Imagine a place where Autumn is frozen at the very point where every tree is at peak leaf color, where the days are still warm with a hint of the winter chill to come, where the air smells of wood smoke and cider. Imagine a house tucked into this magical grove of orange, red and gold, perhaps painted in complimentary colors. Imagine a porch, and a table, and two steaming mugs of tea, or maybe cider, one for you and one for me.
Sit and stay awhile, and I’ll tell you a story.
9.28.2025 – And we’re back, right about when Twelve Sundays would start. I’d honestly decided “fuck it” a while back regarding putting the stories back up, but didn’t really have the spoons to unprivate all the posts until this weekend. The date was just extra incentive. Hopefully I’ll be able to add to/finish the WIPs soon.
Works thus far:
Twelve Sundays
An offhand joke about kissing leads Rose and her friend Ezra on a twelve week adventure in gentle kink. Hijinks ensue.
For Auld Lang Syne
(work in progress)
Saoirse returns to the valley to visit Esmé and Rose and to find some comfort in the familiarity of home and old friends.
The Longest Night In New York
(work in progress)
While stranded in the city on the winter solstice, Denni meets Holly, who proposes a night of madcap adventures.
Alterous Demonology
(work in progress)
Vin didn’t believe demons were real until he accidentally summoned one. And now they’re besties?