he’s right in front of me, I realize how tall he is, how broad his shoulders are. He’s so close that even in the darkness, I can see the blond hair on his chest that reflects off the light coming from inside the hotel. I realize my back is pressed solidly against the ladder; my breath is hitched in my throat. Something about him terrifies me, yet I know I’m not in any danger.
“Good night,” I mutter curtly, then turn and climb swiftly out of the pool.
If you've not yet heard, the amazing ladies at @loveinpanem are organizing a charity anthology to benefit the areas hit hard by Hurricane Maria. If you are able, any and all donations are welcome. In exchange, you'll have access to plenty of wonderful fanfic. This year alone, I've been in the paths of Hurricane Harvey and Hurricane Nate. I'm fortunate enough that all I had deal with is a lot of wind and rain, and a few tornado warnings. Even that was terrifying. It is a tragedy that others are still dealing with no power or access to water or decent medical care, to say nothing of the years it will take to rebuild. Whatever you can contribute will be so welcome!
Here's a small preview of what I plan on contributing to the anthology
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Let's Hurt Tonight:
So many friends in these pages, she thinks fondly as she flips between Madge and one of Peeta’s friends from town. Running a palm over Finnick’s face, despair threatens to sink her below the depths. It’s only when Peeta’s hand covers hers that she realizes she’s frozen in place.
“Here,” he murmurs and she moves her hand so he can place the picture of Finnick’s son on the already crammed full page. He shifts it to another spot when it covers some of the words in his first choice. But the second choice is just as bad. Katniss snorts and then they’re both laughing.
“Let’s just make a new page,” Katniss suggests when they manage to stop. “We’ll put him right behind Finnick.”
It becomes a pattern. More infant faces join the pages of the book, a story of living life. Growing again in the face of devastation. They're not the only ones searching for ways to make life good again.
This is from my story for A Candle For The Caribbean charity anthology.
I'm finished with it, and already sent it to betaing. So therefore this couple of sentences are totally in their "raw form" and all mistakes are mine.
Title is still up to change, it gives me a headache thinking of something, seriously.
Please, if you want to read some wonderful stories from different fandoms, even a couple original works, and at the same time support a good cause, please consider to donate! All details about the charity can be found on @loveinpanem's blog.
Okay, that's it. Hope you like the very short sneak-peek. Hugs & Kisses!
Katniss first discovered Mellark's Bakery & Bistro when Prim suggested to grab lunch there. The Everdeen Sisters grew up knowing about Ronan Mellark's bakery on Merchant Street corner First, but Katniss didn't know that the youngest son expanded it. She instantly fell in love with the cheese buns and the Penne al salmone.
And with it's owner.
It's ridiculous, really. Katniss is happy with her life and this stupid crush she has on Peeta doesn't fit into it. Also because it's very one-sided. If she hadn't known it before tonight, his very blond, very pretty date would've made that point clear.
Here’s the start of a fic i’m writing for @loveinpanem‘s A Candle For the Carribbean.
Unbetaed, and subject to change.
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Peeta was exhausted.
Or rather, he was beyond exhaustion.
He wished he could find solace in the landscape in front of him. The endless blue of the sea, marked here and there with little flakes of white, meeting the sky, in a never ending palette of blues. It would be breathtaking if he could take his mind of the disaster they had created.
That wasn’t a reason enough to stop, though. There were still countless persons to find and help, tons of rubble to clean, so many things to do in so little time.
Hopefully there were still persons they could save too.
He swiped the sweat from his forehead, before securing his security helmet back on, grabbing a sip of water from his bottle, then turned back.
Instead of rows of white buildings covered with pink tiles were now broken stones, torn windows frames, fallen trees, crashed cars. Everywhere, despair, sadness, mixed in the remnants of the island.
Here’s a little preview for @loveinpanem ‘s A Candle for the Caribbean: A Charity Anthology - If you want to donate to get in on this amazing effort, check this out!
She was exhausted. Mentally. Physically.
She’d been in Haiti for little over a week but had barely slept - the shelter was too crowded and there were so many people to help that she didn’t see the point in trying to sleep.
But now she knew she had to try or else someone would get hurt and she’d be the cause. Determined, she sought out the quietest space of floor in the storage closet and pulled the blanket over her head.
The dreams came for her like they always did - flickering in between recent and distant and haunting her. Regardless of whether she was in a disaster zone or home in her bed, the stench of Katrina clung to her and tinged every terrible thing her mind could recall.
It had been the defining moment of her life and one that had changed everything. Sitting atop the roof of her house with her sister and mother, knowing her father was floating somewhere down below, stuck in the floodwaters of the broken levy after trying to break through the ceiling. She remembered the smell, a day later, as the helicopters flew overhead and the water stayed high. It was the smell of rot and heat and gasoline. The boat rescued them later that day but they had to leave behind her father’s body, somewhere in the house that was under water.
Call for Betas - A Candle For The Caribbean: Charity Anthology
Looking for some volunteers to beta as stories come through. Our current betas have all been assigned. Please message @titaniasfic or send a message to @loveinpanem. Thanks!
This time, it’s up to @nancymay to pick up where @xerxia31 left the story.
Just like the other writers, @nancymay was given the very first lines of the story and @xerxia31‘s last words :
“ Finally, he shook himself free from whatever internal debate he was having, and dropped the key unceremoniously onto the table. “I know it’s a safety deposit box key,” he clarified, his voice flat, tired sounding. “I know because I found one just like it in my father’s things.” “
Want to see what happens next?
it’s under the cut...
Katniss reached out, her fingers fumbling as she tried to pick up the key. It was really a very non-descript piece of dull metal. Something that could easily be lost again, dropped down the back of a chair or forgotten at the bottom of a drawer. It could be that easy to leave all this behind.
But there was the challenge of those suspicious eyes, watching from across the table for her next move. He wasn’t going to volunteer any more of his story; not without some sort of a fight. “Suits me,” she muttered and pushed back her chair. Swinging her mane of dark hair over one shoulder, she reached back to untie the leather cord that always stayed around her neck. Briskly, she pulled the locket out from her shirt, pretending not to care what he thought about her still wearing it, and threaded on the key so they clinked together.
She raised her eyes to his defiantly. “For safe keeping.”
He still wouldn’t speak to her. He had said too much already.
“I suppose a visit to the bank is called for then,” she sighed, her energy sapped by his resistance. “Will you walk with me at least...Please?”
It was her pleading that broke his resolve.
On the way, they had to pass by the park. It had been changed, fewer trees and more play equipment. Less places to hide. “Remember how we….” kept starting in her head, but there was no point in that. She was sick of it; this whole day and the way things were between them. She kicked at the gravel, dragged back to a much younger version of herself. “Fuck it,” she thought, there was nothing to lose anyway. “I’ll race you!” she picked up her speed a little turning to see his puzzled expression.
“First one to the swing is the winner!”
He shook his head, but couldn’t help a small smile from sneaking out.
“Scared I’ll beat you?” she taunted and jogged in place, before setting off.
“Fuck it all,” she thought and let herself run. Her boots were heavy but she pounded down the path, pumping her arms, the locket and key hitting her chest with each stride.
Blind to the looks of joggers, she sprinted past them helter skelter, focused only on her own race. She could practically hear young Katniss, laughing at her breathlessness and how weak she had grown. Approaching the swing set, all she could see was a blur of red through either her sweat or tears. She seriously wondered if she had started to lose her mind, as well as everything else that had been taken from her. Until he passed her, his familiar lolloping gait rousing her spirit. No way was he going to beat her now. She gave a last spurt, brushing his shoulder as she made it past him to the prize. First to sit on the swing.
He fell down on the grass at her feet, hands thrown back over his head, chest heaving, and peered out from under his arms. Of course she had beaten him. He sat up and rubbed his damp hands through his hair, realising he was glad that hadn’t changed.
“You always have to win don’t you Everdeen.”
“If you think I’ve won, then tell me,” she gasped, still barely able to speak. “What did you find in your father’s deposit box?”
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Next entry will be the doing of @titaniasfics ... Stay tuned :)
