Menu

Prompts

Directory Contests Magazine FAQ

Apps

reedsymarketplace

Hire professionals for your project

reedsyblog

Advice, insights and news

reedsylearning

Online publishing courses

reedsylive

Free publishing webinars

reedsydiscovery

Launch your book in style

Bestseller Podcast Book Cover Art Success Stories

Tools

Book Promotion Sites Book Review Blogs Booktube Channel Guide Book Title Generator Character Name Generator Independent Publishers Literary Agents Literary Magazines Pen Name Generator Plot Generator Publishers Directory Short Story Ideas Writing Contests Writing Exercises Writing Scholarships

Menu

Prompts

Contests

Stories

Blog

Directory

Contests

Magazine

FAQ

Alexandria V.

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2023

Stories (3)

Comments

Library

0 Followers

0 Following

3 Stories

29 karma pts

?

Boon

Sandy Cricket owned the closest market to the house in town. What a name – I know. But she was the epitome of Boon. More salt than pepper strands of hair braided back, and a weathered outline of a heart tattooed along her chest. Sandy always made sure she wore a shirt cut low enough to expose it even though her skin was as tough as leather. Tawny with wrinkles as deep as a crevice. Nonetheless, she still had a bit of sparkle to her. Sandy always wore mascara and enough lipstick to leave residue on the filter of her half-smoked Lucky she left...

0 likes

Oklahoma

Warning: Sex, drugs, language I think he liked to fuck me because I’d fuck back. Because when he’d try to fold me over the dresser or pin me up against the wall, I’d give him everything I got just so I could get mine. I’d clawed his skin to pieces once. But that was nothin’ he didn’t ask for. There was always this built-up angst inside me, but by the time I walked out into the crisp pine air I felt lighter somehow. Like once we were finished, I transferred what I had to him. Rarely, it’d be slow. I ...

0 likes

Sunflower

Submitted to Contest #204

*Trigger Warning: Language, vocal impairment, insinuated violence.* “Now, I know you ain’t tryna steal my truck.” She was laid over his front seat, her head beneath the dashboard and her shoulders coated in the thick clumps of coffee-bean hair that hung past her waist. The olive skin below her shorts was nearly golden beneath the flickering signs in the night and her hands suddenly stopped moving once she heard his voice. The strip he was parked on was downtown. Lined with bars as far as a quarter mile down, f...

16 likes