#free fiction

[mabelpodcast]

Do you like reading pornography? Do you like super weird pornography set in Los Angeles? That you can read completely for free? If so, you should read my new short stories up at Anarchic Candy (the website where I publish all my romance fiction free of charge, instead of selling it, and myself, through an industry I despise). There's one about a mermaid and a failed screenwriter doing porn, there's one about a boy with a very strange garden in a canyon, there's one about a TV writer and a group of entities up on an old historic building in Downtown Los Angeles. There will be more, when I write them. They'll probably be even weirder. Some of them are true. They're all interconnected, too. You'll see what I mean.

Also there's COMEBACK, my novel that several super legit literary agents wanted to publish! It's about a has-been, rumoured-to-be-drug-addicted former teen superstar and her make up artist going on tour together. It's not pornography (though there is sex in it), but it is fun! And sad. And gay. And an indictment of the modern age. But in an entertaining way!

Download them all, for free, from Anarchic Candy.

How is the end of your year?

#b post #anarchic candy #free stories #smut #free fiction

[nokingsonlyfooles]

Alright. Gonna set down the feed and plug the thing.

New year, new habits!

I write this travesty!

The site is in constant need of repair, so are the characters, and so is the author (me). Part 1 is steampunk, and in Part 2 we've gone diesel. It starts with a hate crime, this is not for the faint of heart, but it does get quite funny in places. The absurdity is a coping mechanism!

I've got to break my website later so I can try to fix it, but there's a new instalment this week so I'll give people time to read that, if there's any takers!

Known Readers: 2 (hi 5th and Kith!); 1st Goalpost: 10?

If you're reading, check in with me. My hit counter is buggy AF and I moved the comments offsite, to Tumblr. I won't know you're there if you don't say hi!

Known Supporters: I'm burning my Patreon to the ground because they annoyed me, give me some time to set up someplace else! 1st Goalpost: 5?

If you WANT to support, go ahead and let me know that too. I'll be working on a subscription basis in the future - you'll only pay when I publish!

#tin soldier and soldier on #free fiction #writers on tumblr #indie fiction #writblr #steampunk #dieselpunk #magic #harry potter alternatives #dramedy #anarchist fiction #socialist fiction #new reader drive #ocs #original characters #character development #potential sexymen! #if i seem desperate it's only because i am! #happy new year! #new year new story! #I hope!

[junos-office-drama]

Blue Beard, Red Rose (3.4k, complete)

"And here are the keys to all the rooms in my castle, which you may explore at your leisure — save the great parlor, which you are never to enter."

Rosalind contemplated her new husband, then the heavy ring of keys he had laid in her hand.

"First is the key to my great store room," he continued, pointing to the first key on the iron ring. "And this key will open the chests within, piled high with all the silver and gold and jewels you could ever desire, and this one opens the money boxes, that you might have coin for anything you wish to buy."

She nodded as he counted through the keys: for gates and doors, for trunks and lockboxes, for bedchambers and apartments, for closets and cabinets — for every inch of the castle.

"And this is the key to the great parlor, but you must never unlock it — never even put the key into the lock — lest you incur my wrath."

Rosalind paused, once again contemplating her husband.

He should have been as rich in brides as he was in gold, if not for the feature that had come to define him: the blue beard that sprouted from his chin.

It was not blue the way that old age often fades black into blue, for that was common enough among men of his age, but rather the blue of an evening sky, of a deep lake, of a polished sapphire.

This beard, it seemed, had rendered him so horrible and ugly to both noble lady and peasant girl alike that none would have him, not even when his proposal came with a mountain of gold.

It did not help matters that he had had six wives already, though no one knew what had become of them.

Rosalind did not mind the blue, for he had courted her with kindness, and that mountain of gold promised an escape from beneath her lord father's roof.

Besides, it seemed proper, that she marry a man with as many missing wives as she had failed suitors.

"Do you wish for the key back?" she asked, moving to open the iron ring so that she could slip the key free.

This time, it was Blue Beard that paused, his dark brow settling heavy over his eyes.

"No, you are my wife, and as such you are entitled to all the keys of my home," he answered at last. "But you must never use the key to the great parlor, for if you do, then there shall be dread consequences."

Rosalind simply nodded. "What about the grounds?"

Blue Beard frowned at her. "The grounds?"

She gestured towards the window. "The lawn, and the forest beyond. Are there any restrictions on exploring those?"

"No," he replied, puzzlement crinkling the skin around his eyes. "What interest do you have in the grounds?"

"I would like to have a garden," she said, looking towards the window before turning back towards him. "Like the one I tended at home. May I spend some of your coin on that?"

Blue Beard blinked. "It is our coin, for you are my wife, and what is mine is yours. You may have any plot of land you wish for a garden, and spend as much as you desire in its planting, so long as you do not—"

"I won't." Rosalind rubbed her finger over the little silver key to the great parlor. "But I should like to have a private garden, a space that is mine alone. Will that trouble you, husband, if I am to have a garden as secret as your parlor, that you are equally forbidden to enter?"

After considering her question for a long moment, Blue Beard acceded, for he could see no harm in his wife's request.

In the spring, she planted the hedges. Within that broad square, she planted her flowers: foxglove and forget-me-not, narcissus and nightshade, lilies and larkspur, and roses — red, red roses.

Blue Beard traveled that season, as he always did, and upon parting, he encouraged his young wife to host her friends and family while he was gone, to explore and enjoy the castle to its fullest extent, and to indulge in all the riches and luxury he had to offer — so long as she did not enter the forbidden parlor.

When he returned, there was no sign that any guests had crossed the castle's threshold, nor that his wife had crossed the parlor's threshold.

By summer, the hedges had grown tall and thick as walls, and Rosalind used her husband's hoard of coins to pay for the forging of a solid iron gate for her garden. It spanned the sole break in the hedges, transforming the garden into a stout green fortress.

Blue Beard traveled once more, this time imploring his young wife to bring company to their sprawling estate, to enjoy the castle's drawing rooms and library and galleries, to drape herself in silks and jewels — so long as she did not open the door to the great parlor.

When he returned, the castle was as empty as he had left it, and the parlor door as locked as it had always been, though he noted one small change: a golden key added to the iron ring, nestled next to the little silver one.

As autumn arrived, Rosalind was still occupied with her garden: weeding, trimming, planting, and any other task that allowed her to track dirt into the courtyard, or so it seemed to Blue Beard. He watched her with great interest as she locked and unlocked the garden gate, his mind frequently drawn to the golden key she had added to the iron ring.

Blue Beard traveled again, his last journey of the year, and once more offered his wife the full pleasure of their home: to entertain, if she so pleased; to redecorate, if she so chose; to burn to ashes, if she was so inclined — so long as she did not unlock the door to the great parlor.

When he returned, there was a dark smudge on the little silver key — but it was only mud, tromped in from Rosalind's garden.

A hard frost announced the coming winter, and the end of Blue Beard's travels.

He sat one night in front of the drawing room hearth, frowning as he watched the flames.

"Troubled, husband?" Rosalind asked as she looked up from her embroidery.

"I do not know what to do with a wife in winter," he admitted. "None of the others made it this far."

She lifted a single brow.

"They had all opened the great parlor by now."

"Ah," she said. "Well, I have no need of your parlor. I have my garden."

He rubbed a hand over his beard. "You do not have your garden now, for it is buried under the snow."

Rosalind stabbed her needle back into the cloth she had been embroidering. "I have you now, and you will not travel again until the snow has melted."

"Which begs the question: What does one do with a wife in winter?"

A sly look passed through her green eyes. "I can think of a few things, husband." She tugged on the red floss. "But for now, perhaps you can tell me why you travel so, and why I am so often without a husband."

Blue Beard studied his wife, for it seemed to him an odd question. None of his other wives had ever asked why he traveled; only two had survived to see him off a second time, and only Rosalind had witnessed a third departure.

But Rosalind had welcomed him home a third time without fear, and it was said that magic dwelt in threes.

So Blue Beard told her why he traveled so.

He spoke of the scheming youngest brother, who plotted to usurp his station.

He spoke of the slippery court cofferer, who demanded his palms greased with gold.

He spoke of the savage pirate captain, who roamed the seas and seized his cargo ships.

Rosalind nodded as he spoke, drawing her red floss back and forth through the cloth, until it had formed a red rose.

"Come, then, husband," she said as she set the finished bloom down upon the table. "Let me show you what one does with a wife in winter."

Too quickly, the winter nights passed.

When the sun rose bright upon the spring buds, it was time for Blue Beard to travel once more.

Once again, he bade his wife to invite her favorite company to their castle while he was gone, to host galas and masquerades in their many courts and halls, and to deck herself with gilt and gold until she glittered like the king's crown.

Before he left, Rosalind tucked a pale blue rose into his pocket. "Travel well, husband," she bid him, "and I will greet you happily upon your return."

And when Blue Beard returned weary from his long voyage, she welcomed him with tender arms.

"I journeyed far and wide, across every mile of the countryside," he told her as he slumped into her embrace. "But I could not find my brother, and I fear he will brew great trouble for us."

"Fear not, husband," Rosalind replied. "For I have done as you bade, and invited many guests from far and wide to our home while you were away. Among them, your youngest brother." She paused, and smiled. "I think he shall trouble you no longer, so long as you do not enter my garden."

Blue Beard swore he would not, for though the golden key bore a fresh stain on its bow, its silver twin still lay polished and gleaming upon the iron ring. Instead he kissed his wife upon her pretty cheeks, and led her upstairs.

Some weeks later, when the sun rose hot upon the summer blossoms, it was time for Blue Beard to travel once more.

As he had before, he entreated his wife to host as many guests as she pleased at their grand estate, from noble friend to penniless relation; to make each room of their fine castle her own, to furnish and style as she pleased; and to empty his money boxes of every last pence, if only to lavish herself with gifts.

Before he left, Rosalind tucked a shining yellow rose into his pocket. "Travel safe, husband," she bid him, "and I will greet you sweetly upon your return."

And when Blue Beard returned worn from his long voyage, she welcomed him with gentle arms.

"I scoured every inch of the city," he told her as he fell into her embrace. "But I could not locate the court cofferer, and I worry he will cause fear trouble for us."

"Fear not, husband," Rosalind replied. "For I have done as you entreated, and redecorated the western wing to my tastes. The court cofferer was only too pleased to aid me in my purchases, and to slip a few coins into his own purse as he did so." She paused, and smiled. "I think he shall trouble you no longer, so long as you do not open the gate to my garden."

Blue Beard pledged that he would not, for though the golden key bore a deep gouge in its shank, its silver twin still lay unmarked and unused upon the iron ring. Instead he kissed his wife upon her smooth forehead, and led her upstairs.

The month following, when the sun rose golden upon the autumn harvest, it was time for Blue Beard to travel once more.

As he always did, he commanded his wife to surround herself with those whose company she enjoyed best, to transform their sumptuous castle into her personal paradise, and to spend every coin she might find in his chests and trunks and strong boxes.

Before he left, Rosalind tucked a pitch black rose into his pocket. "Travel swiftly, husband," she bid him, "and I will greet you eagerly upon your return."

And when Blue Beard returned weak from his long voyage, she welcomed him with strong arms.

"I sailed every stretch of the seas," he told her as he sank into her embrace. "But I could not track down the dread pirate, and I fear he will bring great trouble upon us."

"Fear not, husband," Rosalind replied. "For I have done as you commanded, and I have emptied your chests and trunks and strong boxes of every ounce of gold they contained. I have purchased the pirate captain's ship, and bribed him to come ashore." She paused, and smiled. "I think he shall trouble you no longer, so long as you do not unlock the gate to my garden."

Blue Beard promised he would not, for though the golden key had grown tarnished with use, its silver twin still lay clean and bright upon the iron ring. Instead he kissed his wife upon her red mouth, and led her upstairs.

When the sun rose pale upon the frosted lawn, it was time for Blue Beard to rest.

Though he could not rest, for the golden key tempted him, even in his dreams.

Blue Beard knew every inch of his castle, even knew what lay behind the locked door of the great parlor, but he did not know what lay beyond the locked gate of his wife's garden.

"Flowers," she told him, "just like any other garden. Much the way your great parlor, I imagine, contains tables and chairs, just like any other great parlor."

Though it was an answer, it did not quell Blue Beard: for his great parlor held more than tables and chairs, and so in turn her garden must hold more than flowers.

It was the first time, he realized, that he had a curiosity that he was unable to satisfy.

Night after night, the thought gnawed at him, until he could bear its teeth no longer.

On the day that his wife chose to accompany their steward to the market, Blue Beard slipped the small golden key from its iron ring and crept through the snow to the garden gate.

There he hesitated, for there had been vows between husband and wife, and his wife had kept her vow. The thought tugged at him that there might be some terrible price to pay for his indiscretion, much as he had warned his wife of the frightful consequences of violating his own admonitions.

And yet... and yet the golden key gleamed so brilliantly in his hand that he could not but insert it into its lock. With a quick twist of his fingers, the locking mechanism sprung open, and the iron hinges swung inwards.

At first, Blue Beard saw only withered flowers, weighed down by a blanket of crisp snow. There lay the dead and dying stems of foxglove and forget-me-not, of narcissus and nightshade, and of lilies and larkspur.

Further into the garden he trespassed, following the narrow footsteps that his wife had left the day before, until he found himself before a great wall of roses — red, red roses.

The blooms stood bold and crimson beneath the white, as if it were the full height of summer, rather than the deep freeze of winter.

Beneath them, the soil was red as blood.

In his shock, Blue Beard dropped the golden key — and it landed amongst the roses' tangled roots, where shards of bone glinted pale beneath the winter sun.

As soon as his senses had returned to him, he snatched it up again, hurriedly brushing the mud from its gilded surface with his fingertips. Then Blue Beard fled from the garden, stopping but once to close and lock the gate, before galloping the rest of the distance back to the castle.

There he found his wife Rosalind, having returned early from the market.

"Husband," she said, green eyes scraping him up and down. "Your clothes are wet with snowmelt."

"I took a stroll through the woods," he offered, feeling himself grow pale.

Rosalind watched him still. "Your hands are sticky with mud."

"I fell on the path," he offered, and grew paler still.

But there was no compassion in his wife's chilled gaze. "Your fingertips are stained with gold."

Blue Beard startled, for it was true — wherever his hands had touched the golden key, they had become stained with gold.

He grew so pale that even his beard went white.

With a resigned breath, Rosalind reached for the pruning hook that hung from the chatelaine at her waist.

"You have been in the garden," she surmised, her own fingers wrapping around the fine wooden handle. "And now you must return to it, and join your youngest brother, and the court cofferer, and the pirate captain, and with them serve as bone meal for my roses."

In her hand, the hook's blade shone as bright as Blue Beard's silver key.

Overcome with terror, he flung himself onto the floor at her feet.

"Wait!" he sobbed, his hands pressing together in supplication. "First let me show you the great parlor, before you show me my fate, I beg of you."

Rosalind paused, then; she had already raised the hand with the pruning hook, and aimed it to prune his throat, but now she lowered it slowly, for while she had not broken her vow, Blue Beard was not the only spouse to feel the bite of curiosity.

"I will let you unlock the great parlor," she decided, "but it may not save you from my wrath, nor from my roses."

It was on unsteady feet that Blue Beard climbed the stairs, trailed by his lady wife.

With a trembling hand, he took the little key and opened the door to the great parlor, then stepped back, so that she might look inside.

"Know all my secrets, my dear wife," he pleaded. "So that you may know the full truth of your husband."

Rosalind stepped up to the threshold of the great parlor, and squinted as she peered inside.

At first, she could discern nothing, for the windows were tightly shuttered and little daylight penetrated into the parlor. But as her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she began to perceive shapes: tables and chairs — and the bodies of six women, propped against the walls, their throats slashed through and though, such that they gaped like second mouths, dark and permanently screaming.

"Ah," said Rosalind. "Your former wives."

"Each dead by my hand," he admitted. "The first for being a cruel sorceress, who cursed me with this blue beard, and each following for failing to heed my warnings."

His newest wife contemplated him with cool eyes. "As you have failed to heed mine."

"For which I must beg forgiveness." Again, Blue Beard dropped to his knees, this time clutching at the hem of his wife's kirtle. "I have broken your trust, and this I do not know how to mend. I would give you galas and masquerades, I would give you every stone of my spacious castle, I would give you all the gold and jewels I possess, but these things I have already given you, and I have nothing more to give, save my life, which I now give without hesitation."

Rosalind's fingers once more gripped the pruning hook as she studied the man who had warmed her bed so many winter nights.

"I will take it," she announced, but her hand loosened upon the handle. "Every day of your life, from now until your natural death, to be spent at my side, as my loyal husband."

Tears streamed from Blue Beard's eyes. "Rosalind?"

"In the spring," she continued, "you will help me plant new roses, white ones, and we shall feed them with the bones of your former wives."

At these words, her husband kissed at her skirts, and at her feet, and at her hands, washing them with his tears, until he had washed the last trace of anger from her green eyes.

By the summer, Blue Beard's castle was wreathed with white roses — though he could no longer be called Blue Beard, for his whiskers never regained their color, and remained stubbornly white for the remainder of his days.

So it came to be that Alban and Rosalind shared all their secrets as husband and wife, and lived happily ever after.

Photography Credits:

Door by Kelly Sikkema (@kellysikkema)

Rose background by René Porter (@reneporter)

Bloody hand by Mohamed Nohassi (@coopery)

Beard by Masoud Nikookalam (@msdnikoo)

Castle by Sean Thomas (@seansinspired)

Rings by Nima Izadi (@nimz_co)

Key by Everyday basics (@zanardi)

Rose busy by Klim Musalimov (@klim11)

All photography used with permission via the Unsplash License.

#folktale #fairytale #dark fairytale #fairy tale retelling #fairytale retelling #blue beard #fanfiction #junos fiction #short story #free fiction #fiction #happily ever after #with murder #barbe bleue #rose-red #writing

[brandyschillace]

SPOTLIGHT and SAMPLE CHAPTER! Please check out this lovely piece about my new book—includes a sample chapter and images drawn by me to illustrate the book (also at @netherleigh IG account): #mystery #cozy #autistic #british #samplechapter #fiction #book

#british mystery #cozy mystery #mystery novel #newreleases #autistic protagonist #free fiction #sample

[tardistogongen]

So, since I didn't really promote anything while I was sick with Covid, shamelessly sharing this book I put a lot of work and love into. It's a (free!) novel written to celebrate Arcbeatle Press' 10th Anniversary. You don't need to know jack shit going into it, and other people tell me parts of it are deeply moving. Deals a lot with mental health. Also features Chris Cwej from the Doctor Who Virgin New Adventures because why not (and he's legally licensed to appear!). So yeah. Go enjoy it. It's free. Have fun.

#chris cwej #warsong #free fiction #scifi novel #lady aesculapius #doctor who #academy 27

[delilahdesanges]

[Publishing] A Change of Clothes

I feel like I should add some sort of digital confetti to this announcement: first time I’ve had a podfic done! Now available to listen to (and read) on Podcastle.org, my short story A Change of Clothes is narrated by Isaac Harwood, and produced by Devin Martin. According to the show it’s rated PG13, which I think I pretty much agree with. There’s no cover but I always feel I’m jazzing the…

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#audiofic #books #creative #creativity #fic #fiction #free fiction #podfic #publishing #writers on wordpress #writing

[junipercalle]

Print your own Cypher!

The Green Lodge Cypher is now available in PDF form. If you'd like to read through the story in its proper timeline, or begin to puzzle anything apart, this is the best way to read it.

Set in 1996 rural Maryland, the Green Lodge Cypher is the work of an enterprising college student as they watch their world rapidly change. Fandom is changing; their hometown is changing; the economy is changing; and there are alarming reports of an invasive plant species... can they maintain their own life when they don't feel like even their world has a future?

Written by Juniper Calle, the Cypher is a love-letter to what fandom can mean to individuals, and an adventure in high strangeness.

Formatted in its original 11x17" setup, you can print front-to-back on regular 11x17 paper and have a full set of Cypher issues. I used a printing service; anybody that does online print submissions, at-counter file acceptance, or email-in files should be able to do it. If you still have a local printer, I recommend them: Fedex or Staples would also do. Glitching not included: that, of course, is due to its nature...

#analog horror #the green lodge cypher #science fiction #original fiction #free fiction #free to read #maryland

[lilyhargrave]

Posting Announcement!

Get ready for new people joining our cast, more action, more romance, more world-building, more of everything! Oh, we're really in it now!

Obsidian: Ash and Moonbeams will start posting:

On Patreon: Wed., 19th of July (that’s next week! Sign up is pay what you want, from 1 €/$/£)

On House Draculesti: Wed., 16th of August – free to read!

On AO3: Wed., 13th of September

Initial schedule will be 2 chapters of roughly 4k words a week, updating Wednesdays and Fridays.

We are deep in the writing and editing, and ecstatic to get back to sharing it all with you!

Newcomers, join the story here:

Anyone who needs a refresher on this arc, we started here:

Woot!

About House Draculesti:

Do you need more queer in your life? More found family? Do you need more vampires, more weres, more fog-wreathed streets of Victorian London? More castles and mountains and dragons? Then you're in the right place! House Draculesti is a fiction web serial written by author team Lily Hargrave and Devan Dacian, following Darcy Seward, child of Dr Jack Seward and Lucy Westenra (yes, like from Dracula) and Arthur Lancaster, mage, accidental demon-summoner, as they pick their way through politics and family and life among humans and supernaturals alike.

#house draculesti #house draculesti: obsidian #obsidian: ash and moonbeams #writeblr #writing #writers of tumblr #indie publishing #fiction #vampires #dracula #free fiction

[cmrosens]

The Sussex Fretsaw Massacre

Enjoying the Pagham-on-Sea series but want more Ricky content? Or know a little something about the series and want to dip in but not sure if you want to start with the novels? This is the standalone novella for you: The Sussex Fretsaw Massacre sees five strangers doomed to die arrive at Fairwood House… but the sixth member of the party has a quite different destiny. You can buy this novella…

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#audiobook #featured #fiction #free fiction #horror comedy #horror novella #Pagham-on-Sea #Podcast #serial fiction #slasher comedy

[housebaylor]

#ilona andrews #free fiction

[jsmawdsley]

What is this? Why, it's a free short story for your weekend!

In a Big Pond

#free fiction #short story #indie authors

[berenwrites]

I am celebrating my 100th week on YouTube and hence have created a longer story vid as well as all my shorts this week. It's a paranormal murder mystery. Enjoy!

Watch to the end to find out how to get a free copy of the eBook too.

Survival of the Fittest: Werewolves & Witches & More

On the surface, a quiet sleepy town, but it has ancient and deep secrets. Lil, the sheriff of this small, supernatural backwater, is the only thing standing between the cheerfully oblivious humans and the powerful supernatural beings that live alongside them. When a body washes up on the shore of the lake, Lil must face off against the supernatural conflict that threatens to tear her town apart. With the stakes higher than ever, can Lil uncover the truth and solve the murder of the werewolves’ alpha before it’s too late?

Many thanks for any reblogs.💖

#Survival of the Fittest #paranormal mystery #murder mystery #free fiction #free eBook #Natasha Duncan-Drake #original fiction #werewolves #witches #dryads #free read #free watch #stories read aloud #Youtube

[nokingsonlyfooles]

Hello, Random Tumblrite! Ya like stories, don'tcha? Tin Soldier #1-229 is available now, and Soldier On updates one minute after midnight, PDT, on April 16, 23 & 30, and May 7 & 14! New Readers can start here, if you want some direction, or just click here and dive right in. It's free forever! What've you got to lose?

#free fiction #writers on tumblr #i made this #keep calm and soldier on #i'm sorry for making demands of your finite attention but you don't have to click or pay anything

[junos-office-drama]

I've kissed three men in the last twenty-four hours, and now one of them is dead, one of them might be a murderer, and one of them might be my salvation.

But which is which, and how do I get out of the city alive?

My name is Severine, and I'm a Catalyst — a person with the rare ability to multiply another's power. For a mage, that's an ability worth killing for.

Which might be exactly what happened. Or maybe I'm just a pawn in a bigger power play, with an end goal I can't yet see. Either way, I'm in mortal danger.

Surrounded by mages who want my power and vampires who want my blood, I need to figure out who I can trust with my life before I end up captured, dead, or worse.

And along the way, I may just discover who I can trust with my heart.

Read Catalyst for free!

Just sharing this because I'm thrilled I was able to cobble together a cover with my very basic editing skills.

[Cover photography credits to Lucas Kapla and Alexander Krivitskiy / permissions via Unsplash License / the cover contains no AI generated elements]

#archive of our own #ao3 link #ao3 #romance #urban fantasy #original fiction #original work #anti ai art #free fiction #book cover

[j-tomalas-grimoire]

ARC'S Welcome to Hell, Hellflowers Book 2

Hi, I’m looking for advanced readers for my M/M alternate history fantasy book. Welcome to Hell. It’s the second book in the Hellflowers Series.

Blurb: Zeno had finally made it to Hell. He had certain expectations how Hell should look like and his citizens to behave, but the endless stream of parties, balls and orgies was not it. Hell is a fairy tale place with beautiful people, magnificent palaces, strange food and a never ending stream of entertainment. But the longer he stays there, under the roof of Lotem Palace undergoing training to become a Seed, the more he wonders. About the beautiful and enigmatic Lord Lotem himself, about the curfew and the fear of the dark, about those elusive beasts roaming the streets and forests as night falls. Hell has secrets, and he’s not the only one who wants to uncover them, but what will happen to Zeno once he uncovers what the pretty surface is hiding?

The ARC’s will be sent out the first week of October. Please contact me or use the sign-up form if you’re interested.

#arc #advanced reader copy #advance review copy #advance reader copy #m/m romance #gay romance #m/m fiction #fantasy books #hellflowers series #free gay romance #free fiction #free book

[tardistogongen]

It's the 10th Anniversary of the small press publishing house I founded, and we're celebrating by giving away a brand new book.

It's a crossover between some of our most beloved characters (Chris Cwej from Docotr Who, Sang Mi from WARSONG, and Lady Aesc from 10,000 Dawns), and also a fresh spot to jump I'm with each of them--written assuming you've never heard of any of them.

So please celebrate out birthday with us and pay no money and read a good story!

#chris cwej #doctor who #WARSONG #Academy 27 #10000 dawns #kalingkata #anniversaries #free fiction