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Banabas Karuma
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With homemade chicken stock comes pulled (shredded) chicken. There isn’t an easier protein to incorporate into meals. I love adding it in pasta dishes and wraps. But nowhere else does it shine like in fried rice. The chicken would already be full of…
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Now I have Aunt Matilda, who talks to me like I’m a wounded puppy. The two video game warriors, at least, stay out of my way. But Aunt Matilda is a housewife, who’s always ready to comfort me when I’m at home. I feel smothered. The benefit of being an…
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When you put on the beta reader’s cap, your senses are sharpened. You can’t help but see all the “errors”. And the more writing experience you have, the better. And after the beta read, when you get back to your own manuscript, you’re hit by an…
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I always make sure to have chicken stock in my freezer. It has the ability to turn that, otherwise dreary, vegetarian sauce or soup into something spectacular. Who wouldn’t want genuine chicken flavour, but without the cost of a chicken (not to mention…
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My first traditionally published book is ready for launch, and it was a collaboration!
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“I understand you have an aunt, Tory Wellding, your mother’s sister,” she says.
Aunt Tory. She lives the detached life with her lover, free from the trappings of modern society and the responsibility of raising a family, according to mother. A glorified…
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Image: pixabay.com Writing your own novel has its challenges—creating a logical plot and doing all the research yourself, struggling with self-doubt, no second pair of eyes to spot your glaring errors, and all the pitfalls of not having an automatic…
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Download now (pdf, epub and mobi) Alternative download link
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She is giving me this look. It’s not a sympathetic look; I’ve had enough of those to know this is not it. It is more a questioning stare. She has been eyeing me like this in the last couple of visits.
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The water vanished as I was thrust onto damp earth. The flames of a large fire danced along the walls like wraiths taunting my very existence. As I cowered near the entrance to a cave, I saw the njuzu in all her stunning glory. She wrung her raven hair with long, delicate fingers, allowing it to glint in the firelight. Her smooth, eel-like tail lapped the waterfall at the entrance. But I knew I couldn’t jump out, I knew I was their captive until they let me go or slit my throat.

A wall of glistening grey crowned by a torso white as milk towered over me. The hair was black as coal and the eyes, the palest hazel. The stunning creature glared at me for no more than a second before diving back into the lake, its large, powerful tail…
Tranquil – a short story
Tranquil – a short story
zimwritersdiary.com
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