#novel preview

[soleiluzz]

the storyteller's blend - a preview

war was a good thing, yes, according to the many tribes enna had once documented at the height of the crimson war. war is conquest and pain, but also an opportunity to sow new seeds into barren land, with new techniques brought to the lowly people around them, was something almost all the elders said, and like sheep, gentle and foolish and utterly unknowing, their next generation followed them into battle, hailing the brutishly mutilated bodies of their brothers and sisters and friends as keepers of the souls of the brave.

but enna knew better than that. enna always knew better than that.

she was content with her little shop near the mountain range that divided their lands into the north and south, tending to the blends she created specifically for her ailing customers. enna had seen much pain, but pain often brought with it contentment, and she was content.

"enna! hello!" she hears as the door jingles open, and a young orc walks in, coin pouch on the ready for sweets or a specific blend his mother might've forced him to get. yes, she was content. there was nothing about this life that she hated at all. except the weird one-off customer, but that was customer service for you. "my mom asked me to get her the same blend as last time, if you can make it!"

"ah, ah, duma." enna murmurs gentle, and for a minute, she worries if her age shows through, though the boy doesn't acknowledge it. "no receipt, no blend. every blend is unique to the customer, and this lady's too old to remember all the blends she's ever made."

"i know, i know, auntie." he sulks, passing the coin pouch to her. "it's in here, along with the money for last time. can i go look at the sweets?"

some of my mutuals wanted to see this, so im releasing this a bit early hehe :) but basically, this is a cosy fantasy that revolves around my fmc enna, a witch who mysteriously managed to get younger as the years passed by. however, instead of obsessing about her looks, enna has only one goal in mind- find the perfect blend of spices and herbs to create the perfect storyteller, all while writing down whatever she's seen and heard her whole life in order to preseve the stories of tribes that no longer exist.

[the-hollow-quill]

Prologue

It took thirty seconds for the alarm to start shrieking after the doors were opened. A single shrill, piercing note repeated throughout the white mirror-walled complex as the sterile hallways filled with people. Children and teenagers stumbled out of their rooms in the dark hospital gown garments, frantic-eyed.

A kid dressed differently from the others in the near militaristic uniform of the Institute’s staff, sprinted down the reflective linoleum with purpose. Their thick-heeled combat boots pounded loudly against the floor in alteration with the alarm as they swung themselves around a corner with a half abandoned follow me gesture.

It hadn’t taken the older gowned teenagers long to catch on to what was happening as they ushered the younger kids out in front of them, urging them to follow the uniformed kid still bolting through the labyrinthine institute. They were getting out. The kid was breaking them out.

Guards in heavy white uniforms stormed into the hallway, their masks matching the mirrored walls reflected the crowd of faces. Doctors rushed in after them, their hands outstretched toward the soldiers pleadingly as one shouted, “Stop! We still need them!”

The uniformed kid looked over their shoulder with wide eyes as they watched the soldiers ignore the doctors’ orders and aimed down the crowd of escapees, firing upon the hall without hesitation. Indistinguishable shouting, shattering glass, echoing gunshots. Teenagers and children crumpled to the floor in dark bloodied heaps.

Desperation and urgency clawed at the uniformed kid’s throat as they clenched their jaw. They were supposed to get the others out—as many of them as they could. What good would it be if they all died before they ever got to the door?

Get them out. Get them out. Get. Them. OUT.

They threw themselves around a corner, the momentum of the movement slamming them into the opposite wall with a pained gasp as they slid across the slick floor. Adrenaline sent them careening to their feet again, looking at the unharmed teenagers in the new hallway, they hoped they’d all catch on as they launched into another sprint. Power itched under their skin, sung in their head until it drowned out the sounds of people dying in the hallway they’d just left.

Blood-spattered gowned teenagers and children staggered into the hallway behind the kid desperate and panicked. The uniformed kid sighed at the sight, their stomach turning at the sound of more gunshots, and they pushed their altered body to its limit. They dug their boots farther into the ground, pushing themselves faster, farther, please. Electricity crackled above them, the fluorescent lights popping with the overcharge before the corridor was thrown into darkness. Surprised shouts echoed behind them as the uniformed kid kept their pace.

Whipping themselves around the last nearly identical corner the kid’s breathing stuttered at the sight of their goal. A blinking electrical panel next to a large industrial loading-dock door beckoned them closer. Come on, faster. You’re almost there. You need to get some of them out.

Click, click, click.

The rhythmic tapping of high heels on the complex’s hard flooring broke through the white noise in the uniformed kids’ head. Shit. Fear froze their limbs, their foot catching on the back of their calf sending them crashing to the floor in a pained mass. They slid until they collided with the far wall with a resounding bang, their spine screaming with the impact.

“I feel,” the Doctor’s honeyed voice called as she slowly sauntered over to the kid, “like you know better, Alter.”

The kid—Alter—whimpered, pulling themselves to their knees, their eyes never raising higher than the woman’s knees. Her heels continued to clack with her leisurely pace down the adjoining hall toward them, her hands in her long, pristine lab coat.

Alter pushed themselves to their shaking feet, the panel not a foot behind them. “Please.” The word was broken, whispering horribly out of their throat with disuse as they twisted, their bruised spine cracking with the effort and they slammed their hand on the lock-panel. “Come on, you bastard, work.”

Electric sparks lit up underneath Alter’s palm, cracking along their fingers as the panel beeped and the door swung open with a screech. The alarm tone echoed through the speakers outside the complex walls and Alter turned, watching as the escapees came rushing toward them. 

They rushed through the doors and Alter watched the tear-stained, blank faces in a blur. Faceless guards continued to fire on them, rifle shots slicing through bodies that crumpled to the ground lifeless in front of Alter. Inhuman. Cruel.

A young olive-skinned girl, no older than twelve holding the hand of an older girl, locked eyes with Alter for a moment as she ran by. Bright blue eyes and matching faint electric veins. A successful experiment. Alter watched as she was pushed out by the older girl leaving Alter there.

They sighed as the last lucky few people escaped through the institute doors and their knees finally gave out. With a metallic thud they hit the ground, a sharp pain shooting up their unaltered left leg.

“Well, now we’re behind schedule,” the Doctor said, coming to a stop next to Alter’s shivering side. Her eyes were fixed on the backs of the dwindling children. 

“I can’t say I’m necessarily surprised, but I must ask: was this really worth it?” she asked, looking down at Alter.

Alter stared down the corridor littered with dead kids and blood pooling along white laboratory floors before slowly lifting their eyes to look up at the Doctor. Cold brown eyes and plastered sickly-sweet smile made their stomach twist nauseatingly, and Alter couldn’t help but wonder if it was worth it.

[jannahime]

Metanoia

Synopsis: Shin Na-young a 28 year old marine biologist after finding out her fiancé cheated on her with her cousin Kwak Hee-mi, her heart broke into billions of pieces and she swore that if she had other relationships that she would not fall in love and she would break them before they would break her. She lost all faith in love, and she decides to drown her sadness and anger at a bar where she gets drunk and gets entangled with an important person in the business industry. She has a one night stand with the man and it’s then she realizes that she had a one night stand with her boss who owns the research that she works at. Her boss is automatically fallen in love with her, but she hasn’t so it’s up to him to convince her to give a second chance. 

This is a story I’m writing as a project. I hope you like.

True love, a timeless and universal concept that everyone can relate to. But, love at times can be awful and painful.

I myself was in love once. I thought it was true love. I thought we were simply meant to be.....but I guess I was the only one living in a fool's paradise.

Because after I found both my cousin Kwak Hee-mi and my son to be husband Hyun Seung-hwan together in our house in our bedroom....I was heartbroken.

I called off the engagement and continued to pursue my career in marine science to try and forget about him....but no one ever forgets their first love.

Love is nothing but a joke, a feeling that will only break your heart in the long run. And now....my heart is as cold as ice.

Mercilessly turning men down or breaking up with them first before they ever get a chance to either hurt me or just grow tired of me.

A few months ago:

I had fish to fry once again. I already knew my current boyfriend Song Myung-bak was cheating on me with Hee-mi.

I was always one step ahead whenever I found out he was slipping up a few weeks ago. Today I was out with my ¹Seonbaes in the ocean near the port of Gunsan. Jae-seung and I were swimming around looking for the leatherback sea turtle.

"²YAH! YAH! JAE-SEUNG AH! NA-YOUNG AH!" Yelled Cho Chang-woo with worry as he was concerned for their well being.

"³Hyung! It's okay! Don't panic! They're wearing oxygen tanks, remember?" Spoke Do Won-Sul calmly trying to calm Chang-woo down.

"I know! But it just terrifies me that they've been underwater for so long looking for that damn sea turtle!" Replied Chang-woo with worry.

"Oh come on Hyung! Look at where we are! We're at the ocean! Relaxing with our Hubae who owns a boat! And might I add that it's a yatch! And she's letting us have it for a whole month's vacation! Isn't it exciting?" Replied So Kyung-ho with excitement as he reeled in a fish.

"Yeah Hyung! Come on in! The water is fine!" Spoke Hwan Hae-il and Yeo Jong-soo in a relaxed state as they floated in the water with their doughnut floats.

Chang woo looked at them all with an annoyed look. "We already work in the ocean you idiots! Y'all treat our job like an everyday vacation you lazy brats! Plus I'm not a big fan of the ocean which is why I worry for Jae-seung and Na-young!" Replied Chang-woo firmly.

"Yah! Jae-seung ah! Na-young ah! It's time for dinner!" Yelled Kim Kwang-min at the top of his lungs catching Jae-seung's attention.

Jae-seung hears Kwang-min calling them and he turns to Na-young signaling her that it's time to go in which she nods her head slightly whilst giving him a thumbs up. Jae-seung and Na-young explode out of the water flipping their hair back looking like a beautiful merman and mermaid.

"Come on Na-young ⁴ssi! Kwang-min Hyung made ⁵Gopchang-gui and ⁶Kimchi!" Spoke Jae-seung with a charming smile as he ran his hand through his Carmel brown hair.

Na-young only gives him a small smile. "Sorry Jae-seung....but I can't join you guys for dinner today. There's....something I have to take care of." Replied Na-young placidly as she put on some mini shorts and then she dried her long, flowy, wavy jet black hair with a towel.

Jae-seung and the other's look at her with furrowed brows. They all know exactly why she's leaving. They already knew that her boyfriend was cheating on her and they didn't want her to think about it, which is the reason why they asked her to stay with them. But she refused.

"Na-young ssi.......are you leaving because of him? He's-"

"Jae-seung ah....I know you and everyone else know about Myung-bak cheating on me with Hee-mi. But you must understand that I'm going there to end things with him and I won't have mercy on him. So don't worry about it too much, okay? After all, I do know self defense thanks to Young-jae oppa." She says with a small smile on her face.

"Na-young ssi? Young-jae Hyung is on the phone for you!" Spoke Hae-il casually as he pointed at the boat's phone.

"Seonbae....tell him I'll call him later.....I'll see you guys another time. Have fun on the yacht! Take all the time you need, there's no hurry." She says with a small smile as she gets on her motorcycle and she drives away.

"Na-young!-"

"Enough Jae-seung. She has to finish this on her own. We can't meddle in this affair even if we want to tear Myung-bak apart." Replied Chang-woo firmly with a sigh as he and the others went to go eat.

Jae-seung could only watch Na-young drive away. He clenched his fists tightly as he turned to join the others for dinner.

I knew what I was expecting when I got home. But somehow watching it all unfold right in front of me hurt so much but all I felt was rage towards these two scumbags.

I slammed the door to our bedroom open in which they both jolted in surprise. Myung-bak was under the sheets of the bed towering over Hee-mi who continued to act all innocent.

"Na-young! Baby! I-Thought you were-" but before Myung-bak could finish his sentence I violently slapped him across the face once making sure that it hurt like a bitch and left a big red mark on his face.

"CUT THE BULLSHIT SONG MYUNG-BAK! PACK ALL OF YOUR STUFF! I WANT YOU OUT OF MY HOUSE NOW!" I bellowed with fury as I looked at him with rage.

Myung-bak grabbed at his face as he stared daggers at me for slapping him. "WHY YOU CONNIVING WENCH! HOW DARE YOU-"

"I TOLD YOU THERE WOULD BE DIRE CONSEQUENCES IF YOU EVER CHEATED ME! YOU VIOLATED THE CONTRACT AND FOR THAT YOU MUST PAY SEVERELY!" I continued to bellow with rage. Hee-mi only smiled in amusement as she was enjoying seeing us fight.

Myung-bak still looked at me with rage. And he acted as if he didn't remember our dating contract. "WHAT FUCKING CONTRACT!? I DON'T REMEMBER EVER SIGNING ONE!" feigned Myung-bak acting as if he didn't remember about the contract.

"You really want to play this game? Fine! Here's a copy of the contract that you signed. Look at line 5 of the contract you simpleton." I replied firmly as she threw him the contract.

Myung-bak grabbed the the papers and he reads line 5 out loud. "Line 5. If a so -called boyfriend becomes unfaithful to party one (Shin Na-young) or what they (party one) think is unfaithful, party two (Song Myung-bak) must collect his things and leave. But before party two (Song Myung-bak) can leave he must also return everything thing they took from party one (Shin Na-young) with or without permission, this includes treasured valuables, expensive items, money, etc. party two (Song Myung-bak) will also stop getting assistance from party one (Shin Na-young) and their family on party two's (Song Myung-bak's) company and will be shut down immediately due to party two's (Song Myung-bak's) Malevolent ambitions etc. Therefore, party two (Song Myung-bak) is no longer associated with party one (Shin Na-young) nor party one's (Shin Na-young’s) family. WHAT!? YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!-"

"I JUST FUCKING DID! FOR FIVE PAINSTAKING YEARS YOU'VE TREATED ME LIKE SHIT! YOU HAVE A LOT OF DEBT THAT YOU OWE ME...SINCE YOU HAVE A LOT OF FREE TIME YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO PAY ME BACK BY THE END OF THIS MONTH. IF YOU FAIL TO DO SO, YOU WILL BE HEARING FROM MY LAWYER AND YOU KNOW HOW MERCILESS YOUNG-HO OPPA IS AS A LAWYER ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU MESS WITH ME HIS LITTLE SISTER." I bellowed with fury as I stared at Myung-bak with a cold glare.

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME! IF IT WASN'T FOR ME! YOU WOULDN'T BE WHERE YOU ARE TODAY! YOU NEVER NOT ONCE PAID ATTE-"

"WHERE WERE YOU WHEN I WAS SICK FROM ANEMIA? WHERE WERE YOU WHEN I WAS STRUGGLING MENTALLY FROM MY DEPRESSION AND ANXIETY WITH ALL THE STRESS I HAD WITH MY OLD JOB? WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU WHEN I WAS DISCRIMINATED AND TREATED UNJUSTLY AT MY OLD JOB!? I WAS THE ONLY ONE TRYING IN THIS ONE-SIDED RELATIONSHIP! I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO REMEMBERED OUR ANNIVERSARIES! I TRIED TO SPICE UP OUR LIFE BUT YOU WERE TOO BUSY PLAYING FIND THE CANNOLI WITH THIS BITCH! WHEN YOU HAD SOMETHING ALWAYS TROUBLING YOU I WAS THERE! YOU MADE ME MISERABLE AND LIKE AN IDIOT I STILL LOVED YOU..... AND NOW LOOK AT WHAT I'M DOING RETURNING YOUR KARMA. DOESN'T FEEL GOOD BEING TREATED THE WAY YOU TREATED ME NOW DOES IT? THAT MUST SUCK FOR YOU. YOU HAVE 12 HOURS TO GET ALL YOUR THINGS AND GO BEFORE A DEMOLISHING COMPANY COMES AND DESTROYS THE HOUSE." I growled with fury as I continued to give him a cold indifferent glare.

"YOU RUINED EVERYTHING! I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS!" Growled Myung-bak as he then reached for my neck when suddenly he was thrown back to the wall crashing into it.

I turned around and saw my eldest brother Young-Jae breathing heavily with rage. Young-Jae oppa is an MMA fighter and he punched Myung-bak in the gut so hard that it knocked him out.

"O-OPPA!" I yelled with shock as I saw my eldest brother seething with rage.

"NO ONE LAYS A FUCKING FINGER ON MY BABY SISTER! ESPECIALLY A PATHETIC EXCUSE OF A MAN LIKE YOU! GRAAAAH!" Growled Young-jae as he charged towards Myung-bak grabbing him by his collar and punching him violently in the face.

As Young-jae was about to punch Myung-bak once more. I stepped in and grabbed onto Young-jae's arm trying my best to stop him from delivering the blow.

"OPPA! STOP! HE'S NOT WORTH IT! LET'S GO HOME! PLEASE!" I yelled desperately trying to calm him down.

Young-jae looked back at me as I gave him a pleading look and he sighed heavily in defeat. He drops Myung-bak on his bottom and then he turns to look at Hee-mi who continues to look on with a mocking smile throughout the whole ordeal. This enrages my elder brother even more but I step in with my back turned to him as I give Hee-mi an icy indifferent glare.

"Awe! What is it cousin Na-young? Are you angry because I keep ruining your relationships? It's not my fault they think you're nothing but an ugly potato and a worthless nobody. It's not my fault that I'm so beautiful and most wanted of all." Smirks Hee-mi smugly as she twirls a few strands of hair with her fingers.

"YAH!" Bellowed Young-jae with a wrathful expression.

I held up my hand to stop my older brother from trying to tear Hee-mi apart as I looked back at him with a death stare. Young-jae only sighed and nodded his head. I turned my attention back to Hee-mi.

"Kwak Hee-mi...you only ever brought me pain and I'm sick of it. To say I tolerate you is a vast overstatement. For 8 years you kept tormenting me and I still don't why but I won't let a cheap expired coupon like you try to bring me down again. The only reason I let you get this far is for more of the reason to expose you." I reply firmly as I now grab Hee-mi's hair and I pull her hair down in which Hee-mi begins to panic seeing how freakishly strong I am.

"This is my one and final warning that I'm giving you....back off before you really wreck yourself! And I'll tell you this right now, you keep this up and you're really going to see what I'm made of and I won't have mercy! You're the reason why the gene pool needs a lifeguard." I replied indifferently as I threw Hee-mi back violently to the wall. She looked terrified.

I then turned on my heel and walked away from the house. Young-jae glowered at Hee-mi as he began to smirk smugly. "Mind her words Kwak Hee-mi....She's not the old Na-young you used to know. If she wanted to.....she could have kicked your ass now but unlike you she's a classy woman." Young-jae laughs at Hee-mi in mockery.

Young-jae then turned his attention to Myung-bak. "And you asshole! You better do as my sister says! Return everything that belongs to her and I mean all of it! You got less than 12 hours or I will personally be the one to annihilate you! UNDERSTAND!" Growled Young-jae as he threatened Myung-bak.

Myung-bak only nodded his head frantically as he hurried to get everything ready. Young-jae only laughed and walked away. Hee-mi only glared daggers at him. "Damn you and Na-young! I'll get y'all back! You'll see!" Thought Hee-mi to herself as she slammed her fists on the bed.

___________________________________________

¹(senior colleagues or mentor figures.)

²(a form of saying Hey in Korean.)

³(Means older brother either by blood related or an older male in the group.)

⁴(commonly used honorific amongst people of equal speech level.)

⁵(Gopchang-gui grilled beef small intestines.)

⁶(kimchi Slightly spicy Korean sauerkraut made from fermented vegetables Napa Cabbage, Daikon Radish, and carrots.)

[sometimesraven]

Rewritten

Whumptober no.9, Alternative Prompt: Aftermath of Failure

Fandom: The Truth Saga (original novels) POV Character: Blade Silverwind Whumpee: Blade Silverwind

For those who are raised in the Facility, failure is not an option.

(Excerpt from the WIP of the novel Bitter Truth, part of the Truth Saga)

AO3 Link Ko-Fi Link

"Silverwind." The tone of the Controller's voice cut into Blade's chest, forcing a slight wince despite himself. The boss never raised his voice. His expression barely even changed from moment to moment, but there was a subtle shift in energy behind his words that made it very clear when he was disappointed -- and nothing good ever followed the Controller's disappointment. "Eight seconds slower than yesterday."

A dismissive gesture to the Handlers standing to attention nearby was all he offered before his back was turned, and Blade's throat squeezed as they approached him with expectant eyes. He didn't fight the inevitable, gaze to the floor to avoid his siblings' pitying looks as he followed Handler Macy to receive his punishment.

His heart pounded as they approached the blank wall hiding the Downstairs entrance, trying not to flinch at the grinding sound of gears and stone shifting as the panel slid open. He stared into the dark abyss as his Handler waited expectantly, his vision swimming as it always did at the sight of the endless stairs into nothingness. Closing his eyes for just a second, he recalled one of the Controller's earliest lessons, remembering the words in crisp detail as he did everything. Fear is a weapon. Use it against your enemies; don't let it become you.

This was necessary, he told himself as he descended the bare concrete steps. He had failed; he had been imperfect. This was the natural consequence. Even through the tremble in his hands he willed his stance and expression calm, quietly accepting whatever the Controller had planned for him.

Downstairs was a grim, silent place. Blade kept his face firmly forward in the dimly lit concrete corridor, ignoring as he always did the scratches and pieces of vine on the walls from his squadmate's struggling in the past. They had been wrong to fight the punishments and corrections they deserved. Nobody came down here unless they had failed the boss, and fighting would only make it worse.

Handler Macy led him into the second of the rooms on the left side of the hall -- the room he knew to be Surgery. This was where the majority of the Controller's work was done, and this was where Blade and his family knew they would always return to. He entered the room without a word, his footsteps shuffling across  the hard floor towards one of the metal beds within. The feeling of dread was only punctuated by the consistently chilled air down here and Blade, not for the first time, found himself grateful he wasn't down here nearly as much as Ryan or Evie were. He didn't know how they could keep acting out when this was what waited for them.

Blade allowed Handler Macy to attach the solid restraints around his wrists and ankles, feeling the rough, hard metal under his back as he stared at the grey above him in wait for his punishment. Even the white paint and tiles did not reach down here.

"Silverwind." It seemed like an age before he finally heard the Controller enter, his footsteps echoing across the floor before his scrutinising icy-blue eyes came into view, peering down at him with disappointment. "It has been some time since I've seen you down here."

Blade remained silent, guilt thick in his throat. He knew he was slipping up; he knew he was failing again. There was no excuse.

"I've come to expect a certain standard from you, Subject. You're getting sloppy -- remember your Purpose."

"Aye, sir." The Controller's disappointment tasted like blood on his tongue before the punishment had even began. "I'll do better."

"I hope so." His voice grew mournful, piercing a few extra layers of guilt into Blade's stomach. At this point the punishment would be a relief. "You know I hate to have to do this."

No further words were exchanged. Blade remained soundless and still as the Controller's rough hands examined him from top to toe, bruising everywhere he touched in search of imperfections or injuries. His scalpel felt like raw flame against the sensitive pattern of swirling blue energy under the skin of his back, tearing him in two just to examine how the wound glowed and the blood dried black. He was shifted and moved from position to uncomfortable position so many times he was sure he heard something snap; felt something else tear. He remained silent.

Then came the syringe. A new concoction every time, swirling dark in its tube. The moment the liquid touched his blood the skin around it burned. His veins pulsed and pinched, the pain spreading through his body until his sense of physical self was completely replaced by radiating, unbearable pain. He remained silent.

By the time he was carried back to the bedroom, Blade's bones were on fire and his heard jumped weakly in his chest like it couldn't find the energy to pump correctly. His vision twisted and doubled as he lay in bed, staring as the spinning, lurching ceiling danced in tribute to the concoctions searing through his veins, rewriting him from the inside out.

It wouldn't do anything. It never did. The corrections were supposed to enhance their power, to make them sharper and stronger, but no matter how many times they returned Downstairs nothing seemed to change -- at least not for him.

The burning faded after a few hours: the weightless, empty relief of pain leaving his body beginning to settle in. He moved an arm or a leg from time to time, just to feel the twinge of bruises that reminded him he was still alive. That was all that mattered. He was alive. He could keep trying. One day he would be perfect.

[minutiaewriter]

Heads Up, 7 Up

thanks so much for the tag @primroseprime2019 & @kellshaw and sorry i'm just now getting around to this

(but as usual, it's much more than seven lines. Enjoy the first sneak peek of Hera: To Touch the Heavens)

be sure to reblog to share your support/spread the word! Hera: To Touch the Heavens releases Spring of 2024!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:

The ship lurched and Rynn nearly fell.

     From where she sat in the copilot’s seat, Aome glanced over her shoulder at Rynn.

Yojackson steered the ship straight again and accelerated its speed. “See? We’re fine. I know what I’m doing.”

     “A little too well,” the priestess observed. “You really seem to know your way around this...cargo...ship.”

     Yojackson shrugged. “Remember when I said I wouldn’t know how well fern sells?”

     Aome’s lips parted. “You mean to tell me you’ve...”

     “It’s in the past, priestess.” He smirked. “It doesn’t sell like it used to, anyway.”

     Aome squinted at him. She pressed a button on the ship’s control panel and the entire craft began to hiss.

     Rynn furrowed his brow.

     “Heading into jump. ...Maybe.” She frowned.

     The ship’s hissing lessened and the stars and Arsteine blurred behind them.

     Yojackson leaned back into his chair. “I told you, the rickety old ones are the best.”

     Rynn turned to Kilderan. “But where are we headed now?”

     Kilderan gently pulled the sleeves of his coat and shirt up, revealing the drawing of Ormena. The black ink swirled in a muddled yet extraordinary pattern against his skin and veins. “We have to find this constellation.” He blinked and then pressed his lips into a firm line. “But I don’t know how. I think we should take a less-traveled route across the galaxy than everyone else, because that will make it harder to track us.”

     “We’re approaching Melerak, we’re going to pass it,” Aome announced.

     “All we have to go off of is that tattoo,” Yojackson pointed out. “We have absolutely no clue how to reach the spring.”

     “It’s at the edge of the galaxy—” Kilderan started.

     “But which edge?” Yojackson queried.

     Kilderan ran his fingers through his hair, all while fixing his blue-eyed gaze on Rynn.

     “Maybe—” Rynn started.

     But he was interrupted by the sound of groaning metal and the strong smell of smoke.

     A tremor ran through the ship and suddenly the lights flickered as it came to a halt, drifting in the void.

     The burnt smell increased.

     Yojackson glanced around, concerned, before leaping from the pilot’s seat.

     “What’s going on with the ship?” Aome asked.

     “Blast it.” Yojackson stared out the cockpit window before kneeling on the ground in front of the ship’s main control unit. He opened a panel Rynn had not even noticed at first, and began rummaging around inside it.

     He soon emerged with a smoke-covered face. “The blasted jump drive just blew itself out. We can’t go into jump anymore.”

     The pirate stood and furrowed his brow, returning to the pilot’s seat with a frustrated groan. “But I’d say we’re a little lucky. We’re right above Melerak.”

     “We can get the ship repaired, then,” Aome said with a relieved sigh.

     “How much time do we have until we’re out of fuel?” Kilderan asked.

     The already dim lights died down completely, and Rynn glanced around warily in the darkness. The floor seemed to tilt below him, and turbulence suddenly buffeted the ship. “Do you feel that?” he asked.

     “I’d say about now,” Yojackson said to Kilderan. “Hold on to something.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:

be sure to reblog to share your support/spread the word! Hera: To Touch the Heavens releases Spring of 2024!

[daddyd0nt]

I climb out the window of the pale pink bedroom that hasn’t been painted since Mom brought me into the world in a kiddy pool in the backyard. She’d sent you trick-or-treating up and down the street for valium later that night. I was never very well behaved, always stressed everybody around me out.

The streets of Sorlen are lined with identically-built one-story ranch houses, all occupied and in various stages of decay. Some have rotted away to skeletons, dripping roof shingles onto the brown scar in the grass where a garden should be, rain gutters hanging like broken limbs.

The smashed windows of some stare into the street like paranoid eyes. The missing front doors of others are replaced with bed sheets, which flutter on windy days and let you see into the mouth of the building where families are slowly being digested. Some can’t stomach what goes on inside, and vomit all of the furniture onto the golden grass, sofa cushions and folding chairs and checker tables crawling toward the safety of the curb, whole living rooms assembled just beyond the front porch.

The houses with kids in them are usually the best-looking, with week old sidewalk chalk artwork coloring the torn-up driveways and finger paint handprints smeared across the siding. The ones that are owned by lonely old ladies are usually either cobwebbed and falling apart, like Halloween mansions, or pathetically neat.

One across the street from my house is particularly sad. Mrs. D lives there. She’s got a flowerbed of origami tulips, which she colored by hand with half-melted crayons and held erect on popsicle stick stems, to replace her real garden. It’d withered away in the heat.

When I was a kid, she had real nice flowers. I walked across the street one day, and picked them all for my mom. I tied them together with a shoelace, and put them in a little glass tea-kettle on the kitchen table, and waited all day for her to get home and see them. When she finally did, she got the belt from off the hook in her bedroom, and screamed and shouted and tanned my ass for stealing them, and made me march across the street to Mrs. D and confess what I’d done to her garden.

I knocked on the door, crying until my little eyes were as red as the Devil’s dick and gave the flowers back while my mom apologized. Mrs. D was real nice about it. She said to make up for it I could help her plant new ones.

I went over every morning that week instead of watching Tom and Jerry and she made me iced tea from a can and told me stories about the carnival that used to come through the town back when you were just a baby.

They had clowns, she said.

They had a Ferris wheel and game booths, and a giant metal caterpillar that went around in a circle. And when the weekend was over the whole carnival folded up and turned into trucks and drove away down the highway.

They stopped coming the summer I was born, when the whole swings machine decided on its own that it was time to fold up again. Mrs. D said it fell in on itself sort of like an umbrella. She said that four people, all grown-ups, were killed right away when it toppled over and smashed through the caramel apple booth. Three fifth graders got thrown into the parking lot still attached to their swings. Will Stanton’s oldest brother said that when he and his friends rushed out to see if they were still alive, it looked like somebody had taken trash bags full of spaghetti-o’s and dropped them from a helicopter.

They had to clean the other ten people, the ones who weren’t lucky enough to get thrown, out of the gears of the ride once they managed to unfold it again. The families all went in on a cremation since everything was real mashed up and they couldn’t agree on which parts belonged to who.

She said that the carnival never came around again and neither did anybody else.

Later that night, when my dad got home, he yelled at me some more and told me I had to go to bed early. Then he took the belt and went into your room, because you should have been watching me closer and you shouldn’t have let mom get so upset while she was pregnant.

I put my ear up against the wall and listened.

Frankie stutters, I think, because we let Mom get so upset.

- "Little Heck" (coming to e-readers everywhere this summer)

[alecthewreck]

A Premise - Throneless and Thriving

Sevastian looked back over his shoulder just once as he fled his kingdom. No, not fled, deserted. He grit his teeth, curled his now ringless fingers together and slipped into the forests he knew so well. Sevastian followed the sun into the west and kept going until the familiar became the unknown, the mundane became the bewildering, home became…so much more.

After several weeks, Sevastian found it hard to keep the road's dust from his clothes, from his hair. It clung to everything, perpetually. But he didn't need to look fancy to make real change in the world. And that's just what he was going to do. With his butt stuck on a throne, he'd be as useless as his father - pen in hand, signing papers and never mixing with the folk of the world, never really seeing their problems.

Something like fire roiled in his gut, a burning passion to do more. And he followed that drive away from his six siblings, his mother and father, the castle in the small, well-to-do kingdom at the far end of the continent. He followed it into a rough looking town that just bled needy. Surely he could find someone here to help.

Surely someone so driven to do good wouldn't be so naive and trusting… After a few misplaced helping hands, Sevastian should have felt wary about the world, but his constant positive attitude and silver linings haven't faded. It's only a matter of time before he finds himself in some real trouble.

1/7/24

[icariathebard]

Call of the Arcane

A preview of the first book of The Arcane series.

The map room was exquisite… it was at the far end of the hall on the third floor in the north wing of the temple, and domed in crystalline glass. The center table held a map spanning its entirety, covering in detail not just Miderra, but Ondan, Aether and Naphal as well. A small portion circled in dark black ink was dedicated to Nok, but it didn’t need to be big, because any energies drawn toward the dimension of Nok were blurred by its very abstract existence. The golden tassels of the burgundy carpet, the gleaming paint on the polished pillars and the ancient artwork hanging on the walls all added to the air of regality and importance. All light was focused on the worn brown paper of the map, and its clean dark ink drawings. A crystal pendulum sat on the edge of the table, waiting as Kiste entered the room. Master Stenfield was hunched over the map already with Master Smoak, speaking in hushed tones. Kiste bowed. 

“Master Stenfield, Master Smoak.” 

“Master. Kistegard,” Master Smoak looked up with a patiently neutral expression. 

Since Kiste had been brought to the temple, Smoak had aged, with silver-white streaking his black hair and a cultivated goatee replacing his clean face. He was by no means old; especially since mages had a tendency to age differently, even human mages. He was now a member of the Table, the elite group of leaders for the Order Ignosi. Master Stenfield, the mage responsible for bringing Kiste in and saving her, was relatively unchanged by the decades that had elapsed since Kiste first met him. He was still older, he was still strange, his lips were still bent into a thin line.

“Where is your master, Kistegard, hm?” Stenfield asked without looking up. 

“His coat was, shall I say, tarnished. Last I saw of him he went off into the residential hall to redress.”

“Ah! Good. With how infectious as vampirism is in the blood, it’s good that he is changing…” Stenfield’s voice trailed off as he lifted a see-stone to one eye and peered at the map. "Here, child. What is it that you see?" 

He extended his hand, with the see-stone resting in his open palm. Gently, Kiste lifted it from his hand to her eye, and peered through it at the map. What appeared to be shifting splatters of paint stained the map, and a net of glittering white lines crossed the map every which way.

"I see auras, sir. And leylines." 

Stenfield clapped, and exclaimed, "Good! Then she is not blind. Is there anything else you see?" 

She peered through the see-stone for as much longer as she patiently could with no results, then she shook her head.

"Then, though not blind, she still cannot see."

"Do you see any different?" Kiste asked sharply, almost too sharply, before she caught herself. Stenfield suppressed a smile.

"No, not at all. Leylines and auras are exactly what I can see, and what Smoak can see, and what your master can see. But, we are not prophets."

"Do you think," Kiste started, "that propheticism is too often described as seeing when it is more similar to feeling?"

"Overworking my student, are we, Master Stenfield?" Valdar entered the room with a twirl of his staff.

"Just discussing the ins and outs of prophecy, Master Greymore." Stenfield smiled at Kiste, and though deep behind his eyes were too many thoughts to keep him present, it was a genuine attempt at amiability. 

Kiste returned the smile, before sharing it with Valdar and adding, "See-stones do no more for prophets than they do apprentices, it would seem." 

"I see. Then how about this?" 

Valdar dug into one of his pockets, and fished out something that, when held out to Kiste, looked like a necklace. At the end of a dark iron chain was a hollow disk graced with the embellishment of a wolf, or gargoyle. Regardless, the pendant bore the visage of a creature with teeth bared.

Note: I hold all rights to everything I write. Any use of the names, characters, and places in my writing will be reported as theft. Do not share without credit.

[squidinu]

totally super secret preview

[harriertail]

Warriors Graphic Novel images!!!

[cjselbybooks]

WIP Wednesday

Introduction of the Cecily’s siblings

—————————————————————————————–

           The doors creaked open and the visiting royals were ushered in. I’d never thought to imagine what Cecily’s family would look like, but the resemblance was obvious now that they were in front of my eyes.

           The oldest man- older than Bjorn if I had to wager a guess- walked with his head held high. He walked with the same confident presence that Silas often had. The air of a man that would one day become a King. He was announced as Prince Alexandre. His eyes- which took in everyone and everything and left the impression of having been measure and found wanting- were such a deep brown they were almost black. His shoulder-length hair was a darker blond than his sister’s and kept back from his handsome face by a tight ponytail at the base of his neck. He bowed shortly to his sister and then to Silas.

           The next was what I could only describe as what I imagined Cecily would have looked like if she were a young man. The same shade of brown to their eyes, the same golden curls- though his were cut rather short, the style of a soldier. The herald introduced him as Prince Claude.

           Then she walked in. Almost instantly I could fee my jealousy melt away into understanding. She was one of the single most lovely woman I’d ever laid eyes on. Her curls were caramel colored and haloed around her head, only reaching to about her shoulders. The same almost delicate features on Cecily’s face were present on her sister’s, but the gentler air that she gave off seemed to heighten that natural beauty in a way that Cecily lacked. Her eyes were a bright amber and seemed to have the faintest spark of mischief in them. Princess Dehlia dipped into a flawless curtsy despite the child she balanced on her hip.

[the-hollow-quill]

Chapter One

The New City was oddly comforting at night. Crowds of nightlife rats and criminals would fill the streets of the lower town in a sea of anonymity that Sera relished in. Masked, blurry faces passed without a second glance, the obnoxious neon signs promoting nightclubs shimmered off the wet pavement in the misting rain as she made her stop in the mouth of an alleyway.

Her job would be simple. Or, as simple as a solo assassination mission could possibly be when no one who could help her knew where she was or that she had taken this particular bit of revenge for herself. Sera knew Giulia would be pissed, could almost hear her older sister’s exasperated sigh from where she stood in the shadows, but Sera felt that there was some retaliation she deserved without her sister’s watching over her.

She believed that killing her target was one such moment. Scanning through the throng of people Sera pushed herself further into the wall, waiting. The man was supposed to walk through here, he always did. He made it too simple to catch him with his near ritualistic habits, but Sera wasn’t going to complain when he made it so easy for her.

It didn’t take long. The late-night marauders and aimless wandering drunks did nothing to conceal the nervous wreck that was the doctor. He was too tall—too skittish—and the rather plain thin face mask he wore stood out like the flashing billboards over their heads in comparison to the adorned metal and el-wire of the pedestrians around them.

What an idiot. Constantly looking over his shoulder like he doesn’t stand out like a beacon looking like that. Come on Jenkins, you should know better. Sera scoffed under her own black and silver metal mask and waited as he drew closer.

She pulled her hood tighter to her face as she slipped into the flow of bodies behind him, watching his eyes drift over her. This is far too simple, Sera thought. 

Pushing her way through the crowd Sera stalked closer to the doctor—Jenkins. She could see where he was trying to go and tried to calculate the distance. The black skyscraper loomed above them, the only building in this section of the New City devoid of light. There was no neon, advertising screens, or even atmosphere fans breaking up the walls of one-sided mirror glass that made up the sides of the building. 

In the daylight it appeared almost old-school, like the cities that had existed before the Collision War that Sera had seen in archived footage and their walls of glass that reflected the people that walked by. The difference was apparent at night when none of the lighting could be seen from the outside because of the one-sided cover to it.

Sera had always thought it was a clever trick, a sneaky way to keep people from prying into the activity going on within the building. It was expensive, as all things were, but it was clever. 

No one knew what the building was for, not even Sera or her team, but Jenkins was desperate to get to it which meant bad news for Sera if she couldn’t stop him in time. Looking through the crowds of masked people, Sera found another empty alleyway ahead of them and pushed her way closer.

She heard the moment that he noticed her, the quiet “Oh shit,” he whispered under his breath and the indignant shouts of wanderers being pushed out of his way as he tried to run toward the building through the throngs of people.

“Fuck.” Sera sighed, sliding herself through the path that Jenkins created as he shoved people out of the way. Someone turned and Sera ducked under their arm, feeling her hood slide off her head as their elbow connected with it. 

The alleyway was approaching quicker than she had hoped and Sera swore under her breath. Come here. You’re not going to get away from me this time.

If there was one thing that Sera could always count on, it was that panic made people clumsy. At the feeling of Sera’s hand resting on the middle of his back Jenkins tripped in his haste to avoid her and Sera took her opportunity, grasping the back of his neck and pulling him off to the side into the dank empty alleyway.

She dragged him farther in, tossing him against the wall and he wheezed painfully as the air was forced out of his lungs. “What are you doing here, Requiem?” he asked, Sera’s grip on his throat dragging the syllables out in a choked rasp.

Sera smiled behind her mask, catching the reflection of her shining eyes in his glasses. “I was looking for you, actually. Did you miss me, Jenkins?” she taunted, sliding the mask off her face to look at him properly.

Jenkins tried to pull himself out of her hands, stumbling back into the wall as Sera shoved him harder. “What do you want from me?”

“You haven’t guessed? God, you must not be as smart as I assumed you were. It’s just the usual questions, you see. You must’ve known one of us would show eventually, right? None of your friends at the lab warn you?” She shook her head, clicking her tongue as her short hair brushed against her jawline. It was a cheap shot, and Sera knew it. Jenkins, the doctor that was always too absorbed in his own work to pay attention to all the warning signs blaring around him. He’d been like that back in the Institute, and as he cringed Sera guessed that he hadn’t changed. A sarcastic laughed slipped out as she dropped her shoulders. “Wait, no, sorry, you couldn’t have known. How could you have? Otherwise, surely you would’ve changed your very particular schedule, wouldn’t you? You’re not that stupid.”

“The fuck do you want, Sera? I don’t have anything,” he wheezed, shaking. 

She tilted her head. “Don’t you?”

“Of course, I don’t! Why would I?”

“Don’t lie to me, Jenkins,” Sera warned, straightening up. She flexed her fingers one-by-one along his throat, her fingertips shining with her blue fire as it warmed his skin underneath. “You know how we Victims get when we’re lied to. We’re a bit…sensitive.”

“Victims?” He coughed, his neck reddening. “Is that really what you call yourselves?”

“What, don’t appreciate the moniker?” Sera spat, her hand tightening around his windpipe in a second, her veins shining with her power. “What would you prefer we call ourselves? The Blessed? The Altered? What one of your ridiculously self-righteous labels would you prefer we use?”

“Shit. It doesn’t matter, never mind!” Jenkins choked, his eyes shifting along the alley around them. People continued to walk by on the street, ignoring to the altercation happening. “Listen, I’m sorry, okay? Just-just tell me what it is you want from me.”

“Answers, Jenkins. I didn’t come here with the intention of killing you, but if you keep antagonizing me that will change quickly.” The hypocrisy of the lie wasn’t lost on Sera, but if the man wasn’t alive to hold it against her then, she didn’t think it would matter much longer. Killing him was just another part of the job. As far as Sera was concerned, adding his name to the list of her victims was worth it for everything he’d done to her and her friends.

He squirmed, tried to push her arm away from him as his eyes pleaded with her behind his glasses at the glimpse of safety. “I’ll tell you anything.”

Moron. “Good man. Where is the lab?”

“What? What lab?”

Sera rolled her eyes. “The lab, Jenkins. You know the one. I remember you there. Didn’t you have a particular favorite room?” she asked vaguely. She pointedly pushed into his stomach, tilting her head.

Jenkins laughed nervously. “Oh, that lab? It’s gone. It’s been gone for years, Sera, how did you not know this?” he asked, beginning to turn his head but stopping when the heat from her hands brushed his jaw. He hissed against the fire slowly burning him but didn’t dare protest, even as the rain turned to steam around them before it ever had the chance to touch the ground.

“Funny. For some reason I don’t believe you.” Sera palmed her knife, holding the tip of the blade to his sternum. “Besides, I have information that says otherwise, so stop playing dumb. If you won’t tell me where it is, you can at least confirm it still exists.” She pressed the cold metal into him for emphasis, pinpricks of blood seeping into the gray fabric of his shirt.

“Ow, shit! Fine! It’s still around, we just don’t use it much anymore.” Jenkins pushed harder at her forearm as the burning became unbearable. “For God’s sake will you loosen your grip? Little hard to answer if I can’t breathe, you know?”

“This is me playing nice, you’ll be fine,” she quipped as she loosened it slightly but pointed the knife up into his ribs. “Who is in charge?”

“It changes. Right now, we’re under a new guy’s jurisdiction.” Jenkins rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Typical ambitious sort with the arrogance to match. Everyone who’s had the clearance high enough to meet him personally—which isn’t me, by the way—” he added, pressing his palms to his chest, for emphasis, “say he’s nuts.”

Sera scoffed. “What does that mean? Aren’t you all?”

Jenkins shook his head. “I don’t know, I don’t work under him really. The others say he’s short-tempered, likes to take his frustrations out on whichever subject is his favorite at the time. Does it all with a smile on his face.” He shuddered. “He’s twisted, and if any of the rumors are true, not in the fun way.”

“The fun way?” Sera snarled, the alley lighting up with her power as flames began to dance along her fingers, crawling their way up her knife. “Do you qualify what you did to us as fun, Jenkins?” Operating tables and crying children holding broken limbs and metal protruding out of their skin flashed through Sera’s memory.

“Oh, come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that! No! Of course it wasn’t!” Jenkins cried, shaking his head as best as he could against her hands. He must’ve felt the faux safety she had promised disappearing as Sera seethed in front of him, remembering the same things she did. Cooperation be damned, he had been on the other side of her memories, one of her tormentors, and she wanted him dead. Just another name on her ever-growing list.

“You should really pick your words better,” Sera snapped, feeling the temperature rise around them with her anger. “I mean, you admitted you won’t have all the answers I need, and you can’t seem to keep your mouth shut and not piss me off. You’re really starting to outlive your usefulness and patience has never been my strong suit.”

Jenkins let out a pleading noise, desperately pushing at Sera’s arm as they lit up. “I’m sorry, alright? I’m just—”

“Following orders? Yeah, I am too. The difference is my boss doesn’t have me pumping children full of drugs that will permanently alter them. Yours do. Mine doesn’t tell me to cut kids open while they’re strapped down to metal tables and ignore them crying out for help as you replace their limbs with prosthetics. I mean, you have to make sure their bodies can handle the powers you force them to endure, right?” 

Jenkins paled at the mention of the children, and Sera dug her knife into his skin. “Don’t look so disgusted, you played a part in all this, Jenkins. You were fully aware of how young we all were. And my boss? She hates you more than I do.” A short, humorless laugh escaped passed Sera’s lips and Jenkins swallowed. “She wouldn’t blink if I told her that I killed you. You might not be useful to me, or your superiors, but you’re better off dead than still wandering around here “following orders”.”

“Please,” Jenkins pleaded, his gaze darting wildly around them until he settled on something at the end of the alley, his eyes widening.

Sera scoffed, “No,” and pushed her knife in and up and Jenkins gasped, a sickeningly wet sound as he choked on his own blood. It was impulsive, instinctual, but Sera didn’t think, didn’t care. She just wanted him gone. He pushed weakly at her arms, his eyes still franticly flashing between Sera and the rest of the alley for far too long before he finally stopped and slumped against her lifeless.

With a step, Sera backed away and dropped Jenkins’ body to the ground of the alleyway with a blank stare, her right hand coated in his blood. She grimaced at it, moving to wipe it away on his coat when she heard it. 

A shoe scraping against pavement, a horrified, muffled gasp. Sera’s head whipped up as a figure disappeared around the corner at the end of the alley. The exact spot Jenkins had been looking before she’d stabbed him.

“Oh, shit.” Sera took off down the alley and skidded to a halt at the end to look around the corner. Another long, empty corridor that opened into the bustling nightlife crowd Sera had been hunting in before. The figure was long gone into the anonymous sea, hidden away by pedestrians. 

Sera groaned. “Oh, Giulia is going to kill me.”

[kleinv01]

Can we have 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 AI? Please :)

://SYSTEM_MESSAGE_ANSWERED !

what do you mean? he's already 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂

(the only image i can think of rn)

[sometimesraven]

MS Ethereal Excerpts: Comfort

One from the Magiverse today! Brienne is a trans girl and has a great rapport with the eccentric alchemist who supplies her potions -- I wrote this scene to showcase that small part of her routine and worldbuild a little of the normalisation of being trans in this world!

“Brienne, welcome in my dear!” The alchemist, Barnaby, was an eccentric old man who had worked here for as long as Bri could remember. She had fond memories of coming here with dad for her prescription medication and getting a sweet treat or three when she was younger, and in all those years his crooked posture and warm smile that crinkled his eyes had always been a source of comfort for her. “The usual today?” “You make it sound like I’m coming for a drink,” she laughed, “But yes, this month’s estrogen supply, please.” “You drink it, do you not?” He chuckled, peering over the counter with bright blue eyes as he bent down to retrieve her prescription, “Can’t believe it’s been almost a year since you first asked for this.” “I can,” she laughed, taking the bottle concealed in a brown paper bag from him with a grimace, “The taste never gets better.”

-from House of Magi, Draft 2

[crazypossumman]

"Checkmate: The Killer's Game" Teaser!

"Notorious serial killer Damien Furr always has a plan. Typically, it's a plan involving bloodshed, murder, and vengeance. But, now, it also involves saving the world from the army of supernatural entities that want to see it destroyed. The last thing his plan requires is help. After hunting Damien for three years, Detective Drake Marshier never imagined that he'd have to work with the man he labored so hard to catch. All he wants is to see the madman exactly where he belongs: rotting behind bars. But when the world is at stake, he may have no choice but to put old hatreds aside and fight for the greater good."

Linked here are the first five chapters of my novel for free for anyone who is potentially interested in purchasing! You can purchase your eBook here (and don't forget to leave a review after reading ;)

[As the title may imply, this book includes sensitive topics including death, mentions of suicide, mentions of sexual abuse/childhood sexual abuse, torture, violence, and gore. Reader discretion is advised.]

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Pinned (Commissions) | Writing Masterlist | Kofi | Etsy  

[smgoetter]

Warrior Cats Hub on Instagram posted some new interior previews of the upcoming graphic novel!

I wanted to post the pages here as well. These spreads are some of me and Natalie's favorites in the book, and it's been fun seeing the reactions so far. Thanks, everyone!