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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 10h

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From Epic Fantasy WIP, Waking the Saints, a young horsegirl brings news of invasion to the privy council. Quimmick warned Lualih that other clans gathered & asked for a bride of royal blood to seal a treaty. Vetal wants nothing to do with demons.

“How did the Northmen get there so fast? They usually only have a few dozen raiders, mostly on foot,” Baron Vinkel asked. Lualih spared him from a glare as he knew the Northmen’s habits from defending his border barony.
“Fort Stronghold Horse Fair. Dozens of trade caravans camped outside the city walls.”
“Northmen, mounted. An army of invaders on stolen horses.” Baron Vinkel swept his hand through a ward against evil.
“What about the banners? How many, what clans? Cat, Hawk, Wolf…Bear?” Lualih asked.
Quimmick frowned at the name of his clan. His mouth flopped open to object before his better sense stopped him.
“One Wolf, three Hawk, too many to count of Cat,” Tam said. “If there were banners from Bear, they were on the other side of the city where I couldn’t see them.”
“Nor would you,” Quimmick said. “We have kept the treaty! Your Majesty, I warned you the Cat armies threaten us all. Your guard told us when the god-voice spoke, it meant the Cat chief is demon-eaten.” Gimmick waved a hand toward Vetal, who shook his head and backed away from the narrowed eyes of his fellow Blue. “Remember I offered you an alliance!”
“The price was too high,” snapped Lualih. Tepaya wasn’t desperate enough to accept the marriage yet. “But I agree the danger is real.”
Tauno patted the young girl’s back before striding to the head of the table. “We must assemble an army to drive the invaders out of Huxen.” The servants scrambled to pull out his chair, but he threaded through them to stand behind her. His hands rested on her shoulders, a warm weight that did little to calm her trembling knees hidden beneath her skirts.

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 29/09/2026

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Despard shows the weird foreign refugees a place to stay.

“Thank you for your generosity,” Kahyla said. The soldier frowned. Kahyla picked her way through the debris. “We’ll need to clean it before we can sleep here.” Abber snorted in agreement. “Is there a bucket for water?”
Tebfin squirmed out of Kahyla's reach and picked up a cracked leather strap. Abber nudged a dented bowl from under the remains of a chair. Despairing over Abber’s scandalously unbound hair, Kahyla wondered if any of their other coolans had survived the fire.
“You could draw water from the Silva temple a few blocks from here,” said the soldier. His hand crept to a coin closure on his cloak. “The House of Atelle is closer, but the water's sweeter from the goddess' well.”
River grit crunched against Kahyla's teeth. A lying demon could disguise mud as pure water. “As a daughter of Parkith, I couldn't enter the temple.” She tugged Abber's hair into a more modest position, receiving a pouting glare in return. “We follow His Laws, even when outside Huxen.”
“Huxen? You three are from Huxen? I thought your accent sounded funny.”
“The wellspring of morality and the True Faith of Parkith.” Kahyla reflexively formed a flame symbol with three fingers and tapped over her heart.
“But you people are zealots! You won't let any trade ships further than Gooseport without some goofy requirements. Ferruthan privateers love taking Huxen ships,” the mercenary said. “Why come here?”

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 28/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From Epic Fantasy WIP, Waking the Saints. Zorrik obeys the commands of Saint Podru and his god Parkith, but his prejudice against foreigners and their religion gets a shock.

Zorrik choked. “Silva? You’re a demon-worshiper?”
“Have you forgotten Saint Podru’s words during my Ordeal?” Kahyla asked. “Repeat them so Despard believes me.”
“I haven’t forgotten, m’am. Before the Prelate sealed the record, I copied the entire transcript into my personal journal.” Zorrik closed his eyes and called to mind his smudged hasty handwriting. “‘Kahyla can marry you, if she likes, in addition to that Silva follower Despard. Just make sure you find a Silva priest for that ceremony.’” Zorrik paused under Kahyla’s glare. “‘Or Parkith’s sister will be pissed.’”
At last the edge disappeared from his side as Despard’s laughter echoed off the high ceiling of the receiving room. “Blessed by Her Luck, it’s real,” Despard spun Kahyla in his arms. “Mine, you’re mine!”
Despite Kahyla’s smile, she shouldn’t allow it, a tien-queen mishandled by her own guard. Hardly his primary concern but perhaps King Tauno was right to send her into exile.

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 26/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Honest enemies and false friends push Kahyla to discover the only way to save her family means risking Despard’s life.

“Gooseport declared his candidacy for the crown and asked me to marry him to get to Princess Lualih,” said Kahyla, not looking at him.
Every muscle tensed as he gripped the back of her chair. “You told him yes, didn’t you?”
Finally meeting his eyes, Kahyla shook her head. Her shoulders slumped, her face slack, her body a contradiction to the happy news.
Vayhne observed her response. “She refused him, quietly, but publicly told the princess to back off on Kahyla’s marriage prospects.” He steepled his fingers. “The offer stands. Gooseport could protect you as king. You wouldn’t be the first royal with a lover on the side.”
A step and a bent knee would bring him to Kahyla’s lips. His feet moved, bringing him close enough to see her eyes were flat instead of shining with laughter.
“What’s wrong?” Despard choked down hope, his throat tightening.
She doesn’t want you as a lover.
“She’d have to reveal who her Paer is.” Abber crossed her arms. “I warned you back in Bivmiav. I warned you the priests would never approve.”
“I don’t understand. When you said, not your father, I assumed Tebfin,” started Vayhne. “Oh, you didn’t. You chose a foreign heathen? Despard is your Paer? The priests might kill him for sacrilege.”
“That’s what you were hiding?” Despard dropped into the chair next to her.

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 26/09/2026

Scary season is coming! Ghost story vibes & feminist journey, “Haint Blue” in VOICES LIKE THESE from storyforge.com When you work in a haunted house, the fake monsters are your family & real props open dimensional windows. Buy indie at bit.ly/4mLwQSw #WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky 💙📚 🪐📚

Book cover with title VOICES LIKE THESE. Many windows appear against a dark background, each with a different scene.

Story title Haint Blue against a dark background and a window with flames. Arrows point to Haunted House, Sci-Fi, Alternate Dimension, Overcoming abuse, Found family and Horror. Story story found in Voices Like These. A StoryForge Anthology

$Story title Haint Blue against a dark background and a window with flames. When you work in a haunted house, fake monsters become your family, and some of the props might open dimensional windows. For Cassie, it's always been part of the job. But when the past slips through the cracks and starts haunting her for real, she's force to question everything. Will she know if she's made the right choice...before it's too late? Haint Blue is a story about found family, fractured realities, and the ghosts we carry, both real and imagined. Voices like these is the first short stories anthology published by StoryForge. What would you do if the line between memory and nightmare started to blur?$ Two zombies stare at the camera in front of a shadowy door

Two zombies stare at the camera in front of a shadowy door

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 25/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From Epic Fantasy WIP, Waking the Saints. King Tauno is new to diplomacy and some of his fellow barons are xenophobic.

“The best advice I’ve gotten from a commoner has been from Songmaster Malgrim,” Tauno blurted.
Lualih tried not to groan.
“That’s very generous, Your–” Malgrim said, the open space around him expanding.
“Outrageous!” roared Baron Kotkas from Bizal’s side. “A foreigner and base minstrel. How could we trust the oath of a heathen?”
That heathen had officiated the oath-taking for their first Ferruthan Royal Blue. The mountain of Prelate Tyrg shuddered, a warning of the inevitable eruption.
“–but I must decline, Your Majesty,” finished Malgrim in a brief slice of silence. Taking advantage of the break in shouting and the clearing around him, he bowed toward Tauno with a perfect courtly bent knee. “I appreciate your confidence in me, but I am already liege-sworn.”
“A spy! Damned Ferruthan spy! Why is he here?” accused Baron Kotkas.
“Songmaster Malgrim has my personal invitation,” said Tauno coldly. “His advice was invaluable on the threat of pirates off the coast of Bajan, during their renewed tensions with Ferruth.”
Baron Tartuj nodded sagely. “My shipping fleet captains left with instructions to avoid Bajan on their route to Inani silk ports. You have my thanks, Songmaster.”
“I hope your gratitude extends to easing tensions between Huxen and Ferruth,” Malgrim said. “In light of the possible hostilities with Bajan, King Fergan is most anxious to avoid a war on two fronts. He gave me his warrant to negotiate a permanent treaty between our nations. Your ships would no longer be bothered by Ferruthan privateers. Shall we return to the discussion of trade routes, Sire?”
The sparkle returned to Tauno’s eyes. He would learn, if he had allies and time. “Baron Tartuj, did you bring those maps of the Ferruthan strait? If we didn’t have to sail outbound to the Birdan Islands, instead hug the Ferruthan coast, we could shed weeks of time. Fewer escort ships to save the royal treasury.”

0222

Reposted by Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸

Zack Filipovich for MN Auditor @zackformn.bsky.social · 16/09/2026

From the Minnesota Star Tribune: Filipovich emphasizes prevention and technical assistance, and his pitch points to his résumé: Elect an accountant to run an accounting office. www.startribune.com/mn-state-aud...

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 24/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Trying to figure out why Bizal paid for Kahyla’s location.

Malgrim rubbed his smooth chin. “A meddling Bizal couldn’t do much more than embarrass Grath, even if he stepped in as Kahyla’s Paer himself. If Bizal’s angling for the crown, why bother? What did Grath do to become a rival?”
“Father was one of the barons who voted to dedicate the princess to Silvern Academy instead of marrying the Archduke. Bizal wanted her betrothal as his third wife before he would support the King on another campaign against the Northmen,” Kahyla said, glancing at Malgrim’s distinctive Northman white hair.
“A royal connection by marriage or blood. One of the criteria you listed for a good king candidate,” said Malgrim, tapping his fingers together. “Could Grath try to marry the princess himself?”

0230

Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 23/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From Epic Fantasy WIP, Waking the Saints. Zorrik hunted down mages. Vayhne rose to power as the late King’s advisor, but secretly saved his fellow mages. The demons are real but the saints require a worthy body as a vessel.

“Most havens are much bigger and heavier than Podru’s. That’s how Bizal was able to hide it in plain sight as a ring.” Zorrik pulled a key from under his priest’s robes. He unlocked a tall cabinet covered in ornate carved flames. Inside, shelf upon shelf filled with gemstones. Orange ones, green ones, most chunky quartz the size of two fists. A hazy light shone from a few but the bottom two shelves were dark as death. Zorrik took down a small velvet bag from the top shelf.
Vayhne leaned closer as Zorrik untied the bag. His anger melted away, drowned by curiosity. The ring tumbled against the scarlet kid leather of Zorrik’s gloves. A circle of gold held a thumb-sized ruby. Light shifted within it, not randomly but with a living purpose, like a cloud of starlings rising into the air.
“The light has been getting dimmer, but I don’t understand why.” Zorrik waved at his bookshelves. “I’ve read everything I can find but none of them mention how to open a haven, only that the saints will awaken when Parkith returns to fight the Demonflood. I don’t have the tools to understand.”

0293

Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 22/09/2026

Meltdown = tantrum #WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. An accusation of magery from a jealous Vetal could bring arrest. Grath wants to eliminate his bastard children as an obstacle to the crown, but the young Tebfin still trusts him.

Kalev pulled Abber to standing and a kiss, earning a scowl from Vetal.
“Be careful, Kahyla.” Vetal skulked off to the fountain. “With your next mistaken magic, you could end up demon-eaten like your father.”
Despard let out a breath, hoping this would be the extent of Vetal’s tantrum. A breeze set the lamps on the second floor flickering and hoofbeats sounded from a nearby street. The lamp over the gate swung from the goose’s beak, illuminating a Grath servant in a purple tabard.
“I have a message for Lady Kahyla Grath from her father,” said the servant.
Niklos jerked his head toward the jumping second floor light. With a curse, he ran for the stairs, disappearing into the Tamrin rooms. Kahyla walked toward the gate, but kept the gatekeeper between her and the servant. Niklos stumbled back to the railing.
“The window’s open. He must have climbed down.” Niklos slammed his hand against the railing. “Tebfin’s gone.”
“What’s your message?” Kahyla asked the servant curtly.
“Bring your sister to the Grath townhouse immediately to discuss terms for an exchange,” he said. “He has your brother.”

0220

Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 21/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Abber escapes during the night, headed through the mountain forest by feel and horse-sense.

Abber pulled the cloak tighter and nudged her horse the opposite direction around the cottage. A goat track led deeper into a stand of rowan trees covered in early flower buds. Following the refrozen slush, they soon intersected a small stream, probably a tributary to the Silvern.
“Upstream and uphill, Clover,” Abber said, her breath clouding the air.
The mare picked her way along the edge of the stream, avoiding roots in the moonlight filtering through the branches. As night wore on, Abber caught herself napping and jerked awake when a branch dragged across her face. Eyes bleary, Abber looked for any sign of shelter to rest. She couldn’t remember anything but animal tracks for hours. Traveling during the day risked being sighted by Bizal’s men or even riders from Lord Terrick. A gnarled maple tree provided a break from the quickening breeze. Giving the mare a long line to browse, Abber settled under the tree with her cloak wrapped around her face to wait out the day. Bird songs with the dawn lulled her to a deep sleep.
Warm horse breath nuzzling her hood woke her to a hungry afternoon. Stretching stiff limbs, Abber rose to unstake Clover and lead her to the creek for a drink. Scooping water with her hands, Abber gulped down the icy cold water, tangy with minerals from the rocky bed. While the horse drank her fill, Abber scrambled back to the tree and dug into the saddlebags.

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 20/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Despard leaves his guard post to rescue drowning refugees.

A light haired form snatched at a rope, hands slipping and pulling as the rope grew taut, then sank again. A dark silhouette beat at the water's surface, rising then falling in the silt-dark waves. He threw the rope bag to the more panicked figure, then approached the other struggling shape.
Cursing his stupidity for getting involved, Despard swam closer and tried to grab the drowner. Backing away when the figure clawed at his arms, he re-aligned behind them. He tried again, holding out his arms to sandwich them into a horizontal float. Bumping against an unexpectedly soft chest, he got bashed with an elbow and let go. She dropped lower. A surge of water pressure against his legs signaled her location within the center channel. He spat out river water, tasting rotten pennywort and mud.
How much longer could she last? Dredged for cargo boats, the river here was deep but slow. Even late in the season, disturbed mud clouded the water, making it impossible for him to find her if she didn't surface. Would she bump against a canal skiff or wash up on a sandbar with the kelp, drowned like his cousin? When the search party pulled the lost fool from the reeds, his face was gray and swollen.
A ghostly swipe skittered across his shin.

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 19/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky 💙📚 🪐📚 With ghost story vibes and a feminist journey, “Haint Blue” in VOICES LIKE THESE from @story-forge.bsky.social When you work in a haunted house, the fake monsters are your family and real props open dimensional windows. Buy indie at bit.ly/4mLwQSw

The mad scientist room came alive with twitching tubes and bubbling beakers. A Cold War era Geiger counter clicked ominously, while lasers shot through the heavy fog. Breathing shallow through her nose, Cassie passed the gurgling fog machine as it cycled through another billow of white mist. An animatronic scientist torturing a student would goose the patrons through the lab coats hung over the exit. Sometimes they panicked into the actor’s door and got lost in the backstage area, forcing the actors to herd them back into the maze.
A massive bank of electronics filled the far wall with a projector the size of a car door. Buttons, switches and flashing lights covered the rest of the box, with labels in Cyrillic. Todd’s professor had been a refugee from Ukraine, working on quantum multiworld theories in the Physics department. Obsessed with the universes created by Schrodinger’s theories, Dr. Slava had been one step away from a stable prototype to produce windows into the alternative timelines where the cat had lived. Named after the scientists who had laid the theoretical foundation, the Everett-Rosen-Carroll projector hovered on the edge of the possible. All they needed was a little more funding. Cassie brushed aside the charred flap that covered the date input on the familiar box. No wonder Todd wanted to get rid of it. The scar pattern revealed the version of the ERC prototype – the disastrous demonstration run by Todd.

Two scare actors stare at the camera in front of a shadowy door

0212

Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 18/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Kahyla promised to pay Malgrim in Huxen etiquette lessons for helping her find Despard in a mercenary tavern. Naive Kahyla isn’t aware that Despard has been hiding from her for a very good reason.

A possessive grip slid over her waist.
“Get your hand off me!” Instinct raised Kahyla’s arm as she turned, but stopped short. Her fingertips brushed the hard leather below Despard’s shoulders. Weariness lined his face as he rose to his full height, closing the gap between them.
“A few gods-damned weeks,” he cursed softly. “Only a few weeks and you would’ve been safe.”
“Despard, I don’t understand,” she said.
Despard increased the pressure with his hand on her waist, crushing her breath. Kahyla sensed Malgrim scrambling to draw his rapier.
Had she earned Despard’s anger?
Leaning his chin against her coolan, he whispered, “Follow my lead. You’re in danger here.”
Her body sagged with relief. He wasn’t angry. She could face danger together.
“I’ll take this bed warmer for what you owe me,” said Despard, pulling her a step away from Malgrim.
Bed warmer? What did that even mean?
“Thank you for your help, Malgrim,” Kahyla said, catching her breath. “You’ll get your payment later at the minstrel’s guild.”
A beat passed before Malgrim recovered in true minstrel fashion. “I see I’ll leave you with good protection.”

0221

Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 17/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From Epic Fantasy WIP, Waking the Saints. Queen Lualih losing her patience with the war council after the king rides to the battlefront.

“Your Majesty, you cannot expect him to beggar himself for a royal war,” objected Kotkas.
“We will pay him! He will send his spring wheat to the Narrows now. When the bridge can be repaired, the winter wheat will go to him.”
A scowl clouded Kotkas’s face. “The winter wheat is worth more than his spring wheat.”
Yes, the winter wheat had been purchased at a high price from Kotkas in the rich valleys of the Escala river.
“A reward for his sacrifice to the war effort,” Lualih said. “How soon could you send a message to your grain masters?”
“M’am! The council has not decided on this matter!” Kotkas’s jowls shuddered.
Lualih signalled for Captain Jan to pull out her chair. The ancient lacquered wood creaked as she calmly settled her skirts. “The council exists to advise the Sovereign. I have made my decision.”
“The King! We advise the king!”
Lualih spread her fingers on the table. The golden cuffs clinked so quietly only she could hear them above the murmuring voices.
“The king is not here. He bravely lead his army against a mounted horde of Northmen. His soldiers deserve food to strengthen them for the fight.”
“Only the king may command the council.” Kotkas’s voice rose above the noise.
The moment had arrived. Sleeping saints, she hoped this worked.
“I speak with the King’s Voice.” A roll of thunder filled the silence.

0202

Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 16/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From Epic Fantasy WIP, Waking the Saints. When an invasion requires a response, who goes? Bizal has a history as a succesful general and a deadly rival for the throne.

Tauno patted the young girl’s back before striding to the head of the table. “We must assemble an army to drive the invaders out of Huxen.” The servants scrambled to pull out his chair, but he threaded through them to stand behind her. His hands rested on her shoulders, a warm weight that did little to calm her trembling knees hidden beneath her skirts.
“Armies cost money, Sire.” Bizal tucked his perfumed handkerchief into his sleeve. “Your barons will, of course, provide the liege-sworn soldiers required if you call a royal levy, but beyond that you will need mercenaries. Soldiers expect to be paid, fed, clothed, and outfitted. If you had chosen your King’s Advisor, I’m sure he would have told you that the royal treasury is limited. Do you intend to supplement this war funding from your House Gooseport purse?”
The weight increased on her shoulders.
Demons take the man. He knew Tauno had spent every coin securing votes in the Baron’s Moot to win his crown. His fleet was mortgaged, everything risked to save her from a loveless match.
“How can you debate about money at a time like this, my cousin?” The Prelate’s hands twitched on the table. “An invasion by the demon-eaten. It could be the beginning of the Demonflood and we have no saints to protect us. The temple will supply funding for this holy war. Ten thousand gold coins for the first month and three legions of temple guards.”
Bizal coughed curses into his handkerchief. Lualih blinked slowly as she calculated what that much gold could buy. Only for the first month! How much were the priests hoarding?

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 15/09/2026

exterior - outside #WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Malgrim, a minstrel, brings Abber disguised as his apprentice to the Huxen Ambassador’s ball.

Abber hugged Tebfin good night before leaving. She held Kahyla’s borrowed cloak shut against the early winter winds as she walked to the Embassy district. Meeting her at the tavern nearest the Huxen embassy, Malgrim visibly did a double take upon seeing her.
“You look lovely, my dear. A true jewel. Perhaps you could go by the name of Beryl tonight?” Malgrim said. “None of my Ferruthan friends will believe you’re my apprentice, but that’s the story for tonight.”
“Tell all your Ferruthan friends that I’m your tailor,” Abber replied.
“Ah, that would be simplicity itself, Mistress Beryl.” Linen trousers with velvet gussets snugged Malgrim’s calves while his minstrel blue jacket was trimmed with dark blue piping. Thanks to several hatpins, a peaked hat adorned with bluebird feathers stayed secured to his head.
“As my apprentice, I’ll ask you to carry the hospitality offering.” Malgrim hitched a covered hamper on his hip. The heavy basket exuded a delightful odor of ripe fruit. “We’d better hurry, if we want to arrive merely fashionably late.”
Fat flakes of snow spun lazily outside the Huxen Embassy’s front step. A Caldone couple behind them pointed and whispered, but Malgrim ignored them. He presented their invitation to a glowering servant in Bizal’s house color of turquoise.

0160

Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 14/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. An alliance marriage between Kahyla & Tauno would allow Lualih as Tauno’s second wife. It would solve problems for Kahyla but endanger Despard as a heathen and her chosen Paer or spiritual father.

“Thank you, Princess Lualih,” said Kahyla. “I am in your debt.”
“The debt is mine, if you choose to accept Tauno’s offer. I’ve been a pawn all my life, either my father, Master Vayhne, the Queens, or whatever Baron was on the rise.” Her face softened. “Tauno never saw me as a stepping stone to power. He knew I was bored with watercolors and brought me ships’ logs instead. I snuck out to see him wherever I could, but I knew it had to end someday. I’d be married off to a Baron to seal a deal, or worse, a foreign prince, to secure an alliance and never see Huxen or Tauno again.”
Lualih leaned forward. “Whatever you want to accept Tauno’s proposal, I will get for you. As soon as you’re wed, he’s a lord with land in Silvern barony. The Prelate of Parkith can marry Tauno and I in the Grand Temple and the demons can howl protest for all I care. You can get me Tauno. What do you want, Kahyla?”
“I want what marrying Baron Gooseport would destroy: a quiet life in Tamrin Manor, free to choose a partner instead of married to a stranger.”
“Marry Tauno and you’ll get it. You can retire to Tamrin with a squad of Blues to enforce your privacy. If Tauno tried to claim bed-rights against your wishes, I’d make sure he couldn’t walk straight for a month.”
Despard’s armor creaked as he shifted uncomfortably.
“It’s not that simple,” said Kahyla. “But getting us safely through reclaiming our home is a start.”

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 13/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Kahyla suspects an ambush waiting for them at the manor where her sister fled for dubious safety. As a foreign mercenary, Despard can’t expect mercy from the xenophobic locals.

“If there’s a whole company of Grath’s men, this falls apart. The horse is too tired to gallop, I can’t run, and a few sparks outside won’t cause the panic we need to get away.”
Sparks blooming into a campfire under her fingertips. A desperate need for magic a second time. Next time could bring demons demanding payment. Where was the demon’s bargain?
Despard paused to let the horse trot forward before unbuckling his sword belt from their salvaged gear. “Can you hide somewhere in the woods? Slip off the horse and run while I distract them?”
“But Despard–”
“Promise me you’ll run.”
Everyone she loved either dead or out of reach. Despard, Abber, Tebfin.
Kahyla nodded numbly at the stark choice.
Did she make the right decision? Going forward to find Abber and hoping they found more help than betrayal?
A curve in the road hid the final approach to the manor. She’d helped her mother plant the sumac bushes beside the stone pillars of the gate. Even in the late spring, a few fuzzy berry bunches drooped from the branches.
Home. She was almost home.

0222

Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 12/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Kahyla has acquired an escort while camping along the road. She doesn’t know who to trust, trapped between honest enemies and false friends.

Previous travelers had built their fire pit with smooth river rocks and benches of stripped logs. Upended stumps supported Abber’s stew pot and wash tub. Kalev and Abber quietly talked and laughed over the clatter of cleanup, far too close for propriety. Kalev used his linen handkerchief as an improvised dish towel, the Terrick’s lion and sassafras heraldry embroidered along the edge. A bucket of cold stream water hung from a low branch of an aspen starting to leaf out. At the edge of the flickering light, the horses snuffled on long browsing tethers. Despard tightened the canvas roof on one of their simple shelters, an open wedge tent facing the fire. In the other tent, Kirrik spread out a bedroll for Abber in the low-ceilinged depths.
Despard hid a yawn.
Kahyla stood and tucked the papers into the hanging pocket through the slit in her skirt seam. Another sleepless night for Despard since they couldn’t trust Kirrik or Kalev to stand watch alone.
“I’ll take the first watch,” Kahyla said, loud enough for the entire group to hear her.
Kirrik emerged from the nest of blankets like a crab, while Despard considered the idea.
“You didn’t back down from Bizal,” he said, finishing the knot on the tent flap. “Yell for help if there’s trouble, and wake me for the second watch.”

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 11/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Boss fight trying to rescue her little brother. Forbidden magic can bring demons but desperation drives Kahyla to try.

Kahyla reached the top of the hill with the shaded bench. Tebfin’s face stood out starkly white against his brown hair. Grath had tied the boy’s arm to the bench and made a precision cut. Grooves in the bench carried the steady drip of blood to the cup. Tebfin’s arm felt cold as she untied the rope and bent his elbow back to stop the flow.
Kahyla stood between Tebfin and Grath. Without Abber’s skill, she hadn’t paced herself. Exhaustion ached in her bones.
Please Parkith, grant me strength.
She spun a tiny witchball and threw, hitting Grath’s shoulder with a sizzle.

0272

Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 10/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From Epic Fantasy WIP, Waking the Saints. When an invasion requires a response, who goes? Bizal has a history as a successful general and a deadly rival for the throne.

“You’ve named all of your rivals and none of your allies, Sire,” said Bizal. “Someone might think you intend to beggar us.”
“Kalamaja sends cavalry,” cried Tauno’s ally.
“Sintebfin has archers.”
“Vinkel has forest-wise infantry.”
Younger barons and a veteran who knew the sting of Northmen raids.
Pacing past the royal chair, Tauno tapped three fingers to his heart in a pious gesture of thanks. “Your Excellency, your country needs your wisdom as a general.” Tauno offered his outstretched hand to Bizal. Only Lualih caught the tremor as he waited.
“With you as our brave leader, how could I refuse?” The whites of his teeth shone from Bizal’s mouth as he rose. “To King Tauno the Brave!”
Barons scrambled to their feet. “To King Tauno the Brave! King Tauno the Brave!”
Lualih reminded herself to breathe. Within the echoes of her mind, she heard them cheering her husband’s death.

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 09/09/2026

jury-rig an override #WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky 💙📚 🪐📚 Short story “A Brief Stop on the Way to Sheol.” Coric doesn’t like being legally dead. He buys an ID transponder from a dead woman, but stumbles into a mystery only the murdered ghost can solve. May her memory be a blessing, not a curse.

No, someone was trying to kill the Guardswoman. Her room, her transponder, and her booby-trap. To avoid blowing up the wrong person, make the trigger her transponder.
Coric coughed in the caustic fumes. Soon the jet fuel wouldn't need a spark. At 80% saturation, it would self-ignite, and everything within the sealed compartment would be reduced to ash. Nothing left to re-gen. No embarrassing testimony from the victim to jeopardize the colony's level 3 tech status. No withdrawal of the Colony Guard support technicians to run the Weather Towers until the terraforming stabilized. A lovely little plot with just one flaw.
I'm not her!
Coric covered his mouth with his jacket sleeve. Despite swollen eyes, he aimed his left elbow at the lock mechanism and smashed open the casing. Working on a security override, Coric clumsily pulled the wiring lefthanded.
I always knew Zack's little trick for getting contraband beer onto the ship would come in handy one of these days.
The wire arced as he completed the circuit. Flame filled the room. In-rushing wind howled through the opening door to fuel the combustion. Coric pulled himself through, rolling in the pellet-like Tuapsian snow.
Just as well I couldn't send that hypergram. I may end up dead, yet, Mom.

0244

Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 08/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. I may have shared some of this scene before, but I do love torturing my characters. After a tumble into an ice-cold river, Despard fights hypothermia and temptation.

Damp fabric clung to her curves. Peel away the thin layer, run his hands down her body, create a heat between them. Gods dammit, he wanted her. Did she even know what she did to him? Their few years of age difference had given him a much rougher education. He’d seen what other sell-swords did for fun, taking girls for prizes. Was that the kind of man he wanted to be?
Focus on a fire, idiot.
He trudged over the shifting pebbles. Hacking at thin branches with a dagger, he gathered kindling in a mental fog. Retracing his dripping snail-like track, he returned to Kahyla and a small circle of stones. The contents of the saddlebags lay scattered around her, in varied states, from mostly dry to damp to sodden. Pausing to dump the wood, Despard shivered in the persistent cold against his skin. The river water in his clothes sucked away any heat created through his exertion.
Kahyla must have seen him without trousers in the guild sickroom. She wasn’t watching so she didn’t care, didn’t think of him as an outsider but as family. The chill didn’t care who saw him.
Get on with it.

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 07/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Hard to find an elevator in fantasy, so I’m subbing elevated. In Abber’s home country, magic comes from demons and sulphur, but the cosmopolitan city of Bivmiav holds more frivolous views on magic.

Juggling small balls, a spindly old man muttered an accented mantra. As he finished each phrase, one of the juggling balls burst into flame with a puff of yellowish powder. The crowd gave a pleased gasp. Slowly, each ball disappeared in its own shower of fine ash.
Abber stopped her hand halfway through a ward against demons. Sleight-of-hand, she chided herself, and a little sulfur to make it smell like magic.
The crowd clapped enthusiastically and tossed coins at his feet.
She wished magic could be real. The power to change things, control over her life. Not married off by her father Baron Grath, or worse, by her brother, to someone willing to take a rural bastard. At least her nobility through her mother Lady Tamrin elevated her a little.
“Who among you would learn the secrets of my trade? Someone daring enough to risk their sanity for a spark of fire?” called the mage, darting intense dark eyes through the crowd. A mane of long black hair stirred in the breeze. His dark complexion contrasted against the sulfur-yellow folds of an Azervode overcoat.

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 06/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy WIP, Waking the Saints. Queen Lualih considers a former friend’s request.

“What does it matter? You won.” Tepaya’s face clouded. “I could have had a love match with Tauno. Begged my father to approve an alliance to a salt-port Baronny, even if Tauno didn’t inherit for years. But not if Tauno was sighing and moaning over you. Imploring me to help him sneak onto the palace grounds so he could see you.”
“And did you?”
“Yes,” Tepaya hissed.
Lualih shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “You stood by while they exiled me to Silvern, a backwater barony where Tauno couldn’t visit me.”
“No, I had nothing to do with that scheme. Blame Master Vayhne, looking to hold on to his power until your father could get a male heir.”
Lualih clenched the arm of her chair. She had trusted the King’s Advisor, but Vayhne had been the loudest voice to send her away. Lualih relaxed her hand. Vayhne had also produced the solution to her problems. He had found the bastard girl who could provide a route for Tauno’s suit, despite the terms of her exile.

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 05/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. While Abber focuses on transforming fabric into status, Kahyla and Despard consider the ramifications of their invitation to a court function.

Kahyla squinted at the page. “It’s dated the week we left Crossing. It doesn’t specify which Tamrin, so they didn’t know who would make it. If Despard and I had died on the bridge, Abber could have used the invite.”
“When is it? Have we missed it already?” asked Abber, reading over Kahyla’s shoulder.
Kahyla consulted again. “Thursday at the fourth chime. No date.”
“Great. I have three days to make our clothing fit for an audience with royalty. I’ll see what I can pull from Kirrik’s saddlebags to alter for Despard. Our court dresses for the Joint Council petition will need upgrades as well.”
Abber left the apartment and scurried toward the stables, muttering about ribbons and extender panels.
Kahyla sank down onto the bench. “Do we have an ally we can trust? Powerful enough to secure an open invitation from the princess for a rural gentry woman? Everyone is fighting over votes for the crown. Will we be pawns to them?”
Despard sat next to her, so close their thighs touched. Though there was room on the bench, she didn’t move away. “Tav’s master helped Abber escape from Bizal, tried to send her somewhere safe. It’s a start.”
Kahyla smoothed the crease on the smaller note. “A mage with enough training to far-speak across mountain ranges. A high-ranked Huxen noble with connections to royalty and a practicing mage. He’d be trusting us with his secrets if he contacts us.”

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 04/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. The soldiers think the Tamrin children will be easy targets during an ambush in the city.

Lunging forward, Niklos drove his sword through the gap in the soldier’s black armor at his left shoulder, a hands-width of blade disappearing into flesh. A shove followed, toppling his target back against someone in the cross street and clearing a path in the alleyway.
Dropping his charred bow, the unarmored bowman pulled a dagger from his belt next to the quiver full of Terrick green feathered arrows. The archer ran after Tebfin.
“Abber, duck!” yelled Despard.
Abber hugged the right wall as Despard threw. Knives hitting spine and shoulder, the bowman collapsed, twitching with red blossoms of blood on his back.
Pushing past Niklos, Vetal rushed to keep another stocky Grath soldier out of the bottleneck where the passage only allowed two abreast. As he looked up the passage, his muscles tensed and he shoved Niklos toward the passage wall. An arrow flew past, smacking against the alley wall instead of into the Blue’s skull.
With Vetal evading the archer, the stocky Grath soldier slipped into the narrow crossing square. A thick black leather chest piece with purple side buckles protected him while a dark metal helmet framed his grim face.
The cries of a younger soldier, scrambling to crawl out from under the soldier that Niklos had skewered, jangled in disharmony. Choking and coughing on his own blood, the dying soldier rattled in his shattered armor. The sounds faded from notice as the squat Grath soldier locked eyes with her. Momentum carried her closer as his heavy sword bore down toward her chest.

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 03/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Malgrim gets a surprise lesson in Huxen statecraft at the princess’s reception.

“Good day,” Malgrim replied in Ferruthan fashion. “I’ve seen you on the dais but you have the advantage of me.”
“Gentlemistress Kahyla observed correctly. I’m Master Vayhne, the late King’s Advisor and currently InterRex of Huxen.”
Malgrim’s shoulders jerked as he almost bowed again before he stopped himself. “Effectively King of Huxen. An honor to meet you, Master Vayhne.”
Vayhne waved his hand. “Only until the Baron’s Moot. As my good friend Xaln discovered, a king is only as effective as his barons and priests allow. For myself, I’ve been saddled with Captain Jan here as my babysitter.”
“Better than guarding a teenage princess,” the veteran Blue said. “She climbed out windows.”
A cough from the sticky bun crumbs overcame Kahyla.
“You have my sympathies, Captain Jan,” she said after she recovered her breath. “I seem to have more in common with the princess than I imagined.”
Captain Jan turned to Master Vayhne. “Definitely Corporal Niklos, sir. With five sisters, he won’t underestimate the task.”
“She hasn’t agreed to anything yet, Captain Jan,” Master Vayhne twisted his ring before continuing more formally. “The princess wishes to assign a Blue to you for your protection, if you’ll allow it.”

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 02/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Kidnapped in place of her sister, Abber shares opinions about sewing with the guard watching her, Bizal’s liege-sworn, Master Vetal.

“I’m almost done repairing these trousers. If you’ve found that missing button, I’ll fix your shirt next,” Abber said.
Vetal reached into his belt pouch. “Not the original. I traded with an archer for a copper button. It shouldn’t look too out of place next to the brass ones.”
Abber let a grunt be the extent of her opinion.
“I can get new brass buttons from the quartermaster when we reach Crossing,” Vetal said, stretching out to dry his boots.
Abber shifted her feet, bringing a clinking reminder of the chain that attached her ankle to the wagon behind them. “You’re assuming he’s gotten his re-supply from Escala. The passes may not be open yet for trade. Are you going to risk Bizal noticing the mismatch?”
Vetal tugged down his jacket. “I’ve got one good set, if I need it. More likely, some pretty girl in town would laugh at me, just like you.”
“Me? Pretty? No, you mean Kahyla and her big blue eyes.” Abber fluttered her eyelids and cackled at her own joke. At all the manor dances, the village boys had ignored Abber as soon as they saw Kahyla. It wasn’t fair, but why would Vetal be any different? She had never gotten her dance at the embassy ball.
“I didn’t notice her eyes, so much as her voice daring me to shoot her,” said Vetal.

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Reposted by Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸

📚 Ellie Rhymer! Spaceships and Scoundrels 📚 @ellieyellu.bsky.social · 24/04/2026

A guide to Always Get In a Spaceship With a Scoundrel, a queer, heisty, spicy, sci-fi romance manuscript. Good Heists. Bad Decisions. Great Chemistry. Are you its reader? 😍🌈🥵🌌🚀❤️

The first page of a pitch deck. A neon pink art deco border pulls words out of a romantic starry space background. This border and background repeat over the following images. The title page reads in art deco gold and neon pink: An editor's guide to -- Always Get In a Spaceship With a Scoundrel -- A Sci-fi Romance by Ellie Rhymer. Representation Christi Cardenas.

Romantic pink and sci-fi neon and stars: Pitch. Good heists. Bad Decisions. Great Chemistry.

Anora is the quick-thinking manager of an illegal casino, fleeing the assassination of her gang's boss with the hyperspace treasure maps thrust into her hands as he died.

Jayro is a mouthy interstellar smuggler from the wrong side of the hyperspace lane with the only ship that can get Anora off Hecate IV before the emperor's relic-hunting space witches close a net around the planet.

The two bad-at-feelings bisexuals try to tamp down simmering, inconvenient attraction as they are forced to work together with the scrappy, tight-knit crew of the Helle Wanderer to survive in the criminal underworld and discover the secret at the end of the dangerous maps.

Their love story is a heist and they're stealing more than each other's hearts.

Always Get In a Spaceship With a Scoundrel by Ellie Rhymer

Romantic neon pink and a starry background: Excerpt. “Those are pre-set…” Jayro warned as Anora toggled a series of switches at the nav computer and began actively moving data streams around the screen.
“Pre-set for scans for //stationary objects//. You pick out your nav programs like you pick out your paint schemes?”
Jayro felt annoyance rising up in him again. The cockpit was his domain. Never mind that he agreed with her about the deco. “It took Fish weeks to get those programs running!”
“Look, unless you want to meet an asteroid face to face, shut the hells up and let me work.” Anora frowned as she watched some data return from the program. “Call engineering.”
“Gladly.” Jayro opened the channel on his wrist communicator.
“Yeah?” Fish’s voice responded.
“The new navigator is having trouble with her—” Jayro broke off as Anora grabbed his forearm and yanked his wrist in front of her own face, causing his chair to whirl towards her.
“What on-boards are your pre-sets accounting for?” she asked into the communicator without a glance at him.
“The hyrdobeacon,” crackled Fish’s reply, “the fore and aft isotrope routers…and the gravitic drive buffer, I think.”
Jayro was frozen as Anora swiped at the nav one-handed. He could feel her warm breath on his palm as she spoke with Fish through his communicator, her hand gripping his forearm almost burning him through his flight jacket. She was close enough to smell the blaster emissions wafting off her, the sharp, citrus scent of the steam bath clinging to her skin. His fingertips were millimeters from her cheek and he wanted to cup her face in his hand and drag her around to look at him with those bright eyes. He wanted to play with the flyaway bit of hair that had missed her ponytail and brush his thumb over her lips until they parted.
What was wrong with him?
Always Get In a Spaceship With a Scoundrel by Ellie Rhymer

Romantic neon pink and a starry background. For fans of: Uncharted Hearts book series by Constance Fay (image of a three book series). Scum and Villainy (TTRPG) (An image of a book cover with a spaceship flying towards a jumpgate). Moss'd in Space by Rebecca Thorne. A Big Ship at the Edge of the Universe by Alex White. Rogue One: A Star Wars Story. #AnnoyanceToLovers #FoundFamily #QueerStories #DisasterBisexuals #ForcedProximity #Scoundrel4Scoundrel #NeverTellMeTheOdds #DualPOV. Always Get In a Spaceship With a Scoundrel by Ellie Rhymer.

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 01/09/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From Epic Fantasy WIP, Waking the Saints. Vayhne rose to power as the late King’s advisor, but secretly saves his fellow mages. The demons are real but the saints require a worthy body as a vessel.

Master Vayhne spun a witchlight against the teapot.
“Would you like more tea, Mehri?”
A breeze stirred the leaves in the secluded courtyard, safe from the prying eyes of demon-hunters. Pulled back in a simple coolan, Mehri’s hair stayed tidy and neat. More joys than worries kept her face as unlined as when they had first met, as servant’s children playing in the palace gardens.
Those many decades ago, four children playing in the garden. A prince, a gardener, a chambermaid, and a stableboy. Hanging upside-down from a branch, Vayhne had spun magic ribbons of color past Mehri’s face.
“Vay, what if someone sees you?” she asked.
“What’s wrong? We can all do it.” Vayhne changed the color to Mehri’s favorite shade of blue.
“How did you control the color?” asked Petro. Horse manure from his boots overwhelmed Mehri’s rosewater perfume.
“That book you gave me had instructions. Once I figured out the words.”
“The merchant from Tartuj said it was written in Azeran. How did you read it?”
Vayhne grinned. He’d always had a knack for languages. Xaln looked up from chewing a sassafras stem.

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 31/08/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Kidnapped in place of her sister, Abber tries to stall her ransomer, Archduke Bizal.

“Malgrim? That penny-strummer is her Paer?” Bizal sprang up and stalked the length of the wagon. “I knew I should have let Despard gut him when I had the chance!”
“No, no, it’s not Malgrim. The-The letter, send the letter to him. He didn’t know who we were.”
“Who is Kahyla’s Paer?” Bizal tugged at the rope, knocking Abber off balance and face down into the pillow scented with herbs.
It’s your last bargaining chip. What would Kahyla say? What did Kahyla say?
“Kahyla didn’t tell you.” Play on his piety, his sense of familial duty. “How can you ask me to betray my sister?”
Abber pulled herself up by the rope tied to the wagon bows. “Why Kahyla? What do you really want? Tell me the truth, or demons take the liar.”
Both men reflexively made a ward against demons, touching their mouths, shoulders then hips.
“Your sister is the key,” Bizal said. “Huxen needs a strong leader. The Baron’s Moot has always voted for the bloodline, no matter what the law allows. Princess Lualih has the bloodline. And your sister has the key to the princess. As the eldest, she has a daughter’s cottage?” Bizal paused long enough for Abber to nod. “I almost had King Xaln’s promise for Lualih’s hand but my stupid cousin…he’s Prelate of the temple, for saint’s sake! He got nervous the king might marry her to a heathen chieftain or that she might disgrace herself with that beardless puppy Baron Gooseport.”

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 30/08/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. The sisters argue about forbidden magic and Kahyla’s choice of Paer, a spiritual father, while little brother focuses on food.

Tebfin looked up from searching for a soup pot.
“Magic makes me happy,” Abber said. “Gives me something I can control, something that makes me special. I’m not lord of the manor, like Tebfin, or the perfect and responsible Kahyla.”
Abber rubbed the side of her head at the growing backlash headache from her rushed fire-lighting. Pain goaded her to lash out at Kahyla.
“But you’re not so perfect, are you?” Abber said. “You’ve got mage blood, like me. You shattered the scrying ball when I spied on you with Despard.”
“I’m not like you! Isn’t it bad enough you’re cursed with mage blood? I don’t want to lose you.” Her shoulders loosened. “Why can’t you let me be happy that I found Despard?”
Kahyla settled on the floor beside her, reluctant to meet Abber’s glare. “I asked Despard to stand as my Paer.”
Abber stared at her sister. “Kahyla, that’s not bending the rules, that’s breaking them completely. An unrelated stranger, a foreigner, and a heathen as your Paer?”
Tebfin dropped his soup pot with a clang. “I should be your Paer,” he said, puffing out his chest. “I’m your brother.”

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 29/08/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Despard rescued these weird foreign refugees from drowning in the river.

“How can I trust you? When I don’t know if you’ll respect my traditions?”
Despard curled his lip.
“Despard, if you could try,” Kahyla said, her thoughts jumbled. “I can adapt to Bivmiavan rules, but I need some small place like home. I could teach you.”
“You’ll skip the slapping part if I insult you,” said Despard. “Accidentally, of course.”
Kahyla glanced at her sister. “I’m done with that tradition.”
Despard shifted, leaning on the hip opposite his sword. “Where do we begin?” he said, giving her a Ferruthan bow from the waist. “Gentlemistress.”
Imagine he’s a lost nobleman, stumbling onto her step like one of the saint’s stories.
“May Parkith protect you while you dwell beneath my humble roof,” Kahyla said, returning a proper Huxen curtsy.

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 28/08/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Despard has gotten to know these foreign refugees and agreed to stand as Kahyla's Paer, or spiritual father, at her Dancing Day.

He closed his arms around her and in that one moment, everything was perfect. Nothing had to change. He could hold her forever and never have to think about her leaving for Huxen.
“I hope you can live with your choice, Kahyla,” said Abber quietly. Her glower at him softened and she placed a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “But congratulations anyway, if he makes you happy.”
Snuggled like a bird, Kahyla looked up at him with a shy smile.
“I can protect her,” Despard said hopefully, tugging her closer. “We can go back to Huxen with Malgrim’s caravan.”
We? Where did we come from? What am I thinking?
“What? When? I don’t–” she said.
“Come with us. Without your lessons, I never could have handled Bizal,” said Malgrim. “His caravan leaves for Escala next week.”

0223

Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 27/08/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Thwarted first kiss. Shared before, but it's the closest thing I have to drawn like a moth to the flame.

“I took his life, Despard. I don’t want it to become easy,” she said. Her hand twitched even as she looked to him for understanding.
“Easy? No. But sometimes necessary. If you hadn’t killed him, Kirrik would have murdered you and later Abber. You’re alive because you chose to fight. Gods help us, you won’t have to fight again, but I know you have the strength to do it.” Gathering her other hand, Despard watched her beautiful sky-blue eyes hang on his words. “Whether you fight with a blade or magic or words, I trust your strength.”
Kahyla sat straighter, her face turning to him like a sunflower tracking the sun. She brought her hand to his face. Her cool fingertips traced the laugh-lines at his eyes, then down across his smoothly shaved chin. Despard leaned in, drawn as though by a puppet’s string in her retreating hand.
Abber slammed the door open against the bench. “You’re in luck, Despard. I found a lovely silk lined jacket I can pick apart. Let’s get that burnt armor off so I can measure you.”
Despard jumped to his feet, pulling down his leather armor. “I need some air.” He pushed past Abber to lose himself in the summer afternoon’s heat.

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 26/08/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Songmaster Malgrim negotiates for a deal with the Huxen ambassador, who hates minstrels.

Bringing his fingertips to his forehead, Malgrim swept them out in formal introduction. “I present myself as Songmaster Malgrim of the Bivmiavan Guild of Minstrels.” Malgrim pointedly failed to introduce Abber. Like at home, she faded into the background as the elders talked over her.
Quill suspended over the parchment, Bizal allowed a ripple of disgust to mar his face at the mention of minstrels.
With a flourish, Malgrim drew one of the blush red Azeran pears from the basket. “Please accept this token of fruit as a symbol of Parkith's favor on your House.”
Bizal set down the quill, wiping the ink stains from his thick fingers with a silk handkerchief that exuded lavender perfume. “May Parkith protect you while you dwell beneath my humble roof, Master Malgrim.”
Malgrim’s shoulders twitched at the change in title, but he made no immediate reply. In a cloud of lavender, Bizal waved Malgrim closer with his handkerchief. Leaning against the edge of the monolithic desk, Malgrim offered the basket to Bizal. Rings flashed as he inspected the pears, jamming a fingernail into the skin to draw thin liquid. Picking a different fruit from the basket, Bizal slurped a large bite while juice dripped dark stains down his jacket. With a sigh, he put the oozing fruit on the edge of the desk, away from the documents.

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 25/08/2026

“You monster! You murdered a child!”
The stupid hat on his head jiggled as he looked away.
“I protect people from demons, not like you playing recklessly with magic. You are the madman. I’ve done everything you asked, but the work of freeing a saint remains.”
Drawing on his reserves, Vayhne snapped a fist of flames at Zorrik. A satisfying sizzle charred his beard before dissipating.
Dear Parkith, why did he keep doing this magic in front of him? Merely to elicit that ridiculous squawk?
“You wanted a powerful mage, you got one. Not some weak untrained child, but a disciplined master. Your walls may block the ether, but my blood carries magic. No demon’s-bane or red vine to fog my power.”
Zorrik patted the sparks in his beard with a shaking hand. “Sleeping saints, what have I done?”
Oh sweet, sweet panic in his voice.
“Sleeping saints won’t save you when your own comrades throw you into a cell and brick it up, left only with the hungry ghosts like Tarja to harass your dreams. Sleeping saints won’t save you when a vengeful army of Northmen burns down the city.” Vayhne stepped closer, forcing Zorrik to stumble into his tea tray, clinking with barely contained chaos adjacent to his ordered prisoner lists. “Sleeping saints won’t save you from demons, real demons, who want hosts for his children or a sacrifice to drain like cattle.”

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 24/08/2026

Medal = hero #WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky 💙📚 🪐📚 From short story “A Brief Stop on the Way to Sheol” Coric doesn’t like being legally dead. He buys an ID transponder from a dead woman, only to stumble into a mystery that only the murdered ghost can solve. May her memory be a blessing, not a curse.

Why do I keep these stupid leaves? No one believes what I saw on Ganges. The colonist told me I would see ghosts after chewing it, so I did.
Coric grabbed his left boot, wishing he could pull it high enough to close the gap to his high-water trousers.
I wasn’t hallucinating. The leaves made me hear ghosts. Zack told me how to fix the signal tower. What if Ganges isn't the only place to have ghosts?
Coric firmly pushed the thought from his mind. The dead were supposed to stay dead, not mess up the lives of the living.
Maybe he should have stayed on Cali bored out of his mind. Another techno-brat showing off at the mall parking lot in the family hopper. Living in the shadow of a father who got labeled a hero when he died.
Coric reached for the other boot. Hopping in the light Tuapse gravity, he shoved it on his foot. Following in his Dad's footsteps certainly got him more excitement in the Colony Guard. And lice and bedbugs and hostile colonists…
His sudden enlistment at a tender age had also gotten him many angry letters from his mother, terrified he would end up another dead hero like his father.
Almost, Mom. But not quite dead.
Coric imagined with bitter clarity his Mom listening to the death notice playing on the worn house computer still using Dad's voice algorithms.
"We regret to inform you (whir) of your son's death (click) in the line of–"
A knock at the door was immediately followed by a blast of cold air as the doctor opened the door.

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 23/08/2026

Album = journal #WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From Epic Fantasy WIP, Waking the Saints. Zorrik hunted down mages. Vayhne rose to power as the late King’s advisor, but secretly saved his fellow mages. The demons are real but the saints require a worthy body as a vessel.

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 21/08/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From Epic Fantasy WIP, Waking the Saints. Tam continues her report of her encounter with the Northman leader, where he killed selected prisoners. TW: violence, gore, child death

“The chieftain tapped the shoulder of a half dozen prisoners. A few villagers, some liege-sworn, the young mistress and the lady. The soldiers pulled them forward and bound them. They lifted them into the trees by their feet. A barrel was placed beneath the first prisoner’s head.”
Patrician Villanova touched his hand to mouth, shoulder and hip in a ward against demons.
“The herbwoman went first. A swift slice across her throat and a pattering like rainfall hit the barrel. She couldn’t scream but jerked as the blood matted her loose hair. One victim, then another, moving the barrel as they were drained like pigs. The liege-sworn who fought for his mistress never awakened from his beating. As the soldiers placed the barrel under the Lord’s daughter, the chieftain untied her gray coolan.”
Sleeping saints, not a child, but a mere toddler, a baby, not yet sworn to a girl’s white coolan.
“The Lord broke down, tumbling to his knees as he threw himself against the restraints of a Northman. Blood leaked from the rough rope around his wrists. He begged, pleaded, promised to lead them to the wheat bins and the wine cellar. But the chieftain merely laughed and stroked the girl’s cheek. ‘She has already told me everything I wanted to know.’ The girl’s eyes filled with darkness and her voice echoed through the valley. ‘Papa, the miller showed me how to follow the water to the big cave!’ The chieftain exchanged his dagger for a heavy sword. He swung at the child’s neck so hard her skull dangled by a few sinews. I have never heard a mother’s scream so full of despair. The Lady’s grief was mercifully short as it didn’t take long for the child to drain and the barrel to proceed to her death.”
A sob escaped from behind Baroness Tepaya’s handkerchief. Lualih blinked back moisture to maintain her royal dignity.
“May Parkith welcome them into His Eternal Summer.” Lualih formed three fingers into the flame symbol and tapped her heart.

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 20/08/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. After a magical attack, Kahyla speculates about their real enemy. Their last news from Abber had her riding to meet his leige-sworn at Tamin Manor.

The track forked into two. A wide path led to the Silvern Road, winding later through Norlan Pass and on to Escala. The other path with muddy prints showed the traffic of horses and people to Tamrin Manor.
Water dripped from the sloped roof of a guard shelter. An empty redbird nest lay tucked under the eaves. “This is where my father said goodbye to me when we left for Bivmiav. I wonder how long he waited before telling Lord Terrick to send his men downstream.” A slither of slush fell with a splat from the roof as Kahyla waited for another reassurance of her father’s innocence. Silence told her not even Despard would defend him anymore. Her shuddering breath brought sweet spring smells, full of the herbal scent of fiddlehead ferns unrolling in the shaded forest.
“I don’t know how to protect myself from falling back into trusting him. I want him to love me so badly, but I can’t trust him. I can’t wait for him to find some other way to get rid of us,” Kahyla said. Pain flowed through her, the hurt catching in her chest before it drained away. “He wants us dead and I need to protect Abber and Tebfin.”
“He thought you were dead before. He probably thinks you died on the bridge, not just my stallion from the caravan. It’s safer if he keeps thinking you’re dead. Ride on to Escala for Tebfin’s sake.”
“We only took provisions for the one-day ride from Crossing and we lost most of it in the river. We’d need more supplies for a journey to Escala.” Kahyla picked up the reins again, turning her horse down the Tamrin path. “If Abber is alive, I have to find her. How can I choose between Abber and Tebfin?”
“Walking into a trap won’t help her,” Despard said testily.
“I have to try! At least we know it’s a trap. Abber doesn’t.”

0241

Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 19/08/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Despard didn’t know Archduke Bizal might be Kahyla’s enemy when he took the job.

“I can’t, Tebfin,” Despard said, his hand brushing the dagger he’d bought with the windfall. “I promised Bizal I’d give him Kahyla’s location in the spring. I work for him.”
Tebfin’s face crumpled with disappointment. Despard didn’t resist as Kahyla shakily pulled away, brushing away his arms.
I don’t want to be the kind of man who kills for coin anymore. I want to fight like my redbird for something important. Like Saint Tebfin for a child in trouble. Little gods, I wish I could take back that deal with Bizal.
Malgrim took a loud breath and pushed away from the table. “We both made a bad choice, but let’s deal with the problem at hand. Bizal wouldn’t have to work too hard to find you, even without Despard. So why hasn’t he bothered? Because he’s afraid of Grath spies? We never found any. What does he want now?” Malgrim paused in front of Kahyla. “Why would Bizal want to hurt you?”
“Everyone knows Bizal wants power, the crown if he can get it. He’s killed the family of rivals before,” Abber said.
“But he seemed pleased to find out you were alive, even anxious to make sure no more Terrick assassins found you,” said Despard.

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 18/08/2026

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From Epic Fantasy WIP, Waking the Saints. Vayhne’s first experiment with the Saint’s Haven in Zorrik’s office.

Vayhne anticipated the sharp edges against his bare fingers.
“Are you read–”
A wave of bubbling pain, surging up his hand, tracing the inside of his forearm, contracting all the muscles with an involuntary twitch. Spreading with every beat of his panicked heart, the flame replaced his blood. Bubbles expanded and burst within muscles, itching his skin with a thousand bites. Encircling his heart with the press of needles, a crushing weight hit his chest. The armchair gave slightly as he arched his back. An icy finger pressed through his eyeballs and back into his head.
Oh so tasty, yes. More. Bring me more. I can’t reach–no–I can’t–
A frost descended into his lungs. Expanding crystals filled his breath and twitches in his diaphragm caused alternating pants and whimpers.
The latch is too tight, but you are perfect. I would claim you if I could.
The simmering in his legs and torso dimmed to an ache deep in his joints and bones.
Parkith’s Laws, I must ask.
A squeeze stopped his heart.
No, no, not again. I’ll stop. Greshan would know. Greshan the engineer. Find his notes.
Leaving a residue of pain like a snail’s trail of slime, the presence drained out his arm until at last his fingers tingled and dropped. Spots of light were slowly replaced with Zorrik’s vast desk and a brightly glowing ruby ring. Shivers racked his body, as though every thimble of warmth had vanished. His stiff fingers traced a pattern for fire.
Nothing. Spent. Empty.
A coarse woolen blanket enveloped him. That stupid round face hovered closer, followed by a bear hug.

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 17/08/2026

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From Epic Fantasy WIP, Waking the Saints. Zorrik has dedicated his life to hunting down mages before they can open a path to demons. Now he needs the help of a secret mage called the Raven to awaken a saint.

The Raven. A madman he had hunted for years.
From the card room, the braying laughter of Baroness Kalamaji echoed. Startled, Zorrik almost spilled dark liquid down his red priest’s tunic.
Could the Raven be a woman? The Baroness had the money to cover her tracks, but Saint Podru had mentioned a connection to the palace. The shipping family of House Kalamaji rarely ventured inland.
Near the archway to the Queen’s table stood a tense soldier in a crisp blue uniform. His belt carried a long sword on one side and a dagger on the other.
A royal Blue would be close to the king. Chosen from veterans for their bravery and expertise, a Blue could be clever enough. Zorrik snuck another look at the young soldier. The Raven had been active for decades but most Blues didn’t make it past forty.
Zorrik gripped his saucer and plunged through to the huddle of tables opposite the archway.
The mage must make his choice. What if the Raven didn’t come? Chose to strand him without answers. The Raven had to be here. Somewhere.

0231

Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 16/08/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Malgrim, a Ferruthan minstrel, brings Abber disguised as his apprentice to the Huxen Ambassador’s ball. In her native Huxen, Abber would wear a covering over her hair. First time Vetal meets Abber.

Guests crowded the overheated embassy hallways, mostly Ferruthan nobles, but also Bajans, exotic Azerans, and a few Huxen servants. Following the sound of viols, Malgrim quickly found the dancing. The quintet of musicians sawing away at a pavanne all wore House Bizal colors, receiving a disapproving frown from Malgrim. His eyes flicked over the crowd until he found a tall imposing woman wearing folds of yellow linen, copper armbands, and golden sticks within her piled hair.
“Stay here while I arrange an audience with the ambassador,” Malgrim said. He cut through the dancers in a perfectly timed break. “Don’t eat anything from the basket.”
In a moment, Abber stood alone, arms aching from the heavy basket. Inching away from the open archway, she set down the basket and leaned against the wood paneling. The swirling guests leaped through the next dance. A delightful smell of traditional soused herring wafted into the room, reminding Abber she’d eaten her frugal dinner long ago.
Stay close to Malgrim and don’t talk to anyone. Well, the first part of Kahyla’s instructions had flown out the window, why not the other part?
Between dancers, Abber spotted a turquoise uniform. “Excuse me, do you know where the food is?” she asked before the flash of blue-green disappeared through the archway.
The servant, no, not servant, soldier, spun to face her. Unlike the guests, he wore a sword belt. Brass buttons marched down starched linen while tall boots marked him as one of Bizal’s liege-sworn horsemen. Disgust wrinkled his nose before his face changed into the piercing attention of a hawk spotting a rabbit. His hand drifted toward her bare neck before he brought it to his face, twisting a magnificently oiled mustache.
“Alas, mistress, I have other duties at the moment than escorting you to the buffet room.”

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Tempest Teapot ❌ 👑 🐸 @tempestteapot.bsky.social · 15/08/2026

#WIPSnips #amquerying #writesky #epicfantasy 💙📚 🪐📚 From my Epic Fantasy novel Demon’s Bargain. Some weddings take place in a cathedral, others in prison, but the flame ceremony is the same. Possessed by a saint, Kahyla completes a loveless alliance marriage to protect her true beloved.

Tauno dipped the candle into the sacred flame, a spicy scent emerging as the yellow fire licked up the wick. Zorrik picked out an ember from the brazier with tongs. Kahyla touched her candle to the coal until it sputtered into flame.
“Make your oath on the saint,” prompted Zorrik.
Tauno gingerly placed his hand against the ring, his cool fingertips tickling her skin. He paused, waiting for some reaction before continuing.
“Before witnesses and a priest of Parkith, I, Baron Tauno Gooseport, swear upon Saint Podru, to join my life’s flame to you, Lady Kahyla Tamrin. My life, my honor, and my wealth are bound to you until Parkith’s Flame leaves my body.”
Kahyla repeated her version of the oath, then tipped her candle with Tauno to light the wedding candle held by Zorrik. The flame expanded into a brilliant blue with a push from Podru, then settled back to a cheerful yellow.
“Has there ever been a married Vessel, sir?” asked the clerk.
“Actually, Saint Anab came to her sainthood late in life and had a husband and several grown children,” Zorrik replied with the tone of a lecturing scholar.

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