C. C. Harper - Author

  In the savage belly of the city, where neon demons shy away from the shadows, sprawls the Obsidian Market. A mysterious realm muttered about in clandestine whispers, reserved for the shrewd and the fearless few. Among the sinuous alleys and veiled corridors, fantastical entities and nocturnal creatures gather like moths to a flame, drawn by the seductive pull of contraband and enigmas powerful enough to reshape destiny itself. This domain is a shadowy maze of secrets and whispers, where loyalties shift like the wind and danger lurks in the dark, ready to strike from the depths.  Amidst the howling chaos of the market, a young thief known only as Ash slinks like a phantom through the shadows, his footsteps whispering against the cold cobblestone streets. With fingers quick as lightning and a mind racing at the speed of light, Ash dances through the twisted alleys and dark corners, his gaze locked on a treasure that promises riches beyond the grasp of mortals. His prey: a priz...

Sometimes I wonder how writers survive writing a novel. I've changed my story, at least 3 times so far and I'm about to change it again. It simply isn't how I want it to be! So if you have been reading my previous posts, and other than the fact that the chapters that I published no longer look like that (I've been making some improvements... I think), well... the plot is a little bit different now and the story is already considerably longer. Yet, I do find some sort of solace in the fact that I do not have to live on my writings otherwise I'd be in a very tough spot considering the amount of time I'm spending on this story. Don't care much though. If it is not how I want it to be, then I make the changes that I think are appropriate. I know it's been a while since I last wrote something, but then I start thinking "who the hell am I writing for?". Curiously, the answer to that question is quite simple. I am writing for myself, pret...

One thing was certain, packing and unpacking exercises were extremely tiresome, time consuming, and usually caused a considerable rise in the level of stress of every living being. At least, that was how Kristie viewed it. After settling Megan in a bedroom of her own choosing – since Kristie had no wish to trigger some sort of unbearable teenage angst – she decided to enjoy a couple of moments of peace and quiet before going to bed. Lazily, Kristie climbed down the stairs and headed to the kitchen. She went to the cupboard, grabbed a wine glass, and unwrapped a bottle of red wine. “Here’s to you, Alice…” She quietly whispered raising her glass after having poured some wine into it.” Wherever you are…” She concluded while having a sip.

Edgar Kroes always felt uncomfortable whenever he had to visit Elwood. It wasn’t a social visit, but then again, it never was. The Dunhams were a wealthy but very reserved family. In fifty years since they’ve moved to Emerald bay, not once were they seen mingling with the locals. If they wanted something, they would simply pay up some carefully chosen people to run their errands or do their biddings, and all that was done through Edgar’s office. Edgar didn’t mind. They paid him well enough for his services, making him the most successful attorney in town. So eccentricity was something the Dunham’s could easily afford, and eccentric they were. But questioning was not his job, nor was he encouraged to do so. He was only there to provide satisfactory answers, and so he did. After being politely greeted by the butler, at the mansion’s front door, he was guided to Silas Dunham office where he patiently waited. “Mr. Kroes.” A calm voice came from behind him. “I trust y...

Finally free from the carrier, Jezebel stretched herself languidly on the top of the kitchen counter, her tail gracefully pending down, and her black fur shining in the afternoon sunlight. She laid there like a queen, resting upon a marbled throne silently awaiting for her servants to serve her. A stray black colored cat, born amidst the trash bins of the infamous city and saved by a puny little hazel eyed human female with a freckled face. Gifted with the most impressive feline intelligence, Jezebel recognized the hazel-eyed human female to be called Megan. But that one was not worthy of her trust, so she did not talk to her so much. The other human female, however, was a different matter.

As Vincent slammed the office’s door behind him, the entire building seemed to shake in fear of his anger. “ Why?” He demanded to know in a deep thundering voice, while menacingly advancing towards the service manager. “ New management orders.” The man replied as firmly as he possibly could while carefully moving away him. Vincent had an impressive figure whenever he got angry, which wasn’t all that often. Tall, slenderly built he wasn’t the kind to be easily upset, and he had always shown to be quite tolerant to other people’s remarks, never really caring for what they said about him. Truth be said, no one really believed he could get that type of work done. In the beginning, the other fishermen viewed him as just another pretty boy on a tantrum fit and who was simply not cut out for that job. For a long time, he was forced to endure their disdainful comments. Sometimes about his fragile looks, sometimes about his pretty face, or sometimes about the lack of facial ...

"Oh-my-God!" were the only words the thirteen year-old Megan Phillips was able to articulate in disbelief, while staring at the two story house left by aunt Alice. "The house needs a couple of repairs but other than that it is fully functional." Kristie Phillips heard the annoying attorney say while she tried to recover from the shock of such dreadful sight. "A couple!" Megan's voice hit a high pitched note as if she was about to jump on the man's throat at any moment. "The house is a wreck! Even the ghosts must have moved out by now!" the girl complained. "I beg to differ." Replied the obnoxious attorney waving his index at the young girl. "Miss Alice took care of her home til the day she died." Kristie was aware of the discussion going on between her younger sister and aunt Alice's attorney, but her eyes were locked on the somber looking house. The last couple of days had been a quite dramatic...