fiction

Title: Scumbag Billionaire

Author: Harper Kingsley

Story Landing Page: https://kimichee.com/novel-scumbag-billionaire

CHAPTER ONE

There’s so much water.

It’s everywhere.

Salty and terrible.

Almost worst than the blazing heat of the sun. The light so bright and encompassing. Burning away his skin one reddened layer at a time until he wondered when he would be left as nothing more than bones.

Floating forever on the ocean. Or withered down and swallowed by the waves.

His mouth was so dry. Surrounded on all sides by water, but so thirsty his lips stuck to his teeth and his tongue felt too big for his mouth.

He was dying. He knew it and couldn’t stop it.

His death was an inevitability at this point. So far from the shore that land was nothing more than a half-remembered dream to his sun burned mind.

This was the end of him.

These were the last moments of his life.

And thinking back… he felt regret for all the time he’d wasted. Enjoying his moments but not treasuring his hours. This was all he had left.

Floating far from shore. So thirsty he couldn’t feel hungry. So hot that all he knew was burning misery.

These were his lasts moments.

Floating lost. Hopeless. Knowing he wasn’t going to be found.

TBC…

Title: The Realness of Things

Author: Harper Kingsley
Description: A man that’s afraid of the doll in his house.

It watched him from its perch in the corner. That fucking doll.

He hated it because he feared it. Such a stupid, childish fear.

He hated that it was able to eat away at him, draining the energy from his bones with each moment that he knew it was there. Watching him. Waiting in the dark for him to fall asleep. Planning during the day when he was away.

The thought of it moving around the house when he was gone made him tense all through the workday. It was the dark circles that grew beneath his eyes that had him ordering surveillance cameras. He had them sent to the office.

Innocuous-looking items he was able to arrange around the house as though he’d simply gone on a store closeout shopping spree. He mixed in non-surveillance ornaments he’d purchased to get the garishly bright shopping bag he’d carried the cameras in. He’d made sure the doll could see the name of the popular shop on the bag.

Every day at work, he would call up the camera feed from his house on his tablet. He’d set it up on its stand within his line of sight and it would comfort him to see the doll perched in its corner.

He hated the doll because he feared the doll. Because his only comfort was looking at that screen and knowing the doll was still there. Because he spent every night with the curtains drawn tight around his bed and his ears tuned for the tinkle of the "decorative" bells he’d sewn all around the hem.

He hated the doll. He feared the doll. His every moment and every thought had become … Read the rest “SHORT FIC: The Realness of Things #HarperWCK”

Title: WIP: Music is the Food of Love
Author: Harper Kingsley
Summary: inspired by Twelfth Night. Duke Orsino sends Bastian to speak to the fair Olivia on his behalf.

Prompt: https://twitter.com/AuthorNikSky/status/1336499047033688065

MUSIC IS THE FOOD OF LOVE

Bastian kept her chin tilted down, but her eyes couldn’t help straying to Orsino where he sprawled in the window seat. The handsome duke was a surly sort, melancholy wrapped around a poet’s soul so tight that sometimes he lost his words. And then he had her play and play and play.

I would play him a thousand sonnets and a million lullabies, if only he would think of me as he does HER. And that was a hateful thought perhaps, to wish misfortune on the mysterious Olivia she had never met.

In her guise of man, the duke did not look upon her. Would not.

But this was the way she was. The way she’d always been. The way she’d always wanted to be.

Feminine wiles and fripperies were as foreign as the soil of the moon would be beneath her feet. It was not her fault that she had to pretend to be a man to dress the way she FELT inside.

Neither woman nor man. Simply herself.

Born Viola, twin to Sebastian. Now Bastian in memory of her lost other half, torn from her by the grasping white caps of the sea.

She’d been so alone without him. But dressing in his clothes made her feel close to him somehow, as though it were his face gazing back at her from the mirror. Smiling gently. Promising that he would make everything all right, even after their father died so tragic and ruinous a death.

He’d promised her he’d never leave.

But where was Sebastian now? Swallowed by the sea.… Read the rest “WIP: Music Is the Food of Love”

Through a window darkly gazing
At a sight afraid to see
Breathing deep the salted water
Dreaming dreams, of you and me.