Saffron awoke not to the sound of terrified cries or clashing blades, but to the pleasant crackling of a low fire. And then there was the smell! Baked fish and eggs on fragrant leaves. It hadn’t handpicked these for vem, but recognized the smell from its day among the
This is a decision I made after very careful consideration, but I will be delisting several romance books. Fluid Bonding is an exception because it was my debut and I've still got a fondness for it. But all of St. Acton and maybe Never Too Much. St. Acton
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Vallens had vemself quite the feast, taking several fastidious bites of a skewered fish, and washing it all down with ver crawfish stew. If not for the little critters, it would’ve been quite appetizing. Ve did prepare a more vegetarian friendly version for Eisbaer, including radishes, carrots, and a
Literally just talking about myself here, which isn't fun because it's gonna affect how I approach future books. Perhaps. I've said for years now that if I had to have a dream job, it would be writing related. I love the idea of spending
Logically speaking, Eisbaer knew they’d only been walking (both ways) for an hour at the most, but she was still relieved to be on the back of Vallens’ motorbike. Her poor paws were dead tired! I really need to work out more... Maybe it was all the downed trees
Foraging for berries and inspecting that tree actually boosted Saffron’s botany level by one, planting it firmly on ten. Ten! Now it would receive extra items while scavenging and toiling in the field. Why hadn’t it tried this before, instead of scouting out toy stores and dodging slavers?
“I can’t believe it even needs to be said, but please stop licking yourself.” Grunting, Saffron lowered its arm, the fur matted with its own saliva. If ve hadn’t said it, Eisbaer would’ve. “It’s just a flesh wound,” it started, but she wasn’t having it.
“Are you sure about this?” Saffron asked, when it was just the two of them. Vallens moved fast, robe drifting on the wind. And Eisbaer was happy to see nothing but ver back; that skeletal makeup (or what she hoped was makeup) creeped her the heck out. And seeing ver
No stranger to disappointment, Vallens always tried to keep ver expectations low. Ve didn’t anticipate Eisbaer actually following through; low levels, or what ve saw as the unambitious class, rarely did. Or worse; they expected the world to cater to their needs and desires, lacking the will to do
Eisbaer was oddly missing for the next two days, a fact that brought Saffron much distress. According to her coordinates, she was still somewhere in the city, just not home. It considered reaching out, but didn’t want to disturb her if she was training. Like it should be… Since
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“It’s not that I’m withholding. I just think it’s too soon, don’t you?” Callie’s long tongue cleaned a streak of aioli sauce from her chin. “Mm, this some good motherfucking sauce. What’d you say this was again?” “Aioli. It’s like mayo, but better.
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While Eisbaer was out power leveling and making connections, Saffron was fighting for its life. The gym could only do so much, and abusing wooden dummies got old fast. After nearly losing a claw to a tough hunk of wood, Saffron called it quits and went in search of more…
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Dread and fear were on the menu today, and while she was in a chipper mood before, that all came tumbling down soon after. Why, oh why, did it lost her contact details? Did she really come off as approachable? Am I the designated speaker of the party? Eisbaer pressed
Books
book 2 of Early Adopter
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As a sanitation worker from a major city, Saffron had so little time to itself in the outside world. All those old fears of humans being replaced with machines were all for naught; not out of concern for worker’s rights, though the union had a big hand in this.
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In another world, Vallens’ typical day revolved around ver cats, work, ver extensive library of trashy low fantasy books, and puttering around in the game. At such a high position, ve only needed to show up a few hours a week, to read and respond to a few emails (or
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After having a fabulous morning, during which Eisbaer found the perfect fabric for Saffron’s cloak, and discounted, to boot, this was the news she came home to? “Way to marsh my mallow,” she said, draping a damp cloth over her eyes. The staff was finished, the cloak halfway there.
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Saffron tapped at its interface, navigating it like a drunken toddler. Now was a good time to adjust the font size on its HUD. The visuals weren’t the issue; it was the damn narrowness of the keyboard that screwed it over. And of course, having an unsuccessful day of
Last Train Home
“Sorrel, is it?” Zelamir leaned against the cane her doctor (and Laken) insisted she use when out and about. They seemed to think she was frail, in constant need of a shoulder to lean on. In reality, she retained some muscle weakness from being bedridden and suffering a nasty back
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“Oh, good taste, Saffy!” The wolf’s ears drooped at the nickname, but it didn’t push back, either. “Thanks,” Saffron said, rubbing the back of its neck. “I knew I wanted something sturdy and long lasting, so this seemed like the best choice of the lot...” Eisbaer awkwardly balanced
Last Train Home
“You feeling alright, Capsule? You're mighty quiet today.” “I'm fine,” they mumbled. “Just distracted.” They'd scoured so many shops already, but none had those elusive ingredients. Cass had tried to lighten the mood with jokes and commentary, but Meike just couldn't match