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spoldhamauthor · 7 months

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FREE Halloween Read! 'Night Duty'

If you would like a short, spooky read to get you in the mood for Halloween then here is your Free Read for 2023, courtesy of me! If you enjoy it, take a minute to let me know. Plenty of other free reads on my site too, plus links to all my books. Thanks and I hope you enjoy it. PS Cover art virtually created by NightCafe. https://www.spoldhamauthor.com/halloween-2023

“What do you reckon then? About those ghost walks Kenny was on about?”

Emma, despite her warm-looking coat, is hugging her arms tightly around herself. Every now and then she missteps, trying to walk in a straight line like a sober person.

Walking alongside her, she bumps into me as she weaves her way down the street. I have had a few pints myself, though I think I am surer of foot than her. I let her use me as a buffer as she walks. Better than letting her wander into the road.

Not that there is much traffic. It is late, dark, very cold and this is the quieter part of town. We have had a fun evening with friends, one of whom, Kenny, spent most of the night raving about a ghost walk he went on last weekend. He took a fair bit of ribbing over it, which strangely enough developed into a more serious conversation about the afterlife.

Emma thought it was interesting. After a few minutes I got up, talked to a few mates at the bar, then played a couple of games of pool. The drinks had gone down a little too easy. Before we knew it, we were being asked, politely, to leave.

“What about them?” I respond to Emma, just a little too slowly. I grimace and check my watch. 12.50 pm. I need my bed.

“We should go on one, that’s what I mean! You up for it?”

I shove my hands into my pockets, drop my head to hide my smile, “Not really Em, you know I don’t believe in all that stuff.”

“You should have stayed, listened to what Kenny was saying. I mean, he’s sceptical too, but some of the weird stuff that happened…” Her voice trails off, her words slurred. She is more drunk than I realised.

“If he believes any of the stuff that happened on a ghost walk then he’s not as sceptical as he claims. They use actors, you know! You don’t really buy into all that, do you?”

She looks at me, unwraps an arm to loop around my elbow. At least I can keep her a bit steadier now.

“Well I don’t know do I, Josh? I like to keep an open mind. I mean, nobody really knows anything for sure, do they? Anyway, it might be fun, actors or not. Halloween’s coming up. I reckon we should book a ghost walk.”

“Really? Can’t you get one of your friends to go with you?”

“Party pooper!” She calls me, retracting her hand to stuff into her own pocket, “Scaredy-cat!” She jibes. I refuse to rise to her only semi-playful taunting.

We walk on in silence, the scrape of her boot heels the only sound apart from the distant hum of light traffic.

I hold out an arm to stop her, “Hang on! Something’s not right here.”

“What do you mean, not right? Get out of the way Josh!” She pushes my arm aside but comes to a begrudging stop a little behind me.

“Where the hell are we?” I turn on the spot, looking around. There is absolutely no sound of cars on the road anymore. Now Emma has stopped walking there is not even her footfall to be heard. The night is eerily silent. We are in a part of town I have never seen before.

“What the hell?” I whisper, wondering why my own voice has become so hushed.

“What?” Emma demands, blinking to take in her surroundings, “Very funny Josh! No need to take the piss out of me, just because I said I fancied going on a ghost walk!”

“I’m not taking the piss Emma! Look! Look around you! Do you have any idea where we are?”

I suddenly feel a lot more sober. Emma seems to appreciate how serious I am. She turns on the spot, just as I did, looking around for a landmark she recognises. There is not one.

“What the hell?” She echoes me.

“Exactly!” I exclaim.

We both stand there like idiots for a minute.

“We just go back the way we came,” I say eventually, “come on, about turn.”

I put an arm round her shoulder. Unresisting, she begins walking with me. We take only a few steps before a mist begins to fall around us. Light at first, it soon becomes a thick fog. We halt our steps again.

“This isn’t right!” Emma declares, “There’s no fog in the forecast!”

I keep the thought that this is probably nothing to do with meteorology to myself. Why am I, self-professed sceptic, even thinking that?

“I have never seen fog as thick as this before.”

“I think it’s what ye olde-time Londoners would have called a pea-souper.” Emma informs me.

“Well, we are not ye olde-timers and we’re not in London either!” I do not know why I am starting to feel panicky, I only know that I am. I take a deep breath, not wanting Emma to see it.

Even drunk she can read me well, though she is sobering up a lot, too.

“It’s okay Josh, we keep walking regardless, right? I mean, what’s the worst that can happen? One of us falls off a kerb?”

“Or into the path of an oncoming car!”

“Any driver out in this would have fog lights on and be driving really slowly. I can’t see that happening Josh. Come on.”

She loops her arm round mine again, tugging me forward. Reluctantly, I follow.

“It’s gone a lot colder,” I shiver inside my jacket, pulling Emma in tighter.

“That’s what Kenny said happened on that ghost walk,” she tells me unhelpfully, “It went a lot colder and everyone started getting the chills out of nowhere.”

“Not the best time to be sharing that!” I snap.

She looks up at me and giggles, “You’re not really scared are you, Mister Sceptical Man?”

“Of course I’m not scared!” I feel my good mood evaporating, “I’m just confused, that’s all. I have never taken this wrong turning before. Don’t you think it’s weird? I mean there, look!”

Ahead of us the fog lifts a little, allowing a patch of yellow light to shine through enough to show us black railings, a cobbled road.

“Is that a gas lamp?” Emma stops dead, staring.

I follow her gaze. For the briefest moment I get a glimpse of a tall, black pole, with what could only be described as a Victorian gas lamp atop it. It burned a mellow orange-yellow; straight out of a Dickens novel.

“That’s impossible!” I hiss, “No way! There are no naked flame street lamps in town anymore, they’re long gone!”

“What’s happening?” Emma asks plaintively. I have no answer to give her so I just shrug.

“How should I know? You’re the paranormal expert, you tell me.”

“No need to get snarky with me, Josh! I’m not an expert. It’s probably not even paranormal! I mean, how could it be? It’s just some freak weather event. Global warming or something.”

“How does global warming conjure up a Victorian street scene?”

“I don’t know, do I? Don’t raise your voice to me!”

“Now then sir, madam. What seems to be the problem?”

Emma and I jump in unison. I mean, we literally jump, stepping abruptly backwards, thumping awkwardly into one another. The figure before us has a long, neat moustache, blending into sideburns. A heavy-looking helmet sits on his head, the strap under his chin. He has a dark cape thrown over his shoulders.

I do not know if it is the lingering effects of the alcohol or the continuously swirling mist, but I cannot see any firm edge to his being. It is as if his body is as nebulous as the fog around us.

For a second it envelopes him completely, covering us in such a chill that we cling together. When it parts once more, the lamp is out. With no light behind him the strange figure seems more sinister.

“Causing a public disturbance,” he says in a dry, aged voice, “I could run you in for that.” Menacingly he taps his wooden truncheon into the palm of his free hand.

My tongue feels as solid as stone, useless in my mouth. I am unable to utter a word. Absurdly, I want to tell this officer that we were not causing a disturbance. That it was just a tiff.

I cannot speak. Judging by Emma’s silence, neither can she.

A noise begins. The sound of hard wheels rattling upon an equally hard surface. It is accompanied by the clack of horse hooves. With a chill, I realise it is an approaching carriage.

“What the fu..?” I manage to blurt. The officer cuts me off with a curt warning.

“No such language in front of the young lady!” He admonishes.

I risk tearing my eyes away from this weird apparition to face Emma, “This has to be a wind up, right? Kenny, maybe?”

Her eyes are wide as she looks up at me, her head shaking ‘no’ before I have even finished the sentence.

“This is no joke, Joshua. I think you know that. This is no prank. This is real.”

She sounds sad, all her earlier enthusiasm at possibly encountering a ghost gone.

“This can’t be real!” I whisper urgently, even though the apparition is right there in front of us, listening to every word, “This is a trick of the mind, or the light; or both. This is not real, Emma!”

“Not real?” The officer says, stepping a fraction closer, “How much have you had to drink tonight, sir?”

I do not know what to do. How to respond. What to say to make this go away; to make it not be happening. So I resort to an old tactic. I get angry.

“Back off, pal!” I say, stepping forward, even though I dread the thought of actually touching this thing, “You don’t exist anymore! You’re not even real police!”

Immediately it becomes obvious that I have offended him. Part of me wants to laugh. How do you offend a ghost? Then I see that he is not going to take such an affront lightly. Expecting a blow from the truncheon, I raise a protective arm but all he does is go for the whistle attached by chain to his chest. He puts it to his lips and blows.

A piercing, flat sound like a tiny steam train whistle rents the air. It lingers overlong, the fog parting where the sound travels. When it stops, the silence feels like a weight on my chest. My flesh crawls when I hear the unmistakable heavy tread of boots on the ground.

“Did he just call for back up?”

“What the hell is happening?” Emma demands, fear evident, “Josh, what’s going on?”

She is clinging to my arm, pulling me back from the apparition. I let her. Suddenly, I feel we need to be far away from here.

I find Emma’s hand, grasp it in my own, begin running blindly. She runs with me, both of us stumbling and panting. I hear footsteps behind us, more whistles, the rattle of coach wheels behind them. They are on our tail. Urging Emma on, I pull her behind me when I feel her begin to slow. We cannot stop.

At last, the noise behind us lessens, falls further and further away. It takes a while for me to understand that the fog has lifted and we are back in the clear air again. The night is cold but I can see lights, electric lights, brightening the gloom.

Relief turns my legs to jelly. Emma’s hand feels heavy in mine. I turn to look at her, breathless but smiling, ready to talk with her about what we have just gone through together. This will be a story we will tell for a long time to come.

I feel my grin evaporate when I see that she is not running along behind me. I am holding her hand, yes. I have no idea when her feet betrayed her and she fell. She is lying on the pavement, her clothes bloodied and torn, her skin scraped and ruched. There is a wide graze down the right side of her face. Her eyes stare up at me, unseeing. She is dead.

I cannot let go of her hand. This cannot be real. She cannot be dead. She cannot be.

Sirens approach like banshees. I don’t care. Blue lights cycle in the air. I am still staring stupidly down at Emma when someone takes a firm grip on my shoulder.

“Hands behind your back!” A commanding voice demands of me. I hear it but I don’t understand it. A second hand grabs my other shoulder.

“Hands behind your back!” Another voice takes up the command, “Do not resist! Hands behind your back, now!”

They force Emma’s grip out of my hand, wrenching my arms backwards. I feel the cold metal cuffs snap into place. A paramedic has come, is bending over Emma, checking her vital signs.

I am being dragged away. I keep turning to look at Emma, watching the paramedics do their thing.

“It’s no good,” I say to no one, “it’s no good. She’s dead. She’s dead!”

“I must caution you that you do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court.” One of the arresting officers says, almost mechanically, “Do you understand?”

“No,” I shake my head violently, “No, I do not understand! I don’t understand any of this!”

“How much have you had to drink tonight, sir?”

A chill runs through my bones. How much have you had to drink tonight sir?

“What’s happening? Why are you lot here? I don’t get it!”

“We got several calls about a man dragging a young woman violently and pretty relentlessly along the street, that’s why we’re here mate! Now get in the car!”

“What? That’s not true!” I am aware my denial sounds weak. I remember Emma’s cold hand in mine.

“Well clearly it is true, isn’t it? Going by the evidence. Now get in the damned car!”

The evidence? My stomach drops at the thought of that. I sink into the vehicle, all the fight gone out of me.

“Where’s Emma?” I ask suddenly. The officer in the driver’s seat swivels, looks at me oddly, “Emma? Was that her name?”

“Yes, yes!” I am growing impatient, “Where is she?”

“Well she’s dead I’m afraid sir. I mean, you ought to know that…”

“No, no! Where is she? Have they got her in the ambulance yet? She’s not still lying on that pavement, is she? On that street?”

“I am afraid she is, yes. There’s a protocol to be followed in case of deaths like this…”

I cut him off, “Can’t they do it in the ambulance?” I know I am wailing now, “Get her off that street, for God’s sake. Get her off it! That should be part of some bloody ghost walk, never mind Kenny’s bloody graveyard!” I am babbling now.

Tears are streaming down my face so I cannot see the officers face, but I hear the confusion in his tired voice.

“Ghost walk? Station Road? What are you talking about?”

“Station Road? It’s a real street then? Station Road? As in train station?” I ask, sniffing constantly, my throat hoarse. My heart already knows the answer to that question.

“No, not train station. Police Station. One of the first in this area back in the day. But we haven’t picked you up for a history lesson. Unless you feel like telling us what happened here, I suggest you stop talking, mate.”

I sag back onto the seat, suddenly exhausted. Who in their right mind would ever believe what happened? They would blame the drink or something.

I look out of the window. Just beyond the busy paramedics still bent over Emma’s lifeless form, I make out the outline of an archaic policeman. His helmet and uniform are out of time, his moustache and sideburns eccentric. A veil of white mist swirls around him.

Even from this distance, through the window, he catches my eye. He taps the peak of his helmet as if in salute, turns on his heel, his cape swirling dramatically around his shoulders. He saunters away; for all the world pleased with a good job done well.

The soft yellow flame of an antique street lamp blossoms into life for the briefest of moments, welcoming the ghost into its circle of light.

Then they are gone, taking all the light with them.

S P Oldham

#horror #indie author #dark fiction #short stories #halloween reads #free reads #short story #ghosts

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foxys-fantasy-tales · 1 year

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Arigale Series Free Reading

Since around the release of the first book I have been sporadically dropping free side stories for some of the lesser developed characters. I still have two more planned, but book two has kept me busy enough for a while now. You can see my writing style, learn about some characters prior to the start of the main story, and glean some world-building with these shorts. You can find the free short stories for Arigale at these links: Judith’s Parents Short Story Abigail Short Story Jacob Short Story Illene Short Story Chinea Short Story Sheila Short Story (TBA) Drake Short Story (TBA)

Series info like worldview, character bios, synopsis, and more can be found HERE. Here is the synopsis for book one:

Judith and Chit are called to the lonely tower outside their city with little explanation. The one who summoned them is an old, elven wizard named Maleth, who will send them on a quest to lower their floating city of Arigale to where it once resided. Maleth is intrigued by Judith’s strange form of necromantic magic, yet he is also certain of the anxious young man in training to be a spear-man and scholar.

Judith, a bubbly yet mysterious young woman, is eager to accept. Chit remains withdrawn and cautious, a remnant of being raised by the Order that presides over their land. Soon, both discover their meeting with the wizard carried dire consequences. Can they accomplish what has been asked of them and save Arigale by exploring the land below, no matter the lengths they must go to?

You can also read the first five chapters of book one here on Tumblr for your convenience! Chapter One - Bonds Chapter Two - Blood Chapter Three - Beseeched Chapter Four - Brazen Chapter Five - Betwixt

If you like what you see the book is available as an ebook, paperback, and hardcover at these links on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Apple, Indiebound, and Kobo.

#arigale #free reads #writeblr #booklr #indie author #writers on tumblr #fantasy #boost

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freepassbound · 3 months

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I was tagged by @xgentlefdomx; um... I don't really know who amongst my mutuals is comfortable doing voice here? I guess I'll try tagging @cosmiclovebites, @localidiot-m, @theepoetspoem, and @skinreflectsthesun (or anyone else who wants to try).

#one take!#though I did write it out beforehand 😅#an interesting exercise #(hopefully not skimming for voices or something)#I didn't even listen to it 😅😅😅#so hopefully it picked everything up #have I done any vocal posts here before?#free talks #free reads #(I've thought about soliciting suggestions to read)#(one of the few points of ego I have)#(I've got a pretty good voice for readings)#(and I do them very well)

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owsalfa · 1 year

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This book by Catherine Lester is finally out! It's available to read via Bloomsbury OpenAccess! I'm also adding it to the archive.

I haven't had time to read it all yet, but I've done a quick skim read. Mostly focuses on the Original Film, with some mentions of the Netflix series, but no found mentions of the CiTV series. Some really good stuff in here!

#watership down #catherine lester #watership down book #book #open access book #free reads #academic book #animated violence #the film #the book

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theamaliad · 8 months

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TIS THE SEASON!

Get PLAYING TO WIN for FREE and enjoy back to school fall hijinks along with a frat house Halloween costume party with two of my fave characters, Kate and Sully!

Download your copy wherever you get ebooks!!

#amalia theresa #contemporary romance #romancereads #free reads #spooky season #halloween #romancelandia #romance books #romance #authors of tumblr #romance author

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chrisbannor · 1 month

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Elements of Change

Chapter Nine: The Fight

Author: Chris Bannor

Ezo crept behind Kammon, trying to imitate the man’s movements as they got closer to the raider’s camp. Above the trees, he spotted a flash of red that quickly disappeared. Ember had vanished but every so often she made herself seen in brief bursts of color. If he wasn’t looking for her, he wouldn’t have seen her at all.

The camp was two miles from the road and he could see a couple wagons on the outside of their camp. It was hard to see inside it, but the clearing was small enough that it couldn’t be a large group. They had an elementalist though and he and Kammon needed to keep an eye out for that. He could sense the elementalist somewhere, but that meant if the other was looking, they could sense Ezo and Kammon as well.

Kammon stopped and motioned Ezo to his side. “I’ll go in first. Watch my back,” he whispered.

“What if you need help in there?”

Kammon glared. “This isn’t my first battle, Ezo. It is yours though. You might be good with a natural disaster, but you haven’t fought anything that fights back.”

Ezo wanted to argue, but Kammon had it right. He was inexperienced. He let Kammon take the lead, but he wasn’t going to be far behind him. He nodded.

Kammon’s eyes thinned, like he was waiting for Ezo to argue, then he huffed. “Just do as I say.” Kammon stayed crouched along the tree line and moved closer.

As they approached, Ezo could see that the wagons created a wall around their camp. He caught Kammon’s hand and stopped him. He recognized the wagon he’d been traveling in. It was Alvrey’s.

Kammon’s brows furrowed as he looked at Ezo. Ezo pointed to the wagon. Kammon mouthed the word “Yours?” and Ezo nodded. Kammon’s mouth turned down and his frown softened to something more like sympathy. Ezo didn’t see the other wagons from the players though and that had to mean something, right? He refused to think the raiders had killed his friends. Until he found proof, he would keep looking.

Kammon gave him a minute, but as they continued to look at each other, the elementalist nodded at him with a question in his eyes. Ezo returned the nod. He was ready.

Kammon closed in on the opening in the wagons and Ezo stayed behind him, giving him space to work. Ezo watched the red spiral of flames circle around him as he stood up straight and walked into the camp.

There were loud shouts from inside and Ezo saw Kammon pull air around him. It jumped from Kammon’s hands in a large blast. At the same time, he felt magic behind him. He turned, bringing a shield of earth up between him and the magic. It broke on the wall of earth, and Ezo sidestepped it to see what was coming for him. The elementalist that had joined the raiders was juggling the white-blue spheres of air around him as he prepared another attack.

Ezo didn’t wait. He ran, closing the distance between them, and used his magic to pick up the earth around him, throwing it in darts at the other man. He dodged, but more than one hit his extremities. Ezo saw blood welling on more than one spot but he didn’t have time for remorse. He reached the man and cocked his fist back, striking him square in the nose. The man stumbled back and swiped out with a wild burst of air that pushed Ezo back.

Ezo dug his hands into the ground and it started to shake where the man was standing. He struggled to get his footing, but Ezo didn’t give him time. He pulled a block of earth from the ground and aimed it at the man’s head. It hit with a heavy thunk and the man fell unconscious to the ground.

Ezo built another block of earth around him, pinning him to the ground in case he woke.

When he looked behind him, he froze.

There wasn’t one elementalist with the raiders. There were four, and three of them were attacking Kammon. The man’s magic whirled around him in feats that Ezo couldn’t begin to understand. Fire danced among water and air pushed at his enemies. Kammon wasn’t just holding his own, he was winning.

But it couldn’t last. Ezo could still feel the echoes of him from their first bonding. He didn’t have the stamina to keep up this fight.

Ezo couldn’t take his place, couldn’t even understand how Kammon was using the elements as he was, but he could give him the power he needed to fight.

He ran forward, pulling his gloves off as he screamed Kammon’s name so he didn’t startle the man into attacking him. He pressed a hand against Kammon’s back to brace himself and used the other to touch the nape of the man’s neck. As soon as his magic touched the bare skin, he felt the bond flare between them again.

He pushed his magic into Kammon and felt the other man accept the magic, felt the pull as their strength combined and Kammon fought off the other elementalists. He wasn’t aware of how Kammon used the elements separately but at the same time, he instinctively reached for them with Kammon’s consciousness to guide him.

One of the elementalists was caught in a sphere of water. Ezo’s horror was distanced by Kammon’s need to contain his enemies. As the man passed out, the water broke around him and reformed, digging into the earth below another, turning it into sludge that caused the man to stumble as he tried to cast his magic.

Fire continued to rage against the third elementalist. He was the strongest, holding off Kammon’s attacks. As the other elementalist fell into the mud, Ezo tried to call out to Kammon, but he had no voice. Instead, Kammon seemed to feel his urgency and earth surrounded the man, crushing him into the ground until he stopped moving.

With the others out of the fight, Kammon turned his full attention to the last elementalist. It was a fight of strength and stamina. The other man wasn’t near as strong as Kammon, but Kammon was worn from the battle while the raider had saved his strength until now.

He felt something moving in Kammon but didn’t understand what it was. Then, as he looked around Kammon’s body to the other elementalist, he saw it. A streak of red and gold as Ember flew from her perch above the fight. She dove from behind the other man and Ezo saw the moment she became an arrow, piercing the man’s chest and emerging on the other side.

The man fell and Ember disappeared in a spray of blood.

Kammon stumbled and Ezo lost contact with him. The man fell to his knees and Ezo barely kept his own feet as the bond was released. He felt bile rise in his throat, but he swallowed it down as he grabbed Kammon’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Kammon nodded and brushed his hand away, but he didn’t get up. Ezo walked away from him and stepped properly into the raider’s camp. There were three men on the ground, weapons fallen into the pools of blood that surrounded them. There was no one else there. He lumbered over to Alvrey’s wagon and opened the door of the cabin area. It was empty and he was torn between relief that they weren’t there, and fear of what had happened to them on the road.

He closed his eyes, but everything hit at once, and he staggered to the corner and held himself upright on the wagon as his stomach emptied.

He sat heavily on the wagon’s footboard and took a deep breath. He told Kammon he’d do what he had to, but he’d never really believed the raiders would fight like that.

A canteen was placed in his hand and he looked up at Kammon. He hadn’t heard the other man approach. He looked pale and Ezo saw the tremor in his hand as he handed the water over, but he was upright. “Are you okay?” he echoed Ezo’s earlier words.

He took a drink before he answered. “I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry it came to this.”

“What happened to them?” he asked, pointing to the other bodies.

“When I stepped in I realized there was more than one elementalist. I didn’t have time to do anything else. I used a blast of air to knock them all to the ground. The blast killed the raiders, except the elementalists that managed to shield themselves.”

“You didn’t try to subdue them. Just kill.”

“Should I have waited for one of them to stick a knife in me while I fought off three elementalists? Knowing you were fighting a fourth behind me?” He scoffed at the idea. “I don’t want to kill, but I will not risk my life for murdering raiders. They won’t harm the locals any longer, and that’s what I came here to do.”

Ezo wasn’t even sure he could argue. When he was bonded to Kammon, it had been a fight for survival. He didn’t blame the man. He just never wanted to see this side of a fight before.

“Your friends?” Kammon asked as he sat on the other side of the footboard.

“Not here.”

“Was this the most ornate of their wagons?”

“No,” Ezo said as he looked up at it. “In fact, this was the most basic. Alvrey’s wagon was for healing, not for the show. Why would they have taken this and not the others?”

Kammon looked behind him and peered through the door. “There doesn’t seem to be any damage done to it either. I think we still need to find your friends. They may still be ahead of us on the road.”

“You think so?”

“I think the wagon would have more damage if there was a fight. We’ll rest tonight and pack what we can into the wagon, then take it to the next village, along with the surviving raiders. Hopefully, we’ll meet your friends on the road.”

“Alright.”

“Do you know any of these herbs?” Kammon asked as he climbed into Alvrey’s wagon. “Would any of them knock our prisoners out?”

Ezo nodded. “I know how to make a sleep tonic that should do it.”

“You start on that and I’ll start cleaning up the camp.”

He knew what that meant and he grabbed his hand before he could walk away. Kammon looked at the hand on his and slowly met Ezo’s eyes. “And later you’ll be explaining that.”

He swallowed against a tight throat but ignored Kammon’s words. “Can you do what you need alone?”

Kammon looked away, staring at the ground before he answered. “No. The bond is strong enough to stay open without touch right now. Will you allow it?”

It was another thing his uncle said was impossible. “How?”

Kammon looked at him then and pressed his hands together in front of his chest. As the magic came to Kammon, it reached toward him. Ezo held his hands out in the same manner and pulled his own magic around him. He met the faltering wisps of Kammon’s magic with his own. He felt the bonding then and let out a deep breath.

Kammon lowered his head as he spoke. “Thank you.” He walked off before Ezo could respond.

He felt Kammon in the back of his head though, and in his soul, like a ghost hiding in Ezo’s mind. He looked down at his hand and thought of all the impossible things Jacob had spoken of. Of all the things Kammon was showing him to be untrue.

He didn’t want to have that conversation, but after everything else, he owed Kammon the truth.

Even if Jacob had warned that the truth in the wrong hands could cost him his life.

Author's Note: If Kammon is strong enough to talk all those men on when he's exhausted, what do you think he's capable of when he's at full strength?

#elements of change #mm fantasy #chris bannor #lgbt fiction #lgbt fantasy #free reads

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dracoqueen22 · 2 months

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Chapters: 3/13 Fandom: Original Work Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Tyrael Ashborne, Celeste Stiel, Rathi of the Cinders, Tempest Teapot, Dakota Sorrel, Nym Tattersail, Sinoun Sunblood, Easton | Riordan Shaye, Original Characters, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s) Additional Tags: Original Character(s), Fantasy, Fantasy Typical Violence, Characters of color, Queer Characters, Queer Cast - Freeform, Dungeon Crawl, Tethers Universe, Adult Language, Sexual Content, Vampires, Blood Drinking, Sexual Tension Series: Part 1 of Tethers - Main Story Summary:

Arc One: Paths cross as our intrepid heroes meet and embark on a slightly less than epic adventure.

Chapter Three: In which Tyrael makes a choice, Celeste and Nym go shopping, Dakota and Tempest discuss their next moves, and Easton finally gets a drink.

#Tethers Universe #What Lies Beneath #Original Fiction #Fantasy fiction #queer fiction #free reads #draco writes original fic #poc fiction

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archerkayleah · 1 year

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My Current Patreon Stories & Updates!

Updates!! What I'm working on & what's available on my Patreon! Princes and magical harps... unicorn shifters and family drama... secret magic and murder... You know, the normal. 😅🧐

It’s been awhile since my last author updates here on the blog, so I figured it’d be a great time to touch on what I’ve been up to! Last year, Fate in Suspension made it out into the world as a published book, and it’s done pretty well. It’s the first new book I’ve put out in the last few years, and it was a really fun project! Then again, the stories that hit from out of the blue often are…

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stfuattclagg · 10 months

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HIS GOODPUCK CHARM : A hockey player x doctor romance

CHAPTER 1

The air hung thick with the stench of alcohol and despair, a daily reminder that this was Ana’s reality- an endless, bitter cycle of broken days.

Beer bottles and lottery tickets were scattered across the floor like a haphazard mosaic around her drunken father’s armchair.

The familiar dark thoughts crept up again as she filled another trash bag, the litany of ways she could end her suffering for good. A fistful of the pills from the medicine cabinet or maybe a rope tied to one of the ceiling fan blades. She contemplated whether the rope would hold up or snap, causing her to fall with a snapping thud.

What a terrible way to die- not the hanging, but the fall.

Who would mourn for her if she died? Certainly not her father. Despite hoping, he loved her somewhere beneath the tangle of his addiction.

Her brother would miss her. He was only thirteen. She couldn’t leave him; even with their shattered family, it remained her responsibility to protect him. Someone had to hold on to the wreckage of their sad excuse for a life, much as she yearned at times to let it go. She stayed- existing, not living, and warding off the darkness as best she could.

“Shit. It’s morning.” Her father’s voice tore into her thoughts. “Why didn’t you wake me? I can’t be late. Have you seen my lucky socks?”

“Err… no.”

“I got some money and I know if I have those socks, I’ll win big,” he muttered to himself, annoyed as he looked back at her. “What are you doing today? Just being lazy at home?” he hissed.

“I was thinking of looking for a job today.” Her words came out like a stutter.

“What about that waitress job? At least that brought in some cash.”

She no longer felt comfortable serving drinks to middle-aged men, who never kept their hands to themselves. “I quit last week.”

“Stupid. You could have studied a real profession. Be a real doctor or nurse. That way I could see the benefits of you going to college, but what do we have to show for it? Nothing but debts and more debts.”

Of course, he blamed her schooling for their debts, never realizing it was his gambling that caused the problem. He conveniently forgot that Ana had paid for most of the tuition fees, including those of her brother Danny.

Besides, she was a real doctor. She just had to find a job that matched her degree as a physiotherapist, in order to alleviate their financial burden.

They probably would have been homeless too if they hadn't lived in her late grandmother’s house, which was why the house screamed of old age and in dire need of renovation.

With a deep sigh, Ana set to work. She grabbed a trash bag from the kitchen and began to pick up the empty bottles, wincing at the sound of clinking glass. The task was a familiar one - she had done it so many times before that it became almost automatic.

“I paid to feed you, clothe you and what do I get?” He bent down and fished out a small pair of socks from the bottom of his laundry basket. One of which had a large hole in the sole where his big toe poked through. “Bunch of college debts and a nuisance, that’s all you are. I was going to be a professional soccer player. I had the scholarship too, then your mother tells me she is pregnant. Puff. There goes my dream and now I have just you. At least Danny was a choice.”

Ana’s hands tightened into fists as her father spoke. Each word felt like a searing hot knife slicing through her, and the mix of sadness and anger he stirred in her grew so thick that it almost left her gasping for breath. She wished she could believe him when he said something nice, but years of experience had taught her otherwise. His words acted like arrows aimed straight at the center of her heart.

It’s said that the more often you hear something, the more likely it is to become true. He kept on telling her she was worthless and a bad luck—maybe he was right.

He stumbled out of the house. From his expression, he could very well be gone for days or weeks. Silently, she prayed for the latter.

A text message appeared on her phone screen. She squinted at it, not quite believing what she was reading. She read it again–this time out loud–and a wave of hope filled her.

Congratulations, you are hired.

This was a job she had applied for months ago. They wanted her. If her memory served her right, she bombed the interview. She had stuttered and forgotten most of her answers.

Great. This was a sign that her luck was turning around. She checked the time for the interview, two hours from now. Christ. It was on the other side of town and, considering, she didn’t have enough cash to spare for a taxi. It was wise to leave earlier.

She sped through the cleaning, got dressed, and was out the door.

***

Checking the address one more time, she glanced at the building.

It was a training center for the most popular hockey team. The Crestmont Giants.

The building loomed ahead, its glass windows reflecting the bright sunlight on a dazzling display. From the outside, it appeared almost fierce with its sleek modern design and heavy metal doors that seemed to suggest a place of intense physical exertion.

She moved further through the hallway until she found an ice rink. It was filled with fluorescent lights flickering above the ice, casting a pale blue glow over the entire space. There was a group of players practicing their shots, sending pucks flying into the net with precision and power.

The rink was bustling with activity, but one player caught her attention immediately. He was tall and big, with an intense expression on his face as he skated back and forth with incredible speed and agility.

Ana watched as the player 24 received a pass and fired a shot. His movements were mesmerizing but intimidating.

She was captivated by his skill and athleticism, though a shiver of fear ran down her spine at the thought of working closely with someone like him.

Suddenly, the coach’s voice cut through the air, loud and urgent. “Hey, take it easy.”

The player didn’t seem to hear him at first, so focused on his practice session, causing the coach to yell out again, even louder this time. “I said calm down, Kuznetsov, dammit!”

This time, the player slowed down his movements, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself.

“Kuznetsov.” She mouthed the name. Even though she was not really a big fan of hockey, she knew who Luka Kuznetsov was. Everyone knew.

He skated over to the boards with heavy breaths, his chest heaving with exertion, where the coach was standing. With a grunt, he removed his helmet, revealing a sweaty mess of hair and a face flushed with effort. They seemed to be talking when his gaze lifted up to her, his eyes blazing with a fierce intensity that was almost frightening.

“I said no fucking visitors.”

Ana could not move, her feet rooted to the spot by the sheer force of his presence.

The coach turned around.

“I’m here for an interview. I got a text.” She reached for her phone.

Luka’s face tilted, sizing her up.

Before she said another word, the powdered-haired man came forward. “Coach Steve. Hi. You must be Ana.”

“Yeah. Hello.”

He turned, “Kuznetsov, be respectful. She is the physiotherapist we hired, can't have you scare her like the last one?”

“Last one?”

“Oh, never mind that.” The coach waved his hand dismissively. “Do you have your CV here?”

They walked ahead, leaving the ice rink as she handed him the paper. “Err… this is my first job since I graduated last year and I know you would like to have someone with experience, but I assure you—”

“You got the job. I’m not in the position to look for another.” He shifted in his stand, pulling on his trousers as he added, “We might do a trial but just make sure you do a good job.”

“Hey you,” he called out, shoving his helmet at one of the gym staff.

“Her name is Ana.” The couch snapped, before turning to her, “right?”

She nodded.

“Whatever. Let’s see what you got.”

For a second, she was cut off guard. What did he want from her? An obvious look on the coach reminded her.

“Oh right. Do you have any special needs, any joint pains perhaps?” her voice was soft and hesitant, as she stumbled over her words.

He said nothing but continued his walk ahead, pushing through a blue door to a private room.

The coach nudged his head, and she scurried out, thanking the coach one more time.

***

The office was a bright, airy space with white walls and large windows letting in plenty of natural light. The floor was made of a soft, padded material that’s easy on the feet. The room was furnished with a comfortable massage table covered with a clean white sheet, a few chairs, and a desk with a computer on it. She took a break from admiring what could be her office to find Luka undressing.

He peeled off his shirt, the sinewy ridges of his muscles flexed. She struggled to keep her eyes from wandering over him but couldn’t help but marvel at how toned, chiseled, and strikingly handsome he was.

“Is this okay for you?”

Ana jolted back to reality and swallowed hard. “No problem. Whatever you feel comfortable with.” her gaze dropped down to her fidgeting hands.

She silently prayed that he hadn’t noticed her ogling him like a love-struck schoolgirl.

Ana tried to ignore the heat that spread through her body as she began the therapy session. She slipped on a pair of gloves. Despite her obvious nervousness, Ana tried her best to appear confident and professional, or this could be the last day she ever worked here. She straightened her back, stood by the cot.

“Do you have a particular concern?”

“Just give me a little of everything.”

He collapsed onto the treatment table, winced as Ana began to massage his sore muscles.

“Wow, do you grate cheese on this thing?” She said, feeling his abs in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Luka’s face remained stern and unsmiling, his brow was furrowed, his lips pressed tightly together. There was no sign he thought her joke was funny.

She muttered an apology, clearing her throat. “Sorry. I say simple jokes when I’m nervous”

Well, this was going super great.

He groaned as she dug into the knots in his shoulders. She was determined to pass this interview or test or whatever it was, but every time their eyes met, she felt a warmth spreading through her body that she couldn’t ignore.

Ana tried to focus her attention on the sound of the blades on the ice, with its reverberations bouncing off the walls, periodically interrupted by shouts from Luka’s teammates.

It was hard with Luka’s eyes fixed on her actions. She couldn’t focus with his watchful stare. Finally, she moved to his legs, determined to get rid of the stiffness in his knees. She gently bent his leg and began massaging the thigh, working her way up towards his groin area.

Before she could think twice about it, Ana’s hand had slipped up Luka’s thigh and grabbed hold of his balls. She felt a wave of shock wash over her. “Oh, shoot.” She exclaimed. “I’m so sorry.”

“What the hell?” He frowned, sitting up. “You know, one rule of this job is being professional.” His voice hinted of anger.

“I’m so- sorry. I- i was distracted. It was not intentional.”

“I could sue for sexual abuse and misconduct.”

“Please. I promise–

He picked up his gears and clothes, walking out of the office, not bothering with the rest of her words.

Yep. Her shitty luck was at play again. She laid her head against the wall, banging her head. “Why can’t you do anything right?”

After a few moments, the coach pushed his head into the office. “You okay in there?”

“Yeah. umm...” her face cradled on her jaw, “I think I may have blown it.” she confessed, there was no use in hiding it.

“Really?” The coach looked confused, “that wasn’t what he said.”

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#hockey romance books #wattpad #ebooks #hockey romance #books #bwwm romance #sports romance #bookworm #free reads #chapter one #hisgoodpuckcharm #his good puck charm #hockeybooks

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