Light peeked under the hat. Bowman’s
eyes widened as the side slowly lifted, and he pondered diving underneath to
escape. A huge hand snaked its way under the brim and his nerves shattered.
Fingers the size of his body fished in the dirt, looking for him. Bowman tried to evade them, but
soon enough one of the giant fingertips brushed his arm.
A fearful squeak formed in his throat as
he tried to sidle around the hand only for a giant finger and thumb to pinch
the front of his shirt. He twisted away, but that grasp dragged him forward
several irresistible steps before the whole hand lunged forward and clamped
The skin was much thicker than his, to
say nothing about the strength of the grip coiled around him. Air fled Bowman’s
lungs and the hand dragged him out of his prison at last. It engulfed his body
from the waist down, with one arm pinned to his side. Bowman felt the human’s
slow pulse, heavy and powerful compared to his own, and heat radiated all
He squirmed with every ounce of strength he
had, and his wings twitched with him. He pushed as hard as he could on the
giant’s thumb as it lifted him up. The huge face loomed close, and Bowman did
what he could to ignore it.
By the time the giant was back at its
full height, panic had settled around Bowman’s heart like a cage. The giant
stared awkwardly at him, and he trembled every time he glanced up at those
enormous brown eyes. His attempts to escape didn’t bother his captor at all.
With no other options, Bowman let a
desperate impulse drive his actions. He leaned forward and sank his teeth into
the giant’s finger. The thick skin resisted his effort at first, and then his
sharpest teeth broke through just enough. A faint taste of copper came just
before the giant dropped him.
He fell like a stone, taking a deep
breath with newly freed lungs. Then, his wings snapped open and he leveled off
in the air. He hurtled towards the edge of the clearing with his wings blurring
in the night air to bank upwards.
No giant would catch Bowman Leafwing when he was flying.
( To find out what happens, find the book here: x )
Artwork by the amazing @featherpantsart
It’s time for the sneak peek earned earlier last week for our upcoming debut of Brothers Kept! Starring Stan and his new borrower, A Friend in Need is coming soon!
Under the watchful eye of Dean’s new owner, Dean tried to dodge the girl’s grab out of instinct. The sight of those hands descending sent his pulse skyrocketing.
There was no use in dodging. He stood a very slight 3.82 inches tall, as his records listed, and under 14 ounces. There was no way for him to fight back against even a single wisp of a girl.
The fingers closed in, expertly pinching around his chest to prevent him from running off. The ring finger and pinky curled around his stomach and waist, and he was left with only his legs dangling free, both arms sealed to his sides.
Dean struggled, his face going white as she plucked him up out of the cage and he saw the yawning abyss stretching out under his feet. Probably no more than two feet up in the air, low enough down to have to look up at everyone, but more than ample a height for Dean to be severely injured if her grip slackened. She could even claim it was an accident if she hated him enough.
The box appeared underneath, and those thoughts vanished as Dean was dropped inside, hitting the ground with a small cry of pain he tried to stifle. He leapt to his feet but was too late to try and get out as the darkness over his head sealed him in, blocking out all light except the four slim slits cut into the box for air, one on each side.
Stan somehow managed to turn his grimace into a friendly smile when the attendant stood and handed him the tiny box. He had to remind his stiff arm to relax enough to take it from her.
“If you’ll be needing supplies, you’ll find we have a wide selection of just about everything to take care of the little things. Plenty of nutrients in the food brands we carry, and state-of-the-art–,”
“Actually,” Stan interrupted her again, hoping he looked less green than he felt, “I just remembered, I’ve got frozen goods in the boot, I really should hurry home. But I’ll take care of it soon!"
Flashing her a grin, Stan tucked the box against his middle and headed out of the store before he could be physically ill. He paid no heed to her startled "Take care!” after him.
Artwork and inspiration for the story all from @wolfie180g!
April 20th excerpt:
Dean couldn’t hide a scowl, backing into a corner in the hopes of evading her. He knew it was hopeless, but he had to try.
The grab that came was quick and decisive. Instead of trying to pry him out, she merely nudged a finger against his legs, prodding hard enough to bruise the skin by his kneecap. With a cry, he tumbled to his knees and found himself swept up into a light grasp, a familiar hold used on stubborn borrowers.
*ominous music playing in the background*
April 9th excerpt:
A wood sprite’s eyes were nowhere near as good as a hawks, but Bowman’s bright green eyes were keen as they scanned the next section of the enormous, boxy archive. The many unfamiliar things he could see from his high perch threatened to overwhelm his vision.
He crouched low to avoid being seen, his every nerve on edge at the thought of a massive, unknown human looking up and catching sight of him. He trusted Dean, and he trusted Jacob, but no other giant had earned that trust so far.
March 8th excerpt:
Jacob’s eyes were drawn straight up into a more distant sky. Dean’s face was still framed by the green and gold canopy now a world away. He was over twice as big as he’d been before. Even leaning over, his intense green eyes were higher up than they’d been. Dean was colossal compared to Jacob now, and no amount of time with Sam or Bowman beforehand could have prepared him for the shock. Dean’s very breathing created a gale high above.
January 2nd excerpt:
John’s anger melted as Dean’s voice rang out from near Sherlock’s feet.
“Dean…” he breathed as he looked down at the tiny man, awkwardly shuffling to sit at the end of Sherlock’s bed. It still made his heart race to see either of the brothers on the floor. Dean had managed to catch their attention quickly this time, but John always feared the idea of him or Sam being unable to make themselves known to their larger flatmates.
December 30th excerpt:
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, doing his best not to cause too large of a breeze for his passengers, John looked to Sherlock. “Lead the way, then,” he muttered.
Sherlock stood and walked from the kitchen to the main room and John, holding his breath, lifted his hands from the table and followed. He stepped slowly and carefully to keep the ride as smooth as possible.
He felt like a bus. A giant, inefficiently shaped bus.