This is a collection of all my entries for Fancy the Fiction 2021 & 2022.
Now a published book on both Amazon Ebook and Paperback. It has all the stories within, plus 2 new ones never before published on wattpad ("Fall Leaves" & "Old Crow")
#fancy...
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Silence had fallen over the house, every occupant having dispersed around the home to do their own thing. The kids were now in their rooms playing with their toys before bed time would sweep them away into slumberland. Her husband had drifted off somewhere in the garage to hunt down the last of their halloween decorations before morning, wanting to put them up while the kids were at school the following the day. How he could stand the cold long enough to do such a thing was beyond her, but she wasn't going to stop him. All was now peaceful around the usually chaotic home, perfect for her to disappear into a world of adventure and excitement.
The gentle sound of chafing could be heard as the young woman's socks moved against the soft carpet. It echoed within the silence while she made her way across the hall and into the living room.
It was simple, the living room was. The far wall housed the old fireplace that kept the room warmed in the fall and winter, while a large floor to ceiling bookshelf rested at either side of it. Pictures lined the mantel upon the burning flames, showing off the short history of the family living within the home's now peaceful walls. Books and movies mingled together on each of the bookshelves, but it was obvious to anyone looking that the books outnumbered the movies by quite a bit. Genres of every kind lined the shelves, offering a plethora of choices for the reader to choose from.
The light flicked off, but darkness did not claim the room as it so desired. Instead, a warm crimson glow illuminated the room, allowing its occupants to see within the dim light it offered.
Rounding the plush couch sitting across from the fireplace -a matching recliner sitting to its right- the young woman stepped in front of one of the bookshelves. Her dark blue eyes scanned the spines of each book, reading over their titles and deciding which adventure she would embark on that evening. She wanted something she could get lost in for hours, something to take her far away from the stressful reality she was forced to endure, day in and day out.
Slowly, the woman's fingers brushed over the tops of the books, each one a different texture against her skin.
Leather bound, hard covered with a paper jacket, the simple paperback. . . they all elicited a tingle of excitement within her. It started from the tips of her fingers and traveled straight down to the tips of her toes. To her, there was nothing more exhilarating than letting your imagination run free while reading the tale thought up by someone else's prominent imagination. There was nothing more fun than attempting to figure out how the author of your favorite book saw the story as they transferred the thought to paper.
A smile graced her delicate features as her eyes caught sight of one of her favorite titles.
Werewolves, fae, vampires, paranormals of every kind had been written into the book. There was romance and heartbreak, the testing of friendships, and a battle that loomed on the horizon. Its outcome would determine the fates of all immortals within the written story, however, the young woman already knew the outcome of the story. She had read it many times before and still loved it to this day, re-reading it over and over again when the urge revealed itself.
Carefully pulling the book from where it rested, she carried it over to where her chosen seat was. . . the couch.
The cushions were soft, much like a pile of fluffy pillows all converging into one location to create the couch she sat on. The young woman sank comfortably into her seat, nestling herself onto the couch like a baby bird would do in their nest. The woman pulled her legs up onto the couch, curling them beside her only to make herself more comfortable for the long read ahead. If she was to be reading for an extended period of time, she wanted to be as comfortable as she could possibly make herself.
Before she opened her book, the woman reached over and flicked on the lamp that sat at the corner where the couch and recliner intersected. Even with the glow of the fireplace, a little more light to the room never hurt. She wanted the best lighting she could get while keeping it minimalized at the same time.
As more light flooded into the room, she felt she had achieved the desired effect she was opting for.
Swiftly tucking her dark brown hair behind her ears, the young woman began wishing she had grabbed a ponytail holder while she had been up. However, she refused to get up and go look for one, not wanting to cut into the time she had to read or the comfortability she had achieved just seconds ago.
Slowly, she opened to the first page of the book, a shiver of happiness and excitement rippling through her entire body. The very feeling only intensified the moment her eyes landed upon the first lines written on the page. A permanent imprint of the author's imagination forever engraved onto the thin sheets of paper, packed tightly between the book covers. A compilation of the adventures and people that the author met within their dreams, the ones that never truly left them. It was the history of a world that could have been, that did exist for the few that were fortunate enough to experience it like the author had. The worlds that were only readily available for those who had plucked the book from the library or bookstore, excited to read about them just as she was.
As the young woman let her eyes roam over the worlds unfolding before her, she lost her mind to the story blossoming within her imagination. To her, she had returned to a home she had long since left behind, greeting old friends she hadn't seen in quite some time. She was being welcomed back into a world that had found a place on her bookshelf for far too long.
She had once more found her soul, hidden within the pages with every turn of them she made. For the time being as she disappeared back into the book she found home. She would grasp hold of all those feelings of belonging as long as she could, as long as the book continued to tell her its tale. Because, to the young woman lost within the pages of her book, it wasn't just any old story that she was reading. . .
