akashasavage.blogspot.com
Akasha Savage: January 2011
http://akashasavage.blogspot.com/2011_01_01_archive.html
The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown." H.P.Lovecraft. Welcome to the Darkside. Join me, Akasha Savage, as I brave the deepest dungeons and scale the misty mountains to achieve my dream: to see my novel Bathory in print. I will take you by the hand and keep you beside me as I cross this uncharted territory. Let us step into the moonlit darkness together. Tuesday, 25 January 2011. Introducing Countess Erzsebet Bathory. My daug...
mazzz-in-leeds.com
mazzz-in-leeds.com » Blog Archive » Above Ground
http://mazzz-in-leeds.com/2010/09/above-ground
Keirit spent his sixteenth birthday doing what most boys did when they turned eight. His mother pleaded with him not to leave the Caves, but he was adamant. You can’t stop me any more, Mother. I have come of age now and no longer need your permission. You have forced me to stay underground for long enough. But I have been keeping you safe. The visions -. This summer was particularly fierce, said Tep. The ground was steaming for days after the Elders measured the sun to be at a safe distance. Told you, sa...
katdelrio.blogspot.com
Crooked Tales: July 2011
http://katdelrio.blogspot.com/2011_07_01_archive.html
Art, Writing, Opinion. Friday, July 22, 2011. A bird on fire streaks through desolate clouds that hang like sagging tits from a black-purple sky. Roll the joint between your fingers, man. Feel it? That’s some good shit now. Push the shaggy edges of limp brown hair behind my ears and take a hit. Puff, puff, pass. The flaming bird screams now—shrieks into the midnight moon. I rise to greet the Sirens’ call. The bird explodes into a million ashes in the shadow sky. Did you hear what I said, Son? He watched ...
katdelrio.blogspot.com
Crooked Tales: March 2011
http://katdelrio.blogspot.com/2011_03_01_archive.html
Art, Writing, Opinion. Wednesday, March 30, 2011. I liked the way his lips curled softly at the corners of his mouth. It made me thirsty for a drink from those lush lips. But I'd never tell him that. I slid the whip over the palm of my hand then gently slid it over his shoulder before slapping him sharply with it. He shivered and drew in steadying breath. I pulled him upright. "There, there Sweetheart. I would never hurt you. Would I? Friday, March 4, 2011. The Big Bad Wolf Likes Flowers. No Really he do...
kvtaylor.com
Overdue Update Time! | KV Taylor
http://kvtaylor.com/2014/11/14/overdue-update-time
Spec Fic and Nonsense. WELP if you have not yet gotten your copy of SUPERPOW, I highly recommend it for obvious reasons! Check it out. *narrowly avoids an urge to capslock the shit out of that*. ALSO, there are some really fabulous interviews with Superpow Authors at Milo James Fowler’s blog of awesome right now:. Alan Baxter talks “Autumn of the Greatest”. Louise Bohmer talks “Unsuper Translator”. William Vitka talks “Bruiser”. Something Like Real Life. 2 Responses to “Overdue Update Time! Northstarfan:...
missouririverwriter.blogspot.com
Missouri River Writer: Desert Treasure
http://missouririverwriter.blogspot.com/2010/07/fridayflash-desert-treasure.html
I Write Therefore I Am. Short Fiction by Mike Robertson. Tuesday, July 27, 2010. Diamonds were never her best friend. Too many complications attached, too much greed or bad karma or something floating around them. And you had to keep track of the damn things. 8221; She screamed. She started searching the floor of the car. But only a little. Then she backed up to . where? Posted by Mike Robertson. July 28, 2010 at 10:18 AM. I like the opening. July 28, 2010 at 10:23 AM. July 30, 2010 at 11:03 AM. What a w...
missouririverwriter.blogspot.com
Missouri River Writer: The Bubble
http://missouririverwriter.blogspot.com/2013/08/the-bubble.html
I Write Therefore I Am. Short Fiction by Mike Robertson. Tuesday, August 13, 2013. She floats within until she doesn't. Wet with the remains of memories. Of a day when trees sashayed double time. Lime in her glass of Pacifico. A reflection of the ocean in her eyes. The sound of wind in her hair. A wind so fair and dry to the touch. Of the arch of her back and I chugging. In the sand to keep up, wondering. Why she drips so with water of the sea. Fairy splashes that make sinkholes in sand. Facts of the Case.