A quiet afternoon is infinitely more interesting when you add a young man who claims to be a time-traveler, a half-completed shopping list, and an unhealthy amount of sarcasm. {Written 2014}

Some basic writing tips to help you become a more effective storyteller.

Judith Wagner didn't want to talk to the dead, but the dead didn't really give her a say in the matter.

She was a wounded beast, ridiculed by Second Salemers. He was a simple passerby, just wanting to help. She never expected to be helped by anyone for that matter, let alone an expert of what she was. And he . . . He never expected to find the love of his life.

Grindeldore is back.... 98 years later .... what will happen? Who will understand? Who's in danger? And who is dying?

A classic 1940's style mystery... "Secretary Murders Widowed Mistress in Adelaide Love Nest!" Vivian Sherlock glanced from the screaming headline on her daily newspaper to the pale young man sitting on the other side of her desk. "Nigel is innocent!" insisted the young man.

****Copyrighted**** 'Tell me you don't feel it.' He whispered against my lips, and the trembling that had ceased at the feel of his lips against mine began again with renewed vigor. 'Tell me it's not what you want, and I'll go. You'll never have to see me again.' Swallowing, I looked up at the eyes that had entranced me from the start. I took in his every feature, slowly and deliberately. I thrilled at the feeling of his arms enfolding me, and I inhaled his familiar scent with a trembling breath. And then, then I did the most foolish thing imaginable: I flung my arms about his neck and kissed him with all that I had, almost losing myself in the safety and security I felt. But more than that, I ran. I took his moment of shock, the slight loosing of his arms about me, and tore myself away from him, shoving out the door and into the rain. I suppose I'll never know why he didn't follow me. It was the thing I feared most. I knew that if he came for me a second time, I wouldn't be able to say 'no'. I wouldn't be able to run. But I had to. I had to go. I couldn't let him be hurt because of me. He would live on now, and I would marry another. I had leased my last bit of passion in that one moment in his arms, and as I made my way through the dark streets, I felt myself become dull and lost like the creatures bound in the menagerie. **Much of this was written when I was younger and then I came back later and finished it. There will likely be mistakes. Lots of them.

On our normal world, we think of monsters as a myth, something that is imaginary, or simply is in our imagination, but what if they did exist, or rather, they just weren't living with us. well, that is where our lead will find out, and that a war terrors the other side.

Harry is 2 years older, Neville is BWL and things are way more interesting. Follow Harry as he rises to a prominent place in the wizarding world. Full of humor and of course a badass Harry this story is bound be thrilling. DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and will never be mine. This is for the whole fanfiction.