#ill drink my tea as you break down from the isolation and try to kill yourself. fuck you.
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anyways! rape accusations hurt marginalized men w/ no real systemic power, hope that helps!
#of course the white conservative cis man politician you hate is being promoted. hes not black and poor.#so its not negatively effecting him or how ppl perceive him as much. bc unfortunately ppl think money + popularity + power =#a more trustworthy person.#+ also agreeing with you ideologically#but when you're a poor minority of some form- losing that social net really fucking sucks ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU DIDNT#DO FUCKING SHIT WRONG#STABBING YOU IN THE EYES RN#or even worse- when the person accusing you was the one who actually did it! but it's 'believe victims' right? or is it only#'believe victims we like'#'believe victims on vibes' basically.#come live my life lil bitch and tell me how easy it is and how totally not effected by being accused of shit i am. go on ahead. ill watch.#ill drink my tea as you break down from the isolation and try to kill yourself. fuck you.#honestly eat shit and dirt together.
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In the Shadows : Nine
Summary: Jughead Jones, resident werewolf, just wants to protect his family and his pack from the incoming doom of The Red Circle. Sweet Pea and Lily join him to help keep the Southside safe from human tyranny. Meanwhile a demon princess named Myra and succubus named Lavender had a plan to bring on the apocalypse. <ao3> <masterlist> <playlist>
Rating: Mature // Explicit
Pairings: Jughead Jones x OC, Sweet Pea x OC, Kurtz x OC
Warnings: Smut, Choking, Hair pulling, Some dirty talk
Word Count: 5k+
A/N: I am SO sorry this took so long to update. I got swept up in finishing Mercy Killing and writing the first chapter of the sequel that I didn't have time to get to this as soon as I would have liked. My productivity had tanked as my depression worsens due to isolation.
Chapter Nine : Soul Bound II
The issue with the time limit that Lily put on Sweet Pea’s eviction, was that they needed to be rid of Myra before his time was up. If Lily wanted to force her ex into the demon’s home, then she would need to make it safe for him first. Myra would more than likely kill him upon realizing that he had moved in. It simply wasn’t possible to do this out of order and everyone remained uninjured.
But, unbeknownst to Lavender, Lily had already accounted for that in her timetable. Today was the fifth day after Lav had given her the book, and today was the day that she was going to free the hybrid’s soul from Myra’s grasp. All she had to do was locate the demon princess.
Naturally, she had a plan for that too. On the last full moon, she had taken samples of the vargulf’s blood from inside of Jughead’s mouth. With it she was going to use a foolproof locating spell to find his whereabouts.
The one thing she didn’t expect was the fight Jughead and Lavender would have that would result in them not speaking to one another. Lavender had killed the second in command of The Red Circle. And while his body had not been (and never would be) found, Archie had been on a rampage since Reggie's disappearance to find him. Jughead was positive that he was going to retaliate at any moment. The redhead was a ticking time bomb and Lav had essentially made him impossible to diffuse.
Lavender had a plan for that too, not that she had told Jughead any of this because, again, they were not on speaking terms. Lily had opted to leave Jughead out of this process, figuring that he would hinder them this once. All she truly needed for this particular part were Lavender and Sweet Pea.
The two witches arrived at the demon’s house and knocked on the door. They heard a distant, very ill sounding voice telling them to come in. After a quick search, Lily found her friend in the bathroom with her head laying on the toilet seat. “I think I’m dying.” Lavender said pitifully and Lily tried not to crack a smile.
“I told you, you needed to drink the tea two times a day or you wouldn’t be able to leave the bathroom floor.” Lily said, sounding more motherly than upset. “Let me go make you some, extra strength. We have work to do.”
Lavender groaned at the thought of having to leave her safe haven within the master bathroom. Lily left to go to her kitchen and fix her some of the magic tea she had made. Sweet Pea, who was feeling somewhat awkward now that he actually had a conscience again, stood off to the side. “How is she?”
“Puking her guts out.” Lily said calmly as she started heating water with the use of a simple spell. “You know, like all women do their first trimester. You better not go back there or you’ll be joining her.”
Sweet Pea made a face that was some cross between annoyance and a pout. He had been a sympathy puker since he was a kid. He had always felt like it was a curse. “Are you really making me move in here in two days?”
Lily gave him a stern look. “She’s pregnant with your child. The least you could do is help protect her from the demon trying to take the baby. It’s not like she asked for this.”
“I didn’t ask for it either.” Sweet Pea said angrily. “It’s not like I wanted another one any time soon.”
“Well, you’re getting one. So man up.” Lily said as she put in just the right amount of sugar and honey. Sweet Pea was yet to be informed that him and Lavender were soulmates. The succubus had insisted that she would tell him when the timing was right, however Lily was starting to think that that time would never come. Hopefully, forcing them to live together would make it obvious to the dark witch eventually.
Once the tea was done brewing, she took it to Lavender who was currently throwing up for the fourth time that morning. “Do you even eat food?” Lily asked curiously, “what do you have to throw up?”
“I’m half human, Lily. Of course I eat food. Or I would if it didn’t all smell so goddamn awful.” She took the tea and took a sip. After swallowing, she sighed with relief. “That hits the spot.”
Lily smiled warmly. “Two cups a day and it won’t be nearly this bad. I promise. When Sweet Pea moves in, he can make it for you.”
Lav grumbled, “does he have to?”
“His soul needs to be healed and you’re the only one that can do that, Lavender. Your soul will no doubt need it too once I get it back today. You will not understand how truly powerful sex is until you have it with him again once you do. The three of us will be unstoppable.” Lily said in a tone that Lav knew not to question. Of course she was right, and deep down Lav knew that things had to come to a head sooner rather than later.
After about fifteen minutes, the tea began to settle her stomach enough for her to stand. “Are we doing this now?”
Lily smiled, leading her into the bedroom, “yes. We’re doing it now. The sooner you get it back, the better. We’ll be that much further from the written prophecy. Do you need help getting dressed or anything?”
Lav flashed her a sly look, “you know, most people buy me a drink first before trying to get me naked.”She wiggled her eyebrows at her playfully and Lily smacked her on the arm.
“I always forget that you’re perpetually horny.” Lily said, snorting back a laugh. “Hurry up, our baby daddy is waiting on us.”
The demon groaned as she slowly got dressed in a fitted t-shirt and skinny jeans. She threw her long purple hair up into a messy bun before brushing her teeth. Once finished she rejoined the witches in the living room, purposefully avoiding Sweet Pea’s gaze. “Let’s get this over with.”
Lily had cast the spell an hour before this, knowing that the vargulf was much too sick to move. In the event that he had changed locations, she had more blood to redo the spell. Although she didn’t think that would be at all necessary. Her intuition was much sharper now that she was with Jughead. It was amazing the kind of power soulmate sex magic could give you. She wished Lavender understood that, because with the added power of the baby inside of her then she could potentially be much stronger than her captor.
Kurtz had been sleeping in a run down apartment complex on the other side of the Southside. Using her powers of seduction, Lavender was able to get the exact apartment number from the lobby attendant. She found it a little too easy to get him to submit to her will, taking any kind of fun that she may have had out of it.
Her display with the small man made Sweet Pea on edge, and he had no idea why he cared. It wasn’t as if she was actually interested in this mortal loser. When she rejoined them, smirk on her plump lips, she finally looked at him. He held her gaze and they were almost pulled together by some magnetic force of attraction. Lily walked between them, breaking the moment before someone ripped someone else’s clothes off. She had no idea how she didn’t see the connection between them before, but since Sweet Pea’s soul was back in place it was getting more and more obvious.
Lav told Lily that he was in apartment 66 and she led them to the elevator to the sixth floor. Once there they made their way down the dirty hallway to the sixth apartment. Written in red beside the second 6 was a third, so that the numbers read 666. Lily didn’t refrain from rolling her eyes.
“Your turn.” She said to Sweet Pea as motioned for them to give him some space. Both women stepped back a few paces and he easily broke down the door. Lily gave him a deadpan stare, “I meant pick the lock. You’re such a brute.”
Sweet Pea shrugged before walking into the room, “it smells like rotten asshole in here.” He said, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth and nose.
Lily and Lav looked at each other with looks of disgust. “It’s Kurtz. Try having him in your bathtub after running around in the rain. As if I already didn’t have enough excuse to vomit.” Lav said, trying to will her nausea away.
Lily shook her head as she located the broken boy laying on a near bare mattress on the floor of the only bedroom. The soulmates were a step behind her. The white witch glanced at Lav, “call her here.” She instructed.
Lav nodded and closed her eyes, saying a silent prayer to Myra to bring her in. A split second later, Myra appeared. “Wha-” She stopped upon the sight of the two witches. “What are you two doing here? Shanna, I told you that you were not to be around them anymore.”
Myra moved, as if to attack her slave on the spot, however Sweet Pea stepped in front of her. His arms were crossed and there was a murderous look upon his face. Clearly she’d have to go through him, not that he was nearly as big of an obstacle as he thought he was.
“Myra.” Lily snapped, her voice sounding commanding. “We’re here to make a deal.”
The demoness turned, looking at the small witch with contempt. “What deal would I make with a mortal?”
She motioned towards Kurtz. His unconscious body was eerily close to death. “I can heal him. I can save him. All you have to do is one thing for me in return.”
Myra’s eyes flitted between her lover and her mortal enemy. She knew the only way to heal him was through white magic. White magic with Lily possessed in abundance. Did she let Kurtz die? Or did she save him and do what the witch asked?
It was minutes before an answer came. “What do you want?” She asked through gritted teeth. Her weakness had been found and there was no way to hide it now.
Lily shrugged nonchalantly. “Give Lavender her soul and freedom back. That’s it. Do that and I’ll make him healthy and human again.”
Myra’s jaw nearly dropped at the request. Her fists clenched so hard that her sharp nails tore into the flesh of her palms, blood seeping slowly from between her fingers. “You want me to what?”
“You heard me.” Lily countered, her gaze unwavering. “Her soul and freedom for Kurtz’s health.”
“This won’t stop it.” Myra said hotly, knowing that they now possessed one of the few books with the ill fated prophecy inside. “The two of them having their souls back is not enough to stop it. I will have that child, and I will take her to hell to my father, and hell will reign supreme.”
A bored expression crossed Lily’s face. “That’s fine.” Her cool tone put the demon on edge. Was this some kind of trap? Did she know already how to stop the apocalypse? Or was she bluffing?
Myra turned once more to Kurtz, who let out a painful wheeze. “Do it. Heal him and I’ll bring it back.”
“Nuh uh.” Lily replied, shaking her head. “Soul first, healing after.”
Myra’s skin seemed to turn red with rage. Sweet Pea moved to the side as Myra approached Lavender one more time. She put two fingers onto the succubus’ pulse point, in which the pentacle was engraved. After chanting a few words, Lav felt intense waves of emotion flooding through her. She stumbled back, and she would have fallen had Sweet Pea not caught her. He held her in her arms, as Lav began to feel ice cold.
“It’s no use.” Myra said, “it’s been in the coldest, darkest parts of hell for two decades. Even soulmate magic won’t heal it.”
“We’ll see about that.” Lily said as she moved to Kurtz and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead while her palms held his cheeks. It took a fair amount of concentration and energy, but after a powerful pulse of white magic, Kurtz was devoid of the vargulf curse.
Lily released him from her grasp, standing straight and pretending not to feel faint from the mass use of her power. “This is a one time deal.” Lily said threateningly. “I won’t heal him a second time. You’d be wise not to put another curse on him.”
Myra simply glared. Sweet Pea picked up Lavender in both arms, her head lulling against his chest sleepily. Lily motioned for them to leave first, in case Myra had some kind of trick up her sleeve.
Once they were out, Lily had to rest against the wall. Sweet Pea gave her a worried look. “We should have brought Jughead.”
“Jughead is being stubborn right now. I’ll be okay, just give me a second.” Lily said as she took a few good deep breaths.
Sweet Pea looked down at the demon in his arms. “What did Myra mean by soulmate magic? I didn’t think demons had soulmates.”
Lily sighed, “they don’t. But hybrids with human souls do.” She had promised Lavender that she wouldn’t say, however the time felt right. She wasn’t sure when she’d get a chance and Lav was near unconsciousness. “Sweet Pea, there’s a reason it had to be you.” She said cryptically, hoping he’d get it.
His eyes hardened. “She’s not…” Suddenly a lot of his feelings made sense. The insane attraction, the addictiveness to the sex he had with her, and while he was very pissed off that his soulmate was a succubus of all things, it was also relieving to know that he wasn’t somehow under some kind of spell. His shoulders slumped with defeat. “Then she can fix me.” He added softly.
Lily smiled, “you can fix each other.”
When they arrived back at Sunnyside, Lily did not follow them into the house. Instead she bid them farewell and decided to go back to the cottage where Jughead was watching over Daisy. Sweet Pea had asked her repeatedly if she was alright, seeing her sway as she walked as if she were going to fall over at any minute. Lily insisted of course that she was fine and just needed rest, which she would get once she got home.
In the meantime she told him to stay with Lavender and do some healing when she wakes up, because they were both in desperate need of it. Sweet Pea, unsure how he felt about having sex with Lav after what happened last time, didn’t really want to do any of the ‘healing’ magic she was talking about. Even if this was an entirely different situation.
Lavender had fallen asleep at some point during their return. Slowly her body heat had returned to her and he was no longer worried about her possibly being hypothermic. Still she was clutched onto his denim vest rather tightly, as if he was going to up and drop her at any moment.
Once he was inside the house, he took her into the master bedroom and laid her down on the bed. As soon as he pulled away from her though, her eyes opened up lazily. “I’m cold.” She mumbled to him, almost incoherently. Sweet Pea sat down next to her, unsure of what he should do in the moment.
Lav sat up, rubbing her forehead for a moment before reaching out to touch him. She gently pushed her influence into him, making him turn and give her a confused look. “You didn’t have a soul.” She said simply, knowing what was stopping him. She had been awake enough to hear Lily’s last words to him, her kind suggestion for them to make up. “Make it up to me now.” Her voice became a whisper as she pulled her hand away.
Sweet Pea slipped off his denim vest and the flannel he had on underneath. Lav sat up and took off her shirt in one fluid motion. “Just, uh, don’t touch my chest. My boobs are really sore right now.” A light blush crossed her fair cheeks as she continued to look up at him sheepishly. He had no idea a demon could conjure up such a look and still be genuine.
“They’re bigger.” He commented, checking out her breasts. “Perks of pregnancy.”
A small pout formed on her lips, “Perk? They’re driving me nuts. How am I supposed to get off if you can’t touch them?”
Sweet Pea couldn’t help but laugh somewhat darkly, “I’ll get you off just fine, trust me.”
She rolled her eyes at him, taking her bra off and he noticed her nipple piercings were gone. “You’re letting them close?” He had quite liked them, if he were at all honest with himself. Seeing them gone was a little saddening.
“I’m essentially a shapeshifter. I can make my piercings come and go as I please. They’ll be back once I’m baby free.” Lav answered, catching his disappointment. It was quite amusing to her.
“So you can turn into anyone?” He asked curiously.
She shrugged, “anyone in my imagination, sure.”
He wondered how he could use this to his advantage sometime in the future. Since they were soulmates he foresaw plenty of sex in their lifetime and if she could shapeshift then he could practically have sex with anyone he wanted to. The thought was a bit reinvigorating.
Then, another thought crossed his mind, “so what do you really look like?” He asked, curious.
Lav laughed a bit then, “I looked like this when I was a human, pretty much. I didn’t have as many piercings and I’m naturally blonde. I just love the color purple.”
She didn’t waste much more time, tugging her pants off and throwing up off to the side. Sweet Pea’s eyes swept down her legs, enjoying the view as he got rid of his own pants.
Whenever they were both down to just underwear, Sweet Pea kneeled down between her legs, grabbing both of her thighs with his large hands to pull her down further onto the bed so that she was on her back. Lav let out a small giggle which urged him to go farther.
He grabbed the elastic of her underwear and slid them down her legs before tossing them to the side. The succubus watched him closely, having not expected him to eat her out. He just didn’t seem the type.
He kissed up her thighs, alternating between left and right until he reached her labia. His tongue teased the slit between them and Lavender shuddered in his grasp. The tip of his tongue reached her clit and circled in slowly.
Lav let out a small whimper, unable to stand the anticipation. Sweet Pea was smirking against her skin as he began to suck on the sensitive bundle of nerves. He easily inserted his middle finger into her core, moving it at a languid pace. The demon bit her lip to try and keep herself from squirming.
Sweet Pea continued the ministrations with his tongue, even biting her clit lightly to tease her. He increased the speed of his finger, curling it inside her to what felt like the perfect angle.
The faster he moved, the more breathy she became. Whimpering and mewling, her hips eventually jerking until he held them down with his free hand. He was pumping his finger as fast as he possibly could and she wondered how she could feel so much pleasure from just a single digit.
His tongue was lapping at her clit at a furious pace, sucking harder and harder until she hit her peak. Her toes curled almost painfully, her eyes flashing black as her back arched. Lav shook, gasping from the intensity as he licked her clean.
Already the pieces of her soul felt as if they were beginning to reconnect. It was a dizzying sensation that left her feeling like the room was spinning. She briefly wondered if he was feeling the same.
The room wasn’t spinning for Sweet Pea, but he was feeling something much more powerful than the intense depression that had been plaguing him. He watched her come down ever so gently from her high and wondered how he was so lucky to get a soulmate as beautiful as she was.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Lav asked after finally regaining her ability to see straight. “It’s weird, stop.” His gaze had been bordering on affectionate and despite being soulmates it was entirely too strange to her after how he had previously treated her.
Sweet Pea snorted, “you’re such a brat.” He mumbled before kissing her neck. She immediately forgot her discomfort and moaned lightly into his ear. The sound was sinfully harmonious.
“Don’t you like brats, daddy?” She teased, brushing her hips upward so that his hard clothed cock rubbed against her thigh. He couldn’t help but groan into the kiss against her pulse. Since the brand was gone, it no longer hurt her for him to touch it.
She reached down and tugged his boxers down as far as she could reach. He lifted up and took them off the rest of the way, parting from her flesh for only a brief moment before returning to leave black and purple bruises across her jugular.
Her hand delicately wrapped around his shaft, moving up and down gently. He couldn’t help but thrust into her grasp, making her giggle in response. “You don’t have to be so gentle.” She coaxed, “I know that’s not your forte. It’s not mine either.”
Sweet Pea sat up so he could look down at her and gauge whether or not she was telling the truth. “Are you sure?” He asked, knowing that last time he had been much too rough with her and now he wanted to make up for it...even if it made the sex a bit less enjoyable in his opinion.
She smiled at him assuredly. “Trust me, you won’t hurt me again.” She then yanked him down for a forceful kiss to prove to him that she did not want this to be some boring love making session. That wasn’t what she needed, even if that’s what he thought she did.
“Then roll over.” He growled at her after breaking the kiss. He lifted off of her enough so she could turn onto her stomach, immediately she pushed her ass up to rub against his erection. He grunted, teasing her by moving his hips in a subtle jerk.
He pressed his palm between her shoulder blades and forced her upper body down against the mattress, his hand slid down her spine as he sat up on his knees. Once he was up he gave her ass a firm slap hard enough to leave a red hand print. Lav let out a whine at the stinging pain.
“Keep your legs together.” He ordered as he grabbed his dick and aligned himself up to her pussy, pushing in without much hesitation. Lavender kept her knees together as his hand trailed back up her spine to grab the loose bun on the top of her head and yank it back.
The pulling of her hair forced her to sit back up, she cursed lightly under her breath at how amazing it felt to be completed by him once more. She could have never imagined how much better the sex would feel with both of their souls now intact with their corporal forms.
Sweet Pea held onto her hair in one hand while the other gripped her hip. He pulled back to the point where the only part of him within her was the head of his penis, then he snapped his hips roughly into her. The action elicited a loud moan, the force and friction sending thrills up her spine and making her head spin once more with delight.
He stayed still for another brief moment before doing it again and again, building up speed with each thrust. His hold on her kept her in place so that she couldn’t jerk forward away from him with the force of his thrusts.
She was moaning more, much louder now than she had been when he was using his mouth to pleasure her. She had been quiet then, almost meek. Now she was definitely unabashed and whatever had held her back before was totally gone. He absolutely adored the noises coming from her, the sounds urging him to go faster and harder.
Once he reached a good rhythm, he pulled her hair hard enough to bring her into a more upward position. As soon as he could comfortably reach her throat, the hand that had been on her hip grabbed around it, his palm against the front and fingers wrapping almost totally around it.
He applied pressure slightly, only adding more when he thrust into her. Lavender’s lightheadedness grew and just when she thought she might be completely gone, his grip slackened. Blood surged through her neck and into her brain, flooding her with endorphins. She gasped for breath, “ Fuck ,” was all she could manage to say before he began nearing her to the edge again.
His repeatedly making her consciousness bob up and down had her ready to come and somehow he knew this without her having to tell him. He kept his grip loose now as if daring her to struggle against him. “Come on you little whore,” He said in an authoritative tone. “Come all over daddy’s dick. You like getting choked like this, don’t you? Fucking slut.”
Lav cried out, her eyes deep pools of obsidian as she orgasmed for a second time. She grabbed his wrist, claws digging into him to the point of drawing blood. Sweet Pea moaned at the pain, somehow managing to move his hips faster before releasing his grip on her so he could hold onto her hips again.
Lav fell forward onto the bed, the only reason her hips and ass stayed up were because he was holding onto him. In minutes he was coming inside of her, filling her core with semen. Sweet Pea breathed heavily, holding the same position until he regained his wits about him. He pulled out and released his hold on her, guiding her hips to lay down on the bed softly.
He collapsed next to her, arms stretched above his head with his eyes closed. A moment later he felt a small weight on his chest and he knew it was her head. She uncurled herself from the position he had left her in so that her body was flush against his side. Her leg lifted so that their thighs were crossing and her arm lazily flung around his waist.
“You know Lily is going to make you live here now.” She said, her eyes also closed as she was on the verge of falling asleep. She felt so incredibly full that it was making her drowsy.
Sweet Pea hummed, “Does that mean I can have sex with you whenever I want?” He asked, his voice obviously hopeful.
Lav snorted back at him, “No. It means you can have sex with me whenever I want.”
He couldn’t stop the chuckle from coming out of his mouth, “it’s a deal.”
Meanwhile in Fox Forest, Lily had arrived at the cottage. She entered, dragging her feet as she forced herself to push forward. Jughead, sensing her exhaustion quickly met her in the entryway, catching her as she started to collapse onto the floor.
“Lily?” He asked worriedly as he picked her up. “You should have called me, I would have picked you up!”
Lily let out a small tired sigh. Despite her state, there was a smile on her face. “They can be happy now, Jug. It worked.”
Jughead sighed as he carried her into her bedroom. “I’m glad it worked, Lils, but you really should have called me. I could have brought Daisy with me. What if you had passed out in the forest? It’s not safe.”
She didn’t seem to be hearing his lecture though. As he laid her down she grabbed him, pulling him in for a loving kiss. His energy entwined with hers beautifully, her skin practically glowing with the new source of energy. Jughead pulled away lightly. “It was reckless-”
“Where’s Daisy?” She asked, ignoring his chiding her again.
“She’s playing in her room.” Jughead said. “I believe the stuffed animals were having some kind of important coven meeting. I didn’t want to disturb her because it sounded serious.”
Lily couldn’t help but laugh. He was so good to her little girl and it was so refreshing to know that she could trust him with her when she needed to. He was so amazing. “She wants to ride on your back next full moon. I told her no and she cried about it for hours.”
Jug cocked his head to the side, “she wants a ride? I can do that.”
“Jug, please, you don’t have to.” Lily said, trying not to giggle at the mental image. “She’ll get over it.”
He grinned, “it’ll be fun! We can even put a necklace on me to act as reigns and-”
She silenced him with another kiss. “If that’s what you want to do, my love.”
The wolf relented to his urge to crawl into bed with her. He laid down and pulled her into his chest so he could bury his face in her light colored hair. “Did you ever figure out what the last bit of the prophecy meant? Light meeting dark to bring balance or whatever?”
Lily let out a small sigh, “not yet. I’m still working on it.”
He gave her body an affectionate squeeze, “just rest for now. We’ll try to decipher it later.” She let out a contented sound before letting herself succumb to sleep.
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#sweet pea#sweet pea x oc#jughead jones#jughead jones x oc#kurtz#riverdale#kurtz x oc#sweet pea imagine#sweet pea fanfic#jughead jones imagine#jughead jones fanfic#riverdale imagine#riverdale fanfic#lavender rhodes#lily owens#myra vaughn#in the shadows
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Four times Maggie Scully’s prayers were answered and one time they weren’t
Written for @xfficchallenges The Fic You’d Never Write challenge. I’ve pretty much covered comedy, drama, family, sick, smut, angst, casefile and au in my stories so it was tricky to think of a new angle. I couldn’t bring myself to write another pairing, so I settled on another POV: Maggie Scully.
1 Lost and found
She watched Fox as he walked around the apartment. She knew Dana thought highly of him, had come to trust in him. But she had also spoken of his impetuosity, the disregard he displayed for his own safety, his unwavering belief in the hopeless, the inexplicable and the outlandish. Dana told her that oftentimes during a case he was driven to point of closing his mind to logic, order or direct command. And for that, today, now, Maggie Scully was grateful. He barked orders at the techs, he spoke with authority to whoever he was conversing with on his cellphone, he regarded each blood stain, each hair, each upended object in Dana’s apartment with a deep consideration that made her believe in the hopeless – that Dana would come home. Safe.
‘Mrs Scully – why don’t I get one of the officers to drive you home. You should try to get some sleep.’
She shook her head and looked at the fern that draped over the top of the cupboard in Dana’s living room. Bright green, well-cared for. Full of life. ‘I wouldn’t sleep, but I do feel like I’m in the way here.’
Fox nodded and offered her a half smile of sympathy. She saw a depth of understanding in his eyes. She saw how his losing Dana cut him – they had shared so much in just a year or so. She saw respect and fear too. But above all she saw tenacity.
‘I can drive you, if you prefer.’
‘I wouldn’t want to take you away from here.’
He chuffed out a bitter laugh. ‘Perhaps I’m better off staying. There’s lots to be done still.’
‘I’ll be praying.’
He put his hand on hers. ‘I will find her. I’ll do everything I can to find her.’
‘I know,’ she said. And she did.
2 Doubt and Trust
Dana rushed past her, taking the stairs two at a time and slammed the door of her room. The rafters shook and Maggie looked out the window at the garden, marvelling at how well it had survived the cooler months. As she waited downstairs, she could hear Dana opening drawers and shutting them. She heard her crying out and talking to herself, wild words, incomprehensible ranting. Maggie waited until it fell silent. She learned early on as a parent, that the trouble was always to be found in the silence.
Dana had been an introspective child, the quietest. Missy was all drama and theatrics, Bill was full of his own self-importance and blustering righteousness, Charlie was a noisy terrier desperate to keep up with the older ones. But Dana was always observing. And when she did break down there was always a damned good reason. Maggie knew her daughter felt so deeply, tried so hard to work out how to live in harmony with a world full of pain and injustice that it sometimes became impossible to be the stoic one, to not be worn down.
And whatever had worn her down now was frightening in its ferocity. This had not been a slow chipping away; this had been a searing, burning explosion.
Maggie trod carefully, holding the banister, weighing up whether to call Fox first or wait for him to come. He would come. Of that, she was certain. She knocked, lightly at first, then with more force. She rattled the door against its lock.
‘Dana, honey. Let me in. Please.’
Silence.
‘Dana, I want to help you, but you have to open the door.’
Nothing.
‘I have the key, Dana. I’m going to open the door anyway. It will be much better if you open it yourself. I just want to see that you’re okay, that’s all.’
When Dana pulled back the door, Maggie tried to contain her rising fear. She was still fully dressed but rumpled, her hair tangled, her eyes red-rimmed and wide with terror. She was wringing her fingers, pacing.
‘It’s all been a lie, mom. All of it.’
‘I’m sure that’s not true, Dana.’
‘It is,’ she said, wiping spittle from her chin. ‘I’ve been so stupid. So stupid. How could I not have seen it?’
Maggie moved forward, holding her arms out towards Dana. ‘Why don’t you come downstairs with me? I’ve made tea. You’ll feel better if you drink something, sit down.’ She brushed the sides of Dana’s arms, just a light touch, but one that sent her daughter skittling backwards as though her fingers were electrically charged.
The rapping at the front door was the tipping point. Dana sunk to her knees, clutching her hands against her ears. When the knocking came again, louder, more insistent, Dana jolted upright and shoved Maggie out of the door. ‘Don’t answer it. It’s them. They can’t come in. If you answer it, they’ll kill me.’ She shut the door.
The walk down the stairs was terrifying. The fear that Dana would hurt herself if she answered the door weighted against the fear that she would hurt herself if she didn’t. Before she even pulled it open, she knew it was Fox and that she wouldn’t be able to stop him. She recognised the look in his eyes. The depth of understanding. Respect and fear. And the tenacity.
And the moment Dana collapsed in tears she saw the love too.
That night she prayed for her daughter. And she prayed for Fox. And she prayed they could move past this event to regain their mutual trust. The trust they needed more than her prayers.
3 Strength and Weakness
Dana’s skin was so pale and with her gaunt face, she looked haunted. Maggie knew she was stubbornly refusing to be as terrified as everyone else. Maggie sat in the chair most nights and read to her. She slept fitfully, twisting the sheets and mumbling about Mulder. Whatever had happened since he reappeared, Maggie felt sure that her daughter would rest easier if Fox spent a little more time with her. The chip that Fox had offered up as a cure was a mystery that Bill refused to give any credence to, but Maggie knew her daughter, and if Dana trusted Fox with her future, then the least she could do as her mother was to wait and read and hope.
Dana stirred, turning her face to the window as her eyes fluttered open. She smiled at Maggie. Maggie squeezed her hand and offered her a cup of water. Dana hoisted herself up and sat against the starched pillows.
“Has Mulder been in?”
“He called by earlier, but didn’t stay. Can you manage something to eat? A little jello? Bill stopped by too. He says to say hi.”
“I think he chooses to stop in when Mulder’s here so he can look like he cares more.”
Maggie clucked. “I think that’s a little unkind, Dana.” She gave Dana a spoon and a bowl of orange jello.
“It’s true. His presence here intimidates Mulder.”
“Fox is a grown man. An FBI agent. He carries a gun. Your brother shouldn’t intimidate him.”
Dana swallowed a mouthful of jello and smiled. “Mulder’s vulnerable at the moment. He’s had his beliefs tested. He has had to re-examine his entire purpose, his quest for the truth, his job,” she paused and took another spoonful. “This illness. His passion is both his strength and his weakness. He’s been shattered by recent events.”
Dana lay her head back against the pillow.
“You can’t use all your strength worrying about Fox.”
“Who else will, mom?”
She was asleep within minutes. Mulder knocked gently and slid into the room, taking the seat on the other side of the bed. Maggie put the book on the side table and whispered to him that she was going to find a cup of tea. He stood up as she left, closing the door behind her. She waited a moment outside. Watched as he lifted the chair closer to Dana’s side. Placed his hand over Dana’s.
Maggie stopped on her way to the canteen, visiting the quiet room. She contemplated the landscape on the wall, a forest scene with towering trees that stretched their leaf-laden limbs to a deep blue sky. She closed her eyes and gathered her strength, praying for Dana.
And for Fox.
4 Forward and Backward
It was sometimes difficult to understand just what the FBI wanted. They took so much and gave nothing back. All Maggie wanted for her daughter was peace, dignity. She’d buried Fox. She’d witnessed the miracle of his resurrection. They had a child only to be forced to give William away. And then the trial. Charges that carried the death penalty. The break out. And years of forced isolation. And now this.
The driveway was long and rutted. The house always seemed like it had been stuck on the block with no care. And now it just looked disheveled and sorry as they drove away.
“I’m sorry you had to come get me, mom.”
“I wish you’d tell me what’s going on, Dana.”
Her daughter leant her head against the window and didn’t speak for hours.
Those first few days, Fox left 86 messages on the answerphone. Dana switched off her cell. Maggie threw away sandwiches, crackers, fruit and a put servings of pot roast, meatloaf and lasagne back in the fridge. She boiled the kettle more times than she could count and listened to Dana sob herself to sleep.
“I can’t go back.”
These were the first words Dana spoke.
“Why not?”
“I hurt him more when I’m there.”
Maggie shook her head. “I know you two. You need each other.”
Tears streaked Dana’s face. “We did. We do. More than is healthy. We take steps forward and then we run backward. That’s been the pattern of our lives.”
“You’ll find a way through. I’ll help you.”
Dana sobbed, laying her head on her arms across the table. “Prayers can’t fix this, mom.”
Maggie prayed anyway. And the FBI finally stopped taking.
5 Answers and Questions
The sounds came and went, along with the light. The sounds fell away. The light blinded her then receded. She took comfort in the feel of someone holding her hand but sometimes, when she woke up, her hands were folded across her abdomen and all she had left was the ghost of a touch.
It was dark. It was bright. It was silent. It was chaos. She was comforted. She was frightened.
She could hear his voice. Charlie. Love swelled in her heart, her veins. She couldn’t hear because love was pulsing through her, rushing in her ears and keeping her eyes pressed shut. She’d prayed for Charlie’s return to the fold, to her breast. He’d come home.
She willed her eyes to open. She saw Fox. And Dana.
“My son is named William too,” she said.
One last prayer. Just one.
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The Haunting of Thores-Cross
Ghosts of Thores-Cross Book 1
by Karen Perkins
Genre: Paranormal Suspense
"The ghost of a wronged young woman in the village of Thores-Cross waits 230 years to have her story told in Perkins's suspenseful and atmospheric first Yorkshire Ghost novel"
- BookLife by Publishers Weekly
*Silver Medal Winner, European fiction - 2015 IPPY Book Awards
*#1 Bestseller in 6 Amazon Categories, including Ghost Suspense, British Horror and Gothic Romance
*Top 10 Bestseller in 8 more, including Historical Thrillers and Occult Horror
*Over 100 5-STAR reviews on Amazon.com
Likened by independent reviewers on Amazon to the Brontë sisters, Edgar Allen Poe, Barbara Erskine and Nathaniel Hawthorne, Karen Perkins' novels are filled with unflinching honesty and an acute understanding of human nature. She explores not only the depths of humanity, but the depths of human motivation behind the actions and pain people inflict upon each other, as well as the repercussions of these actions not only in the short term, but also the later generations who live with the implications of the past.
Emma Moorcroft is still grieving after a late miscarriage and moves to her dream house at Thruscross Reservoir with her husband, Dave. Both Emma and Dave hope that moving into their new home signifies a fresh start, but life is not that simple. Emma has nightmares about the reservoir and the drowned village that lies beneath the water, and is further disturbed by the sound of church bells - from a church that no longer exists.
Jennet is fifteen and lives in the isolated community of Thores-Cross, where life revolves about the sheep on which they depend. Following the sudden loss of both her parents, she is seduced by the local wool merchant, Richard Ramsgill. She becomes pregnant and is shunned not only by Ramsgill, but by the entire village. Lonely and embittered, Jennet's problems escalate, leading to tragic consequences which continue to have an effect through the centuries.
Emma becomes fixated on Jennet, neglecting herself, her beloved dogs and her husband to the point where her marriage may not survive. As Jennet and Emma's lives become further entwined, Emma's obsession deepens and she realises that the curse Jennet inflicted on the Ramsgill family over two hundred years ago is still claiming lives.
Emma is the only one who can stop Jennet killing again, but will her efforts be enough?
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Video Trailer:
https://youtu.be/qas3UEht_6Y
The Haunting of Thores-Cross - Excerpt
I could not look down at myself. I could not bear the sight of Mam’s clothes on me. Both skirt and shawl itched. I knew I would be aware of every thread of wool on my skin all day. More noise at the door, and I followed Mary downstairs. Digger and his son, Edward, had arrived with the cart to take Mam to the church. I let Mary Farmer organise them. It were Mary who urged their care. Mary who gave instructions to John over Pa. Mary who pushed me through the door and out into bright sunlight. It were Mam’s funeral, how could the sun shine? I looked back at the house and, for a moment, pity for Pa mixed with my despair. How long before Digger’s cart came for him?
‘Come on, lass, no dawdling!’
I turned back to the cart and started the long walk behind it down the hill, Mary Farmer at my side. After a few steps I stopped hearing her endless chatter. It became just another sound of the country, like the birdsong. Ever present but meaningless. We passed the smithy and William Smith joined us, then the Gate Inn and Robert and Martha Grange.
One by one, the village turned out, dressed in their best, and fell in behind us. Mary Farmer greeted them all. I hardly noticed. I felt as if my insides had frozen. My heart, my lungs, belly, everything. With each step, they splintered further. I wondered if I would make it as far as the church at the other side of Thores-Cross or whether I would be left on the side of the lane, a heap of cracked and broken ice.
‘Here.’ Mary Farmer nudged me and held out a handkerchief. ‘Thought this might come in useful. John won’t miss it. Not today.’
I took it. I had not realised I were crying, but when I wiped my face and eyed the scrap of cloth, it were sopping wet. My eyes and nose must have been streaming since we left the house.
I scratched my shoulder. Remembered I were wearing Mam’s clothes and lost myself in sobs. Mary Farmer tried to put an ample arm around me, but I shrugged her off. I wondered if I would ever stop crying. The cart reached the bridge and turned right. I followed, walking alongside the river, the same walk I used to make every other Sunday with Mam and Pa. We shared a curate with Fewston and would have to make that walk twice a month, unless Robert Grange were making the trip in his dray cart and we could ride the two miles over the moor. I realised with a start that I would not have to do that any more – not if I did not want to. Less than half the village made the trip to Fewston, claiming a variety of ills, and we only went because Mam insisted. I cried harder at the jolt of relief I felt.
‘Here we are, lass. Thee stick with me, I’ll get thee through this.’ Mary Farmer clung to my arm and I peered at the church. Digger and Edward lifted Mam down from the cart, ready for various men from the village to carry it inside. Robert Grange, William Smith, Thomas Fuller and George Weaver. Our closest neighbours. I took a deep breath and followed them into the plain single-storey stone building with the steps so worn they were more like a ramp. It were cold inside, despite the July sun. Or maybe that were me. Still ice, still cracking, but still in one piece.
Cursed
Ghosts of Thores-Cross Book 2
Jennet's here. No one is safe.
A skeleton is dug up at the crossing of the ways on Hanging Moor, striking dread into the heart of Old Ma Ramsgill - the elderly matriarch of the village of Thruscross. And with good reason. The eighteenth-century witch, Jennet, has been woken. A spate of killings by a vicious black dog gives credence to her warnings and the community - in particular her family - realise they are in terrible danger. Drastic measures are needed to contain her, but with the imminent flooding of the valley to create a new reservoir, do they have the ability to stop her and break her curse?
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Cursed - Excerpt
Thruscross, North Yorkshire
7th August 1966 – 11:30 a.m.
‘Right, tea break over, lads, back to work. Rog, Steve, you’re up on Hanging Moor in the bulldozers. As soon as they’ve gone through, Paul and Simon, you get the chippings down. And take care – don’t go past the markers, that drop’s lethal.’
The road crew groaned, threw their dregs of tea to the ground and refastened their flasks before clambering into their machines to dig out the access road to the new dam spanning the Washburn Valley. The valley would be flooded in a month’s time, creating the new reservoir for the Leeds Corporation Waterworks to supply half of Leeds with drinking water, and the road should have been completed last month.
Rog led the way, the large bucket scraping heather and peat, then dumping it into the waiting tipper truck.
Steve followed, making a deeper cut. Together they gouged an ugly scar over the pristine Yorkshire moorland.
‘Bugger,’ Steve cried out and jolted in his seat, knocking the control levers. The big digger wobbled, teetered, then slowly toppled over towards the edge and a sheer wooded drop of a hundred and fifty feet to the valley bottom below.
‘Steve!’ Rog cried. ‘Lads, help!’
The rest of the crew downed tools and diggers and rushed to the stricken bulldozer. By the time they reached it, Rog was already clambering on to the cab, desperately trying not to look at the vista that opened up before him only a few feet away.
‘Steve?’ he called again. No answer. His mate lay unconscious, twisted in his seat. ‘No!’ The digger slid a foot or two in the wrong direction.
‘Rog, get down; she’s going over!’ Andy, the foreman, shouted.
‘No – Steve’s out cold.’
‘You’re no help to him if your weight pushes it over the edge – get down! We’ll get help, but we need to secure the digger somehow, keep her steady.’
Rog took a last look at his mate then nodded. He realised he couldn’t get into the cab without destabilising the digger further and he had no idea how serious Steve’s injuries were. He climbed down carefully, just as Simon drew up in the tipper truck. Half full of soil and rock, it was the heaviest vehicle there.
Andy got on the radio to inform his boss at the dam where there was a telephone to call for help, while Paul ran over with a chain. He secured it round one of the digging arms, and Simon backed up – slowly – until the chain was taut.
The digger shifted, turning around the pivot point they’d created. The back end now hung off the edge of the cliff.
‘Keep it there, Simon,’ Andy called. ‘And keep it in reverse – if the edge fails, you’ll need to pull him backwards.’
‘Can’t he just do that anyway?’ Rog asked.
‘We don’t know how badly he’s hurt. If he’s broken his back or neck, moving him could make it worse. We don’t want to move him unless we have to – not until the Fire Brigade and ambulance get here. What happened anyway?’
‘Uh.’ Rog pulled his attention away from the downed machine. ‘I don’t know – he shouted out, then rolled it.’
‘He shouted before he rolled?’
‘Yes.’
‘Andy, Rog. Come and have a look at this,’ Paul called and beckoned them over to join him where Steve had made his last cut.
‘What is it?’ Andy came hurrying over.
‘Uh, looks like a skull.’
‘What? Oh Christ, it’s a bloody skeleton! Well, that’s us finished, lads, no more work here for at least a month while they sort this one out,’ Rog said.
‘Forget that, we’ll just go round it,’ Andy said.
The three men looked over at Steve, then back into the grave. Only the skull and shoulder girdle were visible. As one, they shuddered as a worm pushed its way out of the compacted earth behind the jaw bones, for a moment looking as if the skull had stuck an emaciated tongue out at them.
Jennet
Ghosts of Thores-Cross Book 3
‘Jennet will have your heart and your fear in equal measure’
‘Through Jennet we see how cruelty can drive even the most ordinary people to hatred and, in Jennet's case, evil’
Yorkshire is in the grip of a heatwave, and Thruscross Reservoir has dried up to reveal the remains of the drowned village of Thores-Cross beneath.
Playing in the mud which coats the valley floor, four-year-old Clare Wainwright finds an old inkpot, and can’t wait to show it to her best friend, Louise. But when Louise’s mother, Emma, sees it, her reaction is shocking, and both families are plunged into their worst nightmares.
Emma knows what the inkpot portends:
Jennet has woken.
Now she wants the children.
This is not a gore-ridden, jump-scare horror story. This is more real than that. Jennet is a story about the horrific things that people do to each other, and the way we react to that maltreatment – which does not always end with death.
Jennet’s story is a horror story because it’s not necessarily fiction. It reflects the way women were treated in the time that Jennet lived. It reflects the psychology of the abuse cycle. And it reflects real life. All of it.
If, as I believe, the spirit does not die when the physical body dies, then how many spirits are looking for vengeance today?
What wrongs will you want to right when you pass through that veil? What will I?
This is the conclusion of Jennet’s story, which began in The Haunting of Thores-Cross. I hope she finds peace. I really do.
Goodreads * Amazon
Jennet - Excerpt
Ma pulled her coat tight around her body and, head bowed to the wind, pushed forward with as much strength as she could muster. No wonder Spencer hadn’t wanted to shift.
‘Sensible hoss,’ she muttered, but knew she had to push on.
With the headwind she could not hear anything from behind, and forced herself to stop and turn to check the others were following.
Biddy hooked her arm in Ma’s as she reached her, and Winnie took her other arm.
Elsie Grange and Babs also linked arms, and together they fought their way into the headwind, Nell and Rachel carrying lanterns on the flanks of the group.
Winnie came to a sudden stop, pulling on Ma’s arm, and Babs bumped into her back. ‘Listen!’
The women huddled together.
‘I can only hear the wind,’ Elsie complained.
‘Hush. Winnie’s right, there’s summat else,’ Ma said.
This time they all heard the low growl, and Babs squeaked. ‘That’s what I heard at the fairy spring!’
‘Hold the lanterns high,’ Ma instructed.
Nell and Rachel obeyed, and the seven women peered into the darkness. They jumped when it was split by a streak of bright light.
‘There, something moved!’ Rachel exclaimed.
‘Come on, hurry,’ Ma said as a loud growl competed with reverberations of thunder.
The women got moving once more, their steps quick and purposeful along the lane.
Even Ma jumped at the next growl. It came from right behind them.
Babs hurried to the front of the pack, her terrified tears blending with rainwater on her cheeks. Ma took pity on the young lass, and hustled forward to join and calm her.
They paused at the stile in the wall bordering Ratten Row. Wolf Farm lay a few yards beyond.
Ma turned to Babs. ‘Nearly done,’ she encouraged.
The wind tore at their coats, and the two women crouched down by the wall for a little shelter, then froze. There had been another sound; more a snarl than a growl, Ma was sure of it. Was Jennet here? Was she in the form of the black dog or wolf which had been the cause of so much recent grief?
They listened hard as the rest of the women joined them, but could hear little over the shriek of the wind, the pounding of the rain, and the rumbles of thunder. The church bell tolled once more and Ma shivered. Had she taken on too much? Was the witch too strong for her?
But she could not waver now. ‘Come on,’ she shouted, and turned to drag herself over the stile. She felt hands helping her up, and swung her leg over the capstones. She nearly overbalanced as a gust hit her, but her friends kept her upright and she was soon over.
Biddy, Winnie and Elsie followed, then the younger women clambered across, Nell once again at the rear, brandishing her lantern, which Rachel took off her while she made her climb.
‘Come on!’ Ma bellowed, but her leg slipped from under her as she stepped forward and she skidded into a painful fall.
‘Ma!’
Babs and Rachel tried to help her up, but lost their own footing on the drenched ground.
Biddy joined the heap.
‘Ground’s too wet!’ Winnie cried. ‘Whole hillside’s a bog!’
‘Oh God!’ Nell shoved her lantern at Elsie as the moon appeared through a break in the clouds. ‘Stan! Alfie!’ She ran towards the farmhouse, falling to her knees more than once, but concern for her husband’s young brothers pushed her on.
A rectangle of light appeared in the front wall of Wolf Farm as another crash of thunder accompanied a blaze of lightning.
Stan reached down, his hobnailed boots helping him keep his footing, and pulled Nell back up to her feet.
She gesticulated, her words incomprehensible in the wind, but a flash of understanding hit Ma as she realised the young farmer’s wife was pointing uphill.
‘Get back, get back, it’s a trap!’ she shouted at the other women. ‘That beast wasn’t stalking us, it was herding us! Get back to road before the moor slides!’
Nell, flanked by Stan on one side, and his younger brother Alfie on the other, joined them, Nell’s words echoing Ma’s.
The mud-covered, straggly group struggled back to the boundary wall, and heaved themselves over as the ground they had been standing on slipped.
Stan hurled himself forward, his feet carried away. Rachel and Nell caught his sleeves as he fell.
Alfie looked up from his position on the wall, anguish clear in his eyes before clouds darkened the moon once more. He could do nothing to help his brother – his hands were full of Elsie Grange as he heaved her up and over the wall, Winnie hot on her heels.
Elsie screamed, and Alfie rose up, a capstone held in both hands which he flung with a strength borne as much from terror as from years of hurling bales of hay and contending with maddened ewes about the farm.
An inhuman screech followed and Alfie held his arms up in triumph. The women did not need to hear his declaration of triumph to know he had hit the wolf-dog.
A louder rumble than even the thunder which roared overhead deafened the group, and they turned as one to see a river of peat and heather hit the back wall of Wolf Farm. It found at least one means of entry as seconds later a dark, muddy mess spewed from the front door on its journey downhill.
The nine bedraggled villagers stared in disbelief.
‘That settles it.’ Nell’s voice was audible between gusts of wind and furious clangs of the church bell. ‘You two boys are coming home with me. Billy could do with your help on the farm, and there’s plenty of room for you in the house. You’re not spending another minute here.’
Karen Perkins is the author of eight fiction titles: the Yorkshire Ghost Stories and the Valkyrie Series of historical nautical fiction. All of her fiction has appeared at the top of bestseller lists on both sides of the Atlantic, including the top 21 in the UK Kindle Store in 2018. Her first Yorkshire Ghost Story - THE HAUNTING OF THORES-CROSS - won the Silver Medal for European Fiction in the prestigious 2015 Independent Publisher Book Awards in New York, whilst her Valkyrie novel, DEAD RECKONING, was long-listed in the 2011 MSLEXIA novel competition. Originally a financial advisor, a sailing injury left Karen with a chronic pain condition which she has been battling for over twenty five years (although she did take the European ladies title despite the injury!). Writing has given her a new lease of - and purpose to - life, and she is currently working on a sequel to Parliament of Rooks: Haunting Brontë Country. When not writing, she helps other authors prepare their books for publishing and has edited over 150 titles, including the 2017 Kindle UK Storyteller Award winner, The Relic Hunters by David Leadbeater, and has also published a series of publishing guides to help aspiring authors realise their dreams. Karen Perkins is a member of the Society of Authors and the Horror Writers Association
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Author Links
Website: www.karenperkinsauthor.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Yorkshireghosts
Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/yorkshireghosts
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LionheartG
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/yorkshireghosts
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Karen-Perkins/e/B009BLBUTY
Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7135531.Karen_Perkins
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