#writing excerpt

[ashleyreyland]

"Fifteen years ago you gave a child up for adoption."

"Well hello to you too," Selina purred, looking over at Bruce who was in his Batman attire, "How do you know about that?"

"Because the child is here in Gotham asking me for help."

Selina frowned, "He was adopted out of state-"

"Yes," Bruce cut in, "And his adoptive sister happens to be Comissioner Gordon's niece. She brought him to Gordon who brought them to me."

"What are you asking, Bruce?"

"The child's father wasn't listed on the birth certificate. Fifteen years ago…"

Selina gave a sigh and turned away from Bruce, heading for the kitchen. Bruce didn't hesitate to follow. She poured herself a glass of wine, taking a healthy sip of it before finally turning back to Bruce.

"Yes, he's yours."

"Dammit Selina."

[plotsyndicate]

Why the hell did she have to look hot when she was pissed?

It was fucking annoying.

Her fingers twitched, ready to grab her weapon from his hand, but she hesitated. Just for a second, and that's when he saw it.

The way her eyes flicked, like she’d just realized how close they were. Like she was noticing him the way he’d been noticing her.

His stomach twisted, a sharp, brutal little jolt.

Nope. Not dealing with that.

He smirked wider, lifting the blade higher. “Thought you’d be more grateful, princess.”

Her glare sharpened.

Good.

Because fuck, he needed a distraction right now.

And pissing her off? That was a great one.

Her lips curled, something mean and too confident pulling at her expression. “You just wanted an excuse to see me again.”

His brain blanked for a solid second, before his smirk twitched, something darker, amused, curling up in his chest.

“Oh yeah?” he murmured, stepping closer

Noxx held her ground. Of course she did.

He let the cool steel drop into her hands, but just before she could grab it, his fingers curled just slightly over hers.

Just enough to watch the way her breath hitched.

And fuck, he liked it more than he should.

She snatched Omen away, too fast, too flustered, and that was almost satisfying.

But then she smirked.

“You’d miss me.”

In that moment, Bakugo had never wanted to shut someone up with his mouth so badly in his entire goddamn life.

[inactive-fics]

Tri-Love Exerpt

Requested by: @crazyabout-writing "You could write something about Dr. House, where he is in love with a doctor who is a pediatrician but their relationship is complicated, she is young and beautiful, but then a new doctor arrives. Tall, with black hair and always wearing a black suite, he falls in love with her and house gets jealous.

"You have three minutes..." Y/N says while holding her phone to keep track of the timer. "Go!"

The boy on the exam table grabs the pen provided before furiously drawing his best farm scene. Y/N had found that the boy's parents had to step out of the exam room so she took it upon herself to entertain him.

There is a knock on the door as Dr. House comes in. She looks at him with curiosity. "Whatever it is, it can wait three minutes." She points to the kid on the table, now drawing a lopsided cat.

Gregory House raises a brow. "Does that cat have four legs or--"

Before House's joke can make it out she quickly grabs his wrist and tugs him out of the exam room.

"You were not just going to make a joke like that in a children's exam room. Forget the exam room, this is pediatrics. What are you doing up here?"

House makes a dramatic gasp. "Me? Make an inappropriate joke?"

"Haha," Y/N says unenthusiastically. "What is it?"

"Lunch," he says with a snippy undertone. "You're late. And here I am finding why."

She groans. Of course she's late. When is she not? Before she could apologize, House brings more attention to them with an outburst just as the parents walk in. The situation was made even more embarrassing when Y/N phone alarm goes off. "Oh my Gosh! She's late to lunch because she's been cheating on me!"

"House," she grumbles under her breath before smiling at the child's parents and opening the door for them. Ignoring House, she looks to the child on the table. "Is that what I think it is?"

She shoots House a glare as she shuts the exam room door in his face.

[olis-inkwell-symposium]

How to Create a Flawless Villain: A Comprehensive Guide to Crafting Your Perfect Antagonist

Every great story needs a great villain. Whether you’re writing an epic fantasy or a gritty thriller, the villain is often the character readers can’t forget. They’re complex, morally grey, and create tension that drives the story forward. But how do you avoid clichés and create a villain who sticks with readers long after the book is closed? Let’s dive deep into the art of villain creation, exploring their psychological makeup, societal role, and relationships with the hero. We’ll also touch on how esoteric philosophies or occultism can shape their worldview, motivating them to chase power, forbidden knowledge, or even reshape reality itself.

Core Identity and Origins

A villain’s origin story is the root of their motivations. Were they betrayed by those they trusted? Once a noble hero, now twisted by tragedy? Crafting a rich backstory will set the stage for whom they become.

Name and Meaning: Choose a name that reflects their essence or offers an ironic twist. Consider names rooted in ancient languages, forbidden texts, or alchemical symbols if your villain is into esoteric or occult knowledge.

Defining Childhood Event: What critical moment led them to this path? A betrayal, a prophecy, or perhaps a dark inheritance? This event should haunt them, driving their desire for revenge, power, or forbidden enlightenment.

Motivations, Desires, and Philosophy

Villains aren’t evil for the sake of it. Their motivations—whether it’s control, vengeance, or the pursuit of something beyond mortality—must be clear and compelling.

Primary Goal: What is their ultimate aim? Power, control, or maybe freedom from their own pain? If they’re driven by esoteric philosophies, perhaps they seek to transcend the mortal realm or unlock the universe's hidden truths.

Inner Desires: Beyond their surface goals, what do they truly long for? To become one with a cosmic force? To destroy the current reality and rebuild it in their own image?

Occult and Esoteric Motivations: Do they crave ancient knowledge? Are they obsessed with dark gods, lost magical practices, or the mysteries of existence? These deeper motivations give your villain texture, turning them into something more than just an antagonist.

Psychological and Emotional Depth

To make your villain fully realized, dig into their mind and emotions. They’re driven by traumas, fears, and warped worldviews—making them unpredictable and dangerous.

IQ and Emotional Intelligence: Is your villain a cold mastermind or someone who operates on gut emotion, manipulating others through fear or charisma? Are they emotionally detached or frighteningly intuitive about others’ desires and fears?

Philosophical Depth: Does your villain have a worldview rooted in esoteric thought? Perhaps they believe in alchemical transformation or view themselves as a chosen agent of cosmic order (or chaos).

Fear and Trauma: What do they fear most? Losing control? Facing an entity more powerful than them? How do their traumas influence their choices?

Powers, Strengths, and Weaknesses

Your villain’s abilities should reflect their inner self. Whether they dominate through sheer strength or subtle manipulation, their powers, and weaknesses make them memorable.

Unique Powers: Can they control dark forces or warp reality? Perhaps they’ve mastered necrotic magic or gained immortality at a great cost. Their powers should align with their motivations—reflecting their esoteric pursuits or thirst for control.

Weaknesses: Every great villain has a flaw. Are they vulnerable to their own hubris, bound by cosmic forces they can’t fully control, or haunted by their mortality? This flaw should not only humanize them but also create a vulnerability in their power.

Relationships and Rivalries

Villains thrive in their relationships with others—especially with the hero. Craft dynamic relationships to give your villain emotional stakes.

Relationship with the Hero: The best villain-hero dynamics are deeply personal. Maybe the hero represents a path the villain once rejected. Perhaps they’re old allies, or twisted reflections of one another.

Esoteric Mentors or Rivals: Who taught your villain their dark arts? Did a mentor pass on forbidden knowledge, or does a rival compete for the same cosmic power?

Arc and Transformation

Villains should evolve. Show how they became who they are, whether through corruption or a gradual descent into darkness.

Origin of Villainy: Were they once idealistic, only to be warped by ambition or dark forces? What pushed them from seeking enlightenment to seeking dominance? Their fall from grace should feel inevitable, tied to their deepest desires.

Villain’s Endgame: What do they ultimately want? Is their goal to transcend mortality or reshape reality? By the end of the story, their final form should feel like the culmination of everything they’ve sacrificed.

Visual and Symbolic Representation

Villains often have visual cues that represent their power or past. Their appearance should reflect their inner darkness and esoteric connections.

Appearance: Do they bear occult symbols, alchemical tattoos, or physical scars from dark rituals? Their look should reflect their journey into darkness.

Symbolism: Consider what motifs represent your villain—death, chaos, transformation. These should be woven into their appearance, powers, and actions.

Legacy and Role in the World

Even after your villain is defeated, their influence should remain. They might leave behind followers, secret societies, or prophecies that keep their legacy alive.

Impact on Society: How does your villain shape the world? Do they leave behind grimoires, magical artifacts, or a legacy of fear? Their reign should leave scars that ripple long after they’re gone.

Villain’s Endgame: Whether they succeed or fail, what was their ultimate goal? Were they trying to unravel reality itself, merge with cosmic forces, or create a utopia in their image?

Twists, Secrets, and Moral Complexity

Villains become iconic when they are morally complex. Add twists to make them more than just evil—they might believe they’re saving the world in their own way.

Secret Past or Hidden Identity: Does your villain have a dark secret, perhaps a heroic past or a forbidden bloodline? These secrets add layers to their character, making them more unpredictable.

Moral Complexity: Does your villain believe their actions are necessary for balance? Are they more tragic than evil, motivated by a cosmic truth that others can’t see?

By incorporating esoteric philosophies and occult influences, your villain can become a driving force not just against the hero but against the very core of your world.

[rosaliamama-mia]

Keith wakes up before Lance. It is dark in their room. Their room—whose room was it originally, Keith doesn't know.

Lance shifts quietly but doesn't wake, and his hair tickles Keith's arm as he sleeps, softly breathing like a blue hammock, paradisiacal. Everything evil becomes bearable—if only for a moment.

Keith thinks, I've loved you my whole life, which isn't possible. My life only started when I loved you, which is.

I want you, Keith realizes with such sudden ferocity he almost sits up out of bed. Only, his arm is trapped underneath Lance’s sleeping figure, and Keith would rather chop off his own arm than startle Lance from his sweet dreaming.

Keith cards his fingers through the feathery locks of Lance’s hair, fingertips ghosting against his temple. Lance is sleeping, and Keith risks a small kiss on his forehead to release this wave of affection that threatens to overwhelm him.

He squeezes Lance’s shoulder one last time before mournfully slipping out of bed, carefully maneuvering so as not to wake Lance. Keith shuts the bathroom door before fumbling in the darkness for the light switch. He wants Lance to be able to keep sleeping. The water takes a few minutes to get hot. He brushes his teeth with Lance’s blue toothbrush.

Keith thinks about the sound of water while he washes his face, a habit he’s only just recently picked up under Lance’s persistent insistence. What does water sound like to Lance on the other side of the wall? Can he even hear it? Is he awake? Keith likes hearing a shower running when he’s in bed. It's never loud enough to keep him awake. It's unobtrusive.

Keith wants to fall asleep in the shower and let his troubles be washed away by the warm water.

He turns off the lights and opens the bathroom door, and he can see Lance in bed. He’s completely covered with blankets. He has a pillow under his head and a pillow on top and a pillow in his arms, a replacement for Keith. It is almost time for them to start their day and Keith still doesn’t want to leave. He wants to ignore the universe and never talk to anybody else. He wants to fall asleep in Lance’s arms and never wake up.

He wants to quit being a paladin and languidly climb back in bed with Lance; wants to be the warmth that fills the space next to him. He wants to wake up again in a tangle of limbs so intertwined he can’t begin to tell where he ends and Lance begins.

He wants Lance’s everything, his gentle smile, and the radiant one too, his laugh—the special one, reserved for Keith and only Keith—his sweaty palms, his brown hair, his freckled face, his piercing eyes, his sleepy confused look when he wakes up, and the smile that follows when he sees Keith.

Keith wants it all. He doesn’t want to share.

[crystaltrainwrecks]

‘Soundwave lay curled around the slumbering form of Shockwave, his engines giving an occasional, rumbling snore that vibrated through their back struts and against Soundwave’s chassis.

It was nice.

Warm as Soundwave nuzzled his mask against the back of Shockwave’s neck.

But, as all things did, the peace came to a shattering halt at the arrival of Starscream.’

I would like to thank @wavewavethoughtsonly for inadvertently giving me the inspiration for this little fic 😂🙏🏻

It was actually really nice having a shorter, purely fluffy fic to work on. And I’d love to do one for Dinobot X Optimus Primal from Beast Wars at somepoint! Soooooo I’ll be keeping that in my back pocket for the next time i take a break to write some more fluffy drabbles 👀

Hope yall have a lovely day! 😁🩵

[distortedsense]

]art for my fantasy novel THE DAY MY_DREAM DIED

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Writing Share/Nine Lines Nine People

Thanks to @oh-no-another-idea here, @winterandwords here, @melpomene-grey here, @willtheweaver here, and anyone else who tagged me in the last several months!

Writing Share rules: share some writing!

Nine Lines Nine People: share nine sentences from your WIP! Then tag nine people

Got to FINALLY come up with an Alii video game. Took a while. This has been a placeholder scene for a while. So hope this is better.

From The Secret Portal, Part One (Lexi POV)

I followed Robbie’s avatar as he showed me the ropes of the game. It was quite interesting, actually. It was a horror-survival game where there was a virus that warped an Alii’s powers to a disturbing degree. I’d never been into horror, so I kept screaming. “Watch out, Lexi!” Akash screamed from behind me, pointing at the screen where what looked like a zombie jumped around a corner. I shrieked as I slammed my finger into the tablet screen, into the “Use Power” symbol as I had my character teleport behind the zombie. Then I used a few sword swipes at the thing in front of me. “Ahhhh!” Maddie screamed with me until the zombie was dead. “Epic,” said Kelsey.

Tagging @cherrybombfangirlwrites @sarandipitywrites @sarahlizziewrites @elizaellwrites @diabolical-blue

@leahnardo-da-veggie @katwritesshit @mrbexwrites @orphanheirs

+ ANYONE ELSE

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet @corinnes-old-blog

[magic-is-something-we-create]

as promised earlier: the Shapeshifter Horror

transcript in ALT text

[questionable-idea]

idk what i'm gonna do with this but this is a thing i wrote i guess

[impyssadobsessions]

Excerpts from my WIPS ;3 Guess Which story and when- or if its a story even up. If ya want.

----DPxDC

“Keep communication lines on, we'll be moving towards your location.” Batman had replied, which made Nightwing clicked his teeth. “How much should I bet you're not going to do that?” Dick turned to ask Jason as both of them hopped off the bike. “Do what? I didn't hear anything.” “Okay, so a hundred at least.” Nightwing hummed, as he followed Red-Hood back towards the abandon lab.

----DPxDC

"-One time she sent DASH! To babysit ME! I'm older than both of them now. Y'know how awkward that was? Though the look on Dash's face was hilarious.” Dick smirked, raising a brow. “The guy that bullied you? Why did she ask him?” “Ah, probably because he's a puppy that'll do whatever my sister asks. She knows it too.” Danny clicked his tongue as his face grimaced at the implications of it. “I may or may not have... scared him a few times. I do like a disappearing act.” Dick grinned as he could imagine what Danny meant. He did seem to take any form of “keeping tabs” on him as a challenge. Danny smirked back, a mischievous glint in his eye, before dropping his face. “Jazz was REALLY upset about it. I had assumed this was her being overbearing and protective like usual-I didn't realize how hard this was on her.” The guilt thick in his throat. “She broke down crying and.. I promised her I'll stay out of the house when she's not home. 'Cause I didn't know what to do.. or say. I just..” “Thought of the easiest solution?” “Yeah... I guess.” Danny shrugged, defeated.

---------DPxDC

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Shouldn't you be resting, sir?” Alfred scolded. A small amused smirk on his lips as he carried lunch on a tray. Bruce just made a grunt. His eyes glued to the screen of the laptop. Images, news articles, videos. Whatever he could find was displayed on the screen, while he bit at the end of his pencil. A notepad next to him. “Ah yes, very informative answer, Master Bruce.” Alfred set down the tray on the nightstand beside his bed. There was more than just lunch on the tray as it carried a medical kit. Bruce sighed. He shoved the laptop to the side and struggled to sit up more so Alfred could replace his dressing. “This whole situation just crawls under my skin.” “I say it does, sir.” Alfred's hands move quickly to help replace the doctor's handy work. “Secret government organization, children in peril, and the boarder between life and death getting thinner by the day. Certainly sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

---------BULLY

Pete glanced back up at Mr. Smith. The man was eyeing him carefully, waiting for a reply. He must care about Gary in some way to go through this much trouble, right? And... it would be easier to contact Gary's grandfather than dealing with the headmaster. Pete bit his lip as he thought. “Um, Okay. S-sure.” “Atta boy! Hahaha!” Allen laughed as he smacked his hand on Pete's shoulder, making him stumble. Pete really needed to work on not being pushed around so easily. “Though, if you can mange to keep little Garreth in line, I'll add in a little bonus for your trouble. Since you're doing more than half what I was paying this damn school to do.” “That's not-” “Some good advice. Never work for free, Pete. Consider it a token of gratitude. After all, I think we both know watching my grandson isn't an easy task.” Allen winked.

--------DPXDC

Tim had no idea how he was going to pull this off. His eyes glancing from the Fenton parents to the boy he met yesterday, Danny Fenton. He knew he was dead. At least, was ghostly in some way. Danny didn't act or looked how Greta did, but Greta was visible as Deadman wasn't. So perhaps ghosts varied drastically? Either way, Danny being dead wasn't even the part that was bothering him. It was knowing he had to pretend he didn't know- while Danny sat right next to his oblivious killers. Well, the word killer might be too harsh. Tim theorized it was an accident regarding with a portal that opened on top of Danny. Which might also explain Danny's unique qualities.

---------DPxDC

“...Danny has traces of... Lazarus pit... stronger than yours.” Tim answered, with a concerned tone. They were afraid of how Jason would take it. And Jason was not taking it well, as he felt cold rage deep in his veins. The icy chill as he acknowledged that not only was Danny his blood... he shared the worse part of his blood. The reminder that they... Had died. Those scars... that was how Danny died and so far knowing their luck, he doubted it was painless. “Little Wing? Jay bird? You there, I'm almost at your location. How's Danny?” Dick called on the comms. Jason pulled the boy more into his jacket, giving him the best attempt of a hug he could. “Better than the fuckers who did this to him will be.”

------DPXDC

Danny had made an unfortunate discovery. His powers, like all ghosts, were based on emotion. Other's emotions. Even worse, the strongest one was fear. Fear fed on itself and grew stronger and stronger. And what made him discover this, made his heart sink with dread. He was stuck powerless in Gotham as his friends were laughing themselves to death along with other hostages in the room. Danny cursed at himself for listening to Sam. He should have phased them out of there, regardless of Batman's no meta rule. Now the only fear emitting into the room was his own. They were too far from others for him to feed off of, and ectoplasm was low. No.. more like the ectoplasm was being pulled away from the ground of Gotham and seeping into some other being that was far too greedy. “Well, well, well~ Look what we have here? A little party pooper!” A man with green hair and clown painted face cackled, as he waltz his way over to Danny. The black-hair teen ripped his eyes from his friends, glaring at the man. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fist, while he stayed knelt over his friends. “Funny, most parties I've seen at least has music.” Danny was feeling sweat dripping off his face. He needed to do something fast, but if he couldn't transform.. then he wasn't sure what else he isn't able to do. Not like this man looked fit, but... Danny knew danger when he sees it. “Ah, but this is music! To my ears at least, ehehehehe!”

----------CAMP CAMP

“Ah. Smell that, Gwen?” “Smell what.” “That fresh breeze! We had gone a full twenty-four hours without a single camp activity catching on fire.” “Huh, I guess you're right! This camp only smells half as shitty-” “Where's Max?” Both Gwen and David utter out in realization as it had dawn that neither of them had seen the troublesome trio since breakfast. --- “Don't worry Max! We'll save you once I finish chewing off my leg-” “Nikki! DON'T!” “Well... I'm fucked.”

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

OC Kiss Week - Feb 10th - Desperate

I'll be sharing snippets (both canon and post-canon) of Sasha and Faro's love story in A Little Prayer for Dead Gods. So you can expect to see a lot of cute and sexy moments this week.

content warnings: kissing

'Making up for lost time' is one way to call it, another would be 'a dam bursting'. There is so much he wishes to tell Faro, but anything he can't tell him with his tongue preoccupied will have to wait until later.

After the flood has come and gone.

While their mouths are connected, Sasha's hands wander across muscular skin he hasn't felt in so long. He's still so warm and comfortable and smells like rain in the summer, the only home Sasha would ever want to return to.

Does Faro feel the same way about him?

He opens his mouth to welcome Faro inside and finds him digging his fingers into his hair, pulling him closer in their never-ending quest to melt into each other completely.

Faro's grip is tight, as if he's terrified Sasha will slip through his fingers and disappear forever.

'I'm not going anywhere without you. I'm yours. I'm yours. I'm yours.'

Even though he's unable to speak, he believes Faro will hear the answer to his silent pleas from the beat of his heart and his shuddering breaths.

His body lights up at every touch, more sensitive than ever, after their time apart. It's not fair, he wants this to last forever like Faro promised. But he won't be able to last long, enduring the undivided attention of his merciless God.

Faro bites down on his lip, not enough to hurt, but enough to drag a groan out of Sasha's throat.

He's harsh and soft, nipping one moment and going back to kissing the next, almost like he knows exactly how to mend Sasha's broken heart, one little piece at a time.

Taglist: @eatinghemlocks, @foxgloves-garden, @sarandipitywrites, @northwyrm, @trixierosewrites,

@walkman-cat, @asher-writes, @seastarblue, @aloeverawrites, @firesidefantasy

@tracle0, @thelaughingstag, @ravenekrops, @frantheram, @cacophonyofwords

[wordlesslyjenneh]

Theme of Love Excerpt: Chapter 30

It happened too fast for Kain to react, a new weight slamming into his chest, sending him sprawling to the ground. He heard a loud snuff of nostrils and felt warm breath on his exposed jaw; Kain wondered what sort of beast Barbariccia had summoned to eat him.

The weight was suddenly gone, and Kain sat up to see a small dragon, not much bigger than a hatchling, tearing fur and flesh from the Sword Rat. It paused to throw a piece up into the air, then playfully caught it with a snap of its jaws. Its scales were a dark blue, the color of the night sky just before it turned black. Despite its enthusiastic eating, it watched Kain with curious yellow eyes.

Barbariccia laughed, and that drew Kain’s attention back to her. “She likes you already,” Barbariccia remarked with a smile. “I heard her a few days ago, crying for her lost mother, so I guided her here.” Her smile faded then, and Barbariccia’s eyes went distant as she looked out to the horizon. “She… reminded me of you.”

AO3 Link

[rosaliamama-mia]

In the mornings, half awake, Lance clumsily grasps at strands of nothingness, hand outstretched in search of some other human warmth. Eventually, memory catches up—he went to bed alone and he will wake up alone, and that is how it will always have to be—and Lance gets up very quickly to escape the emptiness.

Wishes fall like little tears drops from his eyes. He wishes he could catch them just like he wishes he could kiss her mouth and conquer everything again, but he hasn't found beauty yet. He hasn’t even found a reason to open the window.

He can hardly brush his teeth. No one calls by the phone, and no one commits to healing for more than a few weeks.

Lance may laugh and he may smile, but through his appalling superficiality, therein lies the upsetting knowledge that the feeling never really goes away; it instead lingers like a foul cloud of flies over the rotting corpse of his dreams.

The sun continues to cast its golden shadow; soldiers continue to march and children continue to cry and life continues to spit in his face like the world hasn’t already ended. The future is a vase already dropped and the same bad day will repeat three hundred and sixty-five times, and Lance will have to learn to live with that.

It is so easy to crawl back under the covers and to leave spilled sugar on the counter. It is so easy to shift into comfortable monotony, so easy to fall in love with the idea of domestication, it is close enough to kiss—but not yet, no, not yet.

He catches glimpses of his watery reflection in the bathroom sink. Allura’s marks shine painfully in the streaks of yellow morning light that peek through his closed window. Lance wills the marks on his cheek to disappear. Instead, they continue to shine like pale moonlight.

Last night, Lance dreamt about tracing Allura's nose with his finger. The rest of the morning, he feels like he's been severed from a piece of himself.

[bodyhorror-bimbo]

Chest heaving. Heart thrumming. Panic burns the edges of her mind. Hooves crashing through gnarled roots, ears fluttering in a panic, and dark eyes, frantic. Blue-green smears pelt, as hungry maws camber down the hillside. She’s lost. The dark woods leave little light. As her scent trails behind, copper and sweet. Mud splattering.

Hunger mounting.

Fear sinking

The hind breying.

Eyes wide. She sees me.

Crunch.

[distortedsense]

]art for my fantasy novel THE DAY MY DREAM DIED