#novels — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #novels, aggregated by home.social.
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Edwidge Danticat on Haitian Americans in a Time of Peril
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Edwidge Danticat on Haitian Americans in a Time of Peril
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Edwidge Danticat on Haitian Americans in a Time of Peril
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Edwidge Danticat on Haitian Americans in a Time of Peril
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Edwidge Danticat on Haitian Americans in a Time of Peril
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Well that is it. This is the last entry/segment/piece of Beware the Ills. Thank you everyone who has seen this through till the end. It meant a lot to me. It was my first and favorite book. What a story.
#writing #reading #fiction #books #novels #horror #fantasy #darkfantasy #steampunk
https://patrickwmarshauthor.wordpress.com/2026/09/04/beware-the-ills-part-59/
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Well that is it. This is the last entry/segment/piece of Beware the Ills. Thank you everyone who has seen this through till the end. It meant a lot to me. It was my first and favorite book. What a story.
#writing #reading #fiction #books #novels #horror #fantasy #darkfantasy #steampunk
https://patrickwmarshauthor.wordpress.com/2026/09/04/beware-the-ills-part-59/
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Well that is it. This is the last entry/segment/piece of Beware the Ills. Thank you everyone who has seen this through till the end. It meant a lot to me. It was my first and favorite book. What a story.
#writing #reading #fiction #books #novels #horror #fantasy #darkfantasy #steampunk
https://patrickwmarshauthor.wordpress.com/2026/09/04/beware-the-ills-part-59/
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Well that is it. This is the last entry/segment/piece of Beware the Ills. Thank you everyone who has seen this through till the end. It meant a lot to me. It was my first and favorite book. What a story.
#writing #reading #fiction #books #novels #horror #fantasy #darkfantasy #steampunk
https://patrickwmarshauthor.wordpress.com/2026/09/04/beware-the-ills-part-59/
-
Well that is it. This is the last entry/segment/piece of Beware the Ills. Thank you everyone who has seen this through till the end. It meant a lot to me. It was my first and favorite book. What a story.
#writing #reading #fiction #books #novels #horror #fantasy #darkfantasy #steampunk
https://patrickwmarshauthor.wordpress.com/2026/09/04/beware-the-ills-part-59/
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Beware the Ills: Part 59
I can feel the opening, a coolness spreading into my abdomen. It was in his sleeve. I have been stabbed, a dagger, rusty and covered with poison. It belonged to them, his people from long ago.
He must’ve dug it up here in the graveyard one day.
I’m on one knee. The poison’s working already. I need to leave here.
Of all places, I can’t die here.
She’s running over to me. She’s safe. She stops to look at Haukter and then back at me. She reaches for his hood, and mangled fur.
“Don’t touch him,” I manage to whisper. It’ll be hard to speak.
She looks at me with a strange mixture of surprise.
“I don’t want to know how he looks. Just leave him alone.”
More snow falling, the wind whirls quietly. She steps away from him and approaches me. I can hear the waves, I swear it.
“Please, please, help me get to the shore.”
I don’t think I’ll be able to talk anymore.
I lean on her as we walk. She’s strong and gentle against my shaky feet. I use every bit of strength to keep the blackness of the poison away. She’s walking and pulling me as fast as she can.
Soon we’re on the hills next to the shore. Our walk through the forest was a blur, a blood induced haze. I have lost my concept of time.
But I can still hear the lovely waves roaring.
She walks me to the edge of the forest where the ground slants down onto the white sand. She stops there, staring at the lapping black waves. She helps me sit down against a tree above the sand. Snow falls on us as we rest against its grey trunk. The evening sun has started to vanish above the lines of sea-clouds.
“Bring me to the water please?” I ask feebly. It’s rather embarrassing, my weakness. I’m not in a position for vanity. I will never again be in the position for it. She kneels down beside me and takes the black glove off my right hand. There’s blood on it, it’s soaked through. She holds my hand with a gentle, trembling softness. The invaders leftover ships bob on the black water like memories. She looks out at the shore and dark sea with dreaming eyes.
“No, you can’t get your way,” she says. She smiles behind her lips. I hope she can return safely.
I smile truthfully, and happily. I didn’t expect this kindness of not being alone. More blood-haze and faraway thoughts fill my inner eyes. Memories of dying faces, the Shingles, and those tortured Ills brush by me like phantoms. My heart feels heavy for them, and my mind can’t focus on anything, just all matters of past and present. I think of myself, and all my actions, and it’s as if two minds were within me. The one killing in the open and the other deep within me hoping and praying.
I would change.
Snow is falling. The waves roll back and forth against the sand endlessly.
The water looks so cold, so black, and so limitless.
It is beautiful.
#books #darkfantasy #fantasy #fiction #horror #novels #reading #steampunk #writing -
Beware the Ills: Part 59
I can feel the opening, a coolness spreading into my abdomen. It was in his sleeve. I have been stabbed, a dagger, rusty and covered with poison. It belonged to them, his people from long ago.
He must’ve dug it up here in the graveyard one day.
I’m on one knee. The poison’s working already. I need to leave here.
Of all places, I can’t die here.
She’s running over to me. She’s safe. She stops to look at Haukter and then back at me. She reaches for his hood, and mangled fur.
“Don’t touch him,” I manage to whisper. It’ll be hard to speak.
She looks at me with a strange mixture of surprise.
“I don’t want to know how he looks. Just leave him alone.”
More snow falling, the wind whirls quietly. She steps away from him and approaches me. I can hear the waves, I swear it.
“Please, please, help me get to the shore.”
I don’t think I’ll be able to talk anymore.
I lean on her as we walk. She’s strong and gentle against my shaky feet. I use every bit of strength to keep the blackness of the poison away. She’s walking and pulling me as fast as she can.
Soon we’re on the hills next to the shore. Our walk through the forest was a blur, a blood induced haze. I have lost my concept of time.
But I can still hear the lovely waves roaring.
She walks me to the edge of the forest where the ground slants down onto the white sand. She stops there, staring at the lapping black waves. She helps me sit down against a tree above the sand. Snow falls on us as we rest against its grey trunk. The evening sun has started to vanish above the lines of sea-clouds.
“Bring me to the water please?” I ask feebly. It’s rather embarrassing, my weakness. I’m not in a position for vanity. I will never again be in the position for it. She kneels down beside me and takes the black glove off my right hand. There’s blood on it, it’s soaked through. She holds my hand with a gentle, trembling softness. The invaders leftover ships bob on the black water like memories. She looks out at the shore and dark sea with dreaming eyes.
“No, you can’t get your way,” she says. She smiles behind her lips. I hope she can return safely.
I smile truthfully, and happily. I didn’t expect this kindness of not being alone. More blood-haze and faraway thoughts fill my inner eyes. Memories of dying faces, the Shingles, and those tortured Ills brush by me like phantoms. My heart feels heavy for them, and my mind can’t focus on anything, just all matters of past and present. I think of myself, and all my actions, and it’s as if two minds were within me. The one killing in the open and the other deep within me hoping and praying.
I would change.
Snow is falling. The waves roll back and forth against the sand endlessly.
The water looks so cold, so black, and so limitless.
It is beautiful.
#books #darkfantasy #fantasy #fiction #horror #novels #reading #steampunk #writing -
Beware the Ills: Part 59
I can feel the opening, a coolness spreading into my abdomen. It was in his sleeve. I have been stabbed, a dagger, rusty and covered with poison. It belonged to them, his people from long ago.
He must’ve dug it up here in the graveyard one day.
I’m on one knee. The poison’s working already. I need to leave here.
Of all places, I can’t die here.
She’s running over to me. She’s safe. She stops to look at Haukter and then back at me. She reaches for his hood, and mangled fur.
“Don’t touch him,” I manage to whisper. It’ll be hard to speak.
She looks at me with a strange mixture of surprise.
“I don’t want to know how he looks. Just leave him alone.”
More snow falling, the wind whirls quietly. She steps away from him and approaches me. I can hear the waves, I swear it.
“Please, please, help me get to the shore.”
I don’t think I’ll be able to talk anymore.
I lean on her as we walk. She’s strong and gentle against my shaky feet. I use every bit of strength to keep the blackness of the poison away. She’s walking and pulling me as fast as she can.
Soon we’re on the hills next to the shore. Our walk through the forest was a blur, a blood induced haze. I have lost my concept of time.
But I can still hear the lovely waves roaring.
She walks me to the edge of the forest where the ground slants down onto the white sand. She stops there, staring at the lapping black waves. She helps me sit down against a tree above the sand. Snow falls on us as we rest against its grey trunk. The evening sun has started to vanish above the lines of sea-clouds.
“Bring me to the water please?” I ask feebly. It’s rather embarrassing, my weakness. I’m not in a position for vanity. I will never again be in the position for it. She kneels down beside me and takes the black glove off my right hand. There’s blood on it, it’s soaked through. She holds my hand with a gentle, trembling softness. The invaders leftover ships bob on the black water like memories. She looks out at the shore and dark sea with dreaming eyes.
“No, you can’t get your way,” she says. She smiles behind her lips. I hope she can return safely.
I smile truthfully, and happily. I didn’t expect this kindness of not being alone. More blood-haze and faraway thoughts fill my inner eyes. Memories of dying faces, the Shingles, and those tortured Ills brush by me like phantoms. My heart feels heavy for them, and my mind can’t focus on anything, just all matters of past and present. I think of myself, and all my actions, and it’s as if two minds were within me. The one killing in the open and the other deep within me hoping and praying.
I would change.
Snow is falling. The waves roll back and forth against the sand endlessly.
The water looks so cold, so black, and so limitless.
It is beautiful.
#books #darkfantasy #fantasy #fiction #horror #novels #reading #steampunk #writing -
Beware the Ills: Part 59
I can feel the opening, a coolness spreading into my abdomen. It was in his sleeve. I have been stabbed, a dagger, rusty and covered with poison. It belonged to them, his people from long ago.
He must’ve dug it up here in the graveyard one day.
I’m on one knee. The poison’s working already. I need to leave here.
Of all places, I can’t die here.
She’s running over to me. She’s safe. She stops to look at Haukter and then back at me. She reaches for his hood, and mangled fur.
“Don’t touch him,” I manage to whisper. It’ll be hard to speak.
She looks at me with a strange mixture of surprise.
“I don’t want to know how he looks. Just leave him alone.”
More snow falling, the wind whirls quietly. She steps away from him and approaches me. I can hear the waves, I swear it.
“Please, please, help me get to the shore.”
I don’t think I’ll be able to talk anymore.
I lean on her as we walk. She’s strong and gentle against my shaky feet. I use every bit of strength to keep the blackness of the poison away. She’s walking and pulling me as fast as she can.
Soon we’re on the hills next to the shore. Our walk through the forest was a blur, a blood induced haze. I have lost my concept of time.
But I can still hear the lovely waves roaring.
She walks me to the edge of the forest where the ground slants down onto the white sand. She stops there, staring at the lapping black waves. She helps me sit down against a tree above the sand. Snow falls on us as we rest against its grey trunk. The evening sun has started to vanish above the lines of sea-clouds.
“Bring me to the water please?” I ask feebly. It’s rather embarrassing, my weakness. I’m not in a position for vanity. I will never again be in the position for it. She kneels down beside me and takes the black glove off my right hand. There’s blood on it, it’s soaked through. She holds my hand with a gentle, trembling softness. The invaders leftover ships bob on the black water like memories. She looks out at the shore and dark sea with dreaming eyes.
“No, you can’t get your way,” she says. She smiles behind her lips. I hope she can return safely.
I smile truthfully, and happily. I didn’t expect this kindness of not being alone. More blood-haze and faraway thoughts fill my inner eyes. Memories of dying faces, the Shingles, and those tortured Ills brush by me like phantoms. My heart feels heavy for them, and my mind can’t focus on anything, just all matters of past and present. I think of myself, and all my actions, and it’s as if two minds were within me. The one killing in the open and the other deep within me hoping and praying.
I would change.
Snow is falling. The waves roll back and forth against the sand endlessly.
The water looks so cold, so black, and so limitless.
It is beautiful.
#books #darkfantasy #fantasy #fiction #horror #novels #reading #steampunk #writing -
Beware the Ills: Part 59
I can feel the opening, a coolness spreading into my abdomen. It was in his sleeve. I have been stabbed, a dagger, rusty and covered with poison. It belonged to them, his people from long ago.
He must’ve dug it up here in the graveyard one day.
I’m on one knee. The poison’s working already. I need to leave here.
Of all places, I can’t die here.
She’s running over to me. She’s safe. She stops to look at Haukter and then back at me. She reaches for his hood, and mangled fur.
“Don’t touch him,” I manage to whisper. It’ll be hard to speak.
She looks at me with a strange mixture of surprise.
“I don’t want to know how he looks. Just leave him alone.”
More snow falling, the wind whirls quietly. She steps away from him and approaches me. I can hear the waves, I swear it.
“Please, please, help me get to the shore.”
I don’t think I’ll be able to talk anymore.
I lean on her as we walk. She’s strong and gentle against my shaky feet. I use every bit of strength to keep the blackness of the poison away. She’s walking and pulling me as fast as she can.
Soon we’re on the hills next to the shore. Our walk through the forest was a blur, a blood induced haze. I have lost my concept of time.
But I can still hear the lovely waves roaring.
She walks me to the edge of the forest where the ground slants down onto the white sand. She stops there, staring at the lapping black waves. She helps me sit down against a tree above the sand. Snow falls on us as we rest against its grey trunk. The evening sun has started to vanish above the lines of sea-clouds.
“Bring me to the water please?” I ask feebly. It’s rather embarrassing, my weakness. I’m not in a position for vanity. I will never again be in the position for it. She kneels down beside me and takes the black glove off my right hand. There’s blood on it, it’s soaked through. She holds my hand with a gentle, trembling softness. The invaders leftover ships bob on the black water like memories. She looks out at the shore and dark sea with dreaming eyes.
“No, you can’t get your way,” she says. She smiles behind her lips. I hope she can return safely.
I smile truthfully, and happily. I didn’t expect this kindness of not being alone. More blood-haze and faraway thoughts fill my inner eyes. Memories of dying faces, the Shingles, and those tortured Ills brush by me like phantoms. My heart feels heavy for them, and my mind can’t focus on anything, just all matters of past and present. I think of myself, and all my actions, and it’s as if two minds were within me. The one killing in the open and the other deep within me hoping and praying.
I would change.
Snow is falling. The waves roll back and forth against the sand endlessly.
The water looks so cold, so black, and so limitless.
It is beautiful.
#fantasy #horror #writing #books #novels #fiction #steampunk #reading #darkfantasy -
GOOSE CREEK HOLLER is featured in the Book Funnel promotion, NOBODY IS INNOCENT. Nothing could be truer in my Appalachian thriller, where even the good guys have to bend the rules and the law to survive. Check out all the other great titles in the promo and then CLICK ON GOOSE CREEK HOLLER to learn more! https://books.bookfunnel.com/nobody-is-innocent/ym4sbqxlru
#books #selfPromo #indieAuthor #indieAuthors #innocent #goosecreekholler #book #indie #mastodon #bookstodon #booksky #rural #ruralnoir #grittyNovels #gritlit #novels #novel #author #authors #reading #readingCommunity #fediverse #thriller #crimeFiction #mastodon #sophiajanehayden #writersCoffeeClub #writer #mysteryNovel #mystery -
GOOSE CREEK HOLLER is featured in the Book Funnel promotion, NOBODY IS INNOCENT. Nothing could be truer in my Appalachian thriller, where even the good guys have to bend the rules and the law to survive. Check out all the other great titles in the promo and then CLICK ON GOOSE CREEK HOLLER to learn more! https://books.bookfunnel.com/nobody-is-innocent/ym4sbqxlru
#books #selfPromo #indieAuthor #indieAuthors #innocent #goosecreekholler #book #indie #mastodon #bookstodon #booksky #rural #ruralnoir #grittyNovels #gritlit #novels #novel #author #authors #reading #readingCommunity #fediverse #thriller #crimeFiction #mastodon #sophiajanehayden #writersCoffeeClub #writer #mysteryNovel #mystery -
GOOSE CREEK HOLLER is featured in the Book Funnel promotion, NOBODY IS INNOCENT. Nothing could be truer in my Appalachian thriller, where even the good guys have to bend the rules and the law to survive. Check out all the other great titles in the promo and then CLICK ON GOOSE CREEK HOLLER to learn more! https://books.bookfunnel.com/nobody-is-innocent/ym4sbqxlru
#books #selfPromo #indieAuthor #indieAuthors #innocent #goosecreekholler #book #indie #mastodon #bookstodon #booksky #rural #ruralnoir #grittyNovels #gritlit #novels #novel #author #authors #reading #readingCommunity #fediverse #thriller #crimeFiction #mastodon #sophiajanehayden #writersCoffeeClub #writer #mysteryNovel #mystery -
GOOSE CREEK HOLLER is featured in the Book Funnel promotion, NOBODY IS INNOCENT. Nothing could be truer in my Appalachian thriller, where even the good guys have to bend the rules and the law to survive. Check out all the other great titles in the promo and then CLICK ON GOOSE CREEK HOLLER to learn more! https://books.bookfunnel.com/nobody-is-innocent/ym4sbqxlru
#books #selfPromo #indieAuthor #indieAuthors #innocent #goosecreekholler #book #indie #mastodon #bookstodon #booksky #rural #ruralnoir #grittyNovels #gritlit #novels #novel #author #authors #reading #readingCommunity #fediverse #thriller #crimeFiction #mastodon #sophiajanehayden #writersCoffeeClub #writer #mysteryNovel #mystery -
GOOSE CREEK HOLLER is featured in the Book Funnel promotion, NOBODY IS INNOCENT. Nothing could be truer in my Appalachian thriller, where even the good guys have to bend the rules and the law to survive. Check out all the other great titles in the promo and then CLICK ON GOOSE CREEK HOLLER to learn more! https://books.bookfunnel.com/nobody-is-innocent/ym4sbqxlru
#books #selfPromo #indieAuthor #indieAuthors #innocent #goosecreekholler #book #indie #mastodon #bookstodon #booksky #rural #ruralnoir #grittyNovels #gritlit #novels #novel #author #authors #reading #readingCommunity #fediverse #thriller #crimeFiction #mastodon #sophiajanehayden #writersCoffeeClub #writer #mysteryNovel #mystery -
kathy acker: get rid of meaning
https://p-u-n-c-h.ro/koenigbooks/kathy-acker-get-rid-of-meaning/
American author Kathy Acker was one of the most influential writers of the 20th century. Working through an experimental and avant-garde tradition, she wrote numerous novels, essays, poems, and novellas from the early 1970s to the late 1990s. As a postmodernist, plagiarist, and post-punk feminist, she continues to inspire generations of writers, philosophers, and artists. The book GET RID OF MEANING, edited by Anja Casser and Matias Viegener, is the first comprehensive publication on Acker’s work from an artistic and literary perspective. It includes previously unpublished material from Acker’s personal archive and other collections. The publication is the compilation of a multipart research project including an exhibition and a symposium at Badischer Kunstverein in Karlsruhe.https://p-u-n-c-h.ro/koenigbooks/kathy-acker-get-rid-of-meaning/
#AnjaCasser #BadischerKunstverein #essays #experimentalWriting #feminism #feminist #KathyAcker #MatiasViegener #novels #plagiarist #poems #postPunk #postmodernist -
kathy acker: get rid of meaning
https://p-u-n-c-h.ro/koenigbooks/kathy-acker-get-rid-of-meaning/
American author Kathy Acker was one of the most influential writers of the 20th century. Working through an experimental and avant-garde tradition, she wrote numerous novels, essays, poems, and novellas from the early 1970s to the late 1990s. As a postmodernist, plagiarist, and post-punk feminist, she continues to inspire generations of writers, philosophers, and artists. The book GET RID OF MEANING, edited by Anja Casser and Matias Viegener, is the first comprehensive publication on Acker’s work from an artistic and literary perspective. It includes previously unpublished material from Acker’s personal archive and other collections. The publication is the compilation of a multipart research project including an exhibition and a symposium at Badischer Kunstverein in Karlsruhe.https://p-u-n-c-h.ro/koenigbooks/kathy-acker-get-rid-of-meaning/
#AnjaCasser #BadischerKunstverein #essays #experimentalWriting #feminism #feminist #KathyAcker #MatiasViegener #novels #plagiarist #poems #postPunk #postmodernist -
kathy acker: get rid of meaning
https://p-u-n-c-h.ro/koenigbooks/kathy-acker-get-rid-of-meaning/
American author Kathy Acker was one of the most influential writers of the 20th century. Working through an experimental and avant-garde tradition, she wrote numerous novels, essays, poems, and novellas from the early 1970s to the late 1990s. As a postmodernist, plagiarist, and post-punk feminist, she continues to inspire generations of writers, philosophers, and artists. The book GET RID OF MEANING, edited by Anja Casser and Matias Viegener, is the first comprehensive publication on Acker’s work from an artistic and literary perspective. It includes previously unpublished material from Acker’s personal archive and other collections. The publication is the compilation of a multipart research project including an exhibition and a symposium at Badischer Kunstverein in Karlsruhe.https://p-u-n-c-h.ro/koenigbooks/kathy-acker-get-rid-of-meaning/
#AnjaCasser #BadischerKunstverein #essays #experimentalWriting #feminism #feminist #KathyAcker #MatiasViegener #novels #plagiarist #poems #postPunk #postmodernist -
kathy acker: get rid of meaning
https://p-u-n-c-h.ro/koenigbooks/kathy-acker-get-rid-of-meaning/
American author Kathy Acker was one of the most influential writers of the 20th century. Working through an experimental and avant-garde tradition, she wrote numerous novels, essays, poems, and novellas from the early 1970s to the late 1990s. As a postmodernist, plagiarist, and post-punk feminist, she continues to inspire generations of writers, philosophers, and artists. The book GET RID OF MEANING, edited by Anja Casser and Matias Viegener, is the first comprehensive publication on Acker’s work from an artistic and literary perspective. It includes previously unpublished material from Acker’s personal archive and other collections. The publication is the compilation of a multipart research project including an exhibition and a symposium at Badischer Kunstverein in Karlsruhe.https://p-u-n-c-h.ro/koenigbooks/kathy-acker-get-rid-of-meaning/
#AnjaCasser #BadischerKunstverein #essays #experimentalWriting #feminism #feminist #KathyAcker #MatiasViegener #novels #plagiarist #poems #postPunk #postmodernist -
kathy acker: get rid of meaning
https://p-u-n-c-h.ro/koenigbooks/kathy-acker-get-rid-of-meaning/
American author Kathy Acker was one of the most influential writers of the 20th century. Working through an experimental and avant-garde tradition, she wrote numerous novels, essays, poems, and novellas from the early 1970s to the late 1990s. As a postmodernist, plagiarist, and post-punk feminist, she continues to inspire generations of writers, philosophers, and artists. The book GET RID OF MEANING, edited by Anja Casser and Matias Viegener, is the first comprehensive publication on Acker’s work from an artistic and literary perspective. It includes previously unpublished material from Acker’s personal archive and other collections. The publication is the compilation of a multipart research project including an exhibition and a symposium at Badischer Kunstverein in Karlsruhe.https://p-u-n-c-h.ro/koenigbooks/kathy-acker-get-rid-of-meaning/
#AnjaCasser #BadischerKunstverein #essays #experimentalWriting #feminism #feminist #KathyAcker #MatiasViegener #novels #plagiarist #poems #postPunk #postmodernist -
Some of Violet Jacob’s works are available to download as free ebooks via @gutenberg_org
4 novels: Flemington, The Sheep-Stealers, Irresolute Catherine, & The Interloper;
2 poetry collections: Bonnie Joann, and Other Poems, & Songs of Angus and More Songs of Angus;
The Golden Heart, & Other Fairy Stories8/8
https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/7709
#Scottish #literature #Scots #Scotslanguage #19thCentury #20thcentury #WomenWriters #VioletJacob #novels #poetry #shortstories #shortfiction #fairytales
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What am I reading?
¾ through Ancient Roman by Simon Baker and enjoying it thoroughly. Perhaps it's my own ignorance of the rise and fall of the Roman Empire, but I have been surprised at how similar current power dynamics match those of Rome in the first century AD and before. I've got Prince Orange 🍊 down as Nero and his sycophants as the aristocratic elites in the Roman Senate: clueless & self serving!
I recommend the Heythwaite Trilogy, a Yorkshire saga by Annie Eileen Rogers, as some easy reading if you have just put down a heavy read, like Ancient Rome!
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I made another poster. GOOSE CREEK HOLLER. MONEY. MOUNTAINS. MURDER. Legal thrills in the heart of Appalachia. #mastodon #mastoArt #books #bookstodon #booksky #bookReview #book #poster #postADay #post #ad #advertising #ads #writing #author #august #authorLife #authors #writingCommunity #writers #writer #productivity #pro #promotion #socialmedia #fediverse #worldBuilding #words #graphics #pictures #picture #novels #novel #fun #exhibition #selfPromo #indieAuthor #indieAuthors #indie #DailyCreate #creative #creativity #readingCommunity #reading #read #ebooks #ebook #paperbackCoverArt #paper #publishing #published #ProductLaunch #creek #rural #Appalachia #legal #attorney #law #lawsuit #lawyer #crimeFiction #suspense #thriller #mystery #hills #hidden #murder #mountains #money
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Writers and readers of Mastodon! What are your favorite 'guilty pleasure' fantasy, horror, or sci-fi tropes?
A big one for me is magic systems that require a flowchart to understand 😅
#writing #reading #books #fantasy #scifi #horror #novels #tropes #guiltypleasure #fantasybooks #scifibooks #horrorbooks
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A Rob Deer Mystery, With Justin Halpern
https://web.brid.gy/r/https://defector.com/a-rob-deer-mystery-with-justin-halpern
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Éric Rohmer’s Novel “Élisabeth” Is a Precocious Literary Triumph
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Harness The Force With This SciFi and Star Wars Themed Book Bundle!
We got another good one! This is my own bundle I helped organize with other Scifi authors, all of it themed around science fiction or Star Wars.,and costs $10.
Check it out here! https://itch.io/b/3668/may-the-fourth-scif-bundle
Including today, there is one day left to grab this bundle!
The bundle graphic is by the wonderful Elise Carlson, whose book is also in this bundle! and I drew the Jedi character!
The books I included is the full version of War of the Space Dragons, and Dragons of Atlanta, two books I am VERY proud of. They are also a starting point for getting into Empire of Dragons.
Please consider supporting us indies~ 👏 we thank you for your support :3
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#books #Bundles #Dragons #ebooks #Fantasy #Fiction #literature #novels #reading #sciFi #ScienceFiction #Writing -
Embrace the Vampire Within You Through This Book Bundle!
For Dracula’s Anniversary, a lot of wonderful vampire authors arranged a $25 bundle of books for you to bite into!
Check it out here: https://itch.io/b/3663/draculas-anniversary-bundle
Including today, there are two days left to get this bundle!
Included within the bundle is THORN, my military vampire story where a team of draconic vampires go on their last mission together. It’s an older story, but it’s one that I remember being proud of.
I didn’t get a chance to post about this much earlier like I planned due to this month being super busy. I’ve been waking up too early as well. This blog has been on life support.
I do encourage you, people subscribed and within the Fediverse, to nab this bundle! Help prop up indie creators :3
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#books #Bundles #Dragons #ebooks #Fantasy #Fiction #literature #novels #reading #romance #Romantasy #urbanFantasy #vampires #Writing -
A SPECTACULARLY ORIGINAL EPIC fantasy braids European, Caribbean, and African legends into a sweeping tale of old gods, a war between land and sea, and intricate twists and turns of betrayals, loyalty, and love. Mesmerizing and vividly imagined. SOLID A
https://bookshop.org/p/books/year-of-the-mer-l-d-lewis/758d61ee0d63f42c?ean=9781668060957&next=t
#book #Books #bookreview #bookreviews #bookstodon #fiction #novel #novels #fantasy #epicfantasy #Blackwriters
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Who wouldn't like to immerse themselves in a little humor if forced to fly these days? Wanna bet that everyone in that row is reading BEER POUR? #beerpour #flying #beer #humor #books #bookstodon #booksky #airtravel #plane #airport #airports #flights #flying #humorous #funny #fun #jet #reading #mastodon #readingcommunity #novels #novels #satire #romanticSuspense #romantic #writersCoffeeClub #writersofMastodon #scribesAndMakers #author #indieAuthor #authorLife #authors
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Thursday, March 26, 2026
Worst oil supply disruption in modern Russian history halts about 40% of export capacity, Reuters reports -- 'Land for security' in Ukraine negotiations must be rejected -- Ukrainian drones attack major oil and gas facilities in Russia's Leningrad Oblast for second night in row ... and morehttps://activitypub.writeworks.uk/2026/03/thursday-march-26-2026/
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Size 12 And Ready To Rock
https://autisticgoblin.ca/2026/03/24/size-12-and-ready-to-rock/
