iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 30/09/2026

Just sneaking in here to actually post something for once before diving back into schoolwork. Help me. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Clara called for Eli’s help, wondering what was taking him so long. Eli motioned for Will to follow him and jogged the rest of the way to the Saloon, stepping through the doors like the sheriff in all the westerns. As if his presence alone would solve everything.

Judging by the way the room stilled and everyone looked up at him, Will had to wonder if it could. Clara knelt by a man, directing him to press a handkerchief into his side as she dug into her bag for whatever tools she needed. The bleeding man grit his teeth in pain but otherwise made no other concession to agony.

“It’s Al.” Another man called out to Eli. He was standing over the wounded man—the Albert of whom Eli spoke earlier, judging by the Union cavalry hat lying next him—preventing anyone from coming near. “Damned Reb stabbed him.” He gestured to the far end of the room, where a wiry fellow, whose pointed features rather reminded Will of a stoat, sat under guard by several of the townsfolk. “Went after Isaiah.” Another gesture, this time to a large black man in the near corner, tucked into the round table by the window. He had something against his eye.

Will’s stomach churned at the smell of booze and blood commingling in the air, but Eli made no sign of noticing it. “Jeb. Isaiah. Grab him. Clara, we’ll take him back to the homestead. Reverend, I’m going to need your gig. Everyone else, stand back. And keep Jeremiah still. He’s done enough damage this evening. We don’t need him doing anything to bring the Marshals down on us. Again.”

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 18/09/2026

Dionysus spends half the novel giving Beren emotional whiplash. His characterization is the one thing I think I got perfectly right in this thing. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Dionysus regarded Beren with something like bemusement. “I believe you truly want safety for this town. But even with that admission, you have not revealed the whole of your desire to me. Why do you hold back?”

“Because someone has to be here to pick up the pieces after you get bored and leave.”

Dionysus was at the door in a blink, staring up at the afternoon sky, a halo of sunlight around him. Beren’s breath caught in her throat, and her fingers twitched. “My dear, I wish it were as simple as my choosing to leave, though why you think I would get bored when you continue to prove so intransigent is beyond me.” He turned and regarded Beren with a cool detachment that twisted her stomach. “Your coven has bargained with a god, Berenice Guiscard, and accepted his gifts. You must now fulfill that bargain between us. Until then, I will remain in Glaucaster.”

“But—” Beren’s throat tightened with dread. “What am I supposed to do?”

“I have told you. Revelry, ecstasy. True worship, though I would settle for the workings of worship sincerely given.” Dionysus smiled suddenly, mad and proud, pointing his walking stick at her. “The Fates themselves make answer when gods and mortals strike deals. And I should not like to see your soul rent by their dreadful cut. I can say only this: you have until the grape vines bud to make your payment. After that, I cannot stop what happens, no matter what I might want.”

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 10/09/2026

Is Anna amazing? Yes. Is she way cooler than everyone else in this novel? Also yes. Does Will adore her almost from the moment they met? Absolutely. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

The woman’s lips thinned. “I’m afraid I can’t answer with any specifics. I can only surmise that an error occurred in our system. Be that as it may, the information we received stated that Ms. Scott would play Elijah Barker and you, Mr. Coombes-Fitzgerald, would be Clara Phillips.”

“You didn’t think it odd a man signed up for a female character?”

The woman blinked, her round eyes widening, thick lashes brushing against the tops of her cheeks with every flutter. “Not particularly, sir. Should we have?”

Will bowed her head to hide her smile. At least the experience wouldn’t be a total flop. In fact, she’d fallen a little in love already.

Mr. Coombes-Fitzgerald’s mouth pinched into a quick frown before he waved his concession and brushed an errant chestnut lock off his forehead. Will wondered if she imagined the hint of chagrin in his expression. “I suppose not.”

Will tried to put herself in the man’s shoes. Years of chastisement at her supposed lack of empathy flashed like distressed phantoms across her mind. She knew how easily a simple mistake could upend her mental equilibrium. Perhaps she should give him a break. “If it helps, Mr. Whittaker believed the homesteader had been cancelled when I showed up to fill out my paperwork. He worried about filling the role so close to the day. So, it was clearly in the computer.”

“No one blames you, Ms. Scott.” The woman smiled at her, revealing a small gap between her front two teeth, almost whimsical in such a steadfast person.

“No. Of course not. You couldn’t have known what occurred when you purchased your package.” Mr. Coombes-Fitzgerald’s voice softened, though Will still heard something in it she couldn’t quite identify. Not that she’d ever been good at reading people. As a child, her parents had held up pictures of faces so she’d understand how they were feeling. And by child, she meant until the end of sixth grade.

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 03/09/2026

Post-Bacchanal hangovers are the worst, even if you are a witch. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Beren shuddered, realizing how cold it was now she’d left the warm embrace of the pile. Even with her mantle, she couldn’t escape the bite of the wind against her skin. She rubbed her torso, vaguely recalling some old advice that it was better for keeping warm, and picked her way among the still-sleeping mob. Even now, without the roar of instruments and the crackling of flames, a symphony of human sounds played over the clearing. Some of the snoring was loud enough to scare away the animals. Beren willed them to remain asleep, to ease from the drunken to the healthful, to pass through their pains and into repose. Just because she felt like shit didn’t mean any of them had to.

Her hand brushed against a rough edge within her dress, and Beren searched her pocket for whatever she’d felt. She pulled out a small card and peered at it. Vaguely recalled slipping it into the dress before heading for the clearing the night before. There had been a plan, hadn’t there? She was meant to be doing something. The sigil on the card was hers. It wasn’t a subtle working. Hadn’t Dionysus told her once her spells lacked refinement? She could see what he meant now. Still, it was effective, and she sensed temperance within its lines. Apparently, she had brought something to deal with the aftermath.

Raising the paper to her mouth, she pressed the sigil against her tongue and let it dissolve.

Sobriety hit her so hard, she missed her next step and nearly crashed head-first into the nearby tree.

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 02/09/2026

The best part of #WIPSnips is realizing you've used the word 'shirt' four times in two sentences... after five rounds of editing. At least it's fixed now. #writingcommunity #writesky

For the first few hours, everything went so smoothly, Will had to concentrate on ignoring the nagging sting of nervous anticipation threatening to derail her purpose. With every step, as her adrenaline faded and the dull ache in her stomach gave way to insistent stabbing, she kept the image of Eli emblazoned in her mind. Her arms burned. Ashley’s pendant chain dug into her neck, rolling through the sweat dripping from her scalp and rubbing the skin raw. She had to resist the urge to tear it off. Everything narrowed to the color of Gramps’ eyes and the thud of her footsteps into the dirt.

She couldn’t afford to worry about Abraham. But she knew the attack was coming.

Beneath her shirt, the pendant flared against her chest. She shrieked and yanked it over her head, tossing it into the dirt. Unbuttoning it far enough to watch an oval blister bloom just above her breasts, she turned a bemused expression to Ashley. “It bit me.” She spread her collar as evidence. “I think it was helping?”

Ashley’s face paled, and he almost dropped the palmful of salt in his hand to reach for her. Only a warning shake of Jacob’s head stopped him, though Will saw the muscles in his jaw flexing. A strange satisfaction, warm and honey-sweet, spread in Will’s stomach at the sight, sliding like steel into her spine.

She clamped down on it before she giggled like an idiot. There was no trusting her emotions at a time like this. Adrenaline was a vicious liar, and she was far too credulous for her own good. Right now, she had to concentrate on getting the job done. Then she could figure out what was going on in her head.

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 01/09/2026

Lots of garden in this WIP, almost none of it remotely edited enough to be shared. This bit's alright, though. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

The coven did all its rituals behind the rambling old mansion they called home. Phoebe’s touch had transformed the once overgrown acreage into a secret paradise, a panoply of sweet smells and bright colors that stretched as far as the eye could see. Where her demesne ended, Mother Nature’s began, mingling in profusion over the back fence before fading into the forests and hills beyond. Beren didn’t know enough about plants to say how it all happened, but if she’d woken up one night to see Phoebe singing and dancing in the garden with helpful woodland animals, she’d have been more annoyed at her interrupted sleep than surprised.

“Charlie told me about your greenhouse. Congrats!” Beren kissed Phoebe’s cheek as she tossed her jacket onto the back of a swing and pulled her hair out of its habitual ponytail. “You live to poison another day.”

Phoebe smirked. “Yes. My grand plan to murder everyone in Glaucaster and reap their souls for Satan has overcome its latest bureaucratic hurdle.” She tossed her chin toward the house. “Emma wanted me to make sure you got something to eat before the ritual starts. She’s upstairs cleansing now.”

“Charlie make it home OK? I tried to buck her up long enough to get to tonight, but those doldrums of hers are mighty. She darling’d me twice.” Beren glanced around the small clearing at the center of the garden, where nothing but a field of purple creeping thyme blanketed the earth. Someone—probably Emma—had already laid everything out on a small folding table, carefully placing every item just so to within the nearest centimeter. “I see we’re taking this one really seriously.”

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 31/08/2026

I used the only instance of chip the food in another snippet, so you get the less delicious chipping of paint. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 28/08/2026

I don't have the word, but I do have the concept, so it works! #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Will collapsed into a chair beside the fireplace back at the homestead, a groan like a deflating balloon squeezing from her lungs. Everything hurt, and in some places, shot the moon into an exhausted numb tingling. She didn’t know how she dredged up the energy to finish circling the city. All signs had pointed to that last rush of adrenaline with Henry being her final hurrah. Whatever happened, she hoped the reckoning would hold off a few more days. Then she could wrap herself in thirty pounds of blankets and lie in the dark for a week, the same four songs on repeat until the thought of them made her want to hurl her speaker into the void.

“We’ve got Henry set up in one of the staff buildings outside the boundary.” Jacob swept his hat off his head and plopped into the chair next to hers with evident enjoyment. “Anna’s setting up some of the other areas for the rest of the people, then she’s going to go up and fetch them back.”

“I should put my shoes back on, then.” Will peered with bleary-eyed wariness at the boots she’d dropped beside her. Things were starting to blur together. “When does she want to do this?”

“Oh.” Jacob grimaced and ran a hand through his hair. He really did have spectacular locks. Damn him. “Uh. She said you’re not allowed to help. Her exact words were ’you put her in bed and tie her down if you have to’.” He gripped his hat so tight, the felt creased. “You’re not going to make me tie you down, are you?”

Will mustered the energy to shoot him a wry look. She didn’t know what was worse: the thought of someone touching her long enough to fasten the knots or the bonds rubbing her skin. Either one was a nightmare. “I’d bite anyone who tried.”

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 26/08/2026

This draft is a mess, but at least there's enough good bits to mine for #WIPSnips! #writingcommunity #writesky

Emma guided Beren to a nearby table. “Cass said there was something about his aura that was very changeable. Maybe that’s what you sensed earlier. You were already shocked just seeing him after weeks of nothing, and he was a bit uncanny.”

Beren shook her head. “No. That’s not it. I can feel it. I can feel that something’s wrong with him. He’s dangerous.” The image of him wrapped in slithering serpents burned in her mind’s eye. What were snakes a symbol of again? Gods, what weren’t they a symbol of?

“You know I’m always on your side, but are you sure that isn’t just your default reaction to being surprised?”

That was entirely too reasonable a question for Beren’s liking. She didn’t want to think she was overreacting. That was too much like admitting she’d been irrational, and that simply wouldn’t do. But had anything really happened to warrant this sort of visceral distrust she had in him? He’d been a touch forward for her taste, but maybe that had been his way of dealing with the discomfort of meeting her. After all, she was a complete stranger who’d drawn pictures of him without ever seeing his face. He had a right to be uncomfortable. And Beren was no stranger to hiding her discomfort behind a broad smile and heightened confidence.

Maybe she was overthinking it.

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 25/08/2026

Time is a soup, and I was meant to try querying this in Sept, but did I do enough edits? Heck if I know. I just realized Sept is, in fact, next week. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

The door to the vault room slammed shut as soon as Will crossed the threshold. “Fuck!” She spun, tripping over her own feet and falling into Henry, who’d entered just before her. “Sorry. Shit. Did someone do that?”

“No. No one did that.” Jacob’s voice trembled as he backed toward the wall, dragging his feet against the floor with soft scrapes. “No one touched the door. I was looking at it. Can we open it? Is it locked?”

Henry shot Jacob a look of disgust and reached for the doorknob, twisting it. “Of course we can open it. It’s a —” The door didn’t budge. He turned the knob the other way, tugging with his considerable weight. “Hey!” He pounded the door with his fist, thudding wallops, one after another. “Are you guys holding the fucking door closed?”

“No one’s touching the door, Henry!” Anna’s voice sounded too far away to be right on the other side, but she’d been next to Will the entire time. “We thought you were messing with us.”

A squeak broke into the commotion, and for a moment, Will searched the mostly empty room for the source until realizing it’d come from her. She pressed herself against the wall, closing her eyes to focus on her breathing. The last thing she wanted was to have a panic attack in the middle of a charged situation. What could she do? How could she help? She reached for Jacob’s hand. He took it and squeezed, though his trembling left Will wondering which of them needed more support. “Abraham, I think that’s you. If you want to talk, you have to open the door, please. The people in the hallway are the ones who have the equipment.”

The door clicked open as soon as she finished speaking.

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 20/08/2026

The only use of the word 'footprint' I have in any WIP. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Anna’s lips twisted with skepticism. “I’ve known you for a little over a week, and I’m ready to lay money down on that being the stupidest, most self-defeating bullshit to ever come out of your mouth in the thirty-something years you’ve been alive.” Her voice hardened, crystallizing at the edges. She sounded like a disappointed schoolmarm. Will hunched in shame at the tone. “Your concern about whether you’ve romanticized one another on the back of all this? That makes sense. The idea that your neurodivergence somehow disqualifies you as a potential partner? That’s self-sabotage. The other shit doesn’t even bear mentioning.”

Will stared at her hands. It was hard to argue her point without compromising Ashley’s secrets. “It’s thousands of miles. Things are hard enough at the start before adding continents.”

“So he swoops in on a helicopter and whisks you off on romantic vacations in Italy whenever you want pasta!” A touch of melancholy creeped into Anna’s voice, and she sighed, her shoulders heaving. “Or Paris.” She glanced over at Will. “Or Colonial Williamsburg. Whatever your nerdy little heart desires.”

“And what's that carbon footprint like?”

“Ah. It’s your concern for the planet that’s at the center of this. Right.” Anna rolled her eyes and halted as they reached the stable yard. “You and Ashley will wait together. You will not go into any buildings. And you will let go of the nonsensical idea that you’re just the poor girl not worthy of the rich dude. You’re not Helena, and he sure as shit isn’t Bertram.” She leapt off her mount, boots squishing into the mud with a loud, unavoidable squelch. “Ugh. It’s going to take forever to clean these things.”

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 18/08/2026

Two uses of today's word to choose from as Will asks a ghost for answers. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

“I’ve got the recorder! Here, take it. Ask some questions.” The person attached to the voice thrust a recorder into Will’s hands, but she had no idea who it was. Before she could take a breath, the entire group funneled into the room, buzzing like teenagers after discovering coffee. Two dozen pairs of owlish eyes, eager and bright, blinked at her, a strange pantomime of Kafkaesque proportions.

Will licked her lips, willing her fingers to stop trembling and press the record button. She missed it the first couple of times. “Uh…” She gulped, swallowing hard against a lump in her throat. The spirit everyone wanted her to talk to had tried to lock them into a room. Did she really want to try this? “Uh hello. To whom are we speaking?”

Someone scoffed. “We know who we’re talking to.”

“Not necessarily,” a woman answered, voice deep and rich. Will thought it belonged to the woman playing preacher’s wife. She was a quiet one, always hovering toward the back, watching and judging. “We’re assuming, but that doesn’t mean we’re right.”

Stopping and rewinding the recorder, Will struggled to hold it out for the others. She knew something had spoken. Given some horrible reply. The back of her hands seemed almost to crackle with electricity, and the hair on her arms stood upright beneath the fabric of her shirt. Nerves tingled in places she didn’t realize had fear receptors. She licked her lips again, suddenly aware of the sticky thirst coating her tongue. Her thumb refused to press the button. “I—”

Ashley took the recorder from her fingers with a soft smile of reassurance. “I got it.” He held it up for everyone to hear and pressed play.

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 15/08/2026

I don't write spicy scenes, and I don't have the word spicy in anything, so we're going with jalapeno. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Ashley shook his head. "No, that can't be it. It must be something stronger. Do you know anything about your family history? Any psychics or sensitives?"

"I don't, sorry." Will tried to push herself off the ground, but her arms buckled and she slammed her head against the wall. "Shit! The family's never been much into its past. I'm the weirdo who likes that stuff." She rubbed her head and let Ashley help her up. He practically had to carry her to the table, revealing way too many muscles for her well-being. It wasn't fair that he was in such good shape. Will guessed being super rich gave people an advantage in these matters. "What fancy guy sport do you play?"

"Polo," Ashley answered absently as he placed her in a chair and Anna pressed the chips into her hands. "Why?"

"I knew it was something like that. People like you don't play regular sports." Will shoveled chips into her mouth, mind loopy like she'd had too much to drink too fast. "Rich, I mean. Not British. You guys have soccer, too."

"I'm going to give you a pass on that because you had all your energy sapped in a ghost encounter, otherwise I'd have had your colonial arse for deigning to call it anything other than football." Ashley plopped into the chair next to her and smiled. "How brilliant was that, though? I don't care if you took my part; having you here for this has made everything worth it."

"Thanks, I guess." Will glanced at Anna, who shrugged. "But are you sure there aren't any nachos? Because I'd kill for some plastic cheese and greasy beef. And extra jalapeños."

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 14/08/2026

I may have posted this one before, so sorry. But it's the only one in this WIP that isn't spoilery. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

The next morning dawned hot and blazing, not so much as a candy floss cloud to block the sun. And the air stood stiller than a cemetery, the wind too lethargic to bother stirring itself. Insects chirped and buzzed, and the water pump dripped a slow, steady thud into the earth below. What greenery survived grasped at the moisture, pleading with the sky to feed it. Judging by the haze on the horizon, they were unlikely to receive their wish.

Will emptied her cup along the edge of the fence, feeling rather like she was starving for sustenance herself. She was bone deep weary after so many days in the West, limbs heavy and lungs wheezing for lack of surcease. Another day playing antennae to the ghosts of Rapture might break her.

“I have it on reliable word that it’s meant to rain in the next couple of days,” Anna said, coming up beside Will and using a cupped hand to block the sun from her eyes. Will just managed to stifle her startled yelp. Everything was thin and jumpy, ropes frayed, synapses dull. “Benji’s shoulder’s aching, and that always means a change in the weather. We’ll have to hope it doesn’t knock out the power, or we’ll really be living in the Wild West.”

“Nothing like reading by candlelight to make your local eye doctor happy.” Will pumped fresh water into her cup, letting the excess rain down on the soil like a beneficent goddess. She dipped her fingers into the cup and flicked the water onto her face, enjoying some earth-chilled relief against her burning skin. Even with her hat, there was no escape.

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 13/08/2026

This WIP is mostly psychological, but it wouldn't be me if I didn't attempt to recreate a mystery religion from the bits of archaeological evidence we have. Really, it wouldn't. I swear. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Her limbs twitched with exhaustion, and her hands were cracked and bleeding with the effort of keeping herself standing, by the time she found the cave. Her legs buckled at the sight, relief robbing her of the last of her strength. She hunched into herself, shoulders heaving and head swimming. Her lungs threatened to rebel, squeezing in her chest, throat tightening against the assault. Her eyes burned with sweat and strain, struggling to shape shadows into form. A panoply of hurts thrummed, tugging at the tread of her self-control, yanking it taut. Any more running, and she’d probably just give up and let the mob have her.
Slowly, biting her tongue against the groan rumbling in her chest, she forced herself to her feet and inched into the cave, ears straining to catch any sound within. Nothing. She sniffed, searching for the telltale musk of animal, but nothing came to her. As she carefully placed one foot in front of the other, sliding more than stepping forward, her hand pressed to the cave wall for support, she allowed herself to relax ever so slightly. When she judged herself far enough into the darkness that no one could see her from the mouth, she gingerly lowered herself to the earth, wincing at the varying protestations of her myriad wounds.
She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them, trying to still her terrified shaking and get her breathing under control. Her cheek throbbed, so she reached up to touch it, pulling her fingers away when they pressed into warm wetness. She wiped it on her dress, letting her hand trail down her front because she couldn’t see to know where the fabric ended and the ground began. There was nothingness before her, an ink black wall she could not penetrate no matter how hard she tried. And in her ears, there was only the staccato beat of her own heart and the rasp of her breath.

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 12/08/2026

This one is more vibes than the specific word. Beren is a bit all over the place when it comes to her feelings about Dionysus, but she is 100% sure he's dangerous. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

“Edith, this entire town listens to you. That’s why you and I have such problems, remember?” Beren wanted nothing so much as to shove Edith’s nose in the fact that her entire modus operandi had been to make life hard for anyone not allied with her very specific morals. A fight she’d nearly always won. “You can’t expect a whole town defer to you all the time.”

Edith lit another match, and Beren charged forward before the woman could light anything else on fire. The one on the sideboard hadn’t spread yet, so instead of handing Edith the glass of water, Beren used it to douse the flame before everything got worse. Which earned her a glare from wild-eyed nemesis. “This damned town. It’s always about the damn town! Edith, do this. Edith, face that. Edith, dear, be a love and do what your pa tells you. My whole damn life!”

Beren slowly reached over and took the matches from Edith, then the alcohol. “Why don’t you tell me about it on the couch?”

“Why do you care?”

Beren shrugged. “Well, frankly, I’m not entirely sure. You’re a world class bitch that has made mine and my friends’ lives way harder than they needed to be the last few years, but I feel like walking away when someone’s clearly having a meltdown is not the right thing to do. Especially when that meltdown involves fire and a neighborhood of mostly wooden houses.”

Edith reached the wine bottle she’d left on the dining table and took a swig before trudging toward the entrance hall and collapsing on a sofa. Beren winced. This was exactly what she meant when she said Dionysus was dangerous. Even if he didn’t intend for anyone to get hurt, a god could rip the heart out of a person and call it kindness because it was broken. How was humanity, with its febrile mortality, supposed to revel alongside a divine being? It would destroy them just to try.

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 11/08/2026

There is some stuff I trimmed out of this to make it work as one snippet, but Eli and Clara are amazing together, and part of me wishes the story had allowed me to use Clara more. Alas, Abraham didn't hate her. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

“Elijah Barker, did you walk all the way here? You’re covered in muck!” Clara Phillips was one of the most attractive women Will had ever seen. There was nothing particularly striking about any individual feature, though each was well-regulated and properly placed, nor about the sum of her parts. But her voice rolled like honeyed tea over Will’s ears, and the power of her movements thrummed in the air. It was probably what Mark Antony felt when Cleopatra walked into a room. A woman made irresistible by the weight of her presence.
No wonder Eli fell so hard.
“How the hell do you keep turning this woman down when she comes for you every year, you idiot man?” Will asked Eli, still not sure if he was ignoring her or if she was in a memory. She hoped she wasn't staring at nothing while Anna fretted and Ashley moped. Jacob would be fine, she thought, with the trademark autism abilities they shared. She hoped she hadn't put them to the test.
Eli took Clara’s hand and kissed the back of it. “I did. Wanted to collect some of these.” His hand appeared from behind his back, and Will recognized the wildflowers as the ones growing along the fence of the homestead. “Best spot for ‘em is the path between the homestead and the town.”
Clara planted her hands on her hips and fixed a laser stare at Eli. “And you muddied up your good boots just for some flowers? Of all the ridiculous things.”
Eli took Clara’s arm into his. “You look beautiful this evening, darling.”
Clara chuckled, a throaty confection that in later decades would have made her career in Hollywood. “And I don’t suppose you mean the implication that I don’t look beautiful except when I’m in my best, Mr. Barker?”
Eli scoffed, and Will got the sense they had played similar games before. “You're beautiful every time I see you, my dear. I’m just an old fool who can’t seem to remember how breathtaking you are between meetings. If you would only consent to stay with me always, this could be remedied.”
Will whistled. “Smooth.”

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 10/08/2026

Will goes on a quest through the past with her ancestor. Fun times ensue. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

The town was wrong. It didn’t have the angles she expected, or the doors in the right places. And it was, somehow, which she would have thought impossible before now, dirtier. Grimier. Like a thick layer of grunge and human struggle coated every nook and cranny. Not to mention the smell, which she could only attribute to the lack of indoor plumbing and underwhelming knowledge of germ theory. But as she followed Eli, feet sinking into what she hoped was only mud, Will had to acknowledge that this was the true Rapture Ridge.

This is what Abraham Whittaker had wrought.

It was almost sunset, and Will was surprised how dark it was, though she shouldn’t have been. This was a place in which fire illuminated the night, where gas lamps hadn’t displaced oil and candle. A world in which it would be easy to hide, to obfuscate and beguile into danger.

A world she had to admit she wouldn’t survive for long. And that was before the absurd medical treatments.

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 09/08/2026

Not me making this and only then noticing the whole ass extraneous word. Ugh! Charlie is awesome. I love her. She's the Coven's trans baddy. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Charlie frowned, and Beren wondered how long she’d been drinking. It was obvious in the wobble of her heels as they hit the floor, the fluid movements of one not-quite-sober but almost able to hide it. “Can’t I come in with you? You know I love to watch you work, darling!”

“If you promise not to call me ‘darling’ again, fine. You can help keep him calm.” Beren held the door open and rolled her eyes as Charlie sauntered in very much as if she were wearing a feathered robe and the police were about to interrogate her. She'd always had a flair for drama. But if there ever was a time she should be allowed to indulge, it was now.

So long as it didn’t get in the way of Beren doing her work.

“Oh, a man. Hello, dearie!”

The client’s eyes widened to the point that Beren was worried they were going to pop out of his head. “Hello.”

Beren sighed and settled back onto her stool. “Just ignore her, please. Especially if you’ve seen her before in any capacity related to the theater. Just sit back and close your eyes. I need you to be completely relaxed for this next part or else the spell won’t take.” She raised her eyebrows at Charlie, only looking back at her client when the woman nodded. “You okay with some outside interference, kid? It’ll help with the process.”

Dark eyes bounced from woman to woman so fast, Beren half-expected them to start grunting like professional tennis players. “Is… is she a witch, too?”

“I’m an empath, dear. And I mean that in the real sense of the word, unlike those who wave crystals and make their psychological problems everyone else's. If you’ll allow me.”

0225

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 08/08/2026

Beren has to do some weird shit in this novel. Some weird, weird shit. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Beren couldn’t have told anyone how long the frenzy lasted. Nothing so mortal as time dared infect this business of gods and penitents. It was only when the soft, lilting melody of the coven’s spell sounded that Beren realized the deed was done. She took a deep breath and shook like a wet dog, ridding herself of whatever incandescent barbarity still clung to her flesh. Exhaustion skulked in the shadows at the edge of her mind, a kind of horrified lassitude leaving her spongy and not quite in control of her own movements. She could only just resist the soporific call of oblivion, a pied piper of sleep playing its lullaby over the clearing. Only the knowledge that she hadn’t fulfilled her duty kept her standing.

The others, the god killers of Glaucaster, were not so burdened. They slumped to the earth, bloodstained and sated on the flesh of their lord, and slept in a pile of flesh, the will of the coven too much to resist. It would be a piece of work to get them cleaned up and in working order when all this was over, but Beren knew it wasn’t hers to do. After what she had given them, she wouldn’t stir for their wellbeing again. Only the knowledge that it would shatter them allowed her to care for their memories at all.

2244

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 07/08/2026

Ashley has bad timing, here, but Will also has a lot of weird rules about how emotions are supposed to work. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Will’s heart thudded in her ears and melted into her stomach. She couldn’t quite tell which reaction was more powerful: the excited little girl ready to swoon into a prince’s arms, or the terrified adult who couldn’t believe this was happening. What was she supposed to do? God, she wanted to throw herself into his arms. But that wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. She had so much wrong with her that he hadn’t learned about. So many broken, misfiring synapses he hadn’t been forced to experience.

How could anyone fall in love in a week? Things just didn't work that way. There were steps. Rules. Milestones that couldn’t be ignored because a thousand labyrinthine emotions felt too much like romantic butterflies. And what about Elizabeth? He couldn’t even hear her name without freaking out. This was just a broken heart confusing a crush with the real thing.

A thread stretched between them, palpable as the warmth of the fire against her skin. A thin, wavering connection bolstered by exciting events and forced proximity. Will had never been to sleepaway camp, but she thought it was like those intense, lightning-in-a-bottle flashes born of summer nights and secret handshakes. For children, resilient and teeming with possibilities, such fairy-tale bonds could be cast aside and revived as required. For Will, they were a seed that demanded careful tending or the thread would snap.

What Ashley wanted—what he thought he wanted—would take whatever tendril had blossomed between them and drown it in feelings it wasn’t prepared to handle.

0315

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 04/08/2026

Will goes through a lot of shit in this book, but the one time that nearly breaks her doesn't involve ghosts at all. Mostly. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Ashley joined her, sitting close enough their thighs touched. He didn’t have a blanket, but his body didn't quiver like a terrified mouse. Perhaps it wasn’t that cold, and she was so far gone, she couldn’t control her limbs anymore. He threw his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, letting her head rest against his shoulder. It was uncomfortable, but she didn’t move. At least the discomfort reminded her that she was still there.

That the world was real, and she was in it.

An argument broke out eventually, when the silence became aggressive. Some wanted to leave. Anna said they could. She would call someone to take them back to the city. They wanted their money back. Anna consoled them, saying she would see what she could do, though Will knew the contract they’d all signed said it was too late for that. They all needed to go back to their rooms for now, and she would make sure everyone got some dry clothing, a hot beverage, and something sweet to eat. Some of them didn’t want to go back to their rooms, and she talked them down, too. One or two asked if a spirit had done it. The spirit that had attacked Will. Will tensed, and Ashley pulled her closer to him, tucking her blanket around her like a cocoon. Anna told them it was a heart attack.

She never mentioned Abraham.

Jacob came in at one point, soaked to the bone and carrying rain gear for the entire group in a large box that looked far too heavy for his skinny limbs to lift. He’d volunteered to help the staff, Will remembered, the thought bubbling up through the morass of shock and numb disbelief. Not everyone had the luxury of doing nothing, taking up space like an overgrown house plant. Will curled further into Ashley. She just wanted to go to bed.

0236

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 03/08/2026

Nothing like being the only one in the Coven prone to hangovers. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

“We have a Reno Sweeney morning!” Emma greeted Beren as she came down the stairs the next day, still smelling of lavender and honey wine, head pounding. They’d had three bottles of the stuff between them, taking it in turns to pour for one another and riding the high of their magic until the moon left the sky and the stars blurred. “So you know we did well.”

“Wonderful. I’m thrilled for all of you.” Beren groaned. She didn’t drink much these days, so the occasions she actually gave in and had too much, she always got the worst of it. “I feel like crap warmed over, so if it could be a coffee morning, I’d feel like that’s a success.” She rubbed her eyes, trying to dredge up some charitable feelings for her friends and failing entirely. “At least Alex is opening the shop for me today. I don’t trust myself to do anything for a while.”

Emma put a mug off coffee—light and sweet—in front of Beren on the table, followed by a couple of tablets and a small glass of something green. “Phoebe said to drink this with the painkiller and you’ll be right as rain in half an hour. And you know Phoebe’s never wrong about these things.”

Beren waved Emma away and breathed in the scent of liquid ambrosia, letting the steam take her on a journey toward the land of the living. She wanted to dunk her face into it, but the cup wasn’t wide enough—and a hospital visit didn’t appeal—so she contented herself with taking a few, life-affirming sips and sighing with contentment. “Perfection.”

0287

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 02/08/2026

Didn't have 'thorn', so I used 'barb' instead. I admit, this aspect of the novel needs editing. Joys of a first draft, eh? #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

“He processes better while doing, trust me.”

Emma cracked a small smile. “I know how that feels. And what about you? I know waking up this morning would have been triggering.”

Beren grimaced as the memory of waking up half naked, legs spread and body aching crashed into her like a charging cavalry. She gripped the chair against the slap of panic against her sternum, echoes of pain snaking between her thighs and into her most private places. She’d fought it since waking, choosing to forge ahead with her plans with the reminder that she abandoned those places along with the person who’d betrayed her. Why had it been Emma’s soft voice, her consoling wishes that had awoken the terror? “I—” Beren pressed her fingers into the labyrinthian curves of her protection sigil, taking comfort from the energy buzzing there. The tide retreated, panic picking up its barbs and crawling back into its crater in her heart, a ragged path of destruction in its wake. “Our pasts don’t seem to want to leave us alone today.”

0204

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 01/08/2026

You ever hugged a ghost so hard he becomes practically corporeal? #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

A sensation like TV static spread along her chest and arms. “Well now, that’s never happened.” The arms disappeared, taking the strange feeling with them and leaving warm air in their wake.

Will opened her eyes and jumped back, cracking her head against the headboard hard enough, her spine crackled in protest. “Huh?” She hoped her face was more eloquent than her throat was capable of being. Certainly, nothing coherent came to mind.

A person sat next to her where no one had been before. A person who looked almost too much like he’d be Wyatt Earp’s huckleberry. And not the slightest bit ephemeral or fuzzy around the edges. Anyone walking in would think two flesh-and-blood, living people sat together on the bed, having a conversation. “I ain’t been this solid since 1924.”

Will rubbed the back of her head in a bid to calm the throbbing bite of angry nerves. She eyed her suddenly corporal companion, refusing to look away and chance shattering the strange reality unfolding before her. Should she believe what her eyes told her? Or was this just the latest in Abraham’s long string of obfuscations designed to break her apart?

“What the hell?”

0214

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 31/07/2026

Will is having a real bad time here, all because some dead dude just can't let go and move on. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Searing pain, like hot irons, trailed down her sides, but she refused to move. If she stayed curled up, maybe she would be safe until her friends could break her out. Her tears soaked her sleeves, fresh heat against already scalded skin. Her world shrunk into a symphony of agonies. What felt like an elephant slammed into her brain, each throb a lightning bolt in the inky blackness behind her eyes. Her heart pounded so hard, it wouldn’t have shocked her at all if it burst, dropping her into Abraham’s prison like the other lost souls of this place. Something dear for something dear. A legacy for a legacy.

It took a moment, but Will realized someone was shouting. And the room filled with thudding, metal rattling against metal.

Desperately sucking in air through her ragged throat and into her burning lungs, she begged for help. Instead, arctic fingers dug into her back and twisted her spine, hoarfrost agony making a mockery of her free will. Her body flailed, muscles clenching and releasing in an unnatural rhythm as she played marionette to a vengeful spirit. Nothing remained but pain. No room for fear.

A warm breeze danced along her cheek, a familial caress, a father’s hand across an overwarm forehead. Her muscles loosened, answering her plea for stillness. She groaned, her sudden release like a snapping rubber band. Everything ached, but nothing burned. And her heart, threatening collapse, finally began to slow.

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 30/07/2026

Beren has a bit of a complex about being prepared for everything, but that's hard to do when a god shows up claiming you summoned him. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Beren hated that she had to worry again. And reveled in it, too, if she were being honest with herself. She liked being right even as she hated what it meant. She’d known this would turn into insanity.

But what else would it bring? And what would he expect from them? Beren knew enough to know that gods weren’t benevolent for nothing. There was always a gift to be made, a sacrifice to be given. She had let herself become complacent, delighting in the ease of her magic and the joy of those she loved. But their visitor was dangerous, like a burning flame—or too much of a good time.

He could drown them in joy, turn it to ash in their mouths.

“I’ve been doing some reading. Trying to convince myself I was overreacting because, hell, hasn’t it been fine? Nothing’s gone crazy. It’s settled. But… wasn’t Dionysus the one who gave Midas his touch?”

Phoebe’s brows dipped in bemusement even as she nodded. “Yeah. But we didn’t ask anything of him.”

“He certainly seems to think we summoned him. And he’s not known for being the most stable of gods. He might take something as a slight and we’re all doomed.” Beren rubbed her face, her mind running through a thousand, ever worsening scenarios. She should never have let herself relax. It was when she got comfortable that horrible things happened.

1255

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 30/07/2026

30. I don't know if it's the favorite thing I've *ever* written, because I've been writing a long time, but this is my favorite bit of scene setting I've done in a while. #SummerOfStories #writingcommunity #writesky

The Glaucaster Business Council met in a building that made Brutalism look kind. It had the sort of 1970s office complex charm that had not and would never turn the corner to chic, choosing rather to actively make everyone wish they could pluck out their eyes and marry their own mother. Everyone except Edith Wainwright, who thrived on the flickering fluorescent bulbs and cardboard ceiling tiles. The dredged-up memories of school-aged misery. Everyone was always miserable, their feet stuck to ancient carpet Beren was pretty sure had once been green but had since committed seppuku out of shame, the beleaguered groaning of the air conditioning setting their teeth on edge. No wonder Edith loved it. She could live out her Nurse Rached dreams on them all, controlling and ominous in the soul sucking environs of Meeting Room C.

0100

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 29/07/2026

Will is visiting her ancestor's memories and doing her best to drive him crazy with her color commentary. Or just trying to cope. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Eli shook his head. “He’d never give it back. We’d have to steal it from him, and he keeps it all in a bloody great vault up at the mansion. I shouldn’t wonder if he tries to swim in it.”

“It would hurt if he tried,” Will muttered, picturing Scrooge McDuck diving into a pile of money. “But maybe that’s a good thing.” She caught Eli’s unamused glance from the other side of the room and gave him a grin. “Still here, grandpappy! So, we’re assembling the Fellowship of the Silver! So far this is going along with what the stories said they would. Clara helps Al, the cowboys offer to help, and y’all decide to steal the silver. Presumably by digging a gigantic hole beneath it.”

“Jeb was a sapper in the war,” Isaiah said, looking over his shoulder at his fellow. “And I’ve dug my fair share of ditches. More than, to speak the God’s honest truth. I didn't plan on doing it again, but I never swore an oath, so I suppose we could, between us, make us a fairly decent tunnel. And Al did some surveying before coming out here. Could get a decent lay of things once he’s recovered. If you wanted to steal it.”

“Oh, it’s not the Fellowship of the Silver. It’s Barker’s Five.” Will crossed the room to plant herself in front of the fire, sitting at Clara’s feet and half wishing the others could see her. Not that she’d be able to offer anything useful. But it was getting a little old watching everyone else talk and plan without doing something. It was only a sample of what the ghosts had been stuck in for over a century, but it was more than enough for her. “We’re going to rob the vault. Oh, it was right there. The reference was right there, and I missed it.”

0276

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 28/07/2026

I did it! Rei and Thadis. Thadis would often also be wearing a mask, but that would defeat the purpose, I think.

A picrew-style picture of a warm-undertoned white woman with long, wavy black hair and dark brown, nearly black eyes. She is, besides the hair, somewhat androgynous, and might pass for a young man if she cut said hair. There are two small braids, one on either side of her head, and a lock of hair over one eye. She is wearing a black, high collared shirt, though the picture doesn't show anything below the shoulders, with a ring and loops holding the collar together. One hand is rubbing her chin. In real life, she would be pretty but not entirely remarkable.

A picrew-style picture of a light gray-skinned man with eyes with white irises and black sclera, short white hair, and pointed chin. His features are even and plainer than someone would expect from a god. He is wearing a white hood, the ends of which are wrapped around his shoulders. There are golden stars, and the background is gray with a black circle.

120

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 28/07/2026

Charlie gets the short end of the stick a bit with Dionysus, so at least she gets to troll the heck out of Beren. I just really wanted this friend group to feel like genuine best friends. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Cass clasped her hands together in supplication. “Please, stop that conversation right there. Let’s all congratulate Beren for getting the stick out of her ass and loosening up for once. But we’ve got work to do.”

Charlie shrugged and lifted her glass to her lips. “Sure. But, at some point, we’ll have to discuss more adequate sound barriers between the attic and the rest of the house.”

Beren choked on her coffee, just managing to avoid spitting it up all over the table. She shot a shocked expression Charlie’s way, only to be met by a wry smile and a sparkling pair of dark eyes intent on wringing all the delicious mortification out of the situation as possible. As she gained control of her breathing, assisted by a well-placed thwack to the center of her back from Emma, Beren flicked Charlie off. “You bitch. You’re enjoying this.”

“Not as much as you did, clearly.” Charlie’s laugh inched into a cackle. “Come on, Bear. You’ve been telling all of us for years there was nothing between you and Alex. You’ve got to let us have some fun now you’ve proven us all right. The savage bull wears the yoke at last.”

“Don’t paraphrase Shakespeare at me.”

0255

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 26/07/2026

Just before this snippet is maybe my favorite bit in the entire WIP, but I didn't have enough space to include it. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Beren stood outside the door, staring at the doorknob, and wondered what Edith had in store for her today. What codicil she would lob or appeal to the children hurl into the space like a grenade, not minding any collateral damage so long as it got its mark. It was bad enough Phoebe had been up the entire night, pleading with the garden in desperate tones that had yanked Beren awake because she was the only one dumb enough to keep her windows open this time of year. Bad enough she’d had to pull an exhausted Emma from her bed to get Phoebe back inside, leaving both to hunch over cups of tea as the sun rose and world stirred. Now she had to face down this month’s test of patience with no resources other than whatever moxie she could dredge up from the pit of her soul.

“God, I’m being dramatic.” Beren took a deep breath and shoved away the maudlin thoughts like treacle in her brain. “Just go in. You’ll get voted down again. Edith will say awful things about the direction of the festival and the number of hooligans in the street, and you can go home to your bed. That’s all you’ve got to do.”

The door opened and jazz poured out into the hallway. Beren paused, glued to her spot. Edith didn’t reject jazz in its entirety, so long as it wouldn’t sound out of place in an elevator or hotel lobby. But this? This unfettered melody cascading in wild defiance of form? This would have set her skin aflame.

Dionysus had infected the Grundys.

0234

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 25/07/2026

Beren may or may not live in the room I wish I had growing up. I don't self-insert characters, but I do, on occasion, insert a place I wanted for myself. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Beren took a bite of the cake to prove Emma’s gesture was appreciated before tromping up the stairs to the attic. She liked living at the top of the house, where the breezes were cooler and she didn’t have to listen to the people above her. The roof lines were wonky, zigzagging from just inches above her head to almost double her height, and she’d had to settle for the smallest bathroom, but it was just what she needed. And it meant she got the whole floor to herself, with no one likely to barge in or wake her in the morning. Only Charlie had the same privilege, and she’d taken the basement—renovated in an Alphonse Mucha dream—for the pleasure. For herself, Beren preferred dark wood and moody walls, decorated like a time traveling art thief’s lair.

Her bed took up the entirety of one alcove. She’d had it built in when they were renovating the house. It wasn’t particularly luxurious in the way some people expected, using the window as a headboard and the walls on either side painted in constellations—she’d done that herself over a weekend—but it was, as far as she was concerned, the most comfortable thing in creation. Like sleeping on clouds—if clouds had back support build in. Most nights, she fell in face first as soon as she got the chance and leaving in the morning was a daily battle with gravity she only just won. All she wanted to do now was crash, wrapping her blankets around her in a cocoon of sensory perfection.

Instead, once she’d finished her sandwiches, she grudgingly abandoned her haven and crossed to her dresser, where a small copper bowl stood, half-filled with cool water and sprigs of lavender, a monogrammed towel—Emma’s doing, in her meticulous little stitches that gave Beren a headache just considering replicating—laid across it. Stripping down to her underwear, ignoring the aches like overzealous exes along her back, she set about cleansing herself, avoiding her face until after she'd given it a good scrubbing with soap to get the makeup off.

1214

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 24/07/2026

Oh no. My poor, little demisexual autistic girl is both overwhelmed and pulling a Meg in Hercules. She also has to be bait for an evil ghost, though, so it's probably earned. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Will shook her head, though she couldn't have told anyone if it was a yes or no. Her heart trilled, effervescent sparks setting her soul aglow. She met Ashley’s eye and found herself—entirely without meaning to—sinking into his gaze. Her thoughts stilled. Her breath lengthened. The thousand prickling anxieties that formed her unwelcome entourage fell away one by one. She floated in the elusive calm behind his eyes, silent and still. There were no dangers. No worries. Just warmth, swaddling her in safety.

Will tore her eyes away, leaping head-first into mental cacophony rather than lose herself in him. She couldn’t do this. It wasn’t fair. Things weren’t supposed to work this way. “I don’t know,” she said, not meaning to say anything and glad it worked as a response to Jacob’s question. “It’s too much.”

“Will, you have to be sure about what you’re offering to do.” Anna had, at some point, moved from her chair to mirror their earlier position. She rested her hand on Will’s shoulder. “I understand you want to do the right thing, but you can’t go in just because you think it’s what you’re expected to do.”

“That’s not it.” Will shot Anna what she hoped was a meaningful look, darting a single glance at Ashley before thinning her lips. Anna nodded in understanding and did Will the favor of saying nothing, instead squeezing her arm. “It has to be me.”

0224

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 23/07/2026

Let's just say Alex would not be having a good time if Beren weren't there. Not only is she Dionysus' favorite human in town, she's a damn good witch. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Dionysus’s cheek twitched and he swayed in place like Alex had landed a physical blow. And maybe to an idea made manifest, he had. Beren only had a moment, a single tick of a clock, to recall how much Dionysus hated being at the whim of his various identities before the shadows around him coalesced and the air froze.

“Alex, run!” Beren slid her foot into the last line of her spell and took off into the forest. Not even a heartbeat later, Alex was beside her, his easy lope far less ungainly than her headlong dash. “Okay, rule one, don’t taunt the god. They tend not to like that.”

“I’ve surmised that much.” Alex took the lead as they dove into the forest, carefully following the path so they didn’t end up wrenching a joint in their bid for escape. He didn’t even seem to care about the snakes anymore. “Apologies. I just didn’t much care for watching you… not be yourself.”

Beren didn’t reply, caught as she was between relief and desperate regret to be torn from Dionysus. As they rounded a bend in the trail, she looked back, unable to ignore the urge to see him again. He stood where she’d left him, staring at her with an expression that sent shivers down her spine. And for the briefest moment, as the fires lit him from behind, she swore she saw a pair of horns atop his head.

0253

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 22/07/2026

And it was in this moment Will and Ashley moved from adverserial to simply... awkward. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Looking around at the others, none of whom seemed to have noticed anything, Anna crawled over the bar and, with the two men in tow, crossed to where Will was hiding. “What the hell, Will? You aren’t supposed to take off on me like that! You could have gotten me reprimanded.” She smacked Ashley on the shoulder, and Will almost burst out laughing at the startled Golden Retriever expression on the man’s face. “This one here saying something dumb and dramatic doesn’t mean you get to take off.”

“It’s not Ashley’s fault.” It was Ashley’s fault, but Will didn’t want to do anything to reignite any hostilities between them. Their ceasefire was a tremulous enough thing as it was, and he’d been nice to Jacob, which earned him some consideration. “I don’t know if I believed in ghosts when I got here, and now I’m some sort of grand ghost central station. It’s weird.”

“I must apologize to you.” Ashley held out his hand like he was expecting Will to shake it. Anna smacked it down and shook her head, tutting beneath her breath. He glanced at her and, once again, shoved his hands in his pockets. It dawned on Will that he did it when he had no idea what else to do with them, and she wondered if, far from being a snob, he was simply as socially awkward as the rest of them.

0263

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 21/07/2026

Is this an info dump? Yes. Did I do what I could to make it less awful? Also yes. I think. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

“I was sent away, my worship outlawed, my followers punished or driven to the edges of society to carry on my rituals. When I was allowed to return, I was this. This youth, this feckless piece of soft flesh and untried virtue, gelded and declawed.”

Beren thought she understood what he was telling her, but the dizzying shifts, the soft edges and rippling shapes threatened to overwhelm her and drive her stomach up through her throat. “Please. I need you to stop.”

“They mistrusted my oldest self and wrangled me into my youngest. Nothing but a hedonistic party seeker brought in to keep the masses in line with parties and occasional revelry. My mysteries undone and scattered. Even the theaters ripped from me.” Dionysus spat. “The Romans were no dramatists. The same four plots were rewoven, and the same characters recycled until they had no meaning. I was called Liber, but the freedom I provided was girded, fenced, controlled.”

“You want to be your old self again.” Beren settled on a nearby bench, clearing a seat by prying it free from the greenery. She needed to get something solid beneath her before her head spun off her shoulders. “I understand. Like the one you maybe were in The Bacchae?”

“Older.” Dionysus smiled, lids flickering as he faced the sun and raised his arms in greeting. “When I taught man how to cultivate the vine and sup on my flesh. When I was the son of two great gods of Olympus and Underworld—or even the son of no one at all.” His arms dropped, and he faced Beren. “And yet… I would not wish to be rid of my mother. I claimed her, too, you know. Semele. Tricked into her own death by a jealous witch of a woman.”

4346

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 20/07/2026

I didn't have 'unfazed, so I went with 'calm'. The situation in this snippet isn't either of those things, though. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Ashley followed Henry with an unerring gaze, always between her and their erstwhile companion. He’d shifted somehow, his easy movements tighter with every passing second, though his calm expression never wavered. “Leave her be. We are none of us responsible for the actions of our ancestors.”

Henry fixed his red-rimmed eyes on Ashley, head cocked in a strange slant. “No. But we are responsible for the legacy we take from them. Aren’t we, Wilhelmina?” He moved quicksilver fast, his body twisting at unnatural angles as he trained his mad glare once more on Will. “You know we are.”

“What legacy have I had from Eli Barker, Mr. Whittaker?” Will asked, trying to break through the hold Abraham had on Henry. “I just learned a few days ago I was related to him. What legacy have I received?”

“The silver!” Henry roared. Around them, doors opened, and bodies streamed into the streets, each one a filthy and red-eyed mirror of their spokesman. A line of human marionettes. “The silver is your legacy, young Barker! And you will bear it until it is returned to its rightful owner, or your blood is paid in recompense.”

0255

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 19/07/2026

Lots of 'divine' in this novel, but not a lot that make a great snippet. Probably because this is a first draft... #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Beren fixed her best stare at Dionysus, hoping it conveyed exactly how serious she was being. “I hope you know, I will do whatever I can to keep the people of this town safe. Even if that means hurting you.”

Dionysus sat up and offered Beren a wildflower that seemed to have come from nowhere. “I know. It’s always been part of what I like about you.” He leaned forward and stuck the bloom behind her ear. “And it doesn’t happen often, but I think you probably could. Your magic shapes chaos into order. Among the people of Olympus, that is considered a divine calling.”

Beren touched the flower, unsure if it was some godly attempt to seduce her. But, no, it had no spell upon it. “You came because my magic could help you. You said as much. So, what is it I can do for you?”

“My dear, it is not simply your magic. As I have said, you are not the chosen of the Fates to battle me.” Dionysus sat back, twirling his staff through the air. “I came because your soul begged for freedom. You’ve just been so terrible at letting go.”

0305

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 18/07/2026

It might be a Wild West LARP, but they're bathing in modern facilities. Because I'm not a monster. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

“It was darker than dark! And it disappeared into the wall. After the lights went on!”

“Why are there electric lights in here at all?” muttered the man Will had met at the baggage claim when he recognized the scrunched-up Rapture Ridge pamphlet in her hand. Henry, she thought. She’d been too busy decompressing from the confines of the plane to be much for conversation, so he’d done all the talking. She hadn’t absorbed much, but what she remembered said he was the kind of cop that relished his power too much for comfort. For someone so concerned about anachronisms, he evidently believed miners dressed primarily to show off their muscles. “You’d think there’d be gas lamps and shit.”

Anna separated from the huddle of employees watching from the sidewalk outside and gently wove her way to the center of the group. “As your guide explained during your orientation, there are some concessions made to safety and modern expectations. While there are more rustic occasions and locations, those buildings designated for guest accommodations are equipped with basic electric and indoor plumbing. You can choose not to use them, of course, though I have yet to meet the guest who wants to clean out their own latrine.” This won a couple of quick chuckles of acknowledgement from the group. The thought of ablutions in an outhouse made Will’s arms itch.

“Why are you so obsessed with the light, man? There was a shadow! In broad daylight!” Dick gestured toward the corner, movements so insistent, Will half expected him to tell her she’d get a second ghost for free if she called in the next four minutes. She had to admit his enthusiasm comforted her. It was easier to know where she stood with nerds.

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 17/07/2026

The only use of 'acquire' in anything I've written. Pretend it's a good snippet! #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

“How do I talk to you?”
“Energy.”
Will frowned. “I have a machine to electrify the air, but that’s on the other side of the building. If I go, they’ll hear me and stop this. I’m not meant to be reaching out to you. I’ve… had some issues with the ghosts here.” Scratching her head, she thought about her options. Involving herself with the ghosts had only ended badly. But she was sure talking to Eli was the only way to acquire the information she needed. “You’ll just have to take energy from me.”
The words were out and spoken before she’d made up her mind, her heart making the decision her brain was still pondering. She stared at her hands and the machine in them, focusing on the sounds coming through in stochastic bursts. She should have thought of bringing something to help Eli. Should have realized they’d never pressed him so hard. But she hadn’t, so it was up to her to make up for her own mistakes.
“Eli. If you need energy to speak, it has to be mine. Use the link between us.”
“How do I talk to you?”
“Energy.”
Will frowned. “I have a machine to electrify the air, but that’s on the other side of the building. If I go, they’ll hear me and stop this. I’m not meant to be reaching out to you. I’ve… had some issues with the ghosts here.” Scratching her head, she thought about her options. Involving herself with the ghosts had only ended badly. But she was sure talking to Eli was the only way to acquire the information she needed. “You’ll just have to take energy from me.”
The words were out and spoken before she’d made up her mind, her heart making the decision her brain was still pondering. She stared at her hands and the machine in them, focusing on the sounds coming through in stochastic bursts. She should have thought of bringing something to help Eli. Should have realized they’d never pressed him so hard. But she hadn’t, so it was up to her to make up for her own mistakes.
“Eli. If you need energy to speak, it has to be mine. Use the link between us.”

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 16/07/2026

Beren is not having a Good Time. Granted, she brought this on herself. But, still... her morals force her to take care of a woman she loathes. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

“Uh, hi, Edith.”

Edith walked away without saying anything. Which wouldn’t have been unexpected, except she left the door open and stalked off like a cat following a laser pointer. Beren waited a moment, collecting her thoughts, before stepping inside and closing the door behind her. “Edith? Are you OK?”

The house smelled like pot. And paint. And was that burning? Beren’s nose wrinkled just as a smoke alarm went off in the back of the house. Edith made no move toward the sound, instead picking up a glass of wine and downing it before belting out the lyrics to an entirely different song than the one she was listening to. She picked up a paint brush, tossed some slapdash strokes of neon green on—Beren nearly choked—a portrait of Albert’s grandfather, then seemed to lose interest in the project entirely, dropping the brush on the ground and taking off toward the next room.

“Are you going to get whatever’s burning…? Nope. Guess not.” Beren rushed to the oven and, using her sweatshirt to cover her mouth, switched it off and opened the door. Great billows of smoke burned her eyes, and she blinked away tears before grabbing a nearby dish towel and pulling out what had once been brownies but were now more like charcoal briquettes. “OK. Alright. This is…”

She spun to see Edith staring at the smoke with something like religious exultation.

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 15/07/2026

Anyone prone to motion sickness who's ever been stuck in the middle seat knows how Will is fearing here. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Jacob perked up, face alight as anticipation danced in his eyes. Nothing was more exciting than sharing one's passion with the uninitiated. "Did you get to the part where it took two point three million dollars to restore the town?"

Will had, but she shook her head. "Wow! I look forward to seeing it."

She'd never developed the skill of nodding and smiling at the right moments without listening, but fortunately the subject of Rapture Ridge interested her enough to handle the torrent of data Jacob spewed at her, from the proper use of materials and techniques to Corny's decision to implement historic reenactments featuring existing denizens of the city. Will, drawing on her experience working in a museum, sprinkled details into the conversation just to give the kid a chance to breathe. It all had the rather glorious effect of making her forget how miserable she was.

Almost.

"Look!" Jacob suddenly pointed out the window. "We're here!"

Will gathered her skirts and, with all the grace of the first fish to drag itself out of the primordial ocean, lurched across Jacob and thrust her head into the open. The wind, cool and soft against her cheeks, eased the foulness of the last hour. Her hands gripped the door, knuckles white with the pressure of keeping her upright inside the coach. Her initial thoughts, still caught in discomfort, were of the potential godliness of air conditioning and whether sainthood were a plausible alternative. Then Jacob slid next to Ashley, and Will plopped onto the seat, allowing her to focus on the town for the first time.

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 14/07/2026

This novel is absolutely not going to go full "The Bacchae", no matter how many people in Glaucaster the Coven might want to tear apart with their bare hands. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

“What? We’re dealing with a god who deals in people recognizing and understanding themselves. How are we ever going to send him packing if these two won’t—” Charlie’s eyes widened, and she craned her head to look at Alex. “Oh. Oh! Oh, dear. You haven’t quite kept it under control, have you? Naughty boy. Well, I suppose it wouldn’t do to go trampling over Dionysus’ chosen Priestess. At least until after the ceremony is over.” Her expression turned contemplative. “Though how a mortal is supposed to compete with a god…”

“Right. OK. Thank you, Charlie.” Beren rubbed her face. “Let’s just get this done, OK? We have the rest of today and until sunset tomorrow to get prepared for this phase of the operation. And once Cass and Phoebe are… back with us, you lot will have to do to the rest without me. I don’t know if me being involved in any ritual work after, uh—”

“You fuck a god?” Charlie raised a brow.

“Right. Yes. While he’s distracted with the initiation, it’ll be up to you to protect as much of the town as possible. Dionysus said this is going to bring things into the endgame, and he won’t be able to stop the wheel once it gets turning. There’s going to be violence, and what we need to do is figure out how to channel it so the aftermath doesn’t get the National Guard called down on us or, heaven forbid, it spills the boundaries of the town.” Beren shuddered at the thought of wild processions spreading like mad zombie hoards over the landscape. “There must be a sacrifice. Our biggest concern is… how do we make sure it’s not human?”

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 12/07/2026

I really put my MC through some stuff in this book. Just ghost attacks left and right. And neurotypical nonsense out the wazoo. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Will had no memory of how she got back. Had Ashley carried her in his arms the entire way? No, Anna would never have let him do that, so she must have driven them over in the cart. But wouldn’t Will remember something like that? Everything was such a blur, a slurry of experiences she couldn’t manage to single out before they sunk into the morass of exhaustion. But she recalled being put to bed. And she could just about picture someone sitting in the chair beside her all night, first Ashley, then Anna, and finally Jacob, who greeted her with the sun.

“You’ve got some wicked scratches, Will.” Jacob helped her sit up, piling extra pillows behind her back so she would be comfortable. It reminded her, uncomfortably, of the time she’d had her appendix out and everyone had babied her for a week afterward. Too much attention. This time, she welcomed it. Everything hurt. Even lifting her arms to hold onto Jacob’s hands set her muscles to trembling.

A bandage wrapped around her upper arm, and she could see the beginnings of blood seeping through the fabric. “Is that what this is?”

Jacob dragged the chair across the floor and planted it next to the bed. “You don’t remember?”

“I remember burning, but I didn’t know what it was.”

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 12/07/2026

11. This novel is as close to 🌶️ as I get as a writer. And that's only because I had to for the story. In order to fulfill their accidental bargain, Beren has to go through initiation. #SummerOfStories #writingcommunity #writesky

“How do you feel?”

Beren hummed, the occasional tremor speaking to how well-used her body felt. But she had the sense that wasn’t what Dionysus was asking. “I feel like this is going to ache later. But, mostly, I—” She paused, gauging her feelings, reaching within for whatever truth Dionysus wanted her to find. In the ecstatic ghosts of their coupling, her soul stirred. From the depths of the earth, a simple melody sounded its nascent tones, beguiling and arcane. She reached for the sound, ran her mind over its vibrations, and allowed it to carry her up and into the heavens. Into the symphony of creation, twisting the threads of chaos and giving them shape, breathing purpose into each chord and phrase and watching as existence itself emerged. She could hear the whispers of the air and the language of plants in the interplay of leaf and breeze. Feel the stubborn mutability of the waters as they tamed the adamant beneath their flow. Taste the grape from root through flowering and into the burst of juices against her tongue. Finally, the flame of spirit within her as she sipped the nectar of Olympus. Wracking, almost painful sobs wrenched her shoulders and dragged the air from her lungs, the pinprick sublimity reducing her to tears.

“How do you feel?” Dionysus asked again, his voice a quiet half whisper, like it was coming from far away. “Give it voice, Postulant.”

Beren wrenched her eyes open, prying her salt-stained lashes from her cheeks and blinking away the swimming haze of her vision. Dionysus’ expression pierced the space between them, clear-eyed and expectant, but patient. “I—” she choked, struggling to breathe let alone to speak. “Can’t.”

Dionysus sighed, mouth twisting in an indulgent smile. “Ah, mortals. Have I not told you your gift is to bring order to chaos? Use it now and give voice to your feelings or the working between us is not complete. As pleasurable as this has been, it would be a shame to reach this far and reject your service."

091

C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 11/07/2026

It doesn't go well when the hearth witch's home is violated. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

Beren crept forward to keep from startling anything. As soon as she was close enough, she lunged forward and grabbed the ladder, holding it still against Emma’s growing tremors. “Emma, my love. My darling. We can redo the wards later so they won’t bother you. But they’re going to keep growing. Especially if Phoebe has taken off to join the revelers in the woods.”

“I need to calm them down.” Emma’s voice was small, quiet, almost childlike. Beren could see her crawling inside herself, retreating into the corners of her mind she’d constructed when she was young. It was years since the last time Emma had an attack, and that one hadn’t been nearly this encompassing. “I can’t stand the—the aggression. She’s so angry.”

Beren sighed. It wasn’t just the plant life triggering Emma, then. “My love, please come down. There’s plenty of salt, and we can make offerings to the nisse later. Even though Phoebe isn’t here, I know she wouldn’t mind you using some of her sage, and I have black sand. Just please come down. We have to find Phoebe. You know Cass doesn’t mean to hurt you. She’s just worried.”

Emma nodded almost imperceptibly. Someone who hadn’t lived with her for a while would never be able to tell it had, in fact, been a nod at all. “I know. I know she is. I just can’t help… this.” She gestured to the house with one hand, gripping the ladder even more tightly with the other. “I’m so scared all the time now. When I wake up, I can hardly breathe. It’s like my lungs are trapped under the weight of my fear. I haven’t… It’s been since—”

“Shh. I know. I know, hon. But please come down so we can go through your breathing and visualization exercises together. I’ll make you some tea.”

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C Alexandra @nerdcactus.bsky.social · 10/07/2026

The only use of substitute in every WIP I have. Clearly need to write more stories set in high school. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writesky

She shrugged and put the device back down before grabbing another cookie. Sometimes carbs really did make everything better.

“Will!” Jacob cried from the other side of the room. “It’s calling for sage. Do we have any?”

Will frowned and shook her head. “Let’s not go with that. The last thing we need is to mess with techniques that aren’t our own on stolen land.” She ran through what she remembered of herbal lore. It had been several years since she studied it. “Rosemary is a decent substitute. And I think we’re in a good place for it. Didn’t I see some growing around the homestead?”

“Yeah. Along the southern fence.” Anna gestured toward the far side of the building, closer to the guys. “Tons of it. It got somewhat out of control after a bumper crop year, so now we put it on everything. Makes a bomb shower sprig.”

“When did you learn all this?” Ashley asked, turning in his chair and throwing his arm over the back. Will couldn’t tell if the expression on his face was admiring or concerned. Most of her hoped for the latter. Life would be so much simpler if only it were the latter. “It’s a surprising direction from you.”

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