A Shovelful of Writers
A lesser known sonnet – well, it has fourteen lines anyway.

A really long chapter that was fun to write: Dawn.

Stone

8.

“Who exactly are you?” I raised an eyebrow at the new girl. Leina, Leina, who the hell was Leina?

“Oh don’t worry,” She giggled as she stepped confidently around me, leaning in and speaking quickly into my ear; her hot breath resonated against my skin. “You’re going to get to know me REALLY well.”

“Jesus!” I stepped back quickly and glared at her. “Personal space, bitch!”

Sabrina looks towards the lake from the swing she was sitting in. The cool night breeze causes some loose strands of her golden bronze color hair to flutter. Tears stream down from her eyes as she wonders what she is going to do. She had 30 days to leave the apartment she had because she couldn’t afford to pay the rent.

The place marked ‘Windmill field’ on the deeds to my holding is a special place to me. Being there conjures visions of what the area was like before Henry VIII’s dissolution of the nearby Abbeytown abbey going on for four hundred years ago. My property was the abbey’s mill.

Not all seduction is in your face if you’ll pardon the expression, but this is a tale of a gentle seduction that was and still is literally in his face.
Now stop it and keep it clean girls because I know you know what I mean and will understand where I’m coming from, again if you’ll pardon the expression.

Stuck in a Rut.
By Rosalie Redd

Casey Church is dealing with the usual things that any Fourteen year old girl has to deal with. That is if they are a girl in a world where girls aren’t born, they are transformed. Leaving her male life behind is difficult, and new threats are on the horizon.

Chapter 47

This is the last of the chapters in the queue, so it will probably be a few days until the next one. Enjoy: Dawn.

Stone

7.

“The Duke is a fool,” Sir Mowath said with a curse. Captain Mitchell gasped at the sacrilege. He had been brought up to believe that the nobility were appointed by God. But Mowath was his patron, and he said nothing.

Can you buy a new identity at Kmart?

A sink school and a broken Britain, symptoms of a dis-functional democracy. Can a dying teacher with a vision, a recently released armed robber with nothing and a twenty-five year old widowered musician walking a tightrope with the abyss of insanity on one side and the temptations of suicide on the other do anything to help…?