Color didn’t seem to exist under a full moon. It bleached everything, drawing the color to the fathomless skies.
Shining gently, inexorably, it coaxed out details hidden in daylight’s harsh glare, turning the familiar world into a strange painting of sharp contrasts.
Drifting petals, bone white.
The gleam of a fox’s eye between the thick trunks of the forest that ...
Sarah ran through the rainy streets like her life depended on it.
Because it did.
If they caught her… it didn’t bear thinking of.
With a graceful leap, she caught the upper edge of an 8 foot wire fence and vaulted over, flipping into a somersault on the gritty wet asphalt before rolling to her feet and taking up her sprint again in one smooth motion. A dead-end brick wall at the back of an alle...
His wings cupped tighter, banking against a hot updraft that rose and swirled from the golden roofs beneath him, glaring in the blazing desert sun. Cupolas flashed past, pinnacles and lanced rooflines, balconies, gilded arches and stained glass.
Dry, warm air snatched at his clothes and cropped hair, whistling through the golden pinions of his wings while his black eyes flicked back and forth, sc...
She saw him first, standing like a sentinel, sword drawn and set, tip-to earth as he leaned on it for support. His armor and crimson surcoat were battered and smeared with dark stains and mud, his hair a tousled shock of black. She could see his hair, matted and filthy with blood, because his helmet, famed for its distinctive golden inlay and hawk-like visor, had been shattered off his face in the...
You’re beautiful, with your creamy, freckled skin, your red-gold hair spilling like a flame across the pillow, your eyelashes curling and thick against your cheeks, rosy with sleep.
I try not to wake you as I slip out of the sheets, gather up my pillow and a quilt before treading softly to the door.
I turn back, gazing on a vision of perfection, reluctant to leave.
There was another thud and a muffled grunt from the wall.
Cedric. Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to patch another hole in the wall.
The little weasel.
Correction: Giant weasel.
My name is Jenny, and my best friend is roughly 6’9”, rather furry, but good natured, and, if you don’t mind his inclination to shred the cushions to make himself a cozy burrow in the linen closet, he’s… nea...
Another fist-sized meteor of flames scorched overhead, making it necessary for Wren to drop behind a barrier and pancake herself against the floor again.
The floor, she had discovered, was cement. Cement is hard— a fact she’d always known, but never fully appreciated until now.
She had realized, from distant memories of childhood splats off her bike, that cement isn’t nec...
As a tantrum went, it was earsplitting, repugnant, infuriating.
As a distraction, it was sheer, unadulterated genius. Inspired, really.
Every face in the lobby turned to the crescendoing storm of hideous shrieks with identical looks of horror, and she could see the gleam of phantasm spankings in some of their eyes.
