Chapter 60: Truths at the Table

The shift from the backyard to the house felt surreal. The evening air still clung to their skin, carrying the faint scent of smoke and grass as they left the chaos of the yard behind. Every step through the threshold felt like crossing a border between worlds—outside, the rawness of magic and fear; inside, the muted hush of ordinary life, untouched, waiting for them.

This is the first of a currently 2 part story which will be continuing on my patreon. Subscribe for updates, and for the latest chapters!

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‘Boring’ sounds bad until you realize how insane ‘exciting’ can get.

Torn from his own world and stuffed into the body of a villainess, facing the end of a doomed route he himself wrote, "Amelia" must navigate a world she really should know - too bad she was never great at worldbuilding.

Stuck in a world she (maybe) created, Amelia quickly finds that reality has filled in the details she failed to describe. The characters who were so flat when she wrote them now have nuance, and motives. The kingdom she wrote into existence is experiencing internal strife she never even thought about. And let's not even get into the complexities of the magic system, or the demon that forced her into this situation to begin with...

Oh, and then there's the fact that she's about to be arrested and executed... but surely she can come up with a way to write herself out of that, right?

...Right?

Chapter 9

When we went to school on the Sunday, we took both cars. Now that I was independent, I wanted to visit my own parents when I could. Our room was now totally redecorated, with neutral walls and a red, white, and blue cornice at the ceiling join.

After a man is stabbed in the back and dies, he wakes up in the Labyrinth with a new body, new power, and another chance.

This story takes place in the same universe as my story Invoker.

It may sound strange but I recommend you not to read parts 3 and 4 of this story.
Part 3 is only half decent while part 4 is way too confusing for readers. I had great fun writing these parts though. A classic example of self-indulgence.
I did consider pulling these parts but decided to let them stay as a reminder that I should stick to short stories.
So once again. Unless you actually like to be confused, don’t read parts 3 and 4.

Wychwood Day Seven

Early Morning

One

Sandy stirred in his sleep, disturbed by something. He groaned, desperate to get back to his dream. It had been so vivid, so real; he reached down to his groin and was almost disappointed to find his cock. His mouth was dry, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth, no doubt from all he had drunk with Annabelle and Fleur. A headache pounded behind his eyes, and he reluctantly dragged them open, groaning aloud before reaching for the glass of water he had left on the bedside table.

After a man is stabbed in the back and dies, he wakes up in the Labyrinth with a new body, new power, and another chance.

This story takes place in the same universe as my story Invoker.

Pedir al Cielo.

Ask the Moon
A Novelette
by Suzan Donamas

Charity Auction
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

It was a charity event. I was wholly committed to raising money for research into the treatment of myeloma, a disease that killed my dear mother.

I suppose that myeloma is not a disease that people think demands immediate attention. Some people live with it, and some, like my mother, die – there is no known cure.

NEIL
I wasn’t relaxed. How could I be? I had managed to get a room at the Twice Brewed with no issues at all, as they seemed glad to have me back, but the alternator on the Kwak had needed replacing, and I couldn’t decide whether to trust the new one or simply switch all my luggage over to the Beemer, and all of that had been even more stressful due to the e-mails and phone calls about the other shots, at Cawfield. Would it work in monochrome? Could I handle colour as well as…

Early dismissal came as planned.

Natalie, Maddie, and Riley collected Samuel from the classroom and folded him back into their group with practiced ease. They left St. Catherine's among the other girls, surrounded by backpacks, voices, and the ordinary relief of a short school day.

Outside, Maddie's mother was waiting in the car.

Samuel prepared himself to sit quietly and say as little as possible.

"Hi, girls," Maddie's mother called from the front seat. "How was school?"

"Good," the three answered almost together.