I have another short story instead of a snippet this week, because I still haven’t made a lot of progress on my stories. (I have made more progress on writing-related stuff, just not actual drafts.) This is something of a mish-mash of genres, but it’s primarily sci-fi/post-apocalyptic and it was a lot of fun to write. Enjoy. :)
Lately I haven’t written a lot as far as my novel goes, nor have I edited anything in the past week (that’s something I need to fix this week), but a friend of mine made a list of writing prompts and I’ve written a couple of short stories. I think my favorite is this first one, Sonder. Enjoy. :)
I walk against the crowd, shoulders slumped and collar up against the rain. I bump into someone every two seconds, but in a city like this no one cares. Unless they do. But I think those people are just having a bad day and need someone to yell at. That happens a lot in this city, I think. There’s a lot Continue reading “Short Story Sunday: Sonder”
I’ve still been working on short stories for this month’s collection (which unfortunately has been moved back to sometime between the 25th and 30th) and still didn’t have time to write a new short story for the blog, but I have the first short story of next month’s collection, The Mirror-Hunter Chronicles, which I describe as Disney meets A Series of Unfortunate Events. Enjoy. :)
Hello there. I’m Solem Anders, but most likely you only know me as “the man who sold Jack the magic beans.” While this is true, it’s hardly all I did in regard to the incident, and I do, in fact, have a name. That I merely sold Jack a bag of magic beans is a common misconception at this point, and only the first of quite a few. Now I’d like to set the record straight, if only for your entertainment. Continue reading “Short Story Sunday – Bag of Beans”
I’m afraid I didn’t have time this week to write a new short story for the blog, but here’s one that will be going in the upcoming short story collection I’m publishing (hopefully on the 20th). Enjoy. :)
Nya strode to the railing of the upper deck, her booted footsteps pounding on the wood. Waves lapped against the hull and a night breeze ruffled the feather in her hat. All eyes below turned to her. For a long moment there was silence.
“I have found a map to Peter Pan’s hideout,” she announced.
A great cheer went up from the crew. It was followed by questions like “where is it?” and “how far is it?” and “let’s take it!”
“All of your questions will be answered as we get there. Put on your hats and gloves. We raid Pan’s hideout tonight!” Continue reading “Short Story Sunday – Lost Girl”
Short Story Sundays are back! And with the announcement the whole readership rejoiced. Okay, likely not really, but a girl can dream, right? Yes, I’m back to doing Short Story Sundays, which I’m excited about. This one is shorter than usual, but I’m happy it’s going up, lol. Enjoy. :)
Kasslynn was thrust forward by two guards and stumbled, careful not to fall to her knees despite her bound hands. She kept her head up, making eye contact with the cold man on the throne before her, and tossed her long brown curls out of her face.
“Bow before the king,” one of the guards growled.
“I am a queen, and I will bow to no one. Certainly not to a king who adds a jewel to his crown for every royal life he ends.”
“Your rebellion will gain you nothing,” the king said, spinning one of his numerous rings around a finger. “You’ll merely be added to the collection. And apparently you’re behind the times if you still think I’m studding my crown. I graduated from that long ago.” He grinned and held up the hand he’d been fiddling with. “I have a ring missing a jewel, and I think an emerald will do quite nicely.” He gestured to the guards. “I’ve seen her. Take her to her room and make sure she doesn’t try anything. I’ll see her for dinner this evening.”
Something tickled at the back of Kasslynn’s mind as the guards seized her arms and led her out of the throne room into a small bedroom on the ground floor. She heard the door click locked behind her and took a seat on the linen-dressed bed. She set her tied hands in her lap and resolved to sit with her chin up until she was brought for dinner. She would not be using anything provided by King Julen. If she were to die in this castle, so be it, so long as it was not by his hand or the hand of one of his servants. She would die clinging to the last shred of dignity she had. Continue reading “Studded – Short Story Sunday”