Stories, Writing


Jett and Tucian arrived in the afternoon. “I heard someone needs a baking assistant?” Jett called, closing the door behind him.

“In here!” Avery called back from the kitchen. “Help!”

Jett and Tucian ran to the kitchen. There was white powder everywhere. The boys waved their hands around, tried not to inhale the dust, and walked in.

“Amara!” Tucian called. “You in here? Oof!” He grunted as something hit into him. He grabbed hold of familiar arms and pulled what he assumed was Amara into his own arms.

“Sorry!” Amara cried.

The powder started to settle to the floor and Jett saw Avery. “There you are!” Jett cried, reaching his hand out to her. She took his hand with a frown. They were all thoroughly covered in white powder.

“What happened?” Tucian looked down at the frosty woman in his arms.

“Amara happened!” Avery yelled. “This is why she isn’t allowed to cook!”

Amara thought she might have been mad at her, then Avery broke out laughing. She let out a long sigh of relief and smiled, her pink gums showing bright against the white.

“What?” Jett looked at Avery. “What is this stuff?”

“It’s flour,” Amara answered. “I was trying to help with Mom’s cake for tonight. I failed.”

“Epically,” Avery confirmed. “You are now, officially banned from any kitchen activity.”

“Yeah, that seems fair,” Amara agreed.

“How are we going to clean all this up? And is there any flour left for the cake?” Jett worried.

“There will be plenty left, don’t you worry. And leave the cleanup to me. I got skills.” Avery smiled and began waving her hands in circles.

Purple sparks swirled around the kitchen, sweeping the flour in breezy loops. It whisked the flour from every surface and person. It pulled Amara and Avery’s hair, stripping every last bit of flour, then poured their hair back down around their shoulders. Amara giggled as her hair was pulled and dropped. Tucian watched her in delight as the purple sparks swept over her and she twisted and turned with them.

After a few minutes, all the flour had been cleaned up.

“Sorry again, Avery,” Amara said shyly. “I really was trying to help.”

“That’s alright. But I think you better find something else to do while Jett and I make Mom’s cake now.”

“Will do.” Amara laughed and led Tucian out of the kitchen.

Stories, Writing


“What do you want to do tonight?” Avery asked Jett.

“I don’t care. Anything but be home.”

“Did Tucian take Amara there? Is it going to be a little too romantic for your taste?” Avery teased.

“Yes, actually. Blegh.” Jett sat at the vanity and rummaged through the containers curiously. “She’ll love it. He’s full of emotions and love. All that stuff you girls like. The stuff Tucian is good at but I’ve never been interested in. He’s always been full of feelings and fluff.”

“Ha ha I bet she will love it. I’m sure she’ll tell me all about it later.”

“Lucky you. What’s all this stuff for?” Jett held up a glass container. “Why do girls need all this?”

“That,” Avery took the jar from him, “is a moisturizer. It keeps our skin soft and glowy.” She set it back in its place and sat on the vanity next to him.

“To impress us boys?”

“You wish!” Avery scoffed. “For ourselves. Dry skin hurts and breaks easily when you get hit. I don’t know why other girls have so many containers of products. Most of those have magical purposes. Healing ones, mostly: for cuts, burns from power blasts, sprains. You know, for training injuries. Some are for external use, others need to be downed. You’ll have to ask a normal girl why her vanity is cluttered.” She laughed.

“I should have known better than to assume you would be a normal girl.” Jett laughed.

Stories, Writing

Art Show

Amara walked into a bright room. Sunlight streamed in through a large window on one wall and a skylight window overhead. The walls were filled with sketches and paintings. There were a few easels set up with works on them as well. There were piles of old art in corners and strands of rope with art hanging from them. There were paint stains on the floor and jars of paint, water, and paintbrushes around a sink near the window. There were many landscapes and famous landmarks from places she had never been. There were women she didn’t recognize, each of them beautiful in their own way. But those were all older and faded.

“Who are they?” Amara asked without looking away from one particularly lovely face.

“That one happens to be my mother. I can’t seem to put it away.”

“She’s beautiful,” Amara remarked, then moved on to another. She knew Tucian didn’t like talking about his mom or dad. He didn’t like thinking about whatever happened to them. She hoped someday he would tell her. But she wouldn’t push it. He would tell her when he was ready.

“She would have liked you. The others are women I’ve known. Some romantically, some not.”

She was amazed at how beautiful it all was. She took her time looking at everything. She made her way around the edges of the room first, then looked at the ones hanging on the rope. Tucian watched her intently, trying to gauge what she might be thinking. He couldn’t tell so he stood by the door, watching and waiting. Each of his works were a piece of his heart. It was hard to let people see those pieces for their judgement. It was as though they were judging his soul. He hoped Amara would like what she saw in his work.

“Tucian, they’re…” Amara trailed off as she became distracted by each new piece of art.

“Yes?” He pressed.

“Spectacular…” she whispered. She came to one she recognized on the rope, a lake in a clearing. “Is this our lake?” She pointed and turned to look at Tucian.

“It is.” He stayed where he was, waiting for her to find his most recent ones.

She meandered her way to one of the easels. She gasped at the face on the canvas. It was her. The painting was filled with light. Her own green eyes gazed back at her. She looked amazing, flawless. She stared at the portrait. He had captured her slightly small eyes and mouth well and they fit perfectly on her beaming face.

Tucian walked up behind her. “Do you like it?” He whispered into her ear.

“I love it,” Amara whispered back. “I think you might have overdone it though.”


“It’s so radiant, so…” Amara tried to find the word to describe the painting. “Exquisite.” She stayed staring at her own face. It was so familiar and yet too beautiful to be herself.

Tucian slowly turned her around and lifted her face to his. “So are you,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her.

Stories, Writing

Reading Time

Tucian strode into the library. Amara sat in a large chair with her knees pulled up, reading intently, lost in a story, and biting her bottom lip. She sipped on some orange soda and set it on the side table. He thought she looked like a child looking at a picture book. Adorable. He made his way over to her.

“Hello, darling.” He knelt in front of her chair.

“Oh, hey.” Amara tilted her book toward herself to look at him. “When did you get here?”

“A few minutes ago. What are you reading?”

“Grimm’s Fairytales,” she answered. “Not the happiest of tales, but interesting.”

“But you can’t learn anything from that nonsense.” He gave her a curious look.

“Says you,” Amara teased. “I happen to learn a lot from them.”

Tucian laughed. “You do need to keep progressing in your combat skills though. It’s important.”

“Not to me. Not right now.” She smiled down at him. “Other things are occupying my attention.” She leaned down and kissed him.

Tucian pulled away. “It is important. To me.” He pushed her hair from her face and combed his fingers through the length of it, over her shoulder.

“You’re very persuasive, you know.” Amara looked into his serious eyes. “Fine. I promise we can do some training. For you.” She kissed him again.

“Good girl.” Tucian smiled.

“After this last tale!” She stole her book back and giggled.

Tucian shook his head. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

“You’re lucky I love you so much. Giving up my reading time is serious business.”

“I am lucky.” He kissed her. “My Amara.” Tucian held her in his arms, cuddling her tightly in the chair as she read. He rested his head on hers with a happy grin until she was done.

Stories, Writing


He watched Amara in wonder as she walked out into the shower. She didn’t bow her head to the rain like most people. Instead, she lifted her face to the sky and let the water kiss her eyelids. She stood still for a moment then, with eyes closed, proceeded to remove all her training gear. Items dropped to the ground until she was down to her shirt, pants, and shoes. She basked in the refreshing rain splattering over her. Rain always made her happy. It restored her, made her whole. She totally forgot anyone was with her. Her hair became drenched and stuck to her. Her clothes began clinging to her body. She was absolutely captivating.

Stories, Writing


Sometimes I have very vivid dreams. This was one of them! It’s from a while back and it isn’t very polished. I expanded on it a little more but I think that’s another post.

Raya and Kayley were upstairs with Kayley’s parents and brother, Jason. She heard her mother’s voice float up from downstairs.

“I’ll be back, guys.” Raya said as she headed down the stairs. She looked around for her own family. She saw a foot near the end of the couch and walked over slowly. She found her parents and little brother behind the couch.

Raya looked at the bodies of her family, lying in pools of blood. Her pulse raced and she felt dizzy. She spun around to look at her best friend who had followed her.

“Kayley,” she whispered, “no.”

“I’m sorry,” Kayley said, her voice breaking with regret. “I wanted to tell you. My family, we…” she trailed off.

Raya hit her knees as Kayley tried to take her hand. Tears flooded her cheeks. Kayley’s mom came over and stood next to her, followed by her brother.

“Oh, Raya,” her mother reached her hand down to her face.

“Kill me,” Raya whispered. Her voice grew louder with anger. “You better kill me. Or I’ll hunt each of you down and slaughter you like you did my family.”

“Raya, please. Don’t—“ Kayley tried.

“KILL ME!!!” Raya shouted in rage.

“Alright,” Kayley’s brother, Jason, agreed. He knelt in front of her, stroked her hair, and down her neck. He looked into her frightened eyes and felt her trembling. Then he quickly sank his teeth into her neck, avoiding her carotid artery on purpose. He would make this last. She made a grunting sound and grabbed onto his shoulders, her fingers digging in as he pulled her to standing.

Raya squeezed her eyes shut and held on tight as pain gripped her. She felt Jason’s teeth dig down deep where her neck met her shoulder. His teeth ground around for a moment, making the openings larger, making her whimper. It was a relief when he pulled his teeth from her and began sucking instead, drawing her blood to him. She held firm and looked over to Kayley with angry eyes.

Kayley watched in sorrow as her brother drained her lifelong best friend. She felt guilt echo through her as Raya looked to her with the most intensely hateful eyes she’d ever seen. She looked away, unable to bear it.

Raya’s head spun as Jason took big gulps from the fresh spring he’d tapped. He whirled her around and slowly lowered himself and her onto a chair. She tried to focus on the fact that she would be joining her family soon as Jason positioned her weakening body how he pleased. She sat, straddling his lap as he sucked her very life from her. She could feel the color drain from her face as his tongue lapped against her skin.

Jason paused as the flowing of her blood slowed. He pulled Raya back a little by her hair. He looked into her dulling eyes and said, “You know, I always had a thing for you. My little sister’s bestie. Her sweet friend with the sweetest blood. I always secretly hoped I’d get to taste it.” He pulled her to him and kissed her.

Raya tried to fight him off, disgusted by his words and his tongue against hers. But it was too late, he’d taken too much. All she could manage was to press her hands against his chest, not nearly enough to stop him. The taste of her own blood filled her mouth and she wished she had the strength to vomit. When he pulled back, Raya looked back to Kayley. She tried to glare at her but only ended up looking pathetic, near death, with her neck still oozing blood down her chest. She didn’t know if her best friend would feel sorry for this. But Raya would do her best to try to make her.

“Mmm…” Jason licked up the blood on her chest. “You do not disappoint.” He latched back onto her neck, and continued pulling ounce by ounce. He kept one hand on her head and began to allow his other hand to roam. She felt him rub her back and hips, grip and caress her thigh under her dress. She squirmed but lacked the strength to fight back. Luckily, he didn’t go any further. She tried to hold on as things went blurry, as her world dimmed. But after a few more minutes of Jason’s leeching, she couldn’t hold her hands against his chest any longer. She felt her fingers slide down his blood soaked shirt. It wasn’t long after that, she had to rest her head on his shoulder, then fell completely limp as her world went silent and black. It was peaceful. It was her end.

Stories, Writing

Book Intro

Tucian had been watching her for a month now, this woman in the supermarket. Never in his life had he seen someone so radiant. At first she had looked at him with skepticism. She would look him over carefully as though she were sizing him up, seeing if she could take him down. Her calculating eyes had drawn him in, intrigued him.

After two weeks she seemed to let her gazing guard down. The looks that followed were even better. He adored the way she would blush each time he caught her eye. And her smile ignited his whole world. He admired how she moved with strength and purpose. It seemed like she knew who she was and what she was doing. This beautiful woman never meandered in the store and he suspected she didn’t meander in any other aspects of life either.