Mystery Writing Prompts: January 2017

Mystery Writing Prompts

With Red Herring nearing its conclusion, we’re going to have to work on some ideas for a new mystery. I still have a full length murder mystery sitting on one of my back burners. I frequently catch it staring at me in a hellishly judgmental fashion. Currently, I am focused on a fantasy story, with familiar characters to our readers, that has a completed outline and a freshly started first draft. One of these days, I’ll manage to finish one of the writing projects I have started.

Below, you will find three story starters to help you with your own mysterious story. Let us know what kind of prompts and stories you enjoy most! And, as always, don’t forget to share your stories with us!

Mystery Writing Prompts-Jan2017-The barrel of the gun was still smoking when the officer secured the scene.
The barrel of the gun was still smoking when the officer secured the scene.
Mystery Writing Prompts-Jan2017-A cold breeze drifted through the splintered door hanging loosely from its frame.
A cold breeze drifted through the splintered door hanging loosely from its frame.
Mystery Writing Prompts-Jan2017-Broken glass and paperwork littered the floor of the Queen's study.
Broken glass and paperwork littered the floor of the Queen’s study.

 

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Caught in a Spider Web Comic

Bayview (The first in a five-part flash fiction series)

Tipsy Scribbles

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Red Herring: Part 8

Start from the beginning

Read Red Herring Part: 7

Red Herring: Part 8 - FREE Flash Fiction series

Peirson escorted Charlie from the sitting room and into the hallway. As soon as the door closed behind them, handcuffs clicked together around Charlie’s right wrist. “What the–” he protested, but Peirson forced his wrists together and another click followed.

“You’re under arrest for the murder of Irma Patterson. You have the right–”

“What?”

“–to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“If you can not afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.”

“Jesus…”

“Do you understand these rights as they have been presented to you?”

“I didn’t do it!”

“Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes, I understand, but I didn’t kill Irma.”

Peirson turned Charlie around to face him, looking him in the eye, “Irma knew you were Jack’s father, and she was willing to prove it.”

Charlie dropped his head, “I know.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Linda works at city records. She overheard Irma asking for Jack’s birth certificate. We– Linda and I– assumed her next move was to tell John.” Charlie refused to keep eye contact with the detective.

“So you decided to make sure that didn’t happen?”

“Look, you don’t understand. John would have–”

“You,” the low voice came from behind Peirson. “You killed my Irma?” Kyle whispered from clench teeth. Peirson jerked around to find Kyle, eyes seething with rage. The officer in charge of guarding his room was gone, probably watching John. Peirson needed backup but he knew Kyle was mentally unstable, unpredictable, and very pissed off.

Without taking his eye’s off Kyle, Peirson gently pushed on Charlie’s chest, moving him back toward the wall. “Kyle,” Peirson said firmly. Kyle’s knuckles cracked as he formed and released his fists repeatedly and stared intently at Charlie.

Peirson walked slowly toward Kyle, trying to keep his body between the two men in the hallway. Peirson placed wary hands on Kyle’s shoulders.

“Kyle,” Peirson repeated and Kyle almost looked at him. His knuckles faded from red to white. “I made you a promise, Kyle.”

Kyle’s hands began to shake. He remained intently focused on Charlie. “My Irma is gone because of you,” he breathed, a single tear dropped from his cheek.

“I didn’t–” Charlie started to say.

For a split second, Peirson turned to Charlie, not wanting him to make the situation any worse. Peirson’s heart skipped a beat as he felt a sharp tug at his belt, near the center of his back. It’s worse.

Kyle thumbed the safety and leveled the gun.

Peirson lunged for his firearm, putting his full weight against Kyle before the gun fired twice. Peirson tasted the warm metallic presence of blood in his mouth and his head was filled with a high pitched ring.

Somewhere in the distance Peirson could hear the muffled cries of officers, “Man down! Man down! We need an ambulance!”

He shook his head drunkenly, trying to dismiss the temporary deafness. His tongue found the hole he had bit into his cheek. Kyle lay shaking and sobbing against the wall, cradling his arm. His shoulder was likely injured after Peirson shoved him, creating a sizable dent in the sheetrock.

Peirson reached down and picked up his gun lying on the floor beside the whimpering Kyle. Peirson re-engaged the safety and looked to find Charlie huddled by the door to the sitting room, trying to make himself as small a target as possible. Beyond him, a police officer, gun drawn and ready, exited the sitting room. There were two bullet holes in the door. Charlie, you’re one lucky son of a–

“What the hell happened?” The police officer relaxed and slightly lowered her gun when she saw Peirson.

“Later,” Peirson spat, harsher than he had intented. “Is everyone okay?”

She returned her service pistol to its holster and reached for her shoulder mic, “We need an ambulance on Alpine Circle. Shots fired, man down, over.” She looked up at the detective, “One of the rounds caught Mr. Carmine in the chest. It doesn’t look good.”

Continue Reading!

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Mystery Writing Prompts

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Tipsy Scribbles: For Elizabeth and Bob

Tipsy Scribbles

For Elizabeth and Bob

 

In last week’s Tipsy Scribbles I explained a project I had planned to work on for the next several months. This project is currently in motion and the Bob Ross Magic the Gathering land alters are underway.

Like all projects, sometimes a break is needed, so I grabbed some sangria and started scribbling. I would like to dedicate the first picture to my friend, Elizabeth, who has two pet turkeys. The male is named Pilgrim, and the female, Mildred. The second picture is dedicated to the amazing soul of Bob Ross and his love of small critters. Pea Pod the Pocket Squirrel is still my favorite. And the last picture is dedicated to myself and women in general, because home should mean comfort. Bras are not, and will never be, comfortable.

Turkey Walk - Tipsy Scribbles - A picture says a thousand words when wine loosens the tongue
Turkey Walk
Squirrel Sitting - Tipsy Scribbles - A picture says a thousand words when wine loosens the tongue
Squirrel Sitting
Home is Where the Bra Isn't - Tipsy Scribbles - A picture says a thousand words when wine loosens the tongue
Home is Where the Bra Isn’t

“Until one has loved an animal a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.”  Anatole France

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Mist (A Flash Fiction)

Writing Prompts: Dialogue

Premade D&D Character: Elf Wizard

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Dialogue Writing Prompts: January 2017

Dialogue Writing Prompts

The easiest way to describe a character is to let the character tell the reader everything they need to know. Dialogue is crucial to any story. This week, you will find four lines of dialogue to help get your story started. Two of these have been used among my flash fictions. Do you remember which ones? You can click the links in the captions to find out or you can have the opportunity to read the stories if you’re new to our site!

Let us know what you think and what you would like to see more of in the future! Please share your stories with us @hollhideaway or in the comments below!

Dialogue Writing Prompts-Jan2017-"You said turn right. Now there's no path."
“You said turn right. Now there’s no path.”
Dialogue Writing Prompts-Jan2017-"I had almost thought you were going to give up, lad."
“I had almost thought you were going to give up, lad.”
Dialogue Writing Prompts-Jan2017-"Why can't we ever catch the killer with the knife in their hands?"
“Why can’t we ever catch the killer with the knife in their hands?”
Dialogue Writing Prompts-Jan2017-"You know we're not all born with the ability to throw fireballs, right?"
“You know we’re not all born with the ability to throw fireballs, right?”

 

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The Surprise Party: A D&D Narrative

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Dr. Seuss Quote Comic

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Red Herring: Part 7

Need to start at the beginning?

Read Red Herring Part 6

Red Herring: Part 7 - FREE Flash Fiction series

“Mrs. Carmine?” Peirson called as he peaked in through the cracked door to the sitting room. “May I have a word with you?” Everyone turned to face him and he did his best to catch their expressions. Reading a room was more difficult than it seemed, but what caught his attention was John’s lips slowly stretching toward his ears.

Carol exchanged a concerned look with Charlie, then Linda, as she smoothly transferred the sleeping toddler into Linda’s cradling arms.

While waiting for her in the hallway, Peirson looked at the birth certificate again. He lowered it as Carol came through the doorway.

“Walk with me, please,” and he headed to the entrance hall. Carol followed but remained silent. When they had nearly reached the front door, Peirson turned to Carol. Her eyes were fixed on the floor and she was noticeably trembling.

“I won’t keep you long. It’s common for people like Linda to not do well with young children. Especially in this case.”

“Excuse me?” Carol’s stare lifted from the floor to Detective Peirson. She seemed utterly confused by the comment. She glanced back in the direction of the sitting room.

“How long have you and your husband been married?”

Again, she looked behind her toward the sitting room. She began a series of nervous ticks, first pinching at the skin of her knuckles and then adjusting her impressive wedding ring. She inhaled sharply, “Um… five, almost six years.”

Peirson nodded, trying to simultaneously jot down notes and watch Carol’s fidgeting body language, “And he is Jack’s father, correct?”

“Yes, of course!” Carol answered immediately, with a hint of defensiveness.

Peirson’s eyes scanned her silently and she returned her attention to the massive glinting rock on her finger. He pulled from his pocket the bagged copy of Jack’s birth certificate and slid it over her hands, “Irma didn’t seem to think so.”

Shock spread across her features and she gasped, “What?” She reached for the paper while looking back again, as if she feared someone was overhearing their entire conversation. She missed the evidence bag and grazed Peirson’s hand instead. The unintentional touch jerked her focus back around. Carol’s eyes locked onto Peirson’s and she stepped closer, wrapping both hands around Peirson’s right wrist. “Please, please!” she whispered with a quivering urgency, “John can’t know. He’ll kill me. And Charlie! And I don’t know what he’ll do to Jack–” Tears formed in her eyes and her chin began to quiver. “Please, you have to help me,” she pleaded.

Peirson tried to gently pry her shaking hands from his wrists, but she held her grip. She was terrified and he knew he wasn’t getting anything else from her unless she felt safe. He placed his other hand on her shoulder, “I’m going to keep you and your son safe, Mrs. Carmine.” As if on cue, Jackson stepped through the front door.

“Oh, hey! Everything ok in here?” Jackson looked down at Carol’s grip on Peirson’s arm. “I was about to head out, unless you need me to hang around.”

“Please take her to the station and see to her safety,” Peirson told Jackson, then he leaned in so only the officer could hear, “she fears for her life.”

“Yes, sir,” Jackson said with a nod and offered his arm to Carol.

Carol stopped, “Jack–”

“I’ll have Linda bring him out,” Peirson said as he watched Jackson escort her under the yellow tape draped loosely across the entrance doorway. A flash of lightning lit up the darkening sky as Peirson turned back to the sitting room. Thunder echoed through the house, followed by distant heated voices.

“You philandering piece of shit!” John yelled out.

Peirson ran the rest of the way to the sitting room.

An officer, nearly a head shorter than John Carmine, was trying to hold John back from Charlie, who was on the edge of his solitary chair. Charlie appeared torn between fear and mirth as he glared defiantly at John, debating on whether or not to take the bait.

Charlie shot up from the chair, but remained at a safe distance. “You, of all people, have no right to make moral judgements!”

John wrenched his arms free of the officer’s grip and followed through with a wide swing of his fist. The officer’s knees buckled from the impact, then he collapsed unconscious. John took two steps towards Charlie and froze. His clenched fists relaxed and slowly lifted up to his ears. Five handguns were silently sighted on him.

“Don’t move,” an officer demanded as he walked over to lock John in handcuffs.

Jack was crying, despite Linda’s attempts to calm him. She stood with her back pressed against the wall beside the door Peirson had just entered. Peirson stepped out of the doorway and whispered, “Carol is waiting for Jack out front.”

Linda’s wide eyes fell on Peirson. She hesitated long enough to look back towards Charlie. She nodded and left the room without saying a word.

Peirson waited until he heard the door shut behind Linda, then crossed the room to Charlie, who was still standing by the chair, “I think it would be best if you came with me, Mr. Whittmore.”

Continue Reading!

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Tipsy Scribbles: Doodle Day

Tipsy Scribbles

Doodle Day

After making the big leap into my Magic the Gathering/Bob Ross project, now I am forced to wait for materials to arrive. In the meantime my creative itch must be scratched, or scribbled in this case. Here are some doodles I have whipped up. The first is from a drawing book for children (and children at heart) titled Let’s Draw. It is a good drawing journal for all ages and all talents. The second picture is something I would like to have made into a sticker, car decal, or mug someday. Cat hair and fashion go together like, well in all honesty, like metal to magnets. Anyone who has a cat (or multiple cats) will tell you there is no way to own and wear clothes without cat hair clinging to every thread. And because we love our cats dearly, we wear their velvet fuzz with pride. As the saying goes “if you got it, flaunt it”.

I'm Fine - Tipsy Scribbles - A picture says a thousand words when wine loosens the tongue
I’m Fine from the book Let’s Draw
Cat Hair and Flair - Tipsy Scribbles - A picture says a thousand words when wine loosens the tongue
Cat Hair and Flair

“Women and cats will do as they please…”   Robert A. Heinlein

Prior-Reeves, Frances, and Carol Seatory. Let’s Draw. Parragon Books. 2012.

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Kids Writing Prompts: January 2017

Kids Writing Prompts: January 2017

We received feedback from Pinterest that writing prompts were really helpful in sparking the creative imaginations of children. One woman said she uses writing prompts as her new “kill time while waiting for our food at restaurants” game. After reading that, we felt a little guilty that most of our prompts are more easily set to darker stories. So, Sarah, I hope these five writing prompts are better suited to your daughters, and a younger audience in general.

We will try to provide more child friendly story starters once a month, in hopes that more creative games can be played. Please share your stories with us. We really do appreciate any and all feedback that our readers can provide!

Kids Writing Prompts-Jan2017-When she opened her eyes, her birthday wish came true.
When she opened her eyes, her birthday wish came true.
Kids Writing Prompts-Jan2017-This time, it was the princess's turn to rescue her dragon.
This time, it was the princess’s turn to rescue her dragon.
Kids Writing Prompts-Jan2017-These vegetables came from a special garden and gave anyone who ate them magical powers.
These vegetables came from a special garden and gave anyone who ate them magical powers.
Kids Writing Prompts-Jan2017-Sky giants jumped up and down on the storm clouds, throwing lightning bolts into the air.
Sky giants jumped up and down on the storm clouds, throwing lightning bolts into the air.
Kid's Writing Prompts-Jan2017-And that's what happens when you're raised by pirates.
And that’s what happens when you’re raised by pirates.

 

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27 Lessons I’ve Learned in 27 Years of Life

Tipsy Scribbles: Kid Scribbles

Brix (A Flash Fiction)

Sketch For My Niece

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Red Herring: Part 6

Need to start at the beginning?

Read Red Herring Part 5

Red Herring: Part 6 - FREE Flash Fiction series

“You can’t be serious, officer,” John said with a laugh.

“Detective,” Peirson corrected,”and, yes, I’m quite serious.”

John took a step closer to Peirson, using his considerable height in an attempt to intimidate. “Look, detective, I’m not telling you how to do your job or anything, but why the hell would I kill a girl in my own damn house?”

Peirson, stepping over to block the doorway, shrugged his shoulders. “You tell me.”

John shook his head. “This is ridiculous. I can guarantee you that it was not me.” Then John’s voice grew very quiet as he leaned towards Peirson. “What can I do to help you wrap this investigation up quick and quiet like?”

“You can answer my questions,” Peirson stated.

John looked around the small bathroom and nodded at the blocked exit. “The bird’s already caged, might as well sing for you, too.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But seriously, I need this kept as quiet as possible. Your boys have already lit up the neighborhood with those gaudy strobe lights. I run the biggest business in the city, my deceased father’s business. I sure as hell don’t need this kind of publicity. I think we can help each other out on this one.”

Peirson stared in disbelief at John for a moment before confirming what he just heard, “Are you offering me a bribe during a murder investigation?”

“No,” John barked an overzealous laugh, “of course not, detective. That would be illegal and immoral.” He dramatically placed a strong hand on Peirson’s shoulder and bared a toothy grin. “A bribe? Come on, I’m a respectable man.” He made a show of composing himself after Peirson squirmed under the weight of John’s grasp. “We’ve gotten off topic. The matter of the poor girl’s death needs to be resolved.”

“When was the last time you spoke with Irma?” Peirson asked in a flat tone to reflect his disparagement with this arrogant moron.

“A few hours ago,” John answered immediately, “in the kitchen.”

Peirson dropped his head with a furrowed brow. “Where she was murdered?” The sentence crept out, emphasizing the irony of John’s statement. Was this guy seriously this dumb?

“She was alive when I left her.” John retorted. “She was getting Jack some juice. I guess I kept her too long ’cause Jack started crying upstairs. The kid’s got a hell of a shriek, like nails on a chalkboard.” Peirson’s mouth slightly gaped open in shock at that last statement. “Anyway, I told her to calm down then I took the juice up to Jack myself.”

Peirson stopped scribbling halfway though the explanation to watch John’s body language. John’s arms remained crossed in front of him as he stared towards the hallway beyond Peirson during his explanation. “Would you like to elaborate on any of the details you’ve left out?”

“Damn, you’re good, detective. Fine. I was flirting with her. She was a hot piece of–”

Detective Peirson cleared his throat to steer John back on track.

John continued as if he was not interrupted, “…shame, really. But she got all pissy about me being ‘too forward’ and a ‘chauvinist pig’,” John explained, offering air quotations and a dramatic bob of his head. “Obviously, I didn’t need another whistle blower, so I took the juice upstairs and left her to sneak one of her cigarettes.”

“Sneak?” Peirson asked.

“She leaves her purse in the kitchen. I see her sneak in there all the time then out the back door.”

Peirson pressed the line of questions, “But you never saw her leave the kitchen or smoke?” This guy was going to have a legitimate alibi, son of a…

“Nope. She was heading for her secret stash when I rushed off to silence the screaming banshee,” John explained. “I was on the phone with a manager from the plant while walking Jack around when the police sirens announced their presence to the entire neighborhood.”

“Very well,” Peirson said and stepped back into the hallway, allowing John to move back towards the sitting room. “Anything else?”

John stopped halfway between Peirson and the police officer. He glanced over his shoulder. “Carol was adamant about having Linda and Charlie over for dinner tonight. You might want to lock them in the bathroom and see what you can detect, detective.” Then he continued towards the sitting room.

The police officer closed the door behind John and nodded at Peirson. “Did the asshole do it?”

“Detective,” the brunette photographer called from the other end of the hallway. “I’ve got something for you. I found it in the victim’s purse.”

Peirson quickly took the evidence bag. “Thank you, Allison.”

She shook her head. “Nope. But keep trying, sir. You’ll figure it out eventually. It’s your job,” and with a playful wink she turned and walked away.

Peirson sighed, “I am definitely too old for this,” and he turned the evidence bag over. It contained a single sheet of paper. A copy of a birth certificate for Jack Carmine, and at the bottom of the sheet was a black and white photograph of a familiar face with the curving letters of Irma’s handwriting: “Charlie?”.

Continue Reading!

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Tipsy Scribbles: Kid Scribbles

Forgiveness (A Flash Fiction)

Bayview Residence Map

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Tipsy Scribbles: Bob Ross Lands, January 11, 2017

Tipsy Scribbles

Bob Ross Style Magic the Gathering Lands

 

For all of my return readers, all 5 of you, welcome back! To all the new readers, welcome to Tipsy Scribbles! If you like what you see today, check out my other posts here, or find me on Twitter and Facebook @tipsyscribbles.

Now let’s leave the small talk section and get down to the scribbles. Lately, I have not been tipsy on wine due to what most people call the crud, or a common cold, what have you. I like to call it bull squat (edited for the faint of eyes) and I have been sucking back on some cough syrup. It must be pretty strong stuff, because, according to my husband, I said some weird things. Something about a taco party, but that’s not important. In my cough syrup haze, I stumbled upon a man’s (Justin Tesla) idea for Bob Ross themed Magic the Gathering basic land cards. For those of you reading that do not know who Bob Ross is, I have provided a link here to watch his amazing shows, via the miracle of YouTube. For the readers who do not know what Magic the Gathering is, I have provided a link here to their website. But in all honesty, if you’re just here for the art, you may skip all that.

Now, in my sickly condition I attempted this new Bob Ross Magic Project, so obviously, what I am about to show you is practice. But this is a project my husband and I have become dedicated to. After a few more practice cards, and taking in suggestions from Magic the Gathering fans on their preference on land alters, I will be creating sets for purchase. These sets should be ready before Christmas 2017, so keep a look out!

And I have also included a chalk pastel for my regulars, love and thanks to all of you!

Magic the Gathering Basic Land Forest Alter Bob Ross Style, Acrylic - Tipsy Scribbles - A picture says a thousand words when wine loosens the tongue.
Magic the Gathering Basic Land Forest Alter Bob Ross Style, Acrylic
Magic the Gathering Basic Land Island Alter Bob Ross Style, Acrylic- Tipsy Scribbles - A picture says a thousand words when wine loosens the tongue.
Magic the Gathering Basic Land Island Alter Bob Ross Style, Acrylic
Magic the Gathering Basic Land Mountain Alter Bob Ross Style, Acrylic- Tipsy Scribbles - A picture says a thousand words when wine loosens the tongue.
Magic the Gathering Basic Land Mountain Alter Bob Ross Style, Acrylic
Magic the Gathering Basic Land Plains Alter Bob Ross Style, Acrylic- Tipsy Scribbles - A picture says a thousand words when wine loosens the tongue.
Magic the Gathering Basic Land Plains Alter Bob Ross Style, Acrylic
Magic the Gathering Basic Land Swamp Alter Bob Ross Style, Acrylic- Tipsy Scribbles - A picture says a thousand words when wine loosens the tongue.
Magic the Gathering Basic Land Swamp Alter Bob Ross Style, Acrylic

 

Afternoon Coffee Chalk Pastel on Paper - Tipsy Scribbles - A picture says a thousand words when wine loosens the tongue.
Afternoon Coffee

 

“I tell people, ‘You can do this.’ And they write back and say, ‘You were right. I can do this. And now I believe I can do anything.'” – Bob Ross

 

More From Holloway’s Hideaway!

Red Herring Part 1 (A Flash Fiction)

How To Comic: Plan a Get-Together

The Surprise Party (A D&D Narrative)

Fantasy Writing Prompts (November 2016)

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Fantasy Writing Prompts: January 2017

Fantasy Writing Prompts

It has been a rough few weeks here at the Hideaway. Les and I are taking turns being sick. ‘Tis the season, as they say. I’m returning to my favorite genre of our writing prompts since it has been a couple of months since the last fantasy set. I’m not particularly good with pairing up colors but I’m letting the artist sleep in so these are what you all are stuck with; hope they are not an eye sore.

Share your stories with us in the comments below or join us at Facebook and Twitter!

Fantasy Writing Prompts-Jan 2017-The aging warrior's fighting days were at an end. So he thought.
The aging warrior’s fighting days were at an end. So he thought.
Fantasy Writing Prompts-Jan 2017-A ball of fire streaked through the morning sky. "Alert the dwarves at once."
A ball of fire streaked through the morning sky. “Alert the dwarves at once.”
Fantasy Writing Prompts-Jan 2017-The field was covered in various weapons and pieces of armor, but no bodies. Not a single drop of blood.
The field was covered in various weapons and pieces of armor, but no bodies. Not a single drop of blood.

 

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Tipsy Scribbles

Brix (A Flash Fiction)

27 Lessons I’ve Learned in 27 Years of Life

Premade D&D Character: Dwarven Cleric

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