Byron glared at the smirking boy standing over his table. “Did you just threaten my cat?” “A cat? That’s not a cat, it’s my new winter hat.” The boy went to grab Misty who yowled and slashed out, drawing blood. “I’ll wring your filthy little neck.” Bryon scooped Misty behind him and stood. The boy …
“Charmed, I’m sure.” Lady Charlotte’s words dripped acid. Even someone as dense as Lord Bernard felt their burn, and squirmed. He attempted what he probably thought was a rakish grin. “I’m terribly sorry to interrupt your conversation, but I’ve come to steal Miss Anya away.” Anya flicked her fan open and grimaced at her cousin …
Misty dashed across the room, chasing the end of the ribbon Byron was flicking about. Reba was fairly sure the giggling farm girl who’d gifted him her apple-red ribbon at their last stopping point did not have this fate in mind for it. Or maybe she did, she cooed over the snarling kitten as so …
A woman inherits a house from her estranged grandmother. Upon entering the house, she discovers a secret room. Describe the room. (note: I got nowhere near the point of describing the room...) I barely knew I had a grandmother. Mum hated her with a passion. Mum hates a lot of people, including me. Either way, …
Byron’s new cat crouched in the corner of their inn room and growled. It had been fine until the inn’s serving girl had waltzed in with (barely) warm washing water and a request to. “See the sweet little kitty.” Byron had nodded to his bed, where the cat, named Misty for reasons beyond Reba’s understanding, …
Piety placed her cup and saucer on the table in front of her and leaned across to hiss. “They said she had to go for treatment.” Anya lowered her own tea cup. “Treatment? What sort of treatment does one go to Penzance for? It’s at the end of the earth.” “Quite! It does give the …
Someone knocked at the door. Matthew raised his brows but went to open it. Eleanor couldn’t see the person past the forester’s broad frame, but she sounded young and enthusiastic. “Ma said I was to drop by and say hello here, after I visited the others, to make sure Cadan’s wife had another familiar face …
“It’s a clue!” Emma withered Stephanie with a look. “It’s an Easter egg hunt, it doesn’t have clues, it has chocolate.” Stephanie remained annoyingly unwithered. “Maybe for you, my Mum likes to put a twist on things.” Of course she did, Stephanie’s mum was one of those parents who did ‘enriching activities’ after school and …
A quiet day today, my only excitement was a lively debate with Sir Scutterscarry, a mouse with delusions of chivalry who lives in the potting shed. He is something of a cheesie, which is a foodie, but – well – you can guess which particular type of food he focuses on. It seems this week’s …
They were camping that night, set up in a roadside clearing used by trade caravans who’s plodding horses and bulky wagons couldn’t make the full run through the forest between dawn and dusk. It was a large clearing with a well-worn path to a wide, clear stream nearby. Tonight, the clearing was empty of everyone …
The DNA of Stories 