Nicole Deviney
Bio
My sister says I'm haunted. Guess that's why they say "Write what you know". If I have to deal with it, dear reader, then so do you. I throw in the occasional sweet story, just for a palette cleanser...enjoy!
Stories (38)
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She must've fallen asleep and lost control, veering her rental car into the deep snowy ditch before going airborne, skidding over a thankfully frozen pond and into the dense forest just beyond. She lost track of how many times she rolled, her brain slamming into her skull back and forth until she was no longer conscious.
By Nicole Deviney4 years ago in Fiction
At the Top of the Maid's Staircase
Staying home from school was a luxury, and one I was not given too often. But on this occasion I would say I was quite ill, near death for sure. My mother wasn’t too happy when she pulled the thermometer from my mouth, the fever tipping just over 101 degrees. I’d certainly not be allowed to attend school. As she stood there over me waving the thermometer and grimacing with displeasure, she made a decision. Not wanting to miss out on her daily lunch mimosas and gossip fest with her friends to stay home with a feverish child, my mother decided that 11 years old would be the perfect time for me to learn how to fend for myself, plague and all.
By Nicole Deviney4 years ago in Horror
Never Trust An Angry Cheerleader
I just have to say, people in Texas can be quite horrible to outsiders. Especially someone like me who has never heard of FFA or Ag class. All I know is that my father uprooted us halfway through my high school career and dumped our family in the middle of the podunkiest town I’d ever seen.
By Nicole Deviney4 years ago in Fiction
You Are Beautiful
The heat stroke Emlyn had suffered caused more damage than she originally thought. The symptoms were mild at first: confusion, headache, flushed skin. She thought it was just a mild sunburn, but her skin was feverish and she fluctuated between sweating and feeling too dry. Maybe she'd trained too hard, pushed herself too hard.
By Nicole Deviney4 years ago in Humans
Old, New, Borrowed, and Blue
The cloth of the duvet ruffles with the fingers of her child, playfully walking up to the edge of the bed and resting his hands on his mother’s face. She doesn’t open her eyes, not just yet, she waits until the little boy cups her cheek and whispers her name. She smiles, eyes still closed, her grin spreading wider and wider as she hears the impatience in the child’s voice, urging her to look at him.
By Nicole Deviney4 years ago in Fiction
A Hint of Lavender
It was the barn of my dreams. Vast and old, the scent of hay and horses lingered in the air. I loved to visit it when we were in Kansas seeing my grandfather. The man was an old hat at farming, but none of his five children or grandchildren ever picked it up. But that didn't stop us from visiting every summer to help him with the same harvest he’d tended to alone for decades, never complaining, always working.
By Nicole Deviney5 years ago in Fiction
A Lamb Among Lions. First Place in Fairs Winds Challenge. Finalist in 2023 Vocal Writing Awards - Young Adult Fiction.
Her father kept her hair short, her face muddy and her clothes loose and dirty. He told her never to speak, never to make eye contact with the other men on the ship. If they ever found out she was a woman, there would be hell to pay.
By Nicole Deviney5 years ago in Wander
A Knight With Wine
Leaving work later than usual, Cayla hopped off the last step with more perk than she actually felt. She was terribly relieved she’d thought ahead and packed some toiletries and a clean pair of jeans in her backpack before rushing out the door this morning.
By Nicole Deviney5 years ago in Humans
