Flawed Femmes wielding Whips, Guns, and Blades
The surrounding nobles are silent, fidgeting, fingering weapons, and exchanging glances. The commoners say nothing. Only Kasspar’s snuffles break the silence. He holds his chin up, his red-rimmed eyes downcast off the end of the crossbow. Merreth wants so Read More …
Hello All: My apologies for no post this week. I’ve been hit with a viscous cold sapping my energy. Back next week. Stay healthy! Brant
Binging. You’ve done it, I’ve done it. Most of the people we know have done it. You find a series on Netflix or wherever that speaks to you and you blow through multiple episodes and pizza, oblivious to everything else. Read More …
Tiandraa shifts in her saddle. Stone-faced Red Hand nobles stare hard at Merreth, pausing while reaching for sword or crossbow. A mount snorts, bends its neck, begins cropping the dried scrub grass along the roadside. The breeze off the river Read More …
I decided to end our in-person Writers’ Group this week. We’d had a good run. I joined in 2000, and I understood the group had been in operation for the previous five years, so twenty-two years is impressive. I’d thought Read More …
