Category Archives: Bekah Beth’s Best Of

#1 Most Viewed Fiction: Threesome (99 words)

This is easily the best night of my life. They are friends. They both think I’m attractive. They are sober at the moment. They are asking me if I’m busy tonight because they would like to hang out and get wasted in their hotel room. They have informed me of the color of their underwear and asked me to guess who is wearing what.  They are saying that this has been a lot of fun, and maybe we could make this a more regular thing if that’s okay with me.

This is easily the best night of my life.

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Posted by on March 24, 2017 in Bekah Beth's Best Of


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#2 Most Viewed Fiction: Beauty (105 words)

“God, it’s beautiful,” Amelia sighed, looking out over the railing of the dock at the bay spread out in front of them.

“I suppose,” Luke shrugged, “When you grow up near it, it doesn’t seem as impressive.”

“Oh come on.”  Amelia put an arm around Luke and made him stand up at the railing with her.  “Don’t become desensitized to beauty.  That way leads to a sad and miserable life.”

Luke laughed, letting himself be pulled forward easily.  “I guess it is pretty nice.” He leaned against the railing.  “The sunset is quite amazing.”

“That’s the spirit,” Amelia laughed, “Not too hard, was it?”

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Posted by on March 23, 2017 in Bekah Beth's Best Of


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#3 Most Viewed Fiction: Storms Coming (197 words)

The first crack of thunder set everything into motion.  No matter where they were, Nathan and his son jumped into motion. Storms required work.

Nathan went outside to square away the yard. The shed had to be locked up. The pool had to be covered.  The cloth canopy had to be rolled back in so that it didn’t get soaked and mildew.

Alexander handled the inside of the house. Windows and doors had to be fastened and locked.  The dog had to be wrapped up in his special thunder blanket so that he didn’t whimper all the way through the storm. The grate had to be closed in the fireplace to help prevent it from raining into the house.

Whoever finished first (which often depended on what time of year it was) headed to the kitchen and put on the kettle.  After cookies were pulled out of the pantry and hot chocolate was poured into mugs, they both headed up to the converted attic, the only room in the house that had windows looking out in every direction. After that, nothing happened for however long the storm raged.    It was the best way to ride out a storm.


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Posted by on March 22, 2017 in Bekah Beth's Best Of


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#4 Most Viewed Fiction: Legal Theft: Legends (206 words)

“The story says that she was created by a smile from the Gods upon her mother. She was born without pain to her mother, and because of that she was blessed to lead a strong and powerful life.” Jasmine added some mystical finger wagging to add some weight to the legend.

“And you believe that?” Gretchen asked, wide eyed.

Jasmine let her hands fall to her side and scoffed.  “No. She was created because her mother was a randy woman with old fashioned ideas of how to prevent a pregnancy.  If she was born without pain to her mother, it’s because her mother was drugged up at the time of her birth.  I knew that family too well to believe any of that nonsense. She’s a strong warrior, yes, and she’s worked very hard to get where she is now.  But she’s not magical. And she shouldn’t be a legend.”

Gretchen narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “Jazzy, you are just determined to suck all the magic and the wonder out of everything, aren’t you?”

Jasmine shrugged and turned back to the papers she had been reading earlier.  “Show me something deserving of magic and wonder, and we can discuss it then.”


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Posted by on March 21, 2017 in Bekah Beth's Best Of


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#5 Most Viewed Fiction: And What Brings You Here? (570 words)

I was always grateful to Micah for being the big brother I never had. I mean, I did have older half-sisters on either side of my families, and Micah was technically my cousin–But he had something that neither of my sisters did. He had something special that I needed when I was growing up, that my sisters couldn’t quite pull off.  My Mom said it was an attitude. My Dad, Micah’s uncle, said it was regrets.  But I just called it “The Micah Factor.” He got through to me in a way that a lot of people couldn’t, but I wasn’t sure why.

He was my best friend. I know that sounds weird, but he was. When good things happened—Well, I called my mom first because she was my mom and I’d never hear the end of it if I called someone before her. But after my mom had been debriefed, I called Micah. He was always excited for me or angry on my behalf, depending on what the situation called for.  Lizzie, my half-sister on my mom’s side, would get so angry when she learned something new about my life, only to then find out that Micah had known for weeks (sometimes months).

So—it was really hard to watch him get sick.  It changed him—messed with his mind and turned him into someone I didn’t know. And there were days that we went in to see him, and he didn’t know us either. To see a man who once knew everything about you—to have him look at you and extend a hand and introduce himself like you’d never met—that was hard.

He did know us, though. When we told him who we were he recognized the names, and you could watch him struggle to get to the memories and understanding that he had with us. I think that was worse than him not knowing us at all. I mean, I know it would hurt for him to not know me, but watching him struggle—I don’t know. Maybe if it were the other way, I would wish it were this way. The grass is always greener and all that nonsense.

Relief is the wrong word. But—release maybe? I don’t know. But I definitely felt something—happier than I thought I should have when I heard that he’d passed.  This was my best friend, my cousin, the closest thing I’d ever had to a brother. And I felt lighter at the news that he was gone. That can’t be right, can it?  I mean—I was heartbroken, don’t get me wrong. I cried for days straight. Even now, something will catch me off guard and I’ll want to call him and it kills me to know I can’t.

But I’m glad—and I know it sounds terrible—but I am glad I don’t have to walk into that hospital room anymore and watch him try to associate me with the girl he knows in his head and watch the two of them not line up. I’m glad I don’t have to watch my Dad’s face fall every time we leave, his heart shattering again. And I know I shouldn’t be because Micah is dead and I should not be glad.

So, I guess, to answer your question, I’m here because Micah died, and something in me broke. And I’ve realized that I cannot fix it alone.


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BEST OF: Getting Ready (263 words)

Originally Posted: January 19, 2016

“Alfie, don’t,” She laughed, playfully swatting at him, and smiling at their reflections in the mirror over the dresser.  “If you start that then I’ll stop getting ready—and if I stop getting ready then we will never get to your sister’s rehearsal dinner.”

“Well, if I remember correctly, my sister didn’t come to our rehearsal dinner because she was feeling up one of the waiters in a closet somewhere,” Alfie grinned, dipping his head to the bend between her neck and shoulder, kissing her gently.  “I say she’s lucky if we show up at all.”

“Alfred Hanes, you are the older brother, and thirty-one years old.  You cannot use your then twenty-one-year-old sister’s actions as a life plan.”

“Aw, but I wanted to.”  Alife groaned, setting his chin down on his wife’s bare shoulder.

“You just don’t want to talk to your Uncle Andrew.”  Their eyes met in the mirror, and Alfie knew better than to try to deny it.

“Can’t it be both that I don’t want to talk to Uncle Andrew and I really want to have sex with my lovely wife?”

She rolled her eyes at that.  “Of course it can. But we still need to go to your sister’s rehearsal.”  She patted him lovingly on the head. “Go get your tie.  If you behave—I’ll get sick an hour early, and you can rush me home like the loving husband you are.” She raised an eyebrow at his reflection suggestively.

Alfie smiled in the mirror and perked up a little.  “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

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Posted by on April 8, 2016 in Bekah Beth's Best Of


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BEST OF: Simple Request (278 words)

Originally Posted: November 12, 2015

He was supposed to be my brother, you know.  We shared a womb and I’ve never known a life without him.  I was hoping he’d be my best friend forever.  I think everyone was expecting him to be.  Clearly, he wasn’t.

It took me a very long time to admit that he wasn’t just—you know—strange.  Finally, I had to admit to myself that he was properly evil.  I didn’t want to admit that I knew the truth…that he had killed, that he would kill again.  It took me too long to admit that he had to be stopped.

And even still, I can’t do it.  I can help them, I can give them information and point them in the right direction—but I can’t face my brother myself.  It’s too hard to look him in the eye and think that I should kill him—that he should die.  Because my heart still wants him to live.  My heart still wants me to figure out what’s wrong and fix him, to make him right again.

But my head knows that isn’t possible.  There is no fixing him—there is no redemption for the things that he’s done.  He needs to die.  I know that. I accept that.  I have to come to terms with the inevitability of that.  I will help in any way I can to make that become a reality.

But I can’t be the one to pull the trigger.  I know that’s a weakness, but I’m not willing to overcome it.  I can’t be the one to kill my brother. And I don’t think that is too much to ask.

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Posted by on April 7, 2016 in Bekah Beth's Best Of


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