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Asper

Bulwark- by Brit Lunden
“It’s like a primordial soup,” Clay Finnes muttered his hands on his hips.
“A primordial what?” Owen Bishop raised his hangdog face to look at the town sheriff.
“Primordial, ancient, prehistoric…” Clay looked at the deputy’s blank face and finished with, ”old...really, really old.”
“It’s like a primordial soup,” Clay Finnes muttered his hands on his hips.
“A primordial what?” Owen Bishop raised his hangdog face to look at the town sheriff.
“Primordial, ancient, prehistoric…” Clay looked at the deputy’s blank face and finished with, ”old...really, really old.”
Oh Susannah Things that go Bump
The sun peeked through the blinds making a striped pattern across the bottom of Susannah Maya Logan’s comforter on the bed. Susannah opened her eyes and counted five panels of sunshine.
The little brass alarm clock’s larger hand moved onto the twelve, the shorter hand jerked onto the seven, and the tiny hammer started to hit the bell so that the clock shook and trembled as if it was a dancing a jig. Susannah reached over, depressing the button, silencing the bell.
The sun peeked through the blinds making a striped pattern across the bottom of Susannah Maya Logan’s comforter on the bed. Susannah opened her eyes and counted five panels of sunshine.
The little brass alarm clock’s larger hand moved onto the twelve, the shorter hand jerked onto the seven, and the tiny hammer started to hit the bell so that the clock shook and trembled as if it was a dancing a jig. Susannah reached over, depressing the button, silencing the bell.

Luskell walked at twilight on a country road she didn’t know. She wasn’t lost; she was on her way to Deep River. It was the town that was lost, and she had to find it.

And all that work Eliza did for his father, it turned to crap. Because of her father's remarks and his pushy attitude, Eliza had lost interest in studying. Everything she blamed… Eliza blamed it on her dad.


When I was a young child I used to believe that if I no longer dreamt anymore that that would mean my life would be over, for surely only the living dream. But now it seems we carry on dreaming, even after we are deceased; it’s strange how our minds can make us believe that even in death we are still alive...

The village was remarkably quiet for a bright summer’s evening, the scent of burning charcoal from numerous local barbeques hanging in the air.
Okay, she reminded herself, so they weren’t actually hunting ghosts, but all the same the ominous, cheerless house could easily have been haunted.
Darkness Forbidden

Finding Flopsie

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/3...

Weeping Well

I, Joel Shine, don’t even enter into the story myself until after events recorded here.


On a vast grassy plain, two distinct groups of people met. One was comprised of six armed men, whose skin-clad bodies blended well into the golden landscape. The other was a contingent of brightly hued, feather-bedecked warriors, a woman, and their leader – around twenty in all.
From A Good and Fair Trade:
Standing up with a slight groan, the elderly woman reached for a clean towel. While surveying the attic room with a scrutinizing eye, she wiped brick dust from her fingers.
Almost ready, she thought.
Books mentioned in this topic
Weeping Well (other topics)Finding Flopsie (other topics)
Asper (other topics)
Darkness Forbidden (other topics)
The Loves and Sorrows of Effie Farraday -Book 3 (other topics)
More...
Authors mentioned in this topic
Lynn Williams (other topics)Lynn Williams (other topics)
Write the first three lines of your book here.