This on-going collection of stories has been and are being written in my current home on the Côte d’Azur.
Many of the tales are based in and around the town I call Medville, others are situated in Scotland, and the remainder take place in less exceptional parts of this and other worlds.
Mysterious and enigmatic, served with a splash of humour, nothing here is ever quite what it seems.
Expect the unexpected.
There is always a twist in the tail.
Nearly.
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here.
Click here to hear the author read his words:
Negligence
I see them, heads close, giggling, looking into the lingerie shop.
Terry, my fiancé, and Julie, my best friend, my soul sister.
I head back to our shared apartment, our girl cave, and search for the rat poison.
I want revenge.
Minutes later I realise I’m overreacting, we’ve been discussing my forthcoming wedding – and honeymoon – as women do.
She’ll be helping him choose something sexy for my birthday next week.
I start to laugh at my foolishness, knowing I can trust both of them with my life.
Crisis over.
But how will I explain to Jules about her dead dog?
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here.
Click here to hear the author read his words:
Limpy and Blind
Neither could be described as attractive, both looking as though in need of a closer acquaintanceship with soap and water.
Known locally, perhaps rather unkindly, as Limpy, with her walking-frame, and Blind, with his dark glasses and white stick, they were always together, often drinking coffee outside the boulangerie.
Until one day she was alone and, when asked, spat ‘We’re through.’
Being seriously deficient in any social graces, he was generally considered no loss.
Then, for the first time, red-eyed, broken, sobbing, she spoke to me.
‘I love him. I thought it was forever.’
I had no words of comfort.
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here.
Click here to hear the author read his words:
Shadows
Lingering in the shadows.
That’s where I feel most comfortable.
No, safer, I think I mean.
I find bright lights disconcerting.
They make me feel exposed, naked, vulnerable.
Funny thing is, I don’t have much to hide.
I’m not a bad person, although I admit to the occasional dark thought.
And, although thoughts aren’t a crime, at least not yet, I never share them.
Or my reminiscences.
My past is my past, of no concern to anyone else.
If I do choose to stumble through memories, it’s when I’m alone.
I’m a private person.
With memories lingering in the shadows.
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here.
Click here to hear the author read his words:
The Light
I lie awake in the dead of night, eyes closed, listening to the sound of nothing.
I’m at peace.
Then, behind my eyelids, I see, far in the distance, a bright light.
The light at the end of the tunnel, I consider briefly, before, in a moment of panic, forcing my eyes open.
I’m suddenly aware that it was another, very different light, the one that heralds the end of life.
I’ve never felt that I’m afraid of death, but I believe that I haven’t yet finished the things I want to achieve here.
I sigh.
I’ll soon be ready.
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here.
Click here to hear the author read his words:
Birthday
Sometimes life can be confusing.
You waken, restless, your sleep was unusually disturbed.
You realise that today is a birthday, one you’ll never forget.
The birthday of one of only three people in the world you love unconditionally.
The one who, for reasons you don’t fully understand, no longer speaks to you.
All three live in different countries, different worlds from you.
You ponder your life.
Regrets?
Unlike Piaf, some.
Guilt?
Hmm…
You sit in the warm morning sunshine on your balcony, gazing out over the Mediterranean.
Your eyes drift to your phone.
You consider the time difference.
Oh well…
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here.
Click here to hear the author read his words:
The Artist
When she paints, she creates colours unidentifiable by any eye, colours that cause Mother Nature to smile in envious appreciation.
When she paints, she brings to life the magical dreams that dance in the ensorcelled world within her soul.
When she paints grass, there is the scent of springtime, of dandelions and buttercups, the steady drone of bees and a distinct sensation of the fluttering of butterfly wings.
When she paints water, fish flash through bubbles exploding over rocks and the great white stag stoops his antlered head to drink.
Now she’s painting a graveyard, and the earth is restless…
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here.
Click here to hear the author read his words:
seabird
isn’t it strange
how life can change
in an instant
when you realise
everything you wanted
everything you hoped for
everything you dreamed of
and worse
everything you had
is lost…
we are swimming
no
floating
lazily on our backs
in the gentle Mediterranean
just off the beach at Bonporteau
a calanque
or rocky cove
talking
laughing
happy
I think
until…
nothing tangible
not even a word
just a hint
a suspicion…
and then
as the doubt
slithers in
I see
on the cliff face
the fleeting shadow
of a swooping gull…
and I understand
* * *
You can find details of my new book here:
https://ceayr.com/2026/04/07/this-time-its-tartan-noir/
Click here to hear the author read the opening few lines:
This time it’s Tartan Noir!
C. E. Ayr, writing in his inimitable dynamic and incisive style, presents The Divorce Lawyer, a cynical, darkly humorous mystery thriller in the best traditions of Tartan Noir.
Following are some comments from Beta Readers, most of whom are Members of the Association for Scottish Literature:
* immensely enjoyable read…
* a confident, morally complex crime thriller driven by a distinctive narrative voice…
* darkly comic…
* intriguing story, characters and plot twists…
* terrific page turner, good addition to the genre…
* authentic Scottish phrasing…
* I laughed out loud…
And finally:
* Corruption, violence, loyalty, revenge, and moral ambiguity are not side themes. They are
the spine of the story.
The Divorce Lawyer is a new direction for C. E. Ayr, author of the acclaimed Sensei & Vidock series.
It tells a tale of love and violence, loyalty and revenge, corruption and conflict – and let’s not forget the deaths – set mainly in Ayrshire and Glasgow.
The Divorce Lawyer is available here:
UK:
https://bit.ly/4mbAKFR
Elsewhere (amazon.com):
bit.ly/4skiOKl
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here.
Click here to hear the author read his words:
Box
‘What’s in the box?’
She barely lifts her head.
‘What box?’
‘On the wardrobe.’
‘Nothing.’
‘Okay, I’ll toss it.’
‘Leave it.’
‘An empty box? Why?’
‘It’s not doing anything.’
‘Then what’s the point?’
Now she looks at me.
‘Are you after an argument?’
‘What? No! I just wondered…’
‘Don’t. It doesn’t suit you.’
‘I was going to put this suitcase up there.’
No answer.
‘But there’s no room unless…’
‘Just leave the suitcase.’
‘It takes up a lot of space…’
‘Not for long.’
She pulls clothes from the wardrobe, rams them into the case.
‘I’ll take the box too,’ she says.
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here.
Click here to hear the author read his words:
spider gone
Susie is a little spider who
made her home in a secluded corner
of my smallest room
after spending August in Scotland
(I am too cantankerous to willingly suffer the excess of heat and tourists here)
I was amazed and dismayed
to find
she had multiplied her size tenfold
or more probably been replaced
I jettisoned this intruder
humanely and
against all expectations
Susie returned the following day
perhaps wondering at the sudden disappearance
of her mother
but now she has gone again
with no explanation
no word or sign
in much the same way
as you did
my love
