Dear Readers, This is a continuation of the updated version

.Seven
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Shadowsblade a Whateley Tale: Written by Shadowsblade

Created for war and forged in pain, dealing with demons within and without.

A young New Yorker finds himself in over his head after finding a symbiote that changes him in unexpected ways.

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Chapter 9 Someone like us

Chapter 14

When Willow got home on Friday evening, she had a home-cooked dinner and went off to bed. Wendy had taken all her soiled nighties to the laundry, and her laptop and Tiger were already upstairs when she arrived in her bedroom. Her bed was luxurious after the hospital bed, and she was soon asleep with her hunger for her mother’s cooking satisfied.

On Saturday morning, she showered and dressed in a jersey knit that went below the knee and a sweater. She was getting herself some breakfast when her phone chirped.

“Hello, friend.”

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Dear Readers, I have inserted a rewrite in place of the earlier publication. It's still rough.

The last day in the hospital was a blur. Jenn and Amy helped her pack up her cosmetics and toiletries. Jenn had brought her an outfit that would be comfortable for the ride home. Amy had told Conor to wait in the parking lot until she called to tell him they were on their way.

A Charm-ing Gift

Author's note: This is the story I hoped to expand into something capable of meeting the requirements of the romance contest. But, since I couldn't manage that, I am setting it free . . .

Josette will soon have to go back home, but she wants to have one more day of fun in the city first.

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Dear Readers,

I've written 50,000 words of this story. In doing so, I went back and rewrote it from the beginning.

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Chapter 12

That was where Wendy found her sitting, some ten minutes later.

“Getting some quiet time in, love?”

“That and some thinking, Mum. Are you ready to go yet?”

“Just about. Your Dad will be here a while until Malcolm takes over.”

She looked around the room.

Shadowsblade a Whateley Tale: Written by Shadowsblade

Created for war and forged in pain, dealing with demons within and without.

A Hillbilly Funeral 
by
Rebecca Anna Coleman
Part Three of Three

I found my uncle stumbling around the small bathroom of the church. He was drunk as a jude, and the moment he spotted me out of the corner of his beady eyes he stumbled toward me. His eyes were glazed over and his breath reeked of cheap, corn whiskey. When he was mere inches from me, he reached out and placed both of his hands upon my shoulder. 

Two lonely high school students walk parallel paths.  One, impoverished and losing hope, yearns desperately to become their authentic self. The other, wealthy and the victim of unfathomable manipulation, resists changing to something they never wanted to be. Can these two, meeting amidst the clatter and chatter of the school cafeteria, find connection? Can they embrace their fractured selves and each other and then become whole? Or will a duplicitous villainess, in the guise of a loving mother, destroy their fragile hope and leave them living a miserable, incomplete existence?

Photo by Morrhigan on Freeimages.com

When you're a kid growing up, you just naturally assume the way you look at the world is the same as everyone else looks at the world. There are simple things like ice cream – everybody loves ice cream, right? Stay with me now and don't hand me any crap about lactose intolerance or juvenile diabetes, that stuff a kid doesn't know or care about. When you get a little bit older your binary world starts to acquire shades of gray, and even some colors, or in this case a better focus.

I’m a nerd. I like being a nerd. I never had any other ambition. I’m also a boy. I like being a boy. I never had any other ambition.