July 4th excerpt:
“Is that the best you can do?!” Dean called over his shoulder, jumping to the side to get out of the way of grasping fingers. Stan hadn’t given himself enough room to maneuver next to the chair, and Dean was closing in on his destination.
And another story name is guessed! Someone guessed #sotw today, so a preview will be seen tomorrow!
Guesses are no longer accepted for #sotw, #ws, #don, #auv, #rt, #awos, #ababs and #teome! They have been guessed and previews will post, one per day, at 2pm est. You guys are on a roll!
Names that still need to be guessed: #atth, #bofa, #bah, #tttb and #a:asocs!
If all titles are guessed except for #a:asocs, we’ll reveal that one as a treat for such determination! Four more left!
By the time they reached the final doorway, Bowman was exhausted just from looking at every corner. The human shoved the door open and kicked it closed behind him with a loud slam. Bowman flinched, but his eyes were on the room before him.
“Here we are, little guy,” the human announced. “Home sweet home.”
Bowman scowled over his shoulder. “This is not my home,” he insisted. His wings twitched in a mix of irritation and sorrow. It had been too long since he could fly freely. “It’s just another stupid human box.”
We’ve gotten such fun story name guesses, I’ve made a masterpost with all of them! Correct guesses are in bold.
#don–
#ws–
#auv–
#bah–
#rt–
#bp–
Your amazing guessing skills continue! One letter off the title once again, earning everyone a sneak peek at the continuation of Brothers Consulted with–
A Burglary at Baker Street
Dazed and bruised, Sam was operating wholly on instinct as he heard someone entering the flat. “You son of a bitch,” he slurred, weakly trying to push Mark’s arm from where it was braced to pin him down.
Instincts guided his other hand, and Sam’s fingers wrapped around a familiar hilt. One he’d always kept at his side, but never wielded against another person.
In a flash, Sam’s silver knife was at Mark’s throat, trying to force a stalemate.
“Let. Me. Go,” Sam said, his daze shaken off by the adrenaline that surged through his body.
Mark froze at the cool touch of sharp metal against his neck, but his arm remained firm against Sam. He’d had weapons pulled on him before, but he’d never let any of them get this close. Mark’s breathing quickened, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes with every rumbling step ascending the staircase just outside the flat door.
“I-I can’t,” he whimpered.
He shoved his knee into Sam’s stomach, releasing Sam’s collar to jump away from the knife. Tucking his chin in close, he lunged again to land behind Sam, quickly grabbing hold of his arms and twisting them behind his back. His grip on Sam’s knife-wielding wrist was firm, yet he hesitated to deprive him of it.
“Please stop fighting,” he begged, whispering in Sam’s ear as the human outside drew ever nearer. “I don’t want to hurt you. He will.”
Sam snarled, suddenly resembling Dean more than ever as he railed against the inevitable. Even if he escaped, he’d never get away before the human got there.
“Do whatever you want,” Sam growled. “My answer’s not gonna change. Let me go, you sonovabitch.”
Trying to twist away, Sam found Mark’s hold on him too strong. He needed another way out. His mind racing, his lips moved to shoot out more sass and keep Mark distracted.
“So, what is this?” Sam asked derisively. “You’d side with a human over your own kind? Sell us out– For what? Some extra food? ” He snorted. “You’re no better than a pet.” Sam slammed his head back on his last word, aiming to knock Mark out.
Mark flinched back to avoid that fate, unable to dodge a solid blow to the chin. His grip tightened as he reeled back against the books again, the machine attached to him digging sharply into his ribs. He rolled his jaw and winced at the pain blooming across it.
It still hurt less than Sam’s words.
“I don’t have a choice…” Mark’s defensive protest trailed off as the door across the room swung open. If the human overheard him speaking out, Mark would really be in for it.
A tall man in a dark suit and tan wool coat stepped in, his light blond hair slicked back and his cold grey eyes glancing up from his phone to dart around the flat.
“Ma-ark…” he called in singsong.
Good try, but not quite!
The hint for this story is it’s a quote from the one and only, Dean Winchester.
If it’s something Dean never said, it’s not the title.
Go for the gold! I believe in you!
Guesses are no longer accepted for #ws, #don, #auv, #rt, #awos, #ababs and #teome! They have been guessed and previews will post, one per day, at 2pm est. You guys are on a roll!
Names that still need to be guessed: #atth, #bofa, #bah, #sotw, #tttb and #a:asocs!
If all titles are guessed except for #a:asocs, we’ll reveal that one as a treat for such determination! Five more left!
July 3rd excerpt:
Dean kicked at the second hand that was too slow to grab him, one boot grazing Stan’s skin as he launched himself towards the small round table that stood next to John’s armchair, aiming to use the space under the legs to gain some distance.
Stan cursed under his breath as Dean evaded his grasp, hurrying to his feet to circle around the side table and chair to wait for an opening.
( Original post )
You are all the reason why we write, thank you so much for this it really cheered me up. You keep us writing whenever life gets us down!
Bowman was helpless to stop his other hand snaring one of his wings in a pinch to force it open. It spread out against his will no matter what he did. Eyes the size of his head scanned over the green membrane while Bowman glared defiantly.
The human finally took his gaze off Bowman, but didn’t let go of his wing. “Dude. What do you want for him? I got like forty bucks in my wallet right now.”
Oh my gosh, that’s great! Looks like I shouldn’t be tagging things after a long, exhausting day of work! (This is why I usually do my blog upkeep on weekends, but everyone’s so into the guessing game, I can’t leave ya’ll hanging…)
However it happened, you earned a sneak peek of A World of Secrets! Which Jacob and his family just stumbled into!
If Sam could inch away from the two giants the pocket concealed him from, he would. The stern tone of voice Jacob’s mom had taken on was very familiar, and Sam couldn’t stifle an involuntary yelp of surprise. He heard it from his dad almost constantly. Dean was the patient teacher, John was the stern drill sergeant.
They were mad.
Sam put a hand on the hilt of his knife, drawing strength from the gift Dean had given him. Please don’t hurt me.
Jacob heard Sam’s quiet noise, and thought back to moments ago when the other kid worried Jacob’s parents would be mad at him. He was scared of them. Telling mama and papa about him would be breaking a promise and would probably make him cry. Jacob didn’t want to do either of those things.
He also didn’t want to keep lying. He was supposed to listen to them when they told him to do something. Jacob’s toy trucks fell to the floor and he pressed his hands against the wall behind him while the conflict practically dug into him. What was he to do?
“I don’ … don’t wanna be mean,” he finally murmured lamely, hanging his head but still peeking at his mother and father. His mouth was angled in a frown and his eyes stung.
“Hey, Jake, kiddo,” his father said quietly, stepping around his wife with care that didn’t seem to fit his huge frame. He stooped and braced his hands on his knees, peering at him with a serious but kind look. “You’re not in trouble, okay? I don’t know what got you so worried, but we do need to know if you’re hiding something from us, especially if it’s alive. Okay?”
Jacob stuck out his lower lip in a pout while he let his father’s low rumble of a voice sink in. He knew they would come and check his pockets if he didn’t give in. He thought he might have a chance at avoiding some trouble if he complied, and after a second his hands moved hesitantly to his pocket where he knew Sam was curled up in fear.
Now my new friend is gonna hate me, he thought sadly as he reached into the pocket and scooped his fingers under the small form to lift him out.
Brothers Apart 