I managed to get to #1 on Wattpad for Fantasy as well as Adventure in a month and a half. After four months, I had 1 Million reads and a year later I had 5 million. I worked really hard and have been very lucky, but I'm sure that following these simple rules helped a lot!

“Are you alright?" The corner of Eirnin’s mouth quirked up with a hint of a smile, probably remembering her reaction when he’d asked her that a moment ago. Story smiled sheepishly back up at him. "I'm fine. I think I just stepped on a rock and cut my foot. If I ever find out who took my shoes, I'll kill them." He lowered himself to one knee and bent over to pick up her injured foot. "I'd be willing to bet it was one of the fey. They're very territorial by nature and often take things that are left lying—” His voice cut off abruptly, and he stiffened before jerking to his feet and backing away from her as if she had a contagious disease. He stopped only when his back hit a tree. Eirnin of the Eáchan clan’s silver eyes—now with hints of bright yellow to them—widened in astonishment, and he stared, transfixed, at the red blood dripping from her foot. "What are you?"

1500 years before the events in The Human: The elf queen motioned from the two Seasons back to the elf by her side. “This is Ealis. She will accompany the Spring Prince on his journey and assist him as needed.” “What?” Morrigann’s jaw dropped and he tore his gaze from Ealis back to the Summer Queen. “What journey?” His mother silenced him with a simple look. “A half-blood has a been found.” Turning back to the mage, the Spring Prince found her meeting his gaze steadily, almost with a note of challenge. Her silver eyes, while maintaining the typical elvish aloofness Morrigann had come to expect over the years, narrowed as she glared, actually glared at him. “Mother, I must object. I am the Lord of the Spring! Bringer of life. If I cannot recover a simple half-blood on my own—” “This is no simple half-blood.” ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ "At times lyrical, at others brooding, Janine K. Spendlove's collection of short stories are most certainly enthralling. Milt, Mera, and her assortment of characters are so well portrayed the pages seem to breathe. Take a trip into a cave on Columbus Day Weekend, and lose yourself in well-written prose worth coming back to for a second read." - Jean Rabe, USA Today Bestselling fantasy author "Lyrical language, vivid settings, warmly sympathetic characters—and emotion so strong it can knock you off your feet. Stories don't get much better than this.” —Aaron Rosenberg, author of the bestselling SF comedy series The Adventures of DuckBob Spinowitz "Janine Spendlove is a master storyteller. I could read her "War of the Seasons" tales forever. They always leave me wanting more and more and more." - Jennifer Brozek, author of the Karen Wilson Chronicles.

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“Spring has something of mine; he knows what it is.” She smiled coldly. “I need you to bring it to me.” “And why would I do that?” Story folded her arms over her chest. A branch from the sidhe’s hair glided out in front of her, bearing a single, small acorn. “Because I poisoned Eírnin.” One of the tattoos on her shoulder coalesced into a live oak leaf, and she plucked it before standing up and holding it out toward Story. “And if you want the antidote, you will bring me what I seek.” Story lunged for the leaf, but the Autumn Princess was too quick and crushed it in her hand. “You have until winter’s first frost reaches him. Then, he dies.” Without waiting for a response, Metirreonn disappeared in a scattering of red-gold leaves and sparks. * * * * * Six months after arriving in the world of Ailionora, Story finds herself once again on a quest; only this time it is not to save a dying race but the life of the elf she loves. Along the way, she must face the consequences of her previous choices and battle with enemies both old and new while she races against time. “Engagingly demonstrates that readers of all ages can get drawn into a world of magic and adventure.” — Karen Lyon, The Hill Rag

This is a series of stories based on observations I have made while drinking coffee at Starbucks. Years of training as an investigator gives me little choice but to accidentally look into the lives of people I see. I don't do this so I can have something to write about. I do this because this is what I do. It just comes natural now. You would be surprised at the stories that are sitting right in front of you if you just knew what to look for. Cover by @Setalmage

The temperature dropped, and, shivering, Story stood and turned slowly around. A massive polar bear towered over her, his mouth twisted into an animalistic grin. “You’re sick, Geamhradann.” “I’m so glad you remember me.” The Winter King sat down on his haunches and licked one of his dinner plate sized paws clean of drying silver blood. “And I’m feeling quite well, thank you very much.” Story rubbed her hands over her arms against the freezing wind. She couldn’t feel her feet any longer, and though her head told her to run, she knew it was no good. Geamhradann would catch her as soon as she moved. She looked around for a weapon, a rock, a chunk of ice, anything to throw at him to force him to break his concentration and therefore loosen his hold on her in the dreamscape, so she could wake up. “You should know better, half-blood. You can’t hurt me here.” Story must face an evil greater than any she’s encountered before. As darkness looms over Ailionora, Story, her companions, and all of the races of Ailionora band together to fight for their very survival. “Spendlove acknowledges authors Michael Stackpole and Aaron Allston in her book. Her writing style mirrors the easy readability of those two master wordsmiths, where the words flow and the characters don’t make you stop and wonder why they are doing something. The tale just feels believable and the characters relatable.” -Tricia Barr, FANgirl Blog

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The title says it all :)