#historicalfantasy — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #historicalfantasy, aggregated by home.social.
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 130, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK
#Wss366 Tall #TimeTravelAuthors 09/5. Plant Grow
The fairy dance ended as suddenly as it had started. One flute cut off mid-verse, and the other trailed off right afterwards. No one seemed alarmed or surprised. Most stopped in their tracks, while a few continued prancing for a few moments more before joining the rest and slipped away.
Weena tugged on my arm and gestured at the building behind the trees. “Coome. Hoomee. Eeat.”
I nodded, and we started toward the woods.
The whole way, my new friend held my hand and babbled to me in a mixture of melodic syllables and fractured English. After asking a few questions, I realized I wouldn’t learn anything useful. She either didn’t know the answers, couldn’t communicate them, or I failed to make myself understood. As such, I retreated into my thoughts.
I considered what I’d learned. I knew a fair amount about this world, or at least H.G. Wells’s theories. Meeting the fairies, for that is what I still thought of them as, had been fortunate. If I had followed the path, I might have run into the Morlocks. But about myself, I remained ignorant except for what short flashbacks had shown me.
It was beyond frustrating that I remembered a “fictional” book more clearly than my own history.
The woods soon ended, and we emerged into a wide glen with an enormous ruined mansion in the center. Lichen grew thick on its walls, and time had shattered its #tall stained-glass windows. The remaining geometric panes had slumped like wax candles left in the sun. I doubted the fairies had built it. Instead, some forgotten civilization must have done so.
That thought offered a glimmer of hope. Remnants of that race could still exist. If I found them, I might learn more.
Returning to my survey, I noted #plants heavy with berries, small fruits, and pea-like pods growing throughout the glen. There was no sense of their being planted by the fairy folk. The herbage sprouted in random swatches or alone, just as the wind had scattered their seeds. Amidst this lush abundance, a wide variety of melon vines snaked along the ground. Here too was an untended bounty of yellow, green, and dappled gourds. At the forest's edge grew trees laden with red, purple, and topaz globes. It was no surprise that the protagonist of H.G. Wells’s story had mistaken this for a utopia at first.
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 130, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK
#Wss366 Tall #TimeTravelAuthors 09/5. Plant Grow
The fairy dance ended as suddenly as it had started. One flute cut off mid-verse, and the other trailed off right afterwards. No one seemed alarmed or surprised. Most stopped in their tracks, while a few continued prancing for a few moments more before joining the rest and slipped away.
Weena tugged on my arm and gestured at the building behind the trees. “Coome. Hoomee. Eeat.”
I nodded, and we started toward the woods.
The whole way, my new friend held my hand and babbled to me in a mixture of melodic syllables and fractured English. After asking a few questions, I realized I wouldn’t learn anything useful. She either didn’t know the answers, couldn’t communicate them, or I failed to make myself understood. As such, I retreated into my thoughts.
I considered what I’d learned. I knew a fair amount about this world, or at least H.G. Wells’s theories. Meeting the fairies, for that is what I still thought of them as, had been fortunate. If I had followed the path, I might have run into the Morlocks. But about myself, I remained ignorant except for what short flashbacks had shown me.
It was beyond frustrating that I remembered a “fictional” book more clearly than my own history.
The woods soon ended, and we emerged into a wide glen with an enormous ruined mansion in the center. Lichen grew thick on its walls, and time had shattered its #tall stained-glass windows. The remaining geometric panes had slumped like wax candles left in the sun. I doubted the fairies had built it. Instead, some forgotten civilization must have done so.
That thought offered a glimmer of hope. Remnants of that race could still exist. If I found them, I might learn more.
Returning to my survey, I noted #plants heavy with berries, small fruits, and pea-like pods growing throughout the glen. There was no sense of their being planted by the fairy folk. The herbage sprouted in random swatches or alone, just as the wind had scattered their seeds. Amidst this lush abundance, a wide variety of melon vines snaked along the ground. Here too was an untended bounty of yellow, green, and dappled gourds. At the forest's edge grew trees laden with red, purple, and topaz globes. It was no surprise that the protagonist of H.G. Wells’s story had mistaken this for a utopia at first.
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 130, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK
#Wss366 Tall #TimeTravelAuthors 09/5. Plant Grow
The fairy dance ended as suddenly as it had started. One flute cut off mid-verse, and the other trailed off right afterwards. No one seemed alarmed or surprised. Most stopped in their tracks, while a few continued prancing for a few moments more before joining the rest and slipped away.
Weena tugged on my arm and gestured at the building behind the trees. “Coome. Hoomee. Eeat.”
I nodded, and we started toward the woods.
The whole way, my new friend held my hand and babbled to me in a mixture of melodic syllables and fractured English. After asking a few questions, I realized I wouldn’t learn anything useful. She either didn’t know the answers, couldn’t communicate them, or I failed to make myself understood. As such, I retreated into my thoughts.
I considered what I’d learned. I knew a fair amount about this world, or at least H.G. Wells’s theories. Meeting the fairies, for that is what I still thought of them as, had been fortunate. If I had followed the path, I might have run into the Morlocks. But about myself, I remained ignorant except for what short flashbacks had shown me.
It was beyond frustrating that I remembered a “fictional” book more clearly than my own history.
The woods soon ended, and we emerged into a wide glen with an enormous ruined mansion in the center. Lichen grew thick on its walls, and time had shattered its #tall stained-glass windows. The remaining geometric panes had slumped like wax candles left in the sun. I doubted the fairies had built it. Instead, some forgotten civilization must have done so.
That thought offered a glimmer of hope. Remnants of that race could still exist. If I found them, I might learn more.
Returning to my survey, I noted #plants heavy with berries, small fruits, and pea-like pods growing throughout the glen. There was no sense of their being planted by the fairy folk. The herbage sprouted in random swatches or alone, just as the wind had scattered their seeds. Amidst this lush abundance, a wide variety of melon vines snaked along the ground. Here too was an untended bounty of yellow, green, and dappled gourds. At the forest's edge grew trees laden with red, purple, and topaz globes. It was no surprise that the protagonist of H.G. Wells’s story had mistaken this for a utopia at first.
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 130, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK
#Wss366 Tall #TimeTravelAuthors 09/5. Plant Grow
The fairy dance ended as suddenly as it had started. One flute cut off mid-verse, and the other trailed off right afterwards. No one seemed alarmed or surprised. Most stopped in their tracks, while a few continued prancing for a few moments more before joining the rest and slipped away.
Weena tugged on my arm and gestured at the building behind the trees. “Coome. Hoomee. Eeat.”
I nodded, and we started toward the woods.
The whole way, my new friend held my hand and babbled to me in a mixture of melodic syllables and fractured English. After asking a few questions, I realized I wouldn’t learn anything useful. She either didn’t know the answers, couldn’t communicate them, or I failed to make myself understood. As such, I retreated into my thoughts.
I considered what I’d learned. I knew a fair amount about this world, or at least H.G. Wells’s theories. Meeting the fairies, for that is what I still thought of them as, had been fortunate. If I had followed the path, I might have run into the Morlocks. But about myself, I remained ignorant except for what short flashbacks had shown me.
It was beyond frustrating that I remembered a “fictional” book more clearly than my own history.
The woods soon ended, and we emerged into a wide glen with an enormous ruined mansion in the center. Lichen grew thick on its walls, and time had shattered its #tall stained-glass windows. The remaining geometric panes had slumped like wax candles left in the sun. I doubted the fairies had built it. Instead, some forgotten civilization must have done so.
That thought offered a glimmer of hope. Remnants of that race could still exist. If I found them, I might learn more.
Returning to my survey, I noted #plants heavy with berries, small fruits, and pea-like pods growing throughout the glen. There was no sense of their being planted by the fairy folk. The herbage sprouted in random swatches or alone, just as the wind had scattered their seeds. Amidst this lush abundance, a wide variety of melon vines snaked along the ground. Here too was an untended bounty of yellow, green, and dappled gourds. At the forest's edge grew trees laden with red, purple, and topaz globes. It was no surprise that the protagonist of H.G. Wells’s story had mistaken this for a utopia at first.
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 130, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK
#Wss366 Tall #TimeTravelAuthors 09/5. Plant Grow
The fairy dance ended as suddenly as it had started. One flute cut off mid-verse, and the other trailed off right afterwards. No one seemed alarmed or surprised. Most stopped in their tracks, while a few continued prancing for a few moments more before joining the rest and slipped away.
Weena tugged on my arm and gestured at the building behind the trees. “Coome. Hoomee. Eeat.”
I nodded, and we started toward the woods.
The whole way, my new friend held my hand and babbled to me in a mixture of melodic syllables and fractured English. After asking a few questions, I realized I wouldn’t learn anything useful. She either didn’t know the answers, couldn’t communicate them, or I failed to make myself understood. As such, I retreated into my thoughts.
I considered what I’d learned. I knew a fair amount about this world, or at least H.G. Wells’s theories. Meeting the fairies, for that is what I still thought of them as, had been fortunate. If I had followed the path, I might have run into the Morlocks. But about myself, I remained ignorant except for what short flashbacks had shown me.
It was beyond frustrating that I remembered a “fictional” book more clearly than my own history.
The woods soon ended, and we emerged into a wide glen with an enormous ruined mansion in the center. Lichen grew thick on its walls, and time had shattered its #tall stained-glass windows. The remaining geometric panes had slumped like wax candles left in the sun. I doubted the fairies had built it. Instead, some forgotten civilization must have done so.
That thought offered a glimmer of hope. Remnants of that race could still exist. If I found them, I might learn more.
Returning to my survey, I noted #plants heavy with berries, small fruits, and pea-like pods growing throughout the glen. There was no sense of their being planted by the fairy folk. The herbage sprouted in random swatches or alone, just as the wind had scattered their seeds. Amidst this lush abundance, a wide variety of melon vines snaked along the ground. Here too was an untended bounty of yellow, green, and dappled gourds. At the forest's edge grew trees laden with red, purple, and topaz globes. It was no surprise that the protagonist of H.G. Wells’s story had mistaken this for a utopia at first.
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn
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GMBC ep06 - The Great Hippo Heist: Exploring Sarah Gailey's Alternate History, River of Teeth #saragailey #americanhippo #althistory #heist #hippos #tasteofmarrow #historicalfantasy #cowboys #queerlit #queersff #novella #books #ttrpgpodcast https://www.k-squareproductions.com/gmbc
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 129, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK
#Wss366 Cant #TimeTravelAuthors 09/1. Introduce your story (use the word "fall")
The fairy, Weena, turned and spoke to the others, who were now traversing the circle, dancing a graceful yet chaotic dance while singing in the flowing language of her people. One word was clear: “Hurburth.” Upon speaking, she pointed at me. Was that my name or the type of creature I was? I don’t suppose it mattered; there were no other humans they could confuse me with.
I pointed to her and asked, “Who are you?”
“Who?” she asked, cocking her head in puzzlement. Then, touched her chest and said, “Weena—Freenn.” As she said the second word, she took my hand and smiled.
“Friend?” I asked.
She nodded and repeated, “Weena, freennd.”
I looked at her hand, then at her, and then back at her hand. It felt awkward. She seemed to know me and to be attached to me, even intimately. I, however, had no recollection of her. There wasn’t even a hint of familiarity. She was a total stranger.
When I tried tugging my hand free, she pouted, so I stopped. Her childish looks and behavior made me afraid of offending her. I needed an ally, and she was offering.
Meanwhile, the dancers spun around the circle faster and faster: twirling, #canting first to one side and then the other, weaving in and out, but never colliding. The pipes grew shrill, and their voices filled the air like a flock of chickadees. Periodically someone would #fall to the ground panting. Once rested, they either rejoined the dance or came to stare at me. Some stroked my cheeks or hair, while others decked me with flowers or offered me berries and nuts.
“The Time Machine,” I thought. Yeah, I had finally figured out where I was: The sphinx, the garden-like setting amid rhododendrons, effete people, and Weena—it all fit together. So now I knew my name and location, but not my history or why I was there.
I sighed. This adventure seemed all too familiar, yet puzzlingly different from the vague impression I had of my past. I was in a book—weird!
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 128, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK
#Wss366 Violet #TimeTravelAuthors 08/31 Author's choice/promo
While I watched, a crowd of fairy-like creatures emerged from the woods. They were slender, feminine figures with shapely limbs. Each wore a colorful tunic belted at the waist.
A man and a woman led the group, though it was difficult to discern their gender, so similar appeared their features. Small apple-like breasts were the sole difference. The man was garbed in a dusty rose tunic, while the woman wore a #violet one. Crowns of matching flowers encircled their heads. They each played a bamboo flute, and the creatures following them danced to the music, laughing and singing.
I could have run, and perhaps I should have, but they seemed harmless, and if I fled, my chances of learning anything useful would be minimal. Worse came to worst, I could break through their ranks, so frail did they seem.
As they drew nearer, I saw they stood a little over a meter tall. I could make out their Dresden features: smooth faces; small, thin, bright-red lips; large, mild eyes; pointed chins; and delicate noses. Curly hair fell to their necks, hiding their ears, but I imagined elvish ones. Except for the absence of wings, they might have been fairies straight out of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” I would have been a proper ass not to appreciate their fragile beauty.
The majority swirled around me, while a few stopped to poke at me, speaking in strange, sweet, liquid tones. Except for one woman, it was all delightful, but totally incomprehensible. She spoke broken English with an odd lisp. The oddness didn’t stop there; one side of her face had been burned.
“Hurburth?” she asked, embracing me. “Weena miss you.”
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 127, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK
#Wss366 Take #TimeTravelAuthors 08/29. craft
I mulled over my options. Should I follow the flutes? But they gave me the willies. Or should I shout out? That seemed risky. Okay, how about I #take the path? No, if I followed the trail, I would miss my opportunity to investigate the trampled grass.
Fairy circle it was then.
The slope leading down through the meadow was gentle. The grass was lush and weed-free. It brushed pleasantly against my legs, making a soft swishing noise. Clover, buttercups, and daisies made the lawn merry. Soon, I found one of many paths leading toward the fairy ring. Occasionally, I saw a fruit rind, a wilted flower chain, or small shoe prints.
The circle’s bed measured about two meters wide and swung in a lazy curve that would have taken me about five minutes to walk around. The crushed grass gave off a fresh, green scent. It hadn’t been trampled for long.
As I examined the area, the flute music grew louder. Far from sinister, the tune was familiar, and I found myself humming along: “Greensleeves was all my joy, Greensleeves was my delight, Greensleeves was my heart of gold, and who but my lady Greensleeves.”
When I looked toward the sound, I saw a ruined building #crafted of gray, weathered stone rising above the trees and rhododendron thickets. The music seemed to originate from this edifice.
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn
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Aaand today, I learned about this ebook bundle.
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 126, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK
#Wss366 Classic #TimeTravelAuthors 08/19 Many
It was a #classic problem. I had too #many options.
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn
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Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)
Chapter 18 EP 5: Late Jurassic Era, Swiss Highlands
Illuminati or Elder Races is not the choice you want to have.
Plus: #DinosaursTags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 125, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK
#Wss366 Tremor #TimeTravelAuthors 08/17. Does anyone travel to the future? What did they (or would they) think of it?
I made my way back into the meadow at the forest’s edge and sat down where I could see both the woodland path and the trampled circle below. Strawberries gleamed in the nearby grass, and I idly picked a few.
When I sampled one, a tart sweetness spread across my tongue, reminiscent of wild Écouves berries.
The Écouves Forest; that was an odd detail to remember. Even though I had forgotten my past, I still had access to a lot of random information. I understood that was common for people with amnesia.
The fruit was truly delicious, better than ones I’d had at fancy restaurants, like on the Hindenburg.
I stopped, and a #tremor passed through me: another memory! It was just a brief glimpse, but I could extrapolate from it. The Hindenburg crashed in 1937. I didn’t know what the current date was, but nothing like the sphinx had existed in the history I “knew.” This must be the future. Given the age of the monolith, it was the far future!
None of this made sense. Maybe none of it was real. Was I a psychotic patient in a mental ward?
I looked around for any sign that I was hallucinating. I pinched myself. It was a cliché test, but the pain reassured me. My chaotic memories were bizarre, but the world was stable, unlike a delusion or dream. The majestic trees appeared ageless, yet otherwise mundane. There was no sinister overlay to the oaks, ash, and pines. The grass smelled fresh and green. A wind with the subtle scent of summer brushed my cheek. It seemed idyllic. Nothing like the ravings of a mad person. Rather lonely, though.
I gave up on my speculation and followed the flow of my thoughts. I wished Emily were there with me. Yes, Emily! A vague image of a woman arose. She had bobbed, short, black hair, brilliant blue eyes, and a slight Asian cast to her features.
“Emily, Emily, Emily,” I said to myself. Was she my girlfriend, partner, or coworker? Whoever she was, she was important to me.
The last strawberry went into my mouth. She would have loved these. I almost heard her say, “They’re peachy; the cat’s pajamas.” Her deep-timbered voice blended with the sound of flutes.
At first, I thought I’d imagined the music. But no, the wind from the woods was carrying it to me. I wasn’t alone!
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 124, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK
#Wss366 Visit #TimeTravelAuthors 08/15. Saturday excerpt (optional word: match/same)
As rapidly as the image of my mother arose, it disappeared. I guess my appendix scar had come in useful. I had a name again, as well as the hope that I would remember more.
As I rubbed the sphinx’s plaque, I thought about the vision, trying to use it as an entry point into my lost memories. It proved useless. All I came up with was that my mother visited me when I had my appendix removed and a warm feeling for ma mère.
Eventually, I gave up and refocused on the bronze plate. Corrosion blurred the image, but I still made out a naked man with winged shoes and helmet: Hermes. Below, in Latin, it read, “In memory of Prince Henry XI of Greater Albion.”
I stopped and stared. I didn’t know Latin! Yet I read it easily. And the figure… Hermes… Mercury… It #matched a mural I’d seen in a dim tunnel. Right, I’d been in a passage along with my companion Emily. She wasn’t an illusion.
“I had a dream!” I exclaimed out loud.
I desperately reached to recall it. There’d been a pink Eye of Providence and blue dragonflies. Rabbits with guns and swastikas. If I thought fairies unrealistic, then what about these Hieronymus Bosch images?
As hard as I tried, I couldn’t remember.4 more I threw down the rag. I wouldn’t find anything more here.
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 9.1: 2024 Arkam Mass. (Side Story)
#Wss366 Dominant / International Left Hander's Day/Bon JP #TimeTravelAuthors 08/13. Advice your character would give about time travel
Professor Henrietta Dubois looked out over her class. Not one student looked like they were worth her time. Some were there because they thought it was a joke. It wasn’t. Others were there for an easy grade. They were going to be disappointed. A few may have thought it was a literature course. They would be let down as well. And some were just flakes. None of them would make a promising metaphysics student.
“Time-travel,” the professor started. After all, it was the subject of the class. “How many of you would visit another time if you could?”
Half the students raised their hands.
Ms. Dubois nodded. "According to 'Faustus Pact,' 'Pompilius Spiegel,' and the anonymous 'La Main Tauche du Temps,' at least one of which will be required reading, the #dominant belief among time-travelers is that those of you with your hands down are the wise ones."
The professor paused, letting those who could decipher what she had said ruminate on the arcane names and reading requirements. “Let’s make sure they know this is no joke but a serious and rigorous class,” she thought.
She continued: “In other words, don’t.”
Note: “La Main Tauche du Temps” means “Time’s Left Hand.”
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Serial
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Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)
Chapter 17 EP 5: Late #Jurassic Era, Swiss Lowlands
Back to the age of #dinosaurs.
Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial
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Are you in Wyoming? Do you want to read my book for free? I’m in the Wyoming Virtual Library! https://virtuallibrary.overdrive.com/virtuallibrary-80-234/content/media/11081870
#bookstodon #vampirebooks #historicalfantasy #urbanfantasy @[email protected] @[email protected] @bookstodon
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Stegosaurus Ice cream
A #TimeTravelingGhost Side Story
#Wss366 Chief #TimeTravelAuthors 08/7. If your work was an ice cream flavor, what would it be?**Ahead of us, the Jurassic jungle thinned, and the land sloped up. The trees were more widely spaced, but they still obscured my view of the cliffs we were heading towards.
I was grateful to be walking on fallen leaves rather than slogging through the mud. The ferns were still thick in patches, but I threaded my way through them with minimal effort. However, the #chief hazard remained: the native behemoths.
The stagnant air of the swamp was replaced by a gentle breeze blowing through the trees, and my thoughts strayed.
“Ice cream would have been a delightful addition. Hmm, what flavor would my recent adventures be?” I wondered, my fancies taking full flight.
“Something tropical: Mango or peach. Yes, mango would be pleasant. I’d enjoy that. Champagne cocktail flavor would be more appropriate, but do they even make that flavor? Okay, no cheating. How about horehound? That had a nice, old-fashioned sound. I guess that would be cheating too. Sarsaparilla then. That was an old-timey name for root beer, or at least I think.”
I should have paid more attention, as I received a nasty shock when a stegosaurus burst from behind a grove of trees where it had been hidden.
Fortunately, it wasn’t a carnivore. The only damage I sustained was a near-heart attack as the immense beast lumbered past. It was almost comical, with its plates rattling and its tail striking trees as it thudded past. There was a chipped plate midway down its back. It was only funny because I was far enough away that the tail posed no threat.
A minute later, Emily landed and apologised for not spotting it.
She looked nonplussed when I asked her, “Do you think a stegosaurus would like sarsaparilla ice cream?”
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Dinosaurs #Humor
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Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)
Chapter 15: EP 4: 1937, Gardner Island, Midnight
Bijou and Emily find Amelia Earhart.
Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial #AmeliaEarhart
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#TimeTravelingGhostV2 EP 12: Post 123, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK
#Wss366 Puzzle #TimeTravelAuthors 08/3. Where does your main character live/where are they from?
As the images from my dream faded, I began to panic. The earlier questions haunted me: “Who was I? Where was I? Where had I come from?”
I had the strange conviction that I wasn’t from this time or place. That knowledge had been lost somewhere in the mists of time. What an odd way of putting it. Surely I meant lost in the void of my memory?
No, I meant the former: “Lost in time.”
I shook my head and struggled to my feet. I wouldn’t find any answers lying there. It was of the utmost importance that I learn more.
There it was again: that feeling of almost knowing. I knew the fate of the world depended on my piercing this veil of ignorance. That conviction burned in my mind.
I took stock of my surroundings: the Sphinx, crop circle, path into the forest, tiny wild strawberries winking at me in the grass. I #puzzled over what I should do first.
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Sapphic #Slowburn
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 12: Post 122, 1,802,701 CE, Middlesex, UK
#Wss366 August #TimeTravelAuthors 08/1. Introduce your story (optional: use the word "wish")
For a long time, all I could focus on was the blue sky. A single, wispy cloud floated there. Then, my eyes drifted down to a marble sphinx that loomed over me, wings folded at its sides. I examined, uncomprehending, the weathered stains and moss growing in the creases of its sides. Ferns grew on its paws, along with a solitary scrubby bush. I felt heavy, and my brain was fuzzy. Then the questions occurred to me: “Who am I?” and “Where was I?”
The situation was dimly familiar. Hadn’t I forgotten everything before? Right, there had been that alley with the graffiti of the Eye of Providence, or was it a pink coral pyramid with giant azure dragonflies? I #wished I could remember, but it was all a jumble.
“Think! Think!”
“Rabbits and Templars. I had been fleeing them. Why? A meeting… Cyprus… 1191. That must be why I’m wearing medieval priest’s robes. And something about their calling a meteor to destroy humanity.”
I shuddered at the image of a flaming ball crossing a blue sky. Suddenly, a hot flash caused me to flush, leaving me uncomfortably damp with sweat.
I parted the grass I lay in, looking for Emily, but I was alone in a forest of #august oaks: gnarled trees whose branches brushed the Sphinx’s sides. Tall ferns crowded its bronze base, a path threading through them.
“Emily?” I muttered. Then, turning my head to look for her, I saw an open meadow sloping away from me. In its center lay a large trampled circle where feet had beaten down the grass.
“Fairies?” I asked myself. But that was crazy.
It must have all been a wild, vivid nightmare. Who’d ever heard of fairies or rabbits with rifles? The vision of them in Nazi uniforms and Templar surcoats flared in my mind and then faded.
A dream? It all had to be a confused vision, and Emily must be a figment of my sleeping brain. Why did that make me want to cry?
A tear ran down my cheek.
Welcome to volume two of “Bijou the Time-Traveling Ghost.” We open in the far future, 1,802,701 of the Common Era, and with poor Bijou only vaguely remembering Emily, the Lapin Cabal, the Illuminati, Templars, and the Covenant of Judas.
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 11: Post 121, 1191, The Castle of Nicosia
#Wss366 Brandy #TimeTravelAuthors 07/31. Author's choice/promo
The canister held by the Grand Marshal’s attendants was bullet-shaped, the size of a large artillery shell, and dull black like anodized aluminum. No twelfth-century smith had forged this futuristic object.
“I present Simon Magus risen from the dead,” said Sir Sablé with reverence.
A murmur swept through the room. Near me, a man muttered, “Magus? What heresy is this?”
Sablé’s hands passed over the container, and the front slid back. The vessel was definitely not of twelfth-century origin. It couldn’t even have been constructed in my own era. A head with a short, curly beard, and Palestinian features was revealed. His skin was an unhealthy color, blotched like ivory that had been buried for centuries.
Another murmur arose, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Montferrat’s hand clench; knuckles white. Was his displeasure with this conclave the true reason for his assassination?
Simon opened his eyes and spoke, “Silence, for on your account I have risen; that I may guide the lost sheep and hasten the coming of our Lord.”
“But wait,” he continued. “I sense one who is not of you: a spider garbed as a holy dove.”
His eyes, the color of #brandy, burnt into me, and he began spewing Latin. “Te maledico ut sis terrenus. Alae tuae mihi caeduntur.”
I grew heavy, and the room seemed to be bathed in light. Knowledge flooded my mind: the bishop was Philippe de Dreux of Beauvais, hated by King Richard; and the Grand Marshal’s attendants were Gilbert Horal and Brother Aimery, Marshal of the Temple. I had come to the Holy Lands after my wife, Mary, had died in childbirth.
I suddenly understood Simon’s Latin. “I bind you. Ensnare you in your own web,” he chanted.
Emily was rushing towards me, but I felt weak and sick. I had only moments to react. I was being bound to this time.
“In the sacred and forbidden names of the Lord, be cursed…”
I wished to be far away, safely beyond the reach of the Lapin Cabal and its allies.
The lights flickered, and I felt as if my soul was being torn from my body. Then darkness descended.
When I awoke, I was lying in tall grass. Above me stood a weathered marble phoenix, perched on a bronze base. I looked around. I was alone. Emily was nowhere to be seen.
Thus ends Volume I of “Bijou the Time-Traveling Ghost.” We have traveled from the birth of a spirit robbed of all memory of herself to the discovery of an eon-old conspiracy to destroy the world as we know it. An illustrated and revised version of this story is currently being serialized at:
If you would like to catch up or are interested in reading an improved version, please join me on one of those sites.
Nara Moore
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Templar #Templars
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 11: Post 120, 1191, The Castle of Nicosia (2 of 2 parts)
#Wss366 Boner #TimeTravelAuthors 07/29. proof/prove
Sir Sablé began winding down after the big announcement confirming the link between the book we had seen in the British Museum and the current meeting, saying, “Let the fruits of this gathering, our Garden of Gethsemane, be known as ‘The Covenant of St. Judas.’”
There were murmurs of dissent around me, and Sir Conrad's face showed his dissatisfaction. Frankly, I had to agree. I wouldn’t have been swayed either by the blatant heresy of his words.
However, the Grand Marshal was prepared for this and announced, “Some of you still doubt me. That is nothing new; even those who heard Our Lord with their own ears did not believe Him. Therefore, I shall show you the sign entrusted to me.”
He nodded to his attendants. They turned to leave, only to stop when Sir Conrad spoke. “And of King Henry?”
The Templar frowned and might have objected, but Conrad was too important a person to ignore.
“Henry is not privy to this conclave,” Sir Sablé said. “Let the Lord of England do what he does best: fight the infidels. Bois-Guilbert and Lancaster are here as John’s envoys. I have his noble word of support for our venture. Are you satisfied, Montferrat?” (So I was right; he was Sir Conrad of Montferrat. I was a tiny fish swimming with this era’s barracudas.)
“I am,” he answered. His face told a different story: grim, hard, and skeptical.
Sir Sablé’s knights left, soon returning with a metal canister. The sight turned me cold. Although the Grand Master presented it as a holy thing, I could sense its abominable nature. What fresh horror was about to be revealed?
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Templar
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 11: Post 120, 1191, The Castle of Nicosia (1 of 2 parts)
#Wss366 Boner #TimeTravelAuthors 07/29. proof/prove
“You may be seated,” Sir Sablé said. The Grand Master of the Templars’ voice was dignified, higher than one might expect, but the tone was that of someone accustomed to command. “Bishop Dreux, will you honor this gathering with a prayer?”
I recognized the priest he had called on as the person who’d challenged Sir Conrad earlier. Even though he was a bishop, he was clearly also a fighting man: strong, scarred; the bulk of his robes hinted at chain mail beneath. I didn’t understand the brief Latin prayer he led. It was a pity I hadn’t learned Latin at university.
While we prayed, Emily left my side, moving to the dais so she could hear what the rabbits were saying to Sir Sablé. It was a decision that would later #prove disastrous. A real #boner, as some of my cruder students might have said. (Why did these memories come back to me when I couldn’t follow up on them?)
Once the prayer had finished, the Grand Master addressed us. “You have been called here in the Lord’s name and shall be blessed for your piety…”
He continued in this vein for a while, and most of what he said wasn’t worth repeating. However, other parts of his speech had stunning implications.
- “Though unworthy, the Lord hath lifted me from the dust as our Lord Jesus did Mary Magdalene, and a heavenly host has vouchsafed me words. Today, I humbly bear their message for your ears.”
Behind him the rabbits made ironic bows that he couldn’t see.
- “As Saint Judas Iscariot sacrificed himself to bring about our Savior’s glorious act of redemption, we too are summoned to make the ultimate sacrifice, our honor. We may be reviled for our deeds, but we the faithful shall show the same devotion, to God’s will, Abraham did when the Lord commanded him to sacrifice his son. We will hold fast, knowing that our obedience is required to invoke the Third Coming, bringing a fiery end to this sinful race, Adam’s kin, and to call down the final judgment when the Lord’s hammer smites the world once again.”
A groan escaped me. For an instant I could see the Cretaceous–Paleogene fireball streaking across the sky, setting me ablaze. Fortunately, Sir Sablé’s speech had everyone enthralled, or perhaps they thought it was a gasp of wonder.
It was part intuition and part logic that led me to conclude that the Lapin Cabal intended to bring a meteor down on the world, as had happened in Yucatán. How or why I didn’t know. To this end, they recruited the gullible, the ambitious, and the truly wicked to do their bidding. The Templars, Illuminati, Nazis, and ICE-Nine were just examples of this.
The implications were staggering, and from Emily’s face, she recognized it too.
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Templar #Templars
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Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)
EP 4: 1937, Gardner Island, Early Night
Careless wishes get messy results.
Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial #AmeliaEarhart
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 11: Post 119, 1191, The Castle of Nicosia
#Wss366 North #TimeTravelAuthors 07/25. unite/together
Things in the council chamber soon settled back to how they had been before, with people ignoring me. I was small potatoes and, having incurred the ire of Sir Conrad, I was not someone to befriend.
Meanwhile, talk of King Richard advancing from the #north towards the Holy City was rife at one end of the room. On the other side of the room, Sir Conrad was extolling the need to #unite under his banner, emphasizing how feuding over the throne of Jerusalem weakened the defense of the lands they’d secured. I couldn’t help wondering what would happen if I warned him that he would be assassinated by the end of next year.
Silence fell as two knights entered and ascended the dais. Everyone rose, and the Templars dropped to one knee. The rest of us bowed our heads as a lean, muscular man followed them. His face was that of a warrior: short, grey-streaked hair, darkly tanned, a trimmed beard, and a scar over his left eye. A lapin dressed as a Templar page stood on either side of him.
His human attendants announced, “Sir Robert IV de Sablé, Grand Master of the Holy and Valiant Order of the Knights Templar, Lord of Cyprus.”
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Templar #Templars
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Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)
EP 3: 2025, Miskatonic University II (Skully’s Office)
Bijou and Emily learn the basics of time-travel before fleeing from ICE-Nine.
Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial
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And this is what happens when your ambition outpaces your intention
#TheHeirsLair #Review #BookReview #Historical #Fantasy #HistoricalFantasy #HistoricalReview #FantasyReview #TheHussiteTrilogy #LightPerpetual #BookSky💙📚 #scififantasyspecfic
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 11: Post 118, 1191, The Castle of Nicosia
#Wss366 Foil #TimeTravelAuthors 07/15. fail/loss
Breathing seemed to have stopped in the chamber as people awaited Sir Conrad’s answer. He was clearly someone whose opinion was important to the Templars. My guess was he was Conrad of Montferrat, a contender for the crown of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. If he objected to my presence or challenged my identity further, I would be at a #loss on how to remedy the situation. The worst outcome would be that he’d have me arrested.
Emily grasped my hand, and I prepared to time-trip away if our plan was #foiled.
“You may stay,” the lord said. “But I’ll insist you enjoy the hospitality of my camp after the council. I trust you will provide more proofs.”
I bowed and took my seat, aware that Conrad’s gaze was still on me.
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Templar #Templars
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Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost (2nd Edition)
Episode 3: 2025, Miskatonic University I
Bijou meets some old ¿Friends?
Tags: #TimeTravel #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Sappfic #Serial
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youtu.be/albuya6LA44
I'm feeling mixed about this media product. Good book, but what does it lead to?
#TheHeirsLair #Review #BookReview #TheHussiteTrilogy #WarriorsOfGod #Historical #Fantasy #HistoricalFantasy #FantasyReview #HistoricalFantasyReview #BookSky #scififantasyspecfic
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 11: Post 117, 1191, The Castle of Nicosia
#Wss366 Sty #TimeTravelAuthors 07/11 Saturday breathe/breath
When the conclave ended, I needed to talk with Emily. She wouldn’t say things like that unless she meant more. Although we had only known each other for a few weeks, I hoped her flattering words weren’t just fluff. Right now, though, I needed to focus on my Templar impersonation.
Even if I had wanted to discuss our relationship then, I couldn’t, as Petros had returned with what turned out to be one of the worst meals I’d ever faced: tough, fatty meat and coarse, gritty bread. With the help of the sour wine, I choked it down. I had no choice but to eat it if I wanted to maintain my pretense.
Relief came partway through the meal, when another servant arrived announcing: “If you will follow me, M’Lord.”
I handed Petros the remains of the food and followed the servant into the courtyard and to the central citadel. At the door, we passed a squad of knights in full armor standing guard. They were grim figures, many with scarred faces visible beneath their helmets. Even the fortress gate hadn’t been guarded this well.
Once inside, I was led to a chamber dominated by a raised dais at the far end. Men sat in chairs around a table running down the center of the room, their gazes turned to fix on me. Brian de Bois-Guilbert rose from one of the chairs and announced, “Sir William de Lancaster, in the service of my friend the Prior of Aymer.”
“I heard you died,” another voice said.
Silence fell, and all the faces turned to look at the speaker: a man with a full, trimmed beard and narrow eyes. A #sty marred his handsome Latin features.
“Lord Conrad, I vouch for him,” Bois-Guilbert replied.
The man waved a hand, dismissing the objection. “Let the Lancaster speak for himself. Matters are too weighty for him to remain unchallenged.”
Sir Brian’s face grew red, but he remained silent.
I took a deep #breath, pointed to my throat, and choked out: “Miracle… Swallowed… Lead…Released…”
A third voice spoke, a bishop by his appearance. “My lord, Marquis, what say you? Will you deny the Lord’s miracle?”
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Sapphic
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 11: Post 116, 1191, The Castle of Nicosia
#Wss366 West #TimeTravelAuthors 07/3 Main character’s appearance
Sir Bois-Guilbert led me to a limestone room on the #west side of the inner courtyard. The unadorned chamber was furnished with plain wooden furniture, emphasizing function over aesthetics. This wasn’t a barracks, nor was it a stateroom. The choice of the room made clear my status in Bois-Guilbert’s estimation.
“I’ll announce your arrival,” the noble said. “We weren’t expecting you.”
He gestured to a silent, bow-headed servant standing in the background to hand me a goblet of wine. The man’s status was clear not only by his subservience but also by his rough, spun white robes.
“Petros here will take care of your needs,” the noble said, then dipped his head and departed.
Emily waved adieu and followed closely on his heels.
She wasn’t gone long before she drifted in again, signaling for me to get rid of the servant.
“Petros, food.” I kept my order brief. It felt odd to treat someone with such arrogance, but it was in keeping with my role.
After Petros genuflected and left, I turned to Emily. “Go ahead, but hurry. We don’t know how soon he’ll be back.”
"They suspect nothing," she said. "There was some talk of the miracle, but no one suspects anything. What will you say if you're asked about it?"
I touched my throat. “When I refused to recant my faith, they forced me to drink lead. Upon my miraculous survival, I was released.”
“It's a good lie,” Emily said, resuming her report. “You need to take care, though. I found drawings of you and Georgina. They’re not very good, but they look enough like you that if someone compared them to you, they might guess your true identity.”
She smiled. “Your figure was Rubenesque and your face was rounder, rather than trim and modern. The nose was especially bad, largish, no match for your cute, button-like nose. You’re wearing a white Grecian gown, like something from a painting of Roman gods. They had your hair correct: flaxen with porcelain skin. As long as you don't speak, they won't suspect anything. Your French sounds nothing like theirs.”
“Trim and modern?” “Cute button nose?” “Porcelain skin?” I blushed.
“I’ll do that,” I said, barely keeping from stuttering.
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Sapphic
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 11: Post 115, 1191, The Castle of Nicosia
#Wss366 Carbon #TimeTravelAuthors 07/1 Introduce your time travel story
The sergeant glanced at Lot’s ring and said, “Wait,” and gestured to a soldier.
“I’ll be back to warn you if there's a problem,” Emily said as she followed the man into the fortress. I grew nervous as we separated; what if I had to time-trip away?
That wasn’t why I was sweating. Though the noon temperatures were quite temperate, I was standing in the sun. Nor could it have been the situation we were headed into, the heart of the Templar/Lapin conspiracy.
Who was I kidding? It was both. I was on the verge of learning what the Illuminated Ones and other assorted villains were up to. Maybe I would even learn why I had been reincarnated as a time-traveler. Either that or fleeing, having given my enemies warning that I was sniffing around their doings. The dime could drop at any moment and my partner might or might not be there to escape with me.
I didn’t have long to wait before a man dressed in a Templar’s surcoat emerged, accompanied by Emily. You could tell his status at a glance; instead of the more common coarse cotton or wool cloth we had seen so far, his clothes were made of richly embroidered material trimmed with ermine. The surcoat was made of good quality silk. His hair was well-tended, oiled, and, I think, perfumed.
There was nothing of the dandy about him, though. The sword at his side would have taken both my arms to lift. However, his heavily muscled arms would have had no trouble with this task. Stern blue eyes stared out at me from a weathered face, tanned by the Palestinian sun.
“Brian de Bois-Guilbert,” Emily announced.
I bowed and, in a hoarse whisper, said, “My humble greeting, Sir Bois-Guilbert,” pointing to my throat. This was a man with whom I daren’t take risks. If he heard my French, I’m sure it would betray me.
“Sir William, it is good to see you alive. This is a most welcome miracle.” He replied. Then, in a sterner voice, he said, “Your ring.”
I held out Lot’s ring.
He pulled off a glove and compared the ring on his hand with the one on mine. Finding them #carbon-copies a smile broke out on his face. “This is indeed an unlooked-for pleasure. Welcome and enter. We must find you a stirrup cup to celebrate your arrival.”
I had passed the first hurdle.
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Sapphic
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 11: Post 114 1191, The Castle of Nicosia
#Wss366 East #TimeTravelAuthors 06/27 Promo
The lights dimmed as the guards’ grim countenances replaced Georgina’s. There was no pleasure to be found there, but no knives appeared.
We had appeared in a spartan room, bare except for a bed and a carved cross hanging in a light patch on the wall, suggesting that an icon had been there not long before.
I beckoned toward the door, and the guards stood. They led the way out of the chamber, down wooden stairs, and into a common room filled with soldiers bearing coats of arms from various European houses. King Richard’s lion rampant and the Templar’s cross dominated, with the latter particularly prevalent.
The occupants stared, muttered, and exchanged hostile looks with our guides as we passed. Hands touched swords and daggers, but no one drew them. The day was still early, and even though the room reeked of wine, its inhabitants were moderately sober. I shuddered to think what might have happened later in the evening.
I left the building with a sigh of relief that nothing worse than a few insults being hurled at us and a smell like uncleaned stables.
The castle lay #east of the inn and was surprisingly modest. Until that moment, I had imagined a great Crusader fortress. Instead, a square, pale limestone Byzantine enceinte rose above the city, enclosing a central keep barely taller than the outer walls. White banners bearing red Templar crosses fluttered from the battlements while Frankish men-at-arms kept watch beside the gatehouse.
Our guides melted away into the crowd, leaving us to approach alone. At the gate, a sergeant and two soldiers greeted me in French. I muttered, “William de Lancaster, here from England for the conclave,” and showed them the ring.
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Sapphic
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 113 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
#Wss366 Paper #TimeTravelAuthors 06/25. Proud
In the morning, we met Georgina in the shrine’s courtyard. The sky above was the color of fine linen #paper, tinged with satiny pinks in the east. I didn’t know if that was a good or bad omen.
“Are you sure you don’t need an escort to the fortress?” our guide asked.
“I’m positive. Just tell me where it’s safe to appear. The Lord will take care of the rest,” I said.
“We have secured a room for you at Michael's Inn just outside the fortress gates. The guards you met yesterday await you there. I pray St. George and the Theotokos guard you.”
Kneeling, I let Georgina bless me. I wasn’t too #proud to accept any help that was offered. This included divine or supernatural aid. I had seen enough to believe in its existence.
“May the Lord and all the apostles protect you from the Evil One,” she finished.
Still on my knees, I asked, “When am I expected?”
“Before the sun reaches its zenith. That’s when the conclave begins.”
I nodded, took Emily’s hand, and wished, “Take me to the room at Michael’s Inn where the Coptic guards await me, an hour before noon.”
The ground grew soft under me, and the monks' faces blurred and then vanished.
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 112 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
#Wss366 gelatinous #TimeTravelAuthors 06/23. Do any characters use certain words/phrases/speech styles?
Emily and I could have time-tripped to the castle immediately, but the conclave wasn’t until tomorrow. Besides, would they even let us in at night? We certainly shouldn’t trip right into the fortress.
In the meantime, one of the shrine’s servants used a #gelatinous substance made from ground walnut shells and herbs to dye my hair brown. She also stained my teeth so they wouldn't be a brilliant white. There was nothing she could do about their health, but at least I wouldn’t have a twenty-first-century smile. I found it all gross.
My partner, on the other hand, was in fine fettle, spouting thirties jargon. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. You’ll look peachy when she’s finished.”
I stuck my tongue out at her. “You’re funny. Not!” I retorted, being careful not to move my head.
“You’re a hoot when you get your Irish up.”
“Whatever,” I said, falling silent.
“You know I’m only pulling your leg.”
I laughed. It was a game we played. The maid was giving me an odd look, though, so I stopped. All she could see was me talking to thin air and making faces.
After my hair and teeth were finished and the servant left, my partner and I made plans for the following day, which mainly consisted of going over hand signals. That done, we turned to playing cards, poorly. The anticipation of the next day's adventure weighed on us, so our play was desultory and error-ridden.
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 111 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus
#Wss366 deliverance #TimeTravelAuthors 06/19. Do characters travel through space, or just time?
I reached and took the ring from Georgina. It tingled like a spider walking across my palm. The front featured an emblazoned ivory crest. What was engraved there gave me a chill: a comet or shooting star above a dragon rampant.
“The mark of the Ancient Serpent,” our host said.
In my hand was a ring of power that would draw its bearer into the service of a greater malevolence.
I muttered in English so only Emily understood, “In the darkness to bind them.” I would have to repeat the whole rhyme and explain it to her later.
My fingers closed around the artifact. I didn’t know what evil I faced, but something had surely restored me to existence to combat it. As for Emily, I knew where she stood. She had never been one to shy away from danger.
I looked at Georgina and said, “I am your servant. Tell me what to do.”
She gave a grave nod while my partner threw me a thumbs-up, a gesture I had taught her.
“You’re William de Lancaster,” our host said, “in the service of the Prior of Aymer and have recently escaped from the infidels. We’ll provide you with priest robes and a hood, so you can play the part. Walnut dye so your hair shines not so bright. William was a youth, so your smooth face and voice should not be an issue. Still, keep your countenance hidden and speak as little as possible.”
I nodded, memorizing the information.
“The ring will allow you to enter the castle and attend the conclave. Reaching the fortress is our main challenge, as the people despise the Frankish priests and may waylay us.”
“That won’t be a problem,” I said. “I can travel to any place or time you direct. My concern is not being observed when I appear.”
She nodded and resumed. “Tell them you carry the concerns of certain English bishops. Your presence requires no further explanation. Brian de Bois-Guilbert may question you, since there were reports of your capture and death at Acre. Reply that you were indeed captured but owe your #deliverance from the infidels to the grace of God. If he presses you further, say you escaped Salah ad-Din’s massacre of prisoners due to a miracle. Otherwise, remain silent; your French won’t pass as William’s.”
I nodded again.
“I can’t help you with what you will find in the castle, but your silence and the ring should carry you through. When you leave, I will have an escort waiting for you.”
“No need,” I said. “I’ll appear in this shrine’s courtyard in a week’s time.”
“Then rest well tonight, for tomorrow you enter the Evil One’s lair. May God and the Theotokos be with you.”
#TootFic #NMFic #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #Serial #Slowburn #Yuri
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Bijou the #TimeTravelingGhost
#TimeTravelAuthors 1. Introduce your story
Meet Bijou, a time-tripping “ghost” without a past and her companion Emily, late of the Hindenburg disaster, as they attempt to unravel the mysteries of #TimeTravel, #Illuminati, #KnightsTemplar, and Lapan Cabal.
Visit Amelia Earhart, Nostradamus, Faust, and others in a landscape spanning from the Cretaceous–Paleogene extinction event to the wastelands of the future, with stop-offs on the Hindenburg, Titanic, and Crusader Cyprus.
It’s a sophisticated #sapphic pulp-inspired story reminiscent of Edgar Rice Burroughs, without the baggage.
Revised, edited, and retconed.
Tags: #Fantasy #UrbanFantasy #HistoricalFantasy #LightNovel #Romance #Queer #Serial
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Are you in Toronto? Do you want to read my book for free? The Toronto Public Library has it on Overdrive!
https://toronto.overdrive.com/media/11081870
#bookstodon #toronto #vampirebooks #historicalfantasy @[email protected] @[email protected] @bookstodon
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I’m looking for audiobook reviewers.
Do you love vampires with strong historical backstories? Do you love dual timelines? Do you love multi-narrator audiobooks?
You might love this!
#bookstodon #vampirebooks #fantasy #urbanfantasy #historicalfantasy @[email protected] @[email protected] @bookstodon
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Surprisingly (it surprised me!!) I have a novelette release today! And it's on... Steam 😲
"I Shall Guard You" in the tie-in anthology for the game King Arthur: Knight's Tale, titled Chronicles of Avalon!
Public & free Patreon post about it, with more info, how to buy, etc:
https://www.patreon.com/posts/new-novelette-i-75099932
#BogiWrites #KingArthur #TieIn #GamesWriting #Fantasy #HistoricalFantasy #Bookstodon #Steam #SRPG #TurnBased #Arthurian
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Woohoo! I have officially met my 2022 #Goodreads goal! I'm still sewing, have an audiobook out on Libby, and have 15 books on my "Currently Reading" list, but I feel like I can maybe finally start the three hardback books that have been at the top of my TBR for a while: a sequel (A Venom Dark and Sweet), a spinoff (Foul Lady Fortune), and the first of a new duology (Daughter of the Moon Goddess).