Young Adult
Rebuild Team 2
Henry had built his room with tarps and bits and pieces of this and that. The colossal window was leaning inwards, held up by an assortment of garbage and boards, blown inward when the bomb pushed its murderous hellfire winds up and out. It was not ideal, but he said it was temporary until he figured out what to do with the window. She visited him most days. She should be helping with the rebuild, but her asthma prevented her from doing much considering everything in this quarter was still covered in thick ash.
By Lianne Giffin3 years ago in Fiction
Tales of London #5
Jenna had no choice. Jail, she wouldn’t even mind that much. She knew she was tough enough to last, and the thought of pissing off her father on a gigantic scale made her smile. But everyone sentenced for a crime committed by magic got also branded with a permanent Signum, cutting them off magic forever. It was a barbaric method, borderline fascist, but it did have results. Only, Jenna didn’t want to be a number in those statistics. She couldn’t imagine her life without magic: it was the only thing she was good at, the only thing she could always count on.
By John H. Knight3 years ago in Fiction
Withstand the Ridiculous
The Delaware Historical Connection had an idea. They wanted to see if there was an individual who knew the most about the state of Delaware. New Sweden University student Hollis Varner fit such a description. His skin looked black as tar but it was like the tar was on fire in his head. He wore a blue blazer with a red t-shirt and blue jeans and white sneakers. He looked like any other college kid but was still different. A mind afire with ideas and notions to succeed, he had majored in History and specialized in what happened in the Diamond State.
By Skyler Saunders3 years ago in Fiction
Tales of London #4
Robert had two more lessons to give after the one in the morning, and nothing but caffeine and sheer will led him through them. His arm was pulsing with pain where the shadow hound bit him, and that wasn't even the worst part: his brain felt itchy with frustration because he couldn't figure out what that dog actually was. He hated when he didn’t understand something. Especially about magic: it was supposed to be his thing, after all.
By John H. Knight3 years ago in Fiction
Homeless Kid to Millionaire
In the bustling streets of 16th-century London, a young homeless boy by the name of Jack roamed the streets, scavenging for scraps of food and trying to find a warm place to sleep at night. He had been orphaned at a young age and had been forced to fend for himself ever since.
By Mello.viibes3 years ago in Fiction








