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@tempestteapot.bsky.social

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From a short story “A Brief Stop on the Way to Sheol.” Specialist Coric Pullman didn't like being legally dead so he bought the ID of a dead guardswoman. A Sci-Fi murder mystery with a Jewish thread.

The ubiquitous gray metal walls enclosed the small apartment in the Officers Quarters. A brightly colored rug-hanging with two triangles making a star appeared to be the only decoration in her private domain. Standard issue blankets covered the bed. A peek in the closet revealed a supply of uniform pieces: gray trousers, black jackets and red shirts. The boots were incredibly small and polished clean. Coric firmly avoided rummaging in the underwear drawers.
Curious, he fingered the delicate cascade of fringes on a white square of fabric folded neatly on the top shelf.
I wonder what she was like. A fellow recruit, with her own reasons for joining the Guard. Assigned to this ice hole, probably as a reprimand. Or too good of a Weather Specialist to be running the circuit with the rest of the Colony Guard. Dr. Rosolvic mentioned something about nixing the harvest, so she must've worked at one of the Tuapsian Weather Towers.

November 12, 2025 at 1:50 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚

A Demon’s Bargain where all the options are bad: fight with soul-destroying magic or lose her family, her beloved, and her life. Despard leaves his guard post to rescue someone drowning in the river.

Cursing his stupidity for getting involved, Despard swam closer and tried to grab the drowner. Backing away when the figure clawed at his arms, he re-aligned behind them. He tried again, holding out his arms to sandwich them into a horizontal float. Bumping against an unexpectedly soft chest, he got bashed with an elbow and let go. She dropped lower. A surge of water pressure against his legs signaled her location within the center channel. He spat out river water, tasting rotten pennywort and mud.
How much longer could she last? Dredged for cargo boats, the river here was deep but slow. Even late in the season, disturbed mud clouded the water, making it impossible for him to find her if she didn't surface. Would she bump against a canal skiff or wash up on a sandbar with the kelp, drowned like his cousin? When the search party pulled the lost fool from the reeds, his face was gray and swollen.
A ghostly swipe skittered across his shin.
With a deep breath, he dove under, followed the touch and shoved hard to swing her onto her back. Scissor-kicking and pushing with his head, he forced her up before sliding out from under her. He yanked her soggy hair covering and he managed to bring her into a back float position. One arm firmly under her chin to keep her mouth above water, Despard swept back with the other arm toward the raft and shore. His passenger choked on the occasional dunking but didn't resist his rescue efforts.

November 11, 2025 at 2:08 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚

A Demon’s Bargain where all the options are bad. Kahyla hopes to negotiate for the release of her sister, with Despard playing the role of Bizal's stupid and obedient caravan guard.

“Bizal won’t thank you for keeping me waiting,” she said. “The Ferruthan minstrel is harmless.”
The horseman smiled weakly and gestured for them to follow him into the tavern. An eerily quiet front room greeted them. Doors opened to the kitchen and stables, as well as stairs to private bedchambers. No locals drank or chatted, suggesting that Bizal had paid for the entire enterprise. The horseman led them past rows of scrubbed trestle tables to a door, flanked by guards. The unlucky Tarvel, who had failed to stop Kahyla’s escape, shuffled uncomfortably. No doubt he remembered how she had embarrassed him. Tarvel turned and knocked, waiting for an answer before he opened the door. Hiding the trembling in her hands, Kahyla pressed against Despard’s back to urge him ahead of her.
It was a close small room, sided with cheap local pine. Bizal rose from a table strewn with lunch remains. A half dozen soldiers came alert behind him, including Vetal, the guard Kahyla had taunted to shoot her.
“May Parkith bless our meeting with friendship, Gentlemistress Kahyla,” crooned Bizal, approaching with hands extended.
Her nerve failing, she ducked behind Despard. Bizal scowled and stepped around Despard, who drew an inch of sword.
“What do you think you’re doing, Despard?” Bizal asked.
“I’m contracted to protect your caravan. She’s part of your caravan,” Despard said, frozen in mid-draw.
“Stupid merc, you need to learn how to follow orders correctly,” Bizal snarled. “A sell-sword like you doesn’t get to keep the girl and his fee.”
Despard tipped his head. “I chose the girl.”
Vetal and another soldier bracketed Bizal with hands on pommels. Kahyla shoved herself between Despard and Bizal. “May Parkith temper your days with virtue, Archduke Bizal.”
Bizal stared at her, as though remembering the purpose of their meeting. He gave a curt nod and the soldiers backed up.

November 10, 2025 at 2:30 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚

A Demon’s Bargain: fight with soul-destroying magic or lose her family, her beloved, and her life.

Opposites thrown together: a gentry refugee pulled from the river by a rough sell-sword with a poet’s heart.

His smooth cheek passed close as he reclaimed his small throwing knife. A mineral scent of polish intermingled with the fish odor. Kahyla wondered how his cheek would feel; most Huxen men wore their beards long out of respect for Parkith. One knee bent to reach the dagger, Despard knelt like a Huxen courtier. Could she picture him as a visiting nobleman and not a dangerous heathen?
He wiped his blade on his black trouser leg. His unmarked sword rested in its scabbard, extending from his hip to the floor. Not a courtier, not a liege-sworn soldier, but a mercenary.
“Despard, why are you here?” she asked, offering him a hand up. His calloused hand felt rough but warm.
“I don’t quite know myself,” he said, resetting the position of his sword. “Instead of scrounging for work after dredging up my sword, I thought about what you said. About honor and generosity. About standing up for your traditions.”
“I thought my dream was to earn my place on a privateer’s crew, come home with gold and treasures,” he said, staring off to some imagined future. He chuckled at Tebfin playing with the fish. “I figured you wouldn’t have a scrap to eat.” Despard dug into a rucksack on his back and tossed out a melon-sized wine skin with a gurgle. Two round country loaves and a few apples followed. “I could stay for dinner and hear more of your stories.”

November 9, 2025 at 6:30 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky
💙📚 🪐📚

Ghost story vibes & feminist journey, “Haint Blue” in VOICES LIKE THESE from @story-forge.bsky.social When you work in a haunted house, the fake monsters are your family and real props open dimensional windows.

Buy indie at bit.ly/4mLwQSw

“Dadddeeeeeeee!”
Cassie spun. The whining device no longer showed a copy. Peering into a parallel world, the device worked, but the fire still raged in that alternate timeline. Curled in a ball under the dryer vent hoses, the image of a little boy shimmered and flickered.
She stepped closer. “Can you hear me?”
The boy’s tear-streaked face popped up.
Dear God, he looked like Todd. Baby-fat rounded his face, but there was no mistaking the stormy-blue eyes.
“Get away from the fire,” Cassie yelled.

November 8, 2025 at 3:15 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚

In the WIP sequel to Demon’s Bargain, Waking the Saints, Eis-Queen Lualih grants a foreign ambassador an informal audience.

“I grant you one minute of my time,” Lualih said. “If you can keep up.”
“Your saints blessed you with generosity, m’am.” Quimmik tried to join her side, but her Blue, Master Ragin, moved between them.
“Only a minute,” muttered Quimmik, catching up. “I seek a bride for Chief Bear in exchange for an alliance with our tribe.”
“Splendid! I trust you will secure the border on your way out of Huxen territory.”
“We are also concerned about the Cat tribe’s movements on your border, but the Bear cannot fight them alone, not within the terms of our treaty.”
“Your Northman tribes fight each other all the time. Let both sides weaken before they turn again to Huxen.”

November 7, 2025 at 1:29 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚

Penultimate = last

A supposedly loyal family soldier tries to assasinate Kahyla outside their camp while Despard is on guard duty. She kills him and Despard insists she clean her own blade.

Hand shaking, she took the rag, stained and smelling of polish oil. She knelt, snow-melt damp seeping into the knees of her woolen stockings. Kirrik’s face was slack, no expression giving clues to his last thoughts. No breath moved his chest, where the dark stain pooled under his vest. Her own hair twined around his fingers, caught on the silver ring. His hand splayed out, not quite reaching the handle or the silk square tucked lower between the laces.
Gripping the bumpy metal hilt, she tugged, making his chest twitch. Bracing against his warm body, she pulled again, releasing a brief trickle along the thin short blade. Scarcely longer than her hand from tip to pommel, it dripped as she turned it over, holding heat in the metal. Retrieving the rag, she carefully rubbed the blade and hilt dry before sliding it back into the hidden boot scabbard.
Crashing through the wood like a frightened deer, Abber overshot them on the path to the stream. Kalev followed behind, stopping where Kahyla’s route diverged from the more footworn path.

November 6, 2025 at 2:05 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

Kahyla faces a DEMON’S BARGAIN where all the options are bad: fight with soul-destroying magic or lose her family, her beloved, and her life.

⛓️💥Feminist within patriarchy
🦶😒 Heel-face turn
🔥❤️ Slow burn
🕴️Powers via Possession
🚶♀️Coming of Age
🗣️Quiet girl finds her voice

#QuestPit 📖#Q #F #R #YA #A

Graphic shows silhouette of couple filled with courtyard, leather armor, and a structure consumed by flames. Six of Crows X Witch King Demon's Bargain A bastard gentrywoman, Kahyla struggles to protect her siblings against assassins, demon-eaten mages, and political rivals intent on the throne. She faces a demon's bargain: fight with soul-destroying magic or lose her family, her beloved, and her life. 120k Epic Fantasy Novel. Tropes list: Deliberate values dissonance Feminist within patriarchy Heel-face turn Slow burn Forbidden love Powers via Possession Coming of Age Quiet girl finds her voice Target markets: adult fantasy for darker themes, detailed world-building, and a blend of magic and political intrigue. YA for coming-of-age story and slow burn romance, while skewing older for the consequences of difficult life choices. #F #R #YA #A #Q Body count 11, proposals 4, weddings 2

November 6, 2025 at 4:45 AM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

Kahyla faces a DEMON’S BARGAIN where all the options are bad: fight with soul-destroying magic or lose her family, her beloved, and her life.

Opening line:
Blood and ash, which way through the rocks?
Ending lines:
“And if you find more demons?”
“Then I fight,” she said.
#QuestPit #F #R #YA #A #Q

November 5, 2025 at 11:56 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

A bastard gentrywoman, Kahyla protects her siblings against assassins, demon-eaten mages, and rivals intent on the throne. She faces a DEMON’S BARGAIN where all the options are bad: fight with soul-destroying magic or lose her family, her beloved, and her life.

#questpit #W #F #R #YA #A #Q

November 5, 2025 at 4:40 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚

A Demon’s Bargain where all the options are bad: fight with soul-destroying magic or lose her family, her beloved, and her life. To save Despard, Kahyla agreed to marry Baron Gooseport, but Bizal has revenge in mind.

“Parkith’s Blessing, Lady Tamrin.” Tauno motioned to the patrician beside him. “We have just enough time between sessions for the ceremony. My patrician has everything prepared in his office here.”
Despard picked up the sword cane, but Tauno waved him back. “We have the contract, Despard. You don’t have to be present.”
Better to spare him some pain.
“Abber, at least, should witness,” Kahyla said.
Tauno sighed. “Get her quickly. We don’t have much time.”
Kahyla returned to the circle, where Abber and Master Vayhne chatted amiably. Shoving the clerk aside, Archduke Bizal barged into the circle, trailed by a reluctant Vetal.
“You’re going to regret that humiliating display, Kahyla,” said Bizal. “I’m not blind to Gooseport and his pet patrician. Did he finally buy Despard’s permission? Remember your words, Kahyla. You can’t marry a corpse.”

November 5, 2025 at 2:11 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚

A Demon’s Bargain where all the options are bad: fight with soul-destroying magic or lose her family, her beloved, and her life.

An accusation of magery can lead to death. Vetal must choose between a saint and his liege lord.

“Despard? The Ferruthan poet from the garden?” said Podru, wresting control of her mouth.
“Poet? He’s a filthy mage!” Bizal turned to Vetal. “Tell them you saw Despard using magic. Accuse him.”
“No, Your Excellency,” said Vetal, as tense as an overdrawn bowstring. “I will not lie to a saint. Despard risked his life to save us from a demon. I never saw him use magic, only his wits and steel.”
“Pointless lie anyway. I could tell Despard had the wrong blood type when he touched the haven,” said Podru. “You, on the other hand, have enough Rh factor to be useful for mage blood.”

November 4, 2025 at 3:44 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚

From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Despard thinks he's got a job offer from a pirate, but the chapter title is Betrayal.

“I would like to purchase some information.” The Dragonlord withdrew a small coin sack and tossed it onto the table. It jingled nicely.
Despard grabbed the lip of the bag and dragged it closer. The leather bag hadn’t been tied and a substantial number of coins glittered inside the bag. “I’m listening.”
“A few nights ago, a dead man was pulled from the river. My sources tell me you were on guard duty on the Siren’s Song that week. You would have had an excellent view of where the body was found. I want to hear what you saw. If I like what I hear, you'll get another bag.”
Despard had fought with Kahyla that night, pushing her away. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t see her again. Less than a week later, he was turning over winter apples at a farmer’s stall, looking for a hospitality gift for her dinners. She’d warmed his evenings with laughter, but dragging the assassin to his ship had tipped the scales. Every time her world overlapped with his, he ended up making foolish decisions. Was he about to do it again?
“Someone tried to board the Siren’s Song. When he wouldn’t leave, I made sure he couldn’t try again,” said Despard.
The thin lips below the mask turned to a frown. “What happened before you killed him? Had anyone passed by recently?”

November 3, 2025 at 12:56 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚

From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. A magical explosion destroys the bridge under them. Kahyla pulls Despard out of the river this time, but they need to get dry and warm. Kahyla had stripped down to her damp chemise.

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” she said quietly. With shaking fingers, she dropped the dry twigs. “Forgetting modesty, forgetting Parkith’s Laws. But you need to get warm…”
No flint, no spark, no fire. Creeping numbness made his thoughts sluggish. Getting warm sounded more important than modesty to him but…
Kahyla decides.
“We could huddle together under the driest clothes,” Despard suggested.
“If someone found us together, a Tamrin gossip or a Terrick soldier. My own liege-sworn would kill you, if they thought you’d hurt me,” she said. Her jerky hand picked at a loose tendril of hair. Almost black in the dim moonlight, the headwrap fabric twisted behind her ear, darker in color near her bloodied cheek. “If someone found us…”
Despard tried to hide a shiver in the evening breeze, but Kahyla grimaced in response. She stared down at their dark and pointless preparation for a fire before her face hardened in resolve. When his redbird defended her nest from enemies, he feared for the owl.
“Someone did find us,” she said. “We were betrayed.”
She rubbed stiff fingers and a spider web of sparks rose into flames with a puff of sulfur. Despard caught her before she slumped into the cheerful, magelit campfire.

November 2, 2025 at 5:41 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚

From Epic Fantasy WIP, Waking the Saints, Eis-Queen Lualih doesn’t fully trust her new royal guard.

“Lady Juho, did you bring the maps?” Lualih peeled a sweaty partlet from her shoulders , tossing it to the hovering servant following her brisk steps.
A portrait of a stiff woman dressed in an ancient mode, some forgotten second or third wife of a Huxen king, graced the wall. Even here, the luxury of an artist’s craft consigned to an obscure corner.
The map of Gorel barony slid into Lualih’s hand. She glowered at the shadow of Master Vetal on the page, without slowing her walk. “How many of Gorel’s neighbors–”
An unframed door opened ahead of her, admitting a fur-capped man with braided white hair and a long tunic.
“Blessings upon you, Your Majesty. A moment of your time?”
Master Vetal shoved the stranger against the wall, shielding Lualih with his body. Another painted ancestor passed judgment from within a gilded frame.
“Is this how you greet a foreign dignitary?” the Northman protested.
Vetal continued to pin the man’s arms. “You’ll note my lethal weapons are still sheathed. Who are you and how did you get in here?”
“Ambassador Quimmik, at your service. As the ambassador from Chief Bear, I knew I was unlikely to get a formal audience, so I observed where Queen Lualih went between appearances.”

November 1, 2025 at 3:28 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚

From Epic Fantasy WIP, Waking the Saints. I like my protagonists morally grey. Here’s Zorrik, the cheerful inquisitor.

Zorrik pursed his lips. “I don’t care about the theft. That’s the city guard’s problem. I care about magic attracting demons.” If the voice from the saint’s haven was correct, they didn’t have much time. He needed to find a powerful mage, not to destroy him but to give him all the power of a Saint’s Vessel. His stomach clenched at the thought of handing the saint over to a heretical madman. “I want your teacher, the head of the network.”
The silence stretched. The child knew, she must know. Why did she hide these monsters who would call down demons? Why did she play such dangerous games with her soul? The last girl to walk through his door for an ordeal had promised to haunt him as a hungry ghost. She had survived her ordeal, bringing bewildering commands from a saint.
“You don’t have to risk an ordeal. Give me the names. What are they to you now? I can get you on the parole list. With the new king’s order to halt the ordeals, the temple prisons are overflowing with accused mages. You would, of course, be expected to return for your trial when the Prelate returns from his pilgrimage.”
The girl met his eyes. They both knew she’d disappear after release, but that wasn’t the point.

October 31, 2025 at 2:16 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

#F #R #YA #A #Q #GhostPit 💙📚

A bastard gentrywoman, Kahyla protects her siblings against assassins, demon-eaten mages, and rivals intent on the throne. She faces a DEMON’S BARGAIN where all the options are bad: fight with soul-destroying magic or lose her family, her beloved, and her life.

October 31, 2025 at 12:30 AM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

#F #R #YA #A #Q #GhostPit 💙📚
Kahyla faces a DEMON’S BARGAIN where all the options are bad: fight with soul-destroying magic or lose her family, her beloved, and her life.

Opening line:
Blood and ash, which way through the rocks?
Ending lines:
“And if you find more demons?”
“Then I fight,” she said.

October 30, 2025 at 6:30 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

#GhostPit 👻 #WritingCommunity 💙📚 🪐📚 #IP #A #WF

Ghost story vibes & feminist journey, “Haint Blue” in VOICES LIKE THESE by
@story-forge.bsky.social
When you work in a haunted house, the fake monsters are your family and real props open dimensional windows. Buy indie bit.ly/4mLwQSw

Two zombies stare at the camera in front of a shadowy door

Book cover with title VOICES LIKE THESE. Many windows appear against a dark background, each with a different scene.

Story title Haint Blue against a dark background and a window with flames

October 30, 2025 at 1:49 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚

In the WIP sequel to Demon’s Bargain, Waking the Saints, Vayhne heads the underground mage network.

Mehri’s voice cut across his memories. “Stop it, Vayhne.” She put down her fork. “There’s a perfectly good fire in the kitchen. Why risk magic on warming cold tea?”
The minor spell barely sped his heartbeat, but that wasn’t what she meant.
“With your husband Petro standing guard at the shopfront, I doubt any demon-hunters will arrest me,” said Vayhne.
A crash at the door made Vayhne flinch and he quickly snuffed the spell.

October 30, 2025 at 1:11 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚

A Demon’s Bargain where all the options are bad: fight with soul-destroying magic or lose her family, her beloved, and her life. Despard rescued the weird refugees from drowning in the river.

Broomstick = clean

Fancy clothes, fancy manners, but living alone on a raft. Runaways or refugees, maybe. It must seem bleak without a home–their ruined raft little more than charcoal. In a city with immigrants pouring in seeking Bivmiav's wealth, they’d be easy marks. Why shouldn’t he benefit from helping them?
A thousand answers to that question pressed close in his mind, but a stab of sparkling light broke his circle of thoughts.
“I know we've caused you trouble. I hope this will repay you enough to find us shelter.”
Despard gaped at the large sapphire in an ornate setting. Eventually, the rest of her sentence sank in.
“Do you have money to pay for that shelter?”
Eyes as blue as the ring darted away. Despard shoved the jewelry into his pocket.
Some weird foreign custom told her not to reward him, then he had harassed her, and still she found some need to pay him. Any other merc would mug them for the jewelry and walk away. Nobody’ll give it to you, so you have to take it, his drunken father would tell him.
The sharp edge of the ring pressed against his thigh.
If she was rich, maybe her father would pay a reward for helping them. Maybe he could get them to clean up his hideout. He definitely wasn’t helping them because she saw his foolishness as gentlemanly.
“Come with me. I'll show you a decent place you can stay.”

October 29, 2025 at 12:48 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky 💙📚 🪐📚

Ghost story vibes & a feminist journey, “Haint Blue” in VOICES LIKE THESE from @story-forge.bsky.social When you work in a haunted house, the fake monsters are your family and real props open dimensional windows.

Buy indie at bit.ly/4mLwQSw

Cassie hugged her friend, transferring some of the coffee grounds and chocolate syrup stains to her costume.
“You and Mary will make great parents. I know it. No matter what that crazy governor thinks of lesbian parents. There’s nothing unnatural about wanting to have a kid,” said Cassie. “God, can you imagine if Todd and I had a spawn? Talk about unnatural.”
“He would have tried, if he thought it would make you stay.” Lizzie scowled. Disgust wrinkled the white paint and maggots on her face.
Cassie’s dial-a-pill pack had moved to a different shelf on the medicine cabinet. Had he tampered with her birth control? She never told him about the new IUD. The little clinic had taken cash when she lied about insurance, his insurance. A phone call for an appointment that had opened up, then a road trip across the state border and missing cast call at the haunt. It had been three years ago to this day, but a Friday when Todd had been distracted with grading papers.
Stupid, stupid, Lizzie must think I’m so stupid, going back to Todd again and again.

October 28, 2025 at 12:53 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚

blood-curdling vibes

A Demon’s Bargain where all the options are bad: fight with soul-destroying magic or lose her family, her beloved, and her life. The boss fight isn’t over when killing the villain releases the demon.

Swarming up her leg like ants, a dark mass boiled out of [redacted]’s body, stinging as the viscous flow reached her hip. Seeping into the cut [redacted] had given her, it burned like alcohol on her raw wound. Her body jerked against Despard’s embrace, and he frantically brushed the black tendrils away from her, but like bees, the blobs detached and floated around his hands before reforming and diving back into her side. Wrapping around her spine, the pain climbed higher, until shards of light filled her vision, spreading through her head, tearing, ripping, as the onslaught continued.
I…worked…for…years…on that body.
Each alien thought came with a punch of pain.
What can I do with you? You’re useless for anything but survival.
Her arm moved, but not by her command. Nerves scraped raw brought a flood of memories: some hers but others of vast empty space. Dimly aware of outside voices, she fought to focus her eyes on someone leaning over her. Her hand found her abandoned dagger and slashed at the face. Vetal’s voice swore, then fell away.

October 27, 2025 at 1:51 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚

A Demon’s Bargain where all the options are bad: fight with soul-destroying magic or lose her family, her beloved, and her life. After Kahyla’s Dancing Day ceremony, the gang discuss next steps.

“We need more information,” muttered Malgrim. “I put Kahyla in danger from my mistakes. I’ll work on getting a secure message to Baron Grath. If I can’t hide three children in my own caravan, I’ll eat my hat. Not the one with feathers, though.”
“In the meantime, stay safe and hidden in Bivmiav,” Despard reassured. “I’ve paid a few urchins to watch the warehouse while I’m not around.”
“A few weeks and we can return safely to Huxen, hidden in Malgrim’s caravan,” Kahyla said.
Safe in Huxen or safe in Bivmiav, as long as we’re together.
Abber scowled. “I don’t want to go back to Huxen, but not looking over my shoulder for assassins would be nice.”
She sighed and tossed the red priest hat on the table.
“Why don’t we celebrate today before we worry about tomorrow?”
Despard hugged Kahyla again.
It wasn’t me. I didn’t screw up. We’ll have a few weeks together before she leaves. Before I have to decide.

October 26, 2025 at 3:23 PM

Carla Hennes ❌ 👑 🐸

@tempestteapot.bsky.social

#WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky 💙📚 🪐📚 Ghost story vibes & feminist journey, “Haint Blue” in VOICES LIKE THESE by @story-forge.bsky.social
When you work in a haunted house, the fake monsters are your family and real props open dimensional windows.
Details at: storyforge.com/anthology

October 25, 2025 at 4:56 PM

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