One Shot Writing Novels & Stories

I was that soft on the inside. I decided to ask him a little question of my own. “I have always wondered, how does it feel being the only one of your kind? You know, how does it feel getting that inner loneliness because there's no one to communicate your feelings with, and a whole lot of people just fear you.” He shrugged. “It is awfully lonely but I had told myself long ago that if I focused on it, I would never survive.”

The guard’s finger twitched near the trigger. Suddenly, the lights cut. Complete darkness. Just a heartbeat. And then.. A single gunshot.

They’re low on ammo, I can tell by the way they’re pacing their shots. I pick my target—a big guy barking orders, probably the leader. I aim my gun and without as much as a breath,I fire. The shot catches him in the shoulder, and he staggers, shouting. The others turn, confused, and Zero and Shadow strike, taking out two more.

If he didn’t act now, Schading might lose his shit, decide to take his wife hostage after all, and blow the head off his expendable tagalong, Cutter. With a rapid mental ticktock in his head counting down the seconds, One-Mile realigned his shot, curled his finger a little tighter around the trigger…and squeezed. The crack of his shot resounded in his ears as the rifle kicked back, but he stayed with the scope and watched the bullet plant itself dead center in the middle of Schading’s forehead. The would-be gunman crumpled to the concrete. Blood splattered onto the screaming woman behind him and pooled around his body.

After five years of hurting each other, I was finally tired of Aiden Russell. Five years ago, I finally brought down the biggest drug lord in the Walled City and avenged my father, Paul Chadwick, who had died in the line of duty. But Aiden refused to let the drug lord's daughter, Naomi Siddall, die. He even threatened to take his own life just to force me to agree. After the operation, Aiden brought Naomi back to our home. From that day on, we never stopped hurting each other. Once, I held a knife to Naomi's throat. Aiden immediately pointed his gun at me without hesitation. When I threw away Naomi's medicine, Aiden stripped me and threw me out into the freezing snow. Then one day, Naomi tim

Ray said. "They're going first," I said. "Does that change anything," Naomi said. I sat on the penalty box bench in the blue-grey quiet of the rink and thought about my father's three pages and Clara's four-second pause and the line I had typed into Amara's draft and the double axel landing clean at center ice and the question of who I was on the other side of this. "No," I said. I typed back to Amara: Publish on schedule. Let them go first. The documentation answers everything they say and it answers it in the permanent record. I paused. Then added: The first version of a story is not always the true one. The true one is what stays.

Thought of the thin mattress, the bus, the drop from the window, the kiss in daylight. All still there. Not gone. Just carried different now. Liam stepped behind him, arms around waist. “What you thinking?” Chino leaned back. “I dey think say I ready to write. Not just notes. Real story. Our story. Not to forget. To remember. To show say flame no dey have to burn everything. Sometimes e just light the way.” Liam kissed his neck. “Then write it. I go read every word.” Chino smiled into the night.

Not opportunist. That was as far as the evidence actually took me, and I made myself stop there. Not who. Not why. Just: whoever it was hadn’t been improvising. The shot had needed a vantage point scouted in advance, timing that matched a coverage gap too precisely to be luck, and a follow-through that read like drilled reflex rather than panic. Someone had planned that. I didn’t know who. I wrote the three words anyway, because a fact you don’t write down is a fact you’ll talk yourself out of later, and this one felt like it would matter — not yet, but eventually, once there was enough around it to make sense of.

She grabbed her own notepad, writing in large, clear letters: BE THERE IN 10. She held it up, watching Alex's face break into a wide, genuine smile. He nodded, pressing his palm against the glass once more before stepping away to gather his clothes. Mia let her blouse fall away, standing naked before the window one last time. Alex paused, drinking in the sight of her, the appreciation in his gaze making her feel both vulnerable and invincible. Her pussy throbbed with unfulfilled need as she headed for the shower. Tonight would be about living in the moment, consequences be damned.

I had everything to lose if I made a single mistake. Everything shifted into slow motion as the asshole's snowmobile moved closer, the assassin taking aim once again. I had one chance at this. One. I wasn't a religious man by any means, my faith having been destroyed years before, but at this point, I said a silent prayer. Blinking furiously, I took aim, trying to steady my nerves and my adrenaline. The moment I let off a single shot, I veered to the right, the snowmobile taking flight a solid fifteen feet into the air, dumping down onto the snow with a hard thud.