#writer's sanctuary

[sing-in-me-oh-muse]

Sanctuary’s February 2025 Writing Challenge: Greek Love

Welcome to a brand new year of writing challenges on the Sanctuary Discord writing server! 

This February, we on the Sanctuary server are exploring different forms of love. The Greeks have eight words for seven different types of love:

eros - Eros is physical love or desire. Eros is the type of love that involves passion, lust, and/or romance.

philia - Philia is affectionate love involved in friendships.

agape - Agape is unconditional, sacrificial love.

storge - Storge is the natural love that family members have for one another.

mania - Mania is obsessive “love,” such as a stalker’s.

ludus - Ludus is playful, noncommittal love, like flirting. 

pragma - Pragma is practical love based on duty, obligation, or logic.

philautia - Self-love, meaning how a person views themselves and how they feel about their own body and mind.

(source: dictionary.com)

Your mission, should you accept it, is to write a fanfiction one-shot or original story about the start of something new by February 28th at 12:59 AM (PST).

Challenge Criteria

Length: 500+ words.

Fandom: Any.

Features: Any romantic or platonic pairing.

Deadline: 11:59 am PST February 28th, 2025 at 11:59 AM (PST).

Super Secret Prizes: Join the server to find out!

If you join the Sanctuary server, you’ll have access to a bingo card you can fill out to win the following prizes:

Digital Prize: ???

Physical prize: ???

Note: The physical prize requires an address or PO box. Adults only, please, and I *can* ship internationally!

Don’t forget to post your completed stories in the share-your-works channel on Sanctuary!

Happy writing! <3

[Image ID: A purple calendar labeled, “Sanctuary 2025 Events” in a swoopy font styled to look like handwriting flanked with two white and purple butterflies. The contents of each of the twelve squares are as follows:

January: Write a story about renewal or the start of something new.

February: Love. The Greeks have 8 words for 7 different types of love; fill out a bingo card with the 8!

March: Start or end your story with a hero losing their powers.

April: Your main character plans and enacts an elaborate prank on someone or has one enacted on them.

May: Write a story as a diary/journal entry about a secret or confession.

June: Write the origin story of a notorious villain.

July: Write a story titled and inspired by your favorite song.

August: AU: Write an Alternate Universe of your favorite canon.

September: Sequels. Write a follow-up to something you’ve already written.

October: Write a villain MC. Make us love them, make us sympathize and agree with them.

November: Drabbles. Write an exactly 100-word fanfiction every day of the month.

December: Write a story that hides something from the reader until the end.]

[autisticfanperson]

i spent like 30 minutes today trying to calculate how far away a couple of fictional islands are from each other so that my fic could be accurate. please guys, this fic is my baby.

[serenaoffaerun]

The Proust Effect

Screenshot and fiction by me, SerenaOfFaerun - please do not use for your own purposes.

Written for @bekilybi for the @bloodweavesanctuary's Fall Flash Exchange.

Prompt word: Sweaters

Relationships: Astarion/Gale (Bloodweave)

Tags: Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Domestic Fluff. Fluffity Fluff Fluff Flufferson. Established Relationship. One teensy mention of Cazador. Blink and you'll miss it. Sweet Astarion. Sweet Gale.

Words: 1.8K

Summary: Post-Netherbrain Astarion is reminiscing about times with Gale brought on by the scent in the wizard's sweater. The sweater that the vampire stole before his husband went out of town. After accepting the fact that he's going to just be sad and lonely until Gale returns, a mysterious portal appears in their kitchen...

Read it on AO3 here, or keep reading below the fold.

The Proust Effect

Sandalwood, lavender, and campfire.

Astarion breathed deeply, the purple fabric of Gale's favorite sweater bunched up around his neck and face, that scented blend filling his senses. He sighed as he gazed out of the sitting room window into the back yard. His rose bushes had finished blooming, the last of their petals littering the ground below. The handful of trees they had on their property were at their peak fall colors.

In the distance, the horizon was a swath of oranges, yellows, and reds, highlighted by the golden rays of the setting sun (which was fortunately on the other side of the tower). It reminded Astarion of a campfire. He closed his eyes and took another slow, deep breath as images flashed behind his eyes.

A campfire, surrounded by scared, tadpoled adventurers. Companions. Friends. His lover sitting next to him, hands on each others’ knees. Little moments where he’d bring Gale’s hand up to his lips to place a kiss on those battle-weary palms before holding it to the side of his chilled face. Even though he didn’t technically need breath, he’d take a deep inhale anyway, the lavender of his soap and the sandalwood that Gale used mingling together with the woody smoke and calming his nerves like his own personal aromatherapy. In those fireside evenings, fears were temporarily washed away by the wine, laughter, and love. Sometimes it was the only thing that kept them all going.

Another inhale conjured visions of fireballs thrown and enemies defeated. The side glances and smirks exchanged between lovers protecting each other on the battlefield. Checking on each other at the end of a skirmish, sweat and musk and relief filling the air as they’d embrace, grabbing stolen kisses to remind each other that they’d lived to fight another day.

Yet another memory caused his undead heart to ache. As Astarion breathed in again, he recalled sitting on a wooden bench, the same one that still sits in front of the rose bushes. He had watched Gale light the fire pit they'd built shortly after Astarion moved in. Due to his…condition…most of their outdoor time together was spent in the evenings. Putting in a fire pit barely required discussion. It was the perfect romantic addition to their yard.

They spent many nights around that campfire, but Astarion’s favorite ones involved snuggling up against each other, glasses of wine in hand, warming each other against the chill of the autumn evenings. They had bought each other the coziest of knit sweaters that first fall season. Astarion's was a deep, rich red with white embroidery around the neck, wrists, and waist, much resembling Gale's camp shirt from their adventures. Gale's sweater was a deep purple with golden stars scattered about in a streak across the front, winding around the bottom on the back. Many, many evenings in the fall and spring were spent out back wrapped in those gifts of warmth and love.

Astarion opened his eyes, still wrapped in the feel and the scent of that purple sweater that he'd snatched from Gale's wardrobe this morning. Between the fiery sunset and the smell of the sandalwood mingling with lavender and leftover campfire smoke from a week prior, the memories were so strong that he felt the ache in his chest rise into his throat. Unshed tears blurred his vision.

He missed his husband.

He missed Gale's strong, defined arms wrapped around his cold, undead chest, warming him with the force of his love alone. He missed the scratch of Gale's beard on his neck, especially over his long-worn bite scars from Cazador that Gale loved to cover up with kisses and nips and licks.

Astarion longed to hear the hums of contentment that he’d get from Gale when he let the wizard lay on his chest and snuggle. After a long day of teaching at the academy, Gale’s favorite place to be was curled up like a cat on top of Astarion on the couch, the vampire’s long, pale fingers carding through his hair and lightly scratching his scalp. If Astarion were being honest, it was his favorite place too.

Breathing in again, he curled tighter into himself and swallowed down the lump in his throat as he pictured Gale’s puppy dog eyes and charming smile. That smile was the fastest way to bring life to his dead, vampiric heart. It made Astarion feel safe. Comforted. Protected. But as his love was off at an educator's conference for a few more days, he'd have to make do with the coziness and warmth of the purple sweater.

He sighed and thought to himself, ‘Might as well get a glass of wine and settle in with a book for the evening.’ Taking one final inhale of that heartbreakingly familiar scent, Astarion stood up, smoothed the sweater out, and walked towards the kitchen.

The sound of magic fizzling in the air made his head snap towards the door. Small, glittering plumes of purple smoke came together and swirled into the shape of a portal, growing in size until a silhouette started stepping through. Thinking quickly, Astarion reached over to the kitchen counter, just steps away, and grabbed a large chopping knife. Wielding it like a dagger, something he had rarely done since the fight with the Netherbrain, he whipped back around in a fighting stance.

As the smoky magic cleared, however, the silhouette took on a very familiar frame. A human, long hair pulled back halfway in a bun, in teaching robes…

Gale froze mid-swipe as he was brushing off said robes. Looking up at the shocked face of his lover, he raised his eyebrows, sheepishly grinned, and said, “���H-hi Honey, I’m home?”

Without looking away, eyes as big as saucers, Astarion reached over and dropped the knife on the counter. “You idiot,” he breathed. “You almost gave me a heart attack! And I’m dead!!” The vampire clutched his chest dramatically, earning a hearty laugh from Gale.

“I’m so sorry, my love, I wanted to surprise you!” He opened his arms and started walking towards the kitchen. “Come here.”

As it dawned on him that Gale was actually home, mere feet from him, the lump in his throat came surging back. Tears once again welled up in his eyes as he laughed and threw his arms around his husband’s neck. Astarion held on for dear life, his emotions still raw from his scent-induced trip down memory lane. He leaned into the crook of his partner’s neck, nuzzled his nose into the brown and silver locks, and softly said “I missed you so much, darling.” It took everything he had not to let his voice break.

Gale wrapped his arms around Astarion’s back with equal ferocity, breathed in deeply, and sighed contentedly. “I missed you too, my star.”

He stood and rocked his vampire love gently from side to side for a moment before he heard a sniffle and a shaky breath. Pulling back and gently holding the sides of Astarion’s face, Gale saw the tears that streaked his cheeks. Wiping them away with his thumbs, brows knitted together, he asked, “Why the tears, my love?”

Astarion looked down, chuckled, shook his head and said, “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just an emotional sap today.” He sniffled again and fidgeted with the cuffs of the purple sweater, baggy around his slender wrists. “I had just been sitting here thinking of how much I missed you. I was remembering our…wait a minute.” His voice dropped for the last bit. He looked back up and cocked his head like a curious dog. “Why are you home? I thought your conference lasted all week!”

Gale shrugged and answered, “The presenter for the remaining lectures unfortunately had a death in the family and had to return home. While any one of us in attendance could have easily talked the others under the table with theories on educational practices, we all decided we valued some extra time off even more.” He pulled Astarion’s face in and kissed him gently before walking back over to the door to hang up his robes. “I almost forgot to go back to the inn to grab my things before rushing back here,” he added with a laugh.

Crossing his arms in front of him, Astarion leaned back against the counter, restraining himself from tackling his husband and taking him right there on the kitchen floor. Gale’s aching knees wouldn’t appreciate that, and the only thing on his mind right now was reacquainting his lover with their bed for what would have otherwise been the remainder of his time away.

He realized that Gale had looked up at him and was chuckling again. Astarion asked, “What’s so funny?”

“You’re wearing my sweater,” Gale answered as he worked at the buckles of his teaching robes.

“Like I said,” Astarion replied, “I missed you. Terribly. We haven’t been apart for longer than a day or two before and I needed to feel like you were close.”

Gale’s shoulders dropped and lip pouted slightly as he looked at his dear, sweet husband like he’d just said the most adorable thing in the world. The endearing vampire continued, “When I start to miss you, I grab this sweater and throw it on for a bit so I can breathe you in and it feels like you’re here. Besides, it keeps me warm, and I couldn’t find my sweater. You know, the red one you’d bought me at the same time. Did you send it to be laundered before you left? Why are you still laughing? What’s so funny about me wearing your sw…”

Astarion was once again at a loss for words. His slacked jaw slowly curved up into the biggest smile as he realized why his husband was so amused. After Gale hung up his robes, he turned back around, grinning so widely as he straightened his sweater. Rather, Astarion’s sweater. The deep red sweater with the white embroidery around the neck, wrists, and waist.

Chuckling and shaking his head, eyes glistening, Astarion walked towards him and said, “We are a couple of sentimental fools, aren’t we?”

Gale pulled his love in close by the waist and kissed him, deeply. Astarion let a few more thankful tears fall as he not only returned the kiss, but added an element of urgency. Their lips never left each other as they stumbled down the hall towards the comfort of their bed.

They would spend the rest of the week in that room, making love and snuggling in each others’ arms. Similarly, the arms of their sweaters would lay entangled with each other in a pile on the floor, the essences of their owners once again mingling into their own personal blend of scented comfort.

Thank you so much for reading!!

This is also baby's first AO3 post! I have a few more things to put up, but I'm waiting until I get a big project off my list so I can focus on them properly. Then, I have a SPREADSHEET full of writing prompts I've been challenged to write - all from BG3!

I plan on coming back and adding a drawing to this piece, as I intend to for MOST of my pieces. I just unfortunately ran out of time this week. Soon though!

You can follow progress of my other works and art pieces on Tumblr and on AO3 under SerenaOfFaerun.

If this fuzzy lil' comfort story made you smile, please leave a kudos (AO3), a like/reblog (Tumblr), and maybe even a comment! I hope it brought you joy 💜❤️

[theeccentricraven]

World Building in 5

Thank you again @kaylinalexanderbooks for the tags. I'm making this for this tag but couldn't remember if that was the original post I did my first Blood Cleaners post (because Tumblr posts don't have dates....) but because of this open tag here I can say this is for that 😎❤️

Rules: post 3-5 pictures that capture a setting in your world and tell us about it! Remember to cite your sources and include image IDs to make your post accessible!

I've done this before for The Blood Cleaners link 1 link 2

Now I'm doing this for Sanctuary Calling!

Sanctuary Calling is a YA Dystopia set in a future where human civilization lives on Mars, the moon, and space stations, but only a few live on earth. It all began when human civilization was collapsing as a worldwide economic depression caused the governments of many nations to fail. The remaining few who held power formed a world government called the World Council or WC for short. One of the first measures they passed was declaring earth a reservation or "sanctuary", ordering the whole human race to evacuate earth and live in space. The only humans allowed to live on earth were societies that didn't use modern technology - the Maasai, the Inuit, the Sami, various tribal societies, and the Old Order of the Amish.

Nari is an ingenious teenage girl who has lived in a biodome on Mars her whole life. Decades after the evacuation order and many generations living in space, some humans are forming a secret rebellion to earn the right to return to earth. Nari joins the rebels who infiltrate a way back to earth. The plan goes wrong when Nari crash lands near the ruins of Cleveland. She uses her ingenuity to craft a device that flies her south, where she finds an Amish community. Nari's life has turned upside down now that she's gone from her high-tech life on Mars to a quiet electricity-less Amish farm.

Source 1 | Source 2 | Source 3 | Source 4 | Source 5

Tagging: @ddgraywrites @gioiaalbanoart @happypup-kitcat24 @orphanheirs and OPEN ✨

[sarcasticsciencefictionwriter]

[howhow326]

Mutants I would like to see in the Storm Sanctuary ASAP

1. D.K. / Georgia Dakei

Mutation: Moisture Manipulation

2. Feint / Carmen Cruz

Mutation: Metamorph

3. Gentle / Nezhno Abidemi

Mutation: Muscle-Mass Expansion

4. Triage / Christopher Muse

Mutation: Life-Force Manipulation

5. Threnody / Melody Jacobs

Mutation: Necroplasmic Energy Vampire

[lou-wilham]

Sometimes a family is . . .

The crew of Sanctuary of the Lost are always a lot of fun to write, and not just because they're all so different. But also because they all work together so well.

BLURB:

Of Love & Ruin is the first book in a LGBTQ+ urban fantasy novel for fans of Hailey Turner's Soulbound series, and Ashley Shuttleworth's Hollow Star Saga.

Sometimes, love comes along at exactly the wrong time.

For over a hundred years, life for Ander and Mab has been a series of parties and adventures spanning the world over. Once the two finally decide to settle in Miami to open a nightclub, the last thing Ander expects is for the love spell he cast over a century ago to come back and bite him. The Fates seem to have a sense of humor when they lead Maximus Schields, son of Ander’s nemesis, through the club doors. Max, who is beautiful. Sweet. Kind. And part of an ongoing investigation concerning missing young women that leads the Sanctum directly to Ander.

As the tangled web of Miami’s underground draws tighter, Ander will be forced to face demons from his past in order to protect what he cares for most. Will Max and the rest of the Schields family task force find the true culprit and prove Ander’s innocence? Or is he forever destined to be shackled by the one he loves?

Grab the series

[eywaseclipse]

If anyone wants to get allegorical with me I wouldn’t hate that. Because right now all I can think about are the parallels between Neytiri and Lucifer becoming fallen angels….

Defeat, acceptance, then rage. (My favorite song!) lol (also read the tags too)

[sing-in-me-oh-muse]

Writer's Sanctuary June 2024 Writing Challenge

Writer's Sanctuary on Discord hosts monthly writing challenges to loosen everyone up and get those words flowing! Here's June's. :)

Your mission, should you accept, is to write a one shot based on one of the following quotes:

“Can I help you with that?”

“I’ll give you to a count of ten…”

“Worth its weight in gold”

“Not on my watch”

“No! My eyes!!!”

“You were never a scout”

“Not on my couch!”

“Have you ever considered that our story is enemies to lovers?”

Bonus points for using exact wording; you are allowed and encouraged to write to the spirit of the quote and not strictly the letter. Whatever inspires you first!

Length: Greater than 500 words.

Fandom: Any.

Features: Gen or any pairing.

Deadline: 11:59 am PST June 30th.

Don’t forget to post your completed fics in ⁠#share-your-works! Happy writing!

[waywardwritesstuff]

What if you home was also your prison?

What if you room was also your toomb?

What if your family where your tortures?

What if the place you were supposed to feel safest was the place you wished you never had to return to?

What if you left everytime you left you knew that eventually you had to come back?

What if on that day when you first tasted freedom you had run away like you planned?

What if you did it, where would you be now?

What if...

[soulinkpoetry]

Once it has found its safe place, then it can rest.

.

[purinna]

Ever since I can remember, when all fails, drowning in poetry never fails.

[theeccentricraven]

The 10th Day of Writemas🎅🤶🎄❄️⛄🔔

Welcome to another day of Writemas thanks to @agirlandherquill💚🤍❤️This is a tag game/writing challenge/writing prompt of her brilliant doing 🎶The rules of the tag game are here

For today's prompt I picked a lake. I decided to switch works and take advantage of this to write out a scene for my WIP Sanctuary Calling, another YA Dystopia. I realized this was the golden opportunity to write a key scene where my MC 14 year old Nari is stranded in the middle of Lake Erie on a mostly abandoned earth 😮This is the first time I started drafting for Sanctuary Calling as I was holding off drafting to first do some more research. I figured I might as well start here. This is not Chapter 1 but much further right after the Inciting Incident/Catalyst. If you're curious about the setting and what's going on, I have a post here on the world building and story of Sanctuary Calling.

_____________________________________________________

The lake is real. I shouldn’t be here. I sit in the shallow water of my raft, alone with only the pile of supplies. A sharp pain bites my leg. I don’t pay attention to the pain as I watch the escape pod sink into the dark waters along with the shuttle. There goes Etienne. I’m crying. I cry over someone who I knew for only a few hours who pretty much sacrificed himself for me. A stranger. People who truly know him, a mother and father with kin far away on Phobos, are mourning him without his body. To think that my parents could already be mourning me….

 I shake violently. I shiver. There is nothing but endless water surrounding me. The gray clouds hang low from above. I think about the classroom simulation where I sat in a shaky rowboat in the middle of a lake. The sunshine and green forests were beautiful, but motion sickness overwhelmed me. Back there, I only needed to ask the AI to turn off the simulation. I returned to the wide empty room and detached the nerve stimulators. Not here. I can’t just tell the AI to turn off everything around me. I’m so cold, I wrap my arms around myself. I can’t tell the AI to warm up the room. There was no room. The water below me is real. And it looks deep. The simulator would never drown me. I hug my life jacket.

At least my suit still functions.  

“Jin,” I say to my AI, “turn on the thermal unit.”

Instead of hearing Jin’s assuring alto voice, I hear static. My suit still works. The sleeves warm my limbs. I breathe out some relief as I slowly feel warmer inside. My heart is racing. How long will my suit last? The battery will run out. Imagining earth as the empty paradise of wilderness according to my studies, I see little hope in finding battery cells. There aren’t any solar panels on earth, are there? Then again, the Tenders need electricity whenever they make their annual drops on earth. 

My heart lifts for a moment. Could there be Tenders on earth now? Someone who could rescue me? My sinks again when I think of how Luana and her people must have picked a time of year when none of the WC would be on earth. Whatever she and her toadies plan to do.   

The pain nipping at my left leg, like little sharp thorns puncturing my calf, starts to get on my nerves. I look down. A long slimy black thing bites my calf. Apparently I hadn’t noticed a hitchhiker grasping me during my brief swim. I scream. It could be a humongous leech. I heard about them inhabiting some of earth’s murky fresh waters. Then again, the thing sinking its teeth into my leg is too big to be a leech. I grab its tail and pull. Its teeth dig deeper. I grab its head. I pull harder. I pry the little monster off, leaving a deep bite mark in the back of my calf. Its mouth resembles a suction cup with rows of sharp teeth. I toss it in the air. I never had that good of a throw, but I had to have tossed it at least a dozen meters. I look down at my bleeding calf. 

“Jin,” I say, “can you please initiate healing?” 

At this point, I feel I need to plea for Jin’s artificial life to keep going.

“Initiated,” says a fuzzy, static voice that at least proves Jin is running. For now. 

The back of my leg feels warmer as the healing starts. The nanobots in my suit speed up my body’s healing process. My skin gradually closes over the wounds. I feel better already. Then I also face the reality that if Jin stops working, I’ll have no way to heal if I get injured.

Assuming I get somewhere other than the middle of Lake Erie. 

“Jin, what was that thing? The thing that caused the wound?”

Jin came in broken. “Bite marks indicate you were bit by a sea lamprey.”

Sea lamprey. Sea lamprey.

I remember the classroom lessons and simulations where I interacted with animals from earth. There was freshwater life. Then there was ocean life.“What’s an ocean fish doing in the lake?”

Jin made beeping noises. “There is a large population here in Lake Erie. Historical archives say they are an invasive species. Their numbers likely skyrocketed when humans left earth.”

I don’t understand. “But the Tenders are supposed to care for the earth, including controlling the numbers of earth animals. I thought they were preventing invasive species from increasing their numbers.”

“I have no data on why the population in the lake is so high.” Jin sounded disappointed.

I have to move on. I’m bummed that the raft has no motor. At least I have the oars. Where to from here? 

“Jin, how could I get to the ruins of New York from here?”

A holographic image appears in front of me. A map shows my location, Lake Erie. The map draws a yellow line for the path and lists locations by their pre-Sanctuary names. I would have to go up the Erie canal, cross Lake Ontario, go up the Lawrence River, go down to Lake Champlain, and then down the Hudson River. It's more than 200 kilometers long.  

I put what muscle remains in my arms into pushing the oars. I peer at the horizon. I make out the outline of something in the distance. 

“Jin, what is directly south of me?”

I hear only static. If I lose Jin, I’m toast. Then the staticy voice speaks. 

“Directly south are the ruins of Cleveland.” Jin sounds oddly chirpy. 

“Are any of the Tenders present in the area?”

Jin makes some beeping noises. “I’m afraid I can’t tell. My data indicates that information is classified.”

“Classified?”

“The WC does not reveal their coordinates. They keep that classified to protect the Caretakers from intruders.”

“What does that mean?”

“If the exact locations of the WC Tenders were known, enemies could use that info to find weak spots without WC presence and make unauthorized returns to earth. This would endanger the Caretakers.”

Of course. The Tenders keep their locations secret so that Luana’s little rebel group or their adult masterminds couldn’t find them and isolate them. 

To have any hope of leaving this lake of death, I have to go somewhere. I could go up the mapped route of lakes and rivers to get to Luana’s group in New York (and give them a piece of my mind). But will I be any safer? Luana’s promises of revolution seem like a delusion now. I don’t care about her revolution. I just want to survive. Not knowing the Liberator’s plans and stations, I supposed more of their people could be in Cleveland. If not, could the Tenders or Peace Arms at least be there?

I don’t care if I get arrested and sent to a WC prison. If I need to do that to escape this lake of leech fish, I’ll take my chances. 

“Jin, show me the path to Cleveland.”  

________________________________________________________

Tagging!

@sunflowerrosy @furrywrit3r @wyked-ao3 @selenekallanwriter @drchenquill

@revenantlore @whatwewrotepodcast @jay-avian @constellationandcompendium @olivescales3

@ryns-ramblings @primroseprime2019 @illarian-rambling @kaylinalexanderbooks @kitty-is-writing

@kitkins13 @buffythevampirelover @willtheweaver @poethill @acmartin

@apolline-lucy @elizaellwrites @gioiaalbanoart @orphanheirs @pluppsauthor

@cowboybrunch @leahnardo-da-veggie @dandelion-jester @aalinaaaaaa @faeriecinna

@brynwrites @somethingclevermahogony @rickie-the-storyteller @raevenlywrites @winterandwords

@happypup-kitcat24 @the-golden-comet @ddgraywrites @autism-purgatory @mxxnwishes

@tildeathiwillwrite @screamingatanemptyroom @kbwritesstuff @spookyceph @pluto-murphy-writes

@talesofsorrowandofruin @kaylark @sleepywriter00 @americanfemcel @fairy-tales-of-yesterday

@inkednotebook @the-letterbox-archives @laureleavess @simonnebethel @forthesanityofsome

@melpomene-grey @creatrackers @stephtuckerauthor @theink-stainedfolk

@g0ttest0d @infinnative @little-peril-stories @lyneidas @late-to-the-fandom

and Open!

[r4d14t3lov3]

(unknown artist)

This is my contribution for the @marshal-huntress Kotaloy Sanctuary spring event:

[lou-wilham]

My co-author and I worked with @oblivionsdream to have her do up artwork of our characters from Sanctuary of the Lost and they are SO beautiful.

When I say Christis and I have lived with these characters rent free in our heads for probably close to a decade, I'm not joking. So to put pen to paper, and then to see an artist bring them to life in this way, means so much to both of us. And they truly did come out just how we imagined them!

Sometimes, love finds you anyway. Burned by her first love, Mab has spent the last several years content with her brother, their club, and her Miami beach front property. The last thing she wants, or needs, is for the arrow cast by Erotes—god of love—to rear its ugly head. But trouble disrupts Mab’s hard-earned peace in the form of a dead inanimi washed up on her private beach. Not wanting to disturb Ander and his newfound bliss, Mab calls the only person she can think of—Quintus Schields. Life for Quin used to be simple. Second in command to his brother Maximus, Quin has always been a hardworking and dedicated creature of few words. He wants nothing to do with the owners of Inferno or their drama. Especially with his new responsibilities as caregiver to an ignis youngling. So, when Mab Duchan asks for help, he has to decide if he wants to keep his world as is, or accept there might be more to life than he expected. As Miami’s criminal underground returns to sink its claws into them, Fate forces the four to face old demons, and question just what they’re willing to do for happiness.

GoodReads | Purchase

[crazymcwritesalot]

I haven't been very active here, or anywhere else lately... But, life update: After months of debating with my lovely partner about whether we should move or remain in our old flat to save money to buy one day... I moved two weeks ago (a mile from where I lived).

It's a lot of work these days, between renovating the old one and creating a home in the new one but one of the perks is... I have an office!

Right now it's messy and not functional as it serves as a place to put all the things we don't have a place for. But it's exciting.

It's been hard for me to write at home with no room to be alone and create, so I hope going forward I'll be able to get back to my former writing frenzy. I've missed that 😊.

I have had no time to answer your tags and lovely asks, but I've seen them and it warms my heart to know I haven't been forgotten yet ❤️

And now, my future office (there will be a park and a greenhouse right in front of the window in a few months) :