Series
The Diary of Mishelle Gold
It was a nice visit with Jack’s father Monday/Tuesday, we just got back today, about half an hour ago. Yes, it’s true. Jack is now the next Earl and his father has asked us to move into the family home. We can still keep our new place as a holiday home, but actually live in the big estate. I saw some of the staff whilst we were there — I have a lot to learn!!! Housekeeper, maids, butler, footmen, etc, etc. The library is at our disposal, so I’m going to have a look there. There's bound to be a few books on Domestic Servants.
By Ruth Elizabeth Stiff4 years ago in Fiction
Lord and Master of the Black Market Part 2-2
The Sentinels got into place quickly. Ramses leaned against the entrance dome of the hotel rooftop, hidden from the staircase, as the shadows on the roof fled from the bright moon—a waxing gibbous, not quite full but full enough that it cast plenty of silvery light. He turned his face up to the light. It was not the sun, merely its distant reflection, but it still felt good.
By Jessica Rumbold4 years ago in Fiction
Interstellar Journey
Kimberly began doodling on a piece of paper, content to be in her own, little world and oblivious of her surroundings. The other kids gushed about their recent bug collecting competition, excited by all their new critters. They were disappointed by the thunderstorm that prevented them from adding to their collection but shifted their focus to naming all the bugs they currently found.
By Jessica C.4 years ago in Fiction
Tale 3: The Flames of Change
The Flames of Change The scurry through the woods, that followed immediately, Senka would remember as only a blur of quick images; several scratches from thorns and branches, a slight tear in the sleeve of her white shirt, her scarf snared by a low stick that dragged it off her head, leaving it hanging from the knotted braid underneath her disheveled hair as she ran on in a panic; her dog racing by her side, his ears constantly pricked up and his head unnaturally raised, as if any moment they would come across something terrible; an awareness of her right hand pulling back the greenish scarf to the top of her scalp, her left arm reaching for a moment to help, and in this moment the feeling that the empty skin for water was weighing on her more than it ever had before when full. The instant when, breathless, but too frightened to notice her breathlessness, she stopped upon the exit from the forest and, in front of her, saw all that her family possessed. The small field her father toiled over everyday, and the path that led through the field to a small low house made up of a single large room where she had spent most of her life, with its floor of well-pressed earth and hearth in the middle. The moment in which the empty waterskin just dropped from her hand. The next moment in which she again began to run, this time directly to the raging fire devouring what just a short hour before she had called home.
By Nikola Stefan4 years ago in Fiction
