Stolen Goods – A Books of Binding Flash Fiction

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Color had always had meaning, especially among the fae. Blue and its dance of hues was for weddings. It wasn’t often seen in formal ceremonies. The fae didn’t habitually marry, because vows came with weighted strings. Green celebrated birth, no matter how or who. Even little calves and ducks would parade around with their modest, soft weed wreathes until they were finally broken up and eaten. Purest white was for mourning. Etienne watched the waning sunlight move across the wide stone windowsill, holding still for the royal dresser to wrap yet another layer of white, embroidered spider silk about his Read More …

Special Delivery – A Books of Binding Short Story

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Cian woke in the dark to an urgent rapping on his bedroom door. Winter’s low voice carried through the wood. “Cian, we’re on.” Cian sat up in bed, trying to parse that. On? On what? English wasn’t his first language and sometimes idioms — he hoped it was an idiom — tripped him up. He pulled his jeans on and made his groggy way across the spacious room to find Winter on the other side of his door, dressed in her usual loose dress and cardigan, her purple bag over her shoulder and her surgical bag heavy in her hand. Read More …