December 1st excerpt:

Dean hesitated when he heard the small voice cut across the quiet morning air.

Logan.

He’d become so tied up in his repairs, he’d forgotten all about the other hunter. A smile quirked at the edge of his lips as a thought occurred to him.

Logan probably wouldn’t like it.

How about a smol jacob and bowman? Maybe in Brothers adopted or something

Smol Jacob will definitely meet his winged bestie in the future, even if they don’t know they’re destined to be buddies at the time!


“Hey,” Sam said softly, keeping his voice down to avoid waking either of the humans sleeping close by. He crept forward, getting close enough for Bowman to see them clearly in the light of the dying flames and held out his hands. It was a gesture he’d seen Dean do many times before, to prove he meant no harm.

It wouldn’t work for the hunter in this situation, with his hands alone a threat to the small sprite, but for Sam it should suffice.

“My name’s Sam, and this is my brother Jacob,” he introduced. “We were hoping to talk to you.”

Jacob nodded in agreement. “Just a talk. No humans listening in. Sound alright?”

Bowman stared between them as he contemplated. Finally, his wings relaxed and stopped crowding the glass walls around him. His shoulders slumped and his exhaustion from a stressful day became more obvious. “You … you two live in that one’s pocket,” he said, gesturing at Dean. “Why would you wanna stay in there?”

April 24th excerpt:

Sam looked back to find that the tiny kid he’d discovered running for hiding, and his hunting instincts kicked into high gear.

The kid might look small, and might be harmless, but as John Winchester had told Sam a thousand times, might meant nothing if someone got killed over it. If Sam couldn’t find out for sure this kid was harmless, he needed to treat him as a possible threat. And that meant he couldn’t let him vanish into hiding and possibly lose track of him.

January 19th excerpt:

Glancing surreptitiously around the corner of the library he’d squirreled himself away in, Sam flicked his wrist, snapping his knife into his hand. With a quick motion, he flipped it open and pried off the little plastic strip that would set off the alarms in the library, securing it to a book on fae he had placed to the side. When he left, a certain book would be coming with him, their best lead so far on Stan’s past. A children’s book.

Stan gave a small start as a knife suddenly appeared in Sam’s hand, with a blade longer than he was tall. That was the last thing he expected to happen, but he reminded himself that he was with hunters now. Though he didn’t know their ways just yet, Stan had a pretty good idea of their love of weapons. His glimpse into the trunk the night before had been proof enough of that.

December 20th excerpt:

Stan’s frantic run stuttered at the tremble of the aftershocks of the hunter’s impact through the floor. He glanced over his shoulder at the sudden threat that had invaded their home, and regretted it immediately. He thought he’d been terrified before just feeling the tremors of each step of the hunters’ entrance, hearing their deep, rumbling voices that seemed to vibrate the very air and send shudders through the smaller man’s chest.

But looking back…

Just looking straight on, he could see enormous boots well past Nicholas’ shoes. Rugged jeans seemed to rise straight into the sky from them, and Stan didn’t dare look up to see who they were attached to.

December 19th excerpt:

Stan’s blood ran cold as it sank in. Hunters! Without question, he turned and ran full tilt, keeping to the wall as Nicholas stood to face the men who had barged into his home and dared take on a witch.

November 4th excerpt:

Jacob couldn’t help one more glance at the table before he headed out the door, watching Sam set back down to research. It grated against him to leave someone so small and vulnerable alone in the room. A distant memory returned to him, of the first time he’d ever contacted Sam and Dean over the phone. Dean’s proud, stubborn voice insisting that Sam was a hunter in his own right.

And no one will ever say differently.

October 27th excerpt:

“The hunter’s companions remain at large, but are a negligible threat. One is a local teenager, most likely the one to call them in, the other is the size of the sprites, but lacks any of the magic. Once the tests pay off, we’ll be able to handle them.”

Sneak Peek

A few story titles were guessed before we started posting the sneak peeks to go along with them, so with no further ado I present Clash of the Hunters!


The second Jacob’s hands were on the cage, Dean was on the move.

As dangerous as it was to attack with Sam still in the line of fire, there would be no better chance. The hunter had lost his gun. Jacob was free and had his hands on the cage containing the sprite, reducing the chances of collateral damage of a fight between the older hunters.

Sam knew the risks as well as Dean.

So while Jacob was backing off from the hunter with Bowman safe, Dean was already sprinting through the field. Long legs covered the ground that had taken Sam a half hour to cross in seconds. His boots dug fissures in the ground with the force of striking the ground, all to propel him towards his enemy. It was enough that if any of the sprites were in his way, there would be nothing left of them.

But they knew when to keep clear and when to attack. Scar was a good leader, and would see his opening just as Dean had found his.

The hunter hadn’t fully turned in Dean’s direction when there was suddenly a fist slamming into his jaw. Dean didn’t waste a second in his attack. The man was thrown backwards from the force, and his pocket slammed away with him. Only a passing guilt hit at the fact that Sam was about to be in the center of two dueling humans. He would do what he could to keep Sam safe, even during the deadly fight.

It was for this reason that he didn’t use his knife right off the bat. Instead of a vicious follow-up, Dean’s hands sealed around the other hunter’s wrist, preventing him from falling at the same time as he prevented a counterattack. Either could be disastrous for Sam.

“You think you can come in here and terrify a bunch of peaceful sprites?” Dean snarled. “Threaten to cut their wings off and trap them in cages? This forest is under my protection.”

A flurry of leaves blew up around them as the wind kicked up.

“Mine. And theirs.”

September 13th excerpt:

One giant walking in the woods makes a racket, but two is almost enough to chase even the clouds away,” Bowman groused, though there was a smirk in his eyes.

“We’ve already been over my ‘stalking’ skills, haven’t we?” Dean asked sternly, the glint in his eyes belying the serious tone he’d taken. He cracked the first grin he’d had that day, glad to see their old friend, hale and hearty despite the trials of the last few weeks. Sam and Dean had very few people they’d consider friends, and Bowman was one of the exceptions who knew and associated equally with both brothers. “Good to see ya, small fry.”