Necromancy’s Birthplace (Snippet Sunday 4.19.2020)

April 19, 2020April 19, 2020 / Daelyn Morgana / 2 Comments

Welcome to Snippet Sunday on Darkling Dreams!

Where writers come together to share a few sentences (8-10) of their current project — whether it’s a recently released novel, a WIP (work in progress), or an older manuscript that’s being revived. Intended to hook readers, gather feedback, and build an author’s fan base, Snippet Sunday is the Facebook group that does all three.

snippet sunday

Hello! Hello! It’s been a LONG time since I have joined in the Snippet Sunday blog hop. My last share was back in April of 2019. Sadly, this will likely be my only share again for some time. Really being able to write in which I have something worthy of sharing on a weekly basis still isn’t going so well for me. For today, though, I am here and we will focus on that.

This week’s excerpt is from something brand spanking new from me! It was that time of the year again when Queer Sci Fi held its annual flash fiction contest. I got pestered to submit again so here I am! This year’s theme for QSF was “innovation” and I came up with another fantasy tale this time. Unlike last year and the one before where I shared from my submission piece in two parts, this year I will only be sharing one part as that’s all I can manage on this piece of flash fiction. So this will be the one and only snippet of this work, considering the whole piece is only 300 words long, too.

So without further ado, here’s the only nine lines you’ll see for now of Necromancy’s Birthplace…

~*~*~*~

Rap! Rap! Rap!

“I’m coming.” The voice that came from within the cottage spoke of age and soon the door opened.

“You are…Voldarin?”

“I am.”

“Good.” Alaric gave a single nod and shuffled past the old wizard, stick tapping back and forth along the floor before him. With MindSight he was able to make out the furniture in blurred tones of grey and heat pockets, and found himself a seat.

“So,” Voldarin’s thermal figure came closer, “I understand you are looking to mend your sight.”

~*~*~*~

And there you have it. The only sneak peak into my submission for this year’s QSF contest. The deadline was April 17th and I just made it under the wire this year. Now all I can do is wait, and hope the third time was the charm for making it into the anthology.

Image belongs to QSF at queerscifi.com

Due to the fact this is a flash fiction submission, I do not have a cover or blurb understandably, neither is it going to be posted to Wattpad in the near future. So there will be no “if you wish to read more…”

However! If you wish to read anything else that I have out for free, you can click the tabs above to browse through my available works and then follow the links to my Wattpad account. I love to hear any and all feedback on my work as well. Comments are greatly appreciated, as are the reads. You can also find me on my Facebook author page and now my Twitter page to keep up to date with all that’s going on in my writing.

And if you’re looking for some other great snippets of fellow authors,
hop on over to Facebook and check out Snippet Sunday!

Racing a Deadline: QSF’s Annual Flash Fiction Contest

April 16, 2020April 17, 2020 / Daelyn Morgana / Leave a comment

For the last two years I have entered Queer Sci Fi’s annual flash fiction contest without any success in making it into the anthology. I am still determined, however, to give it another go. Third times the charm, as they say, even if each year QSF is getting an influx in entries which lessens the odds of making it in the published book. This year’s contest is coming up on its deadline — which was even extended an extra week due to the troubles of this current time. When I say the deadline is coming up, too, I really mean that the deadline is tomorrow (April 17th). Eek!

I am nothing but predictable when it comes to deadlines. As per normal for me I have procrastinated until the end and now I have about twenty-four hours to churn out a cohesive 300 word flash fiction piece centering around the theme of “innovation” that features some queer content.

Nevertheless! I am pushing forward to get something ready to submit by midnight tomorrow. At the very least I have had a few ideas in the works for weeks now. There are half started story lines of dialogue in my phone notes and half asleep scribbled notes of potential plot next to them. As well as a work conversation from weeks ago that turned into a scarily appropriate topic and potential plot for the current world pandemic. So I have about three ideas I will toss around to see what works and what comes out best to use in submitting.

Of course, waiting till the last minute pretty much means I won’t be getting any critiquing on my work before I submit my flash piece. Many of you writers probably just cringed and cried at that statement. The last two years I have looked for feedback before submitting, which is normally a must for any writer before hitting that send button. I half wonder if not having time for it this year is a good thing for me. I do enough of weekly flash fiction challenges that never see fresh eyes before I hit submit on a blog comment, so perhaps I just need to trust my own gut this year. However, I do realize the disadvantage I am at when I don’t normally write queer stories. Like I said though: this year I am trusting my gut. Potentially daring and risky but I’m going for it. What do I really have to lose? There’s no admission fee, no risk to the rights of my story if I’m not chosen for the anthology. The only thing I risk is another blow to the heart if I get a rejection email weeks from now.

All in all, if you’re looking for a last minute thing to do like me, and you feel inspired by the theme of this year, you’ve still got a little bit of time to try to submit. All details to the contest can be found by clicking the hyperlink in the first paragraph above.

Now I must go off and try to wrestle out a 300 word story. Perhaps I will actually have a Snippet Sunday post for a week or two if I manage to get a story submitted in time! Imagine that. I’ve done that the last two years also so it’s been a year since I shared any snippets of anything. We shall see. This coming Sunday will tell.

Winner, Winner! #LoveBites2020

March 16, 2020March 16, 2020 / Daelyn Morgana / Leave a comment

Life has been hard the last couple weeks. The world has gone crazy over the COVID-19 virus and stress is high. Amongst it though there are still moments of brightness, calm, and smiles. Like last week — which I definitely meant to blog about last week — when the winners of the #LoveBites2020 flash fiction blog hop challenge were released.

I woke up last Tuesday, during a glorious three day weekend for the first time in months, to an announcement that put a smile on my face for the rest of the day. I’m very much a dark writer, and Valentine’s Day is very much a light and happy holiday. So when I turned my chosen prompt of the Love Bites challenge into something darker that kills the mood I had no expectations of winning anything.

As it turned out, the judges loved my twist on the prompt and I took second place with a prize of a $5 Amazon gift card! If you want to reread my entry tale “Masks and Kisses” you can find it in my last blog post. Here’s what the judges said about my second place win, courtesy of Katheryn J. Avila’s (the host of Love Bites) blog…

Cara says: This is another entry that took the prompt and gave it a twist, though a much darker one. The public face created to endure abuse is the heartbreaking core of this “fake relationship,” and you root for the MC to find her way free. She does… bringing me to my only disappointment in this story. Though vague understanding that something has happened is there, the ending just doesn’t quite pack the punch of the rest of the story. Guess that just means you have to write more!

Siobhan says: This story was well crafted and gave all the warnings from the beginning, but how often do we ignore them in order to fit in and make others happy? A chilling tale with a rather final solution at the end that left me satisfied if not happy. Great story.

Ever says: You took the Fake Relationship trope and ran into a dark alley with it. I was blown away by how much you packed into the snapshots of time you showed us. And I genuinely cheered when what I thought was Amanda’s last moments turned out to be her Fight For Freedom! W00t w00t!

Miranda says: I loved Daelyn’s maybe due to it being closer to home for me (I witnessed that stuff as a child). I liked how she worked up to the ending, slow and steady making you read faster and faster. Great execution and never saying too much, just enough for you to know and pique your interest until the end.

Katheryn says: A great take on the prompt. The story was tense and kept me on edge until the very end. You can really feel for the narrator – her pain, her stress, and her dread. For such a brief piece, its intensity lingers long after you’ve finished reading it.

It feels a bit like a small win being as there were only five eligible tales in the running, but it is still a confidence boost for my writing. It tells me that despite my prolonged hiatus for more than a year now I haven’t completely destroyed my writing muscles. I consider that something to smile about, and something to help rekindle that fire before the Camp NaNoWriMo madness of April comes screaming around the corner.

If you want to check out who took first place you can see the winning tale and the judges’ feedback here. Quite the sweet, innocent tale took first place. A welcome change from the true love and lust of Valentine’s Day.

Many thanks to Katheryn for hosting the blog hop challenge, as well as to Cara Michaels, Siobhan Muir, Miranda Kate, and Ever Addams for their judgery! I can’t wait for the next seasonal challenge. Until then I’m going to go use that five dollars to buy myself a book and start focusing on the current contest before me.

Masks and Kisses #LoveBites2020

February 21, 2020February 21, 2020 / Daelyn Morgana / 11 Comments

Sometimes love just bites… A group of author friends I know has a system of flash challenges associated with seasons of the year. I missed out on Monster Mash, hosted by Siobhan Muir, in October and Tipsy Santa, hosted by Ever Addams, in December of last year. This New Year I managed to make it out to the New Year Revolution hosted by Cara Michaels. Now I’ve somehow also managed to make it out to the Love Bites flash fiction blog hop of the series, hosted by Katheryn J. Avila, with a chance at one of two prizes! The challenge ran from the 10th of February until tonight. I’m coming in just under the wire here again to submit my piece of flash.

So without further ado, here is my addition to the Love Bites blog hop using the prompt “the fake relationship”! Be sure to share and/or comment across Twitter, Facebook, and elsewhere using the #LoveBites2020 hashtag. Don’t forget to check out the other tales under the tag, too!

Masks and Kisses

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”

I turned around in my desk chair, the office hum droning around me, to find Eric poised with that signature charming grin and dashing twinkle in his eyes. From behind his back he presented a dozen red roses and an enormous box of chocolates that would give anyone diabetes if eaten all in one sitting.

“Eric… I thought we agreed to wait until we both got off work and were home,” I said quietly, flashing an apologetic ‘oopsie’ kind of smile at the nearest coworker that looked our way. They just scowled and looked back to their computer screen.

“I know we did, but I wanted to surprise you. Can’t I surprise my beautiful babe?” The innocence in his voice always made my heart melt. Eric leaned over to kiss my cheek, setting the flowers and chocolates on the corner of my desk.

A smile genuinely tugged at my lips. Heat slowly flooded my cheeks, turning them about as rosy as the roses I guessed. “Yes. You can. Just not here.” I gave him a playful shove and he chuckled. “Now go home. I’ll see you tonight, and thank you. It’s very sweet of you.”

Eric gave me a wink and one last kiss before turning and striding off through the cubicles so I could return to my work.

“You’re so lucky,” Nancy, my nearest coworker breathed as she leaned toward me. “I bet he’s the perfect guy.”

~*~*~*~

“Amanda Christine, will you marry me?”

I turned around in my chair from the shocked gasp of my mother and the jaw-drop of my father to find Eric down on one knee, presenting a stunningly gorgeous, and quite pricey based on its size, rock. Shock rattled my frame. Followed by confusion and then settling dread. My mother’s eyes burned into the back of my head, eagerly awaiting my answer.

I knew what she expected me to say.

I knew what Eric expected me to say.

And I knew what I really wanted to say.

“Well?” Eric pressed. The twinkle in his eyes not so dashing and innocent anymore. “Will you do the honor of making me the happiest man alive and marry me?”

I tugged at the sleeve of my sweater, rubbed a thumb over the bruises. Casting a fidgety glance aside I whispered, “Yes.” The shakiness to my voice went unheard, drowned out by my mother’s enthusiastic cheering that garnered attention from the whole restaurant.

What else could I really have said? No? We were the perfect couple.

~*~*~*~

The wadded ball of toilet paper in my hand did little to stem the blood flow. Pristine, crimson drops splashed at the porcelain white sink of our bathroom- No. His bathroom. I would have to make sure all those spots of blood left no trace to mar his perfect household.

Glancing in the mirror I caught sight of my state for the first time since I locked myself in against Eric’s pounding fists. My eye was swollen and turning a sickly blue-purple already. Fresh blood flowed down my cheek, mixing with tears that left a bitter, salty taste in my mouth each time I sobbed. The toilet paper in my hand soaked up the blood with the pace of a plague.

What felt like hours could have simply been minutes. The crashing outside the bathroom door had quit finally. Eric no longer yelled and body-slammed the door, which I had jammed shut by a broken towel rack. His voice still resounded in my head though, pounding just like the budding headache. My eyes kept hitting replay every time I blinked.

“Why do you have to make me so angry?! I asked you to do one simple thing! One!”

“I’m sorry. I just ran out of time. I’ve been up since five for work and-”

“Excuses! All of them! You couldn’t even do something as small as clean up the kitchen from dinner before I came home. You worthless bitch!”

Another crash startled me back, followed by a lazy thud at the door. “Amanda… Come on, baby. I’m sorry. Come out of there, dollface.”

I could only stare at my broken reflection.

~*~*~*~

The stillness of the night struck me first. So quiet my ears rang. I could have heard the blood hit to the ground. The high shrill in the distance broke the peace. Hues of red and blue came to dance across my front window in numbers.

For the first time in years, I smiled.

Forgiveness is Not Goodbye #NYR2020

January 24, 2020 / Daelyn Morgana / 8 Comments

New Year, new flash! A group of author friends I know has a system of flash challenges associated with seasons of the year. I missed out on Monster Mash, hosted by Siobhan Muir, in October and Tipsy Santa, hosted by Ever Addams, in December. This New Year Cara Michaels is hosting the New Year Revolution flash fiction blog hop, with a chance at one of two prizes! The challenge ran from the 13th of January until tonight. I’m coming in just under the wire here to submit my piece of flash.

So without further ado, here is my addition to the New Year Revolution blog hop! Be sure to share and/or comment across Twitter, Facebook, and elsewhere using the #NYR2020 hashtag. Don’t forget to check out the other tales under the tag, too!

Forgiveness is Not Goodbye

It started with accidents.

Accidents that we mostly thought nothing of at the start.

‘It doesn’t happen if I’m up before 8am,’ my mother said.

At what point though are accidents not true accidents?

Devolving came quickly after that. First the lethargic nature. Then the sickness and pain.

‘He’s getting old,’ we said. ‘It’s probably just his age showing,’ we said.

How could we have been so right, and so wrong at the same time?

~*~*~

The car ride to the emergency vet’s seemed like one of the longest rides I have ever taken. We got the call this morning. The needed surgery that may, or may not, have given him a few more years of his life was getting riskier. Complications could run rampart. Odds of full recovery were getting slimmer. He’s getting worse. He’s suffering.

‘Do you still wish to go through with the surgery?’

This car ride is our answer.

I’ve never liked hospitals. They make me uneasy, they make me tense. The stench of chemicals and unnatural life. The essence of death and birth that hangs in the air in constant war with each other. The silence that is only interrupted by the sounds of Death’s scythe tapping across pristine tiles in a rhythmic approach to rooms.

Veterinary hospitals are almost no different.

Stepping into the white-tiled reception hall and waiting room made my heart clench and climb into my throat. It was taking all my will to not dissolve into a sniveling mess, and now was no different. An adorable black Labrador, Shepherd cross puppy before me both managed to distract me from my pain and also make it hurt more.

I remember when Snowball used to be that small and that cute. Well, he’s still that small, but he’s only that cute now when he’s freshly groomed.

Guess we won’t be making those appointments anymore. . .

Time seems to stand still as we wait to be seen. I can’t keep my eyes from roaming over the animals and people there, reading their faces, feeling their own emotions mingling with mine. My mother’s voice is meek when she talks to the receptionist. I hardly remember myself speaking up, explaining why we came, pet-less as we were. Somehow I know I kept my voice level, kept my composure unlike my mother’s unraveling state. The sympathy in her eyes hurts as much as what I know I will have to endure soon.

From there the wait is eternally short. The exam room we are led into is bare in comparison to what I expected. The paperwork is damning when the receptionist comes back in. I again find myself speaking for my mother. Small talk, mostly observational and immaterial, is all that keeps me centered when she leaves until that door opens again.

The nurse brings in a small bundle, swaddled in blankets. Only a white, scraggly head pokes out from the soft indigo. I can hear the heavy, ragged draw of breaths as Snowball’s set down. Small legs stumble when he takes the start of his last steps. Disoriented. Weak.

Terrified.

Warm brown eyes have lost their wild lust for life when they see me. Pain clouds them. A Soul tired look. It’s as if he’s looking right through me, already gone.

Does he even recognize me?

I can’t allow myself to think those things right now.

So I sit myself on the floor, numb to the fact my stillness causes my legs to eventually go to sleep, and leave my hand outstretched. Waiting, again. My poor baby boy will hardly come near me. How can I blame him? We left him alone in this big, scary place overnight. We are his whole world, and to him we abandoned him.

Trust must be rebuilt.

I know not how much time passes before Snowball allows me to be close, to comfort him, to murmur sweet nothings. To love him one last time with tears in my eyes.

“Are we doing the right thing?” I ask in a shaky voice when the time comes.

The vet pauses just long enough to look up, but my eyes are on the cloudy white liquid seeping through my dog’s IV, and the syringe of pink now hooked up to it. Out of my peripheral I see her nod. “You are.”

I am the last thing he sees.

Deep down I know with complete confidence she is right, but how do I give my broken heart that absolution?

In loving memory. . .

Image may contain: text

When Tragedy Strikes

June 13, 2019 / Daelyn Morgana / 2 Comments

Hi, everyone. I know, I dropped off on a long hiatus again. I didn’t keep up with writing as I had wanted to. I have, however, started to keep up with weekly flash fiction challenges. (Namely #ThursThreads hosted by the lovely Siobhan Muir and #MenageMonday hosted by the amazing Cara Michaels.) I need to get myself back into Wednesday Words from the awesome P.T. Wyant, too.

Today is not about a recap of what’s going on with this sporadic blogger author though. It is not about my own announcements or my own experiences. Today’s post is a memorial to a beautiful young soul who’s life was tragically cut short late Tuesday night.

Yesterday I wrote a tribute to her life and memory on Facebook.

We all live to believe this world is big and what happens to it and others are not our own problems and won’t affect us. But we are wrong. This world is small and fragile and more often than not right on our front steps.

I learned that today. This afternoon I got a group text. A text that brought shock, grief, anger, and pain.

Last night there was a shooting in the Hill District at a graduation/birthday party full of teenagers and young adults. A potentially senseless shooti…ng that destroyed what should have been one of the best days of a young girl’s life. That young girl was my employee and now her life is gone. She had literally just turned seventeen. Just graduated high school. Full of potential. Hard-working. Willing to learn. Upbeat. Happy. A beautiful soul. She was planning for college. She was going to be a nurse. She had her whole life ahead of her, and now it is all gone. And because of what? For what?

This world is not as big as we think it is. The problems of this world are always closer than they appear to be. Today I learned that as I still sit here in shock. She may have only worked with my company for a short period, but it was enough to make a connection. A simple passing “hello” is enough to make a connection. It is enough to leave an ache in my chest, to make the weight of this messed up world press down on my shoulders. This life and world we live in is precious and it only takes one second, one pop of a gun to take it all away. Senseless. Greedy. Worthless violence. And it needs to end before another beautiful soul is taken from this earth for useless reasons. #RIPbeautifulsoul #stoptheviolence #whereisourgunreform #whereisthejustice

Today I turned the #ThursThreads prompt into a lesson to honor her in my flash piece.

~*~*~*~*~

The erratic beep, beep of the checkout scanners around me reminded me of the beep, beep of a heart monitor. I watched the cashier scan each of my items. A bag of Doritos. Carrots. Gallon of milk. Tissues.

My expression fell, following that item all the way to the end of the belt. Hazel eyes drifted up to the young woman. She was African American. Her name tag read “Faith” in bold, black letters. Tight braided hair that fell past her chest. Warm brown eyes. She couldn’tve been more than seventeen. She looked bored.

“First job?” I asked softly, randomly.

Faith gave me a weird glance. I knew that look in retail. “Um, yeah… Why?”

“Just curious.” The beep, beep of the scanners overtook the awkward silence. I sucked in a breath. “Cherish this job, hun. I know it feels demeaning and customers can be royal asshats. But cherish it while you have it. This world is cruel. It only takes one second, one pop of a gun for tragedy to strike and life to be stripped away.”

She gave me a haughty look, understandably. “Why are you telling me this? Because I’m black?”

I couldn’t blame her. I was white. To her I was privileged. I held my calm, looked into her eyes with grief in mine. “No,” I whispered. “Because violence is everywhere. It doesn’t discriminate and even when we think the world’s problems won’t affect us they have a funny way of showing up on our doorstep.”

~*~*~*~*~

When tragedy strikes I am only able to write and feel what is tumbling through me. I am only able to light candles and honor the one who passed through the veil however I can. So write for her memory I will, and light candles to guide her soul I will. For I will not just do nothing.

May you find peace wherever you are now, Alexus. Fly high, beautiful soul.

The Enemy Trade — Part 2 (Snippet Sunday 3.31.19)

March 31, 2019 / Daelyn Morgana / 10 Comments

Welcome to Snippet Sunday on Darkling Dreams!

Last day of March? Already? Oh no. That means the first Camp NaNoWriMo of the year starts in less than twenty-four hours! So not ready! I hope to stick around through at least the end of April here, then we’ll have to play things as they go. In the meantime, ready for some more sneak peaks from me?

This week’s excerpt is from something brand spanking new from me! It’s that time of the year again when Queer Sci Fi holds its annual flash fiction contest. I got pestered to submit again so here I am! This year’s theme for QSF is “migration” and I came up with a fantasy tale this time. Like last year when I shared from my submission piece I’m only giving two short previews, so this will be the last snippet of this work considering the whole piece is just under 300 words.

We left off last week with Danny speaking: “The ‘rogue assassin’ bit should really have tipped you off from the start who you were getting into bed with.” So without further ado, here’s the next ~~eight~~ nine lines of The Enemy Trade…

~*~*~*~

“Danika-!”

He shot a glare upwards, silencing the princess with a steel-tipped amber gaze. “Danny. I don’t go by that name anymore. I might bed you though, if you weren’t such a fragile human.” Heat rushed into Selene’s cheeks. Danny smirked then sobered seriously. “Listen, princess, I’m gonna level with you. I didn’t travel across this godforsaken realm to your kingdom just to be told I can’t do what I do best: eliminate problems by killing.”

~*~*~*~

I mean, what else did the princess expect from a ‘rogue assassin’? Also, if you’re interested in submitting to QSF for this contest you still have time! The deadline is April 10th this year. How hard can it be to write a 300 word complete story, right? Wrong.

Image belongs to QSF at queerscifi.com

And if you’re looking for some other great snippets of fellow authors,
hop on over to Facebook and check out Snippet Sunday!

The Enemy Trade — Part 1 (Snippet Sunday 3.24.19)

March 24, 2019 / Daelyn Morgana / 4 Comments

Welcome to Snippet Sunday on Darkling Dreams!

Hello! Hey! Hi! *Waves enthusiastically* Wow it’s been a long time since I’ve done one of these. Almost a year ago to be exact. Time just hasn’t been my friend but I’m hoping to stick around at least through the end of April here, then we’ll have to play things as they go. In the meantime, ready for some sneak peaks from me again?

This week’s excerpt is from something brand spanking new from me! It’s that time of the year again when Queer Sci Fi holds its annual flash fiction contest. I got pestered to submit again so here I am! This year’s theme for QSF is “migration” and I came up with a fantasy tale this time. Like last year when I shared from my submission piece I’ll only be posting two small parts of it considering the whole piece is just under 300 words.

So without further ado, here’s the first eight lines of The Enemy Trade…

~*~*~*~

“You killed Aramath?!”

Danny rolled his eyes, pushing runaway red strands of a half-shaved pixie cut aside. “Don’t act so shocked. I wouldn’t sick me on my worst enemy, and you knew my reputation when we made this pact.”

“I signed up for trading enemies! Not killing them! Dragonshifter leverages the dragonshifter, and royalty influences royalty so you can keep going rogue assassin.”

“The ‘rogue assassin’ bit should really have tipped you off from the start who you were getting into bed with.”

~*~*~*~

Oh the snark. Gotta love it. Also, if you’re interested in submitting to QSF for this contest you still have time! The deadline is April 10th this year. How hard can it be to write a 300 word complete story, right? Wrong.

Image belongs to QSF at queerscifi.com

And if you’re looking for some other great snippets of fellow authors,
hop on over to Facebook and check out Snippet Sunday!

Obsession — Part 2 (Snippet Sunday 3.25.18)

March 25, 2018April 1, 2018 / Daelyn Morgana / 12 Comments

Welcome to Snippet Sunday on Darkling Dreams!

Where writers come together to share a few sentences (8-10) of their current project — whether it’s a recently released novel, a WIP (work in progress), or an older manuscript that’s being revived. Intended to hook readers, gather feedback and build an author’s fan base, Snippet Sunday is the FB group that does all three.

Last week of March? Already? My where has the time gone! I’m going to blink this week and its going to be over before I can even comprehend what day it is. Anywho, welcome back for another snippet from yours truly. I may not always be consistent in sharing depending what I have going on, or what project I’m in the thick of, but I am back with the Snippet crew for the most part. Ready for some more sneak peeks?

This week’s excerpt is from something brand spanking new from me! In light of getting myself back in the game that is writing, I decided to write a submission for the QSF annual flash fiction contest. This year’s theme is “impact” and I came up with a quick soft horror tale, titled Obsession. (Which I submitted middle of last week! Wish me luck.) Obviously I cannot share from this tale for long since it’s only 300 words and I don’t want to spoil all of it, so this will be the last snippet of it before I move on to something else in April.

Picking up right where I left off in last week’s snippet, here’s the next ten lines to Obsession…

~*~*~*~

“Freak! Get off me!”

The sharp, panicked voice shattered my altered reality. I recoiled; the sound of roaring fire filling my head. Sirens raced down the street outside, followed by echoing cries for help.

Myra! Myra!…

Flames engulfed my vision. An apartment building in full blaze from faulty wires, and a woman with auburn locks and terrified hazel eyes leaning out a broken window, screaming.

Leslie.

~*~*~*~

The happiness certainly did not last long, and methinks it’s about to sour even further. How’s that for a perpetual cliffhanger? LOL. Also, if you’re interested in submitting to QSF for this contest you still have time! The deadline is March 31st. How hard can it be to write 300 words, right? Wrong.

26824445 - conflict, close up of two fists hitting each other over dramatic sky

Image belongs to QSF, queerscifi.com

However! If you wish to read anything else that I have out for free, you can click the tabs above to browse through my available works and then follow the links to my Wattpad account. I love to hear any and all feedback on my work as well. Comments are greatly appreciated, as are the reads. You can also find me on my Facebook author page to keep up to date with all that’s going on in my writing.

And if you’re looking for some other great snippets of fellow authors,
hop on over to Facebook and check out Snippet Sunday!

Obsession – Part 1 (Snippet Sunday 3.18.18)

March 18, 2018April 1, 2018 / Daelyn Morgana / 23 Comments

Welcome to Snippet Sunday on Darkling Dreams!

Where writers come together to share a few sentences (8-10) of their current project — whether it’s a recently released novel, a WIP (work in progress), or an older manuscript that’s being revived. Intended to hook readers, gather feedback and build an author’s fan base, Snippet Sunday is the FB group that does all three.

I’m baaaaack! It’s been a really, really long time since I joined in the Snippet Sunday crew. Eleven months long time. I may not always be consistent depending what I have going on, or what project I’m in the thick of, but I am back for the most part. Ready for some sneak peeks again?

This week’s excerpt is something brand spanking new from me! In light of getting myself back in the game that is writing, I decided to write a submission for the QSF annual flash fiction contest. This year’s theme is “impact” and I came up with a quick soft horror tale, working title Obsession. Obviously I cannot share from this tale for long since it’s only 300 words and I don’t want to spoil all of it, but I will probably finish the month with this tale then move on to something new.

Without further ado, here’s the first ten lines to Obsession…

~*~*~*~

I trailed gold-painted nails through her auburn curls as we laid in bed. Leslie; my beautiful Leslie. She turned her face toward me and smiled that grin that lit up her eyes like firecrackers. I leaned over and pecked her softly on the cheek, leaving a smear of lipstick.

“I love you, Leslie.”

Hazel eyes met mine, “I love you too.”

With a smile I kissed those perfect rose lips, deep and slow. A laugh bubbled up her throat, soon distorting into a whimper. Hands pressed hard against my chest, shoving me off. She didn’t kiss back, tearing her lips away.

~*~*~*~

Well that bit of happiness didn’t last long…

Image belongs to QSF, queerscifi.com

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