- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- 1-3 posts per week
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Primarily Prefer Female
- Genres
- Fantasy (high, low and anything in between), modern, medieval, anything that'll keep me at the edge of my seat. Romance is absolutely necessary. And fluff. Just a lil bit.
The day at the library had gone just as any other; nothing too out of the ordinary. She had spotted a fleeting cat with a coat of midnight fur cross her feet, which, in hindsight, should've been her first red flag to run for the hills, to get her sorry ass home and bury her face in a bible or some other religious text, or to grab the vegetable oil from the cabinet and anoint herself.
For when it came time to close up shop, she had seemingly stumbled into what appeared to be a federal offense. The terrible navigator she is, June had been nose deep in a book, and one wrong step led to one wrong turn into the wrong alleyway. June stared, eyes boggling out of her skull, at the sight before her. A man beaten to the ground sitting in a pool of someone's blood, with a group of rowdy looking people surrounding him. She counted 5 men and 3 women.
Of course, because that was just her luck.
Fear had taken its grip on her knees. One woman looked over her shoulder and discovered June, standing there with quivering hands clasping a book. For a moment, they held a steady glance, and June silently pleaded with her, but it was too late. Another man, and another, and another all looked at June. Curse her small stature-- they all towered over her like lions over a mushroom. They were shouting, and she knew this because their mouths were moving and hands were waving, but she could not decipher the words on their lips. She almost forgot to run.
Somewhere along the way of sprinting for her fucking life, June had, in addition to dropping the book that had gotten her into this mess in the first place, dropped her bag, which held her cell phone and wallet. Of course. Of course. Of fucking course. She had turned at every possible street, trying to shake them off her tail, but they were persistent. And very fast. A fleeting glance behind her shoulder told her that it was not, in fact, the entire gang that chased after her, but only two. A man and a woman.
For when it came time to close up shop, she had seemingly stumbled into what appeared to be a federal offense. The terrible navigator she is, June had been nose deep in a book, and one wrong step led to one wrong turn into the wrong alleyway. June stared, eyes boggling out of her skull, at the sight before her. A man beaten to the ground sitting in a pool of someone's blood, with a group of rowdy looking people surrounding him. She counted 5 men and 3 women.
Of course, because that was just her luck.
Fear had taken its grip on her knees. One woman looked over her shoulder and discovered June, standing there with quivering hands clasping a book. For a moment, they held a steady glance, and June silently pleaded with her, but it was too late. Another man, and another, and another all looked at June. Curse her small stature-- they all towered over her like lions over a mushroom. They were shouting, and she knew this because their mouths were moving and hands were waving, but she could not decipher the words on their lips. She almost forgot to run.
Somewhere along the way of sprinting for her fucking life, June had, in addition to dropping the book that had gotten her into this mess in the first place, dropped her bag, which held her cell phone and wallet. Of course. Of course. Of fucking course. She had turned at every possible street, trying to shake them off her tail, but they were persistent. And very fast. A fleeting glance behind her shoulder told her that it was not, in fact, the entire gang that chased after her, but only two. A man and a woman.
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