April 29th excerpt:

When light flooded into the small space again, Oscar squeaked in alarm and tried to push himself back without keeping his balance. He flopped backwards before righting himself and scooting away, one hand up to guard against the light.

He bumped into the other side of his erstwhile prison and flinched away from the fingers. A cry rose in his throat and he looked back and forth for some other way out of this mess.

He found none, and finally covered his face with his hands. The tears came in a tide along with a choked wail of fear.

“Oh no!”

April 8th excerpt:

After the thick glass clunked against the table beneath Logan, it didn’t take long to catch up. He pushed himself to his feet in spite of the adrenaline twitching through him, and planted his hands against the wall of glass around him.

There were some spots on it here and there from water droplets left the last time it was washed, but it was clean. It warped the view of the room.

“Hey! Fucking let me out of here!” he demanded, scowling through the dismay. His voice echoed so strangely in that tiny, clear chamber.

April 5th excerpt:

Jacob pushed a shaky hand against the fingertip messing with him, while the other brushed back through his bedraggled hair. His glare was tempered by the worry on his face when he looked up at the guy again. There was nothing familiar about the man, and nothing comforting in the fascinated gleam in those green eyes.

At least if he focused on that billboard-sized, smirking face, he didn’t have to think too hard about how high up he was from the ground. “W-what do you want?!” he demanded, voice still shaky with nerves.

March 14th excerpt:

A deep, gruff voice resounded around the room. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” echoed straight through Jacob, giving off an oddly-playful vibe. Of course, playful for the stranger could mean a whole lot of trouble for Jacob, considering the sheer difference in their sizes. 

The boots stepped farther into the room, and the door swung shut, trapping Jacob in with a stranger that seemed to know he was there.

February 12th excerpt:

This was so much different than the pictures Sam had showed him on the laptop, the people he saw through the screen were moving and talking like normal people, yet somehow they fit inside the box.

“T-there are people in there!” Stan exclaimed, pointing at the screen as he turned a distressed look toward Sam.

December 23rd excerpt:

Stan grunted softly as he landed unceremoniously in the bottom of the pocket, but for a moment he was too shocked to move. The human had spared him, trapping him in what looked like a jacket pocket instead of killing him. Stan had to wonder why he was allowed to live, especially as he clung to the material around him to keep himself from being thrown around while the human moved.

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.”

August 4th excerpt:

The moment those fingers closed around him, Jacob felt his heart skip a beat. Even knowing Dean wouldn’t hurt him or keep him trapped like that, he couldn’t help the bolt of pure instinct that raced through his system. Until Dean opened his hand, he was trapped, truly and completely.

No worries, the faq is not the most friendly for mobile! (There’s a mobile-friendly version here, but this isn’t in the faq anyway)

Dean would definitely be harsher, but he wouldn’t kill Sam right away (one of the times it’s really, really good Sam was found by Dean and not by certain other hunters).

He would likely close his hand around Sam much tighter, though, and confiscate the knife from him before anything else. If Dean takes the time to look at the knife, there would be a lot more shock and demands of where did you get this and Sam completely confused and winded by it all, likely ending up under a vase until they both realize why they have matching knives, and then guilt for the ages for Dean.