C.A. McKinney
Bio
An aspiring table-top game designer and editor. C.A. McKinney has spent over a decade working on various roleplaying games and board games with an emphasis on player experience and ease of play. Oh, and she occasionally writes other things.
Stories (7)
Filter by community
Hunter's Moon
She could still smell him on her. That sweet, musky scent told her she was his. His to play with, his to mark, his to hunt but not tonight, tonight he was hers. She inhaled deeply, shivering at the thought of what he’d done to her—her skin tingling in anticipation even now—and what she would do to him when she caught him. It was still a few minutes away: sunset. It always set her teeth on edge these days.
By C.A. McKinney4 years ago in Fiction
To My Uncle,
To My Uncle, It’s been a long time—far too long—but I can still hear the words you told me and recall the lessons you taught me. You always wanted me to be better than our blood. You taught me the value of being honorable, compassionate, and understanding even in the face of the worst. I may not have lived up to everything you wanted me to be, but I hope I’ve made you proud.
By C.A. McKinney4 years ago in Families
We'll Make the Pain Go Away
The mayor said it was a freak explosion--some underground gas line. It was all over the news. The police went to investigate, so did the fire department, EMS, and these guys in black suits from the U.S. Department of the Interior or something but by then word had spread through town. It seemed off. Everything seemed off. But life--sadly--was meant to go on.
By C.A. McKinney4 years ago in Fiction
Diary
6.17.2027 I think. Not really sure at this point. It’s hard to keep track of the days now. I don’t know why I’m writing to you. It’s not like you can read this. Just makes me feel better--old coping mechanisms die hard, I guess. Maybe it’s the locket. I’ve been looking at it a lot recently. Either way, I’ve been thinking about you all the time recently. I can’t wait to see you again.
By C.A. McKinney5 years ago in Fiction
The Shadow at My Door
It came in the blizzard. A dark, twisted thing, shambling in the freezing cold and right to our door. All the lights had been out—not just ours mind you, but ALL the lights—for a time I had long lost track of but that did not stop it from clawing its way right up the driveway to rest at the foot of the stairs and stare right inside—like it knew we were there. But it could not. No, it could not possibly have known.
By C.A. McKinney5 years ago in Fiction
