Our latest story : Blood and Whisky
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Continue reading →Writing Blood and Whisky in the Sunroom The soft crackle of the fireplace blends with the rhythmic tapping of my keyboard. I sit comfortably in my sunroom, a steaming cup of coffee on the table and a perfectly toasted bagel … Continue reading →
The storm rolled in like a drunk cowboy loud, angry, and demanding attention. Bella stood behind the bar, the polished wood cool beneath her palms, the neon glow from the beer signs casting red and blue ghosts across the walls.
The door creaked open, and with it came a man who carried the night in his step—broad-shouldered, golden-eyed, and soaked from the rain.
“Evening, ma’am,” he drawled, tipping his hat with an old-world grace. “Might I come in?”
Something in his voice—like velvet and thunder—made her pulse stutter.
And though it was her bar, her rules—she felt she’d already said yes.
Continue reading →Renee’s breath caught as Jack stepped onto her porch, his sharp gaze landing on Bella. “She has my eyes,” he murmured.
Instinctively, she held her daughter closer. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Jack sighed. “You knew I’d find out.”
Before she could respond, Charlie’s cruiser pulled in. He stepped out, eyes scanning Jack with quiet authority. “Everything alright?”
Jack smiled coldly. “I’m here to collect what’s mine.”
Charlie’s stance stiffened. “Not here, you’re not.”
Renee’s heart pounded. She had made her choice—her family was here. And she wouldn’t let Jack take that away.
Continue reading →The scent of Bella’s blood still lingered in my mind, a haunting reminder of how quickly control could slip away. I sat in the darkness of my study, hands clenched into fists, replaying the moment over and over. One paper cut—that’s all it had taken to unleash the monster I’d spent decades trying to contain.
The house was quiet now, too quiet. Edward had taken Bella home, and the rest of the family had scattered to their own corners, their emotions a turbulent mix of concern, disappointment, and fear. I could feel them all, pressing against my consciousness.
Continue reading →The ring on my finger felt like a shackle.
“You’re being unreasonable, love,” Edward’s voice held that particular tone that made my teeth clench. He stood by my desk, perfect and immovable as a marble statue.
“Angela’s birthday party is simply too risky right now.”
“Too risky?” I spun from my bookshelf. “It’s at her house, Edward. With her family. Just a small gathering of friends—friends I barely see anymore because there’s always some reason why it’s ‘not safe.'” “The situation with Victoria…”
“Is over. She’s dead.” I grabbed Angela’s invitation, waving it like a flag. “This is the third time this month you’ve stopped me.”