Adventure
Almost a Daughter
“Would you still like me if I wasn’t a girl?” Her voice was so low he wasn’t sure he heard right so rather than answering right off, he just stared at her. She tossed her head to one side, sable hair storming over her shoulders, glanced back at him for a quick second, clear eyes blue and penetrating, then turned away. Not a girl? Jordyn sure looked a girl. His body responded to her whenever she was close to him the same way it did all girls. That involuntary stiffening, the want, that indecent want, a clawing need. And yet, and yet…
By Dan Glover4 years ago in Fiction
What a Reality
They were suited up in full battle armour, fighting aliens similarly suited up. They had to gain control of the alien ship in order to defeat them, but the aliens kept changing, adapting to the soldiers' fighting styles and weapons. They had to distract the aliens. So they focused their efforts at the front of the ship. All the aliens began to hoard there, leaving only a few sentries at random locations on the perimeter. One of the soldiers with stealth mode on his armour, engaged it and moved around to the rear where the entrance was. As their sentries swapped out for fresh troops, with his cloaking device turned on, he was easily able to slip onto the ship. Undetected, he caught the alien soldiers off-guard. When he killed the first one, the weapons components of the alien armour unexpectedly released from the alien suit. They then gravitated towards him, attached and adapted to his suit. What remained of the suit and the alien’s body then disintegrated and completely disappeared without a trace.
By Miffy Baker4 years ago in Fiction
Inheritors of the Ancients
Chapter 3 The Reluctant Shadow Phenton McNair was known for his brawn, his massive size, and his power. But he was no dullard, by any means. Training was more than a show of physical strength for him. It’s where he did his best thinking. The focus helped exercise his mind. He wasn’t all mass, he was charismatic and clever. The deadliest combination…both on and off the battlefield. But alas, he had yet to experience battle. Hence his constant training. At present, he trained alone, if you ignored the throng of villagers gathered along the edge of the training yard. Feigning as if he didn’t notice them was part of the ruse. The enjoyment. He had to be tactful. Thankfully, Lady Tamryn insisted on him training alone and did not accompany him today. She could always tell when his mind strayed. And she was keen to take advantage of those openings. She never let the opportunity slide to teach him a lesson. Let him know that he still had room to grow.
By Jonathan La'Frank Hairston4 years ago in Fiction
Reason First: Female Kicked by Policia!
One doesn’t need to know a lick of Spanish to process what went on in a place frequented by brown people. A young female started twerking on a police cruiser in a Hispanic neighborhood. Next thing she knew, a cop kicked her away from the vehicle with haste.
By Skyler Saunders4 years ago in Fiction
The Style of Time Travel
No one ever wants to look like a peasant. No matter how many times I insist the ensemble is simpler, less expensive, and honestly, less conspicuous on the other end, no one ever wants to look like a peasant. They don't get into this job to go around as peasants, or Russian serfs, urban poor in the twentieth century, the shudra in India. Every agent insists on knighthood, a noble line, merchant class at least. Who would talk to them, they think, if they were so lowly and homely? They shouldn't be talking to anyone is what I remind them, but they are the agents with the education and I'm only the costume designer with the experience. I've been in this job longer than many of these, essentially babies will live.
By Rajan Poudel 4 years ago in Fiction
The Sad, Sad Downside to Dying Of Dementia
Hi, y'all! I have to use the southern drawl and twang for my Wild West novel. There has been a slight delay in my progress in the name of travels and research, but I will continue typing the weekly installments as they come. I promise I have them written up to date, and will update you all where we left off. Stay tuned as we figure out what happens in this great Wild West ghost town as they continue to relive the same day for 300 years, and grow tired of their mere existence.
By Kristyn Loritsch4 years ago in Fiction
Locket of power
Running as swiftly and calculated as she could trying to make as little noise as possible Zakkiyah could hear the bloodhounds gaining on her. She glanced down to her side to see if it was still there. It was! The Golden handled Kamakura onyx plated Katana was still strapped to her side safe and secure. She bent the corner into a dimly lit alley. She could see the dingy green dumpster. At this point she was faced with the decision to hide hoping they’d pass by or keep running to get the locket embedded Katana to safety.
By Keisha Haywood4 years ago in Fiction
