Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
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acturek.bsky.social
Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
@acturek.bsky.social
990 followers 930 following 4.3K posts
Writes character driven adult fantasy.
WIP: Brother’s Keeper, epic fantasy sibling story
Lives with bipolar - @siegeofthespirit
Clinical Laboratory Scientist
Mountain backcountry horsewoman
🚫politics🚫
Every trail’s the one true home.
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acturek.bsky.social
Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak @acturek.bsky.social · Nov 23
Two brothers—one accursed, one gifted—struggle with the Power of an empathic bond unseen for centuries. As Rushak seeks to escape his curse, Drisal must wield it as evil arises to threaten the world. But the prophesied Power can return only once, and the Shining One is … somebody else. #WIPPIT #F #A
Image: Mood board for Brother’s Keeper WIP: A block of seven images around a central one. Central image: white text on brown background that reads: “Born to be sacrificed: Drowned, shed, burnt and buried, a sin offering for his people. Had he been, all would be free. But he had not, and they weren't. He could never forget it. Brother’s Keeper (working title) A.C. Turek Surrounding images clockwise from center left: column of bonfire, running gray horse, green water, a hand holding a quartz crystal, a view looking up immense tree trunks, a waterfall, a view looking down on a vibrant green forest.
acturek.bsky.social
Morning thoughts

This is one of my favorite words.
#vssfantasy #obstreperous
I never imagined it would be this bad, that I'd be irrigating so many bite wounds under bloody manes, wiping all these twisted horns to check for cracks. Maybe if the mourners would stop whistling I could see better. Oh God, their horns weren't meant for this! Keep working. Keep working under the greasy sky without him in my way, pushing into everything like an obstreperous foal—My hands spasm. The open poultice jar drops into the mud. Another one ruined. Maybe they could just stop whistling. I never imagined reaching for so much that wouldn't be there. #vssfantasy Amanda Turek
January 28, 2026 at 2:18 PM
acturek.bsky.social
#fantasy #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #WIPSnips #procrastinate

Surprised I have this word! Just once.

Virgil pushes himself to reach the Forest home of the Sheltri.

- From Brother’s Keeper, first book of my fantasy WIP about two brothers bound by a misunderstood power.
The afternoon waning, Virgil continued PROCRASTINATING his decision on a camping spot. Over every rise he half expected to see the Ninurtan hills and vales open below him, the lush grasslands and forests, the gleaming rivers and beyond them the bluish Lago Mountains sheltering the Forest, the home of the Sheltri. Every time, it was not so. Moreover, he knew it couldn't be. The actual push to the top had not yet begun. And yet visions of Sheltria from a distance filled his thoughts. He'd a steep bowl yet to traverse and a high mesa to cross, not far beyond where the sheepherders were wont to bring their flocks and wagons. And as he climbed, cresting stepwise hillsides, he saw darkness gathering over the west as well as behind him in the east. The sun, lowering directly into his eyes, seemed drawn into it. Black clouds inhaled the sunlight and snuffed it all, leaving only thin blades of fire limning their edges. Brother's Keeper A.C. Turek
January 28, 2026 at 1:15 PM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
charliedeltawrites.bsky.social
January 28th – procrastinate (put off)

Back in a part where things are a bit tense between Fox and Mikiva.

It doesn’t help that unpleasant dreams mean Fox has been avoiding sleep.

Still, she needs to rest eventually.

#DawnsBlood

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
“First watch? I can’t decide whether that was meant to be an olive branch or a jab.” Av’ry raised an eyebrow. “Can’t it be both?” Fox grinned. “No. It can’t. Don’t make this more difficult, Fox.” “Hey, I did not start this. You saw that, she bumped into me on purpose.” Av’ry gave her a withering look. “Alright, alright.” Fox raised her hands. “Best behavior. But you had better go. Don’t want her getting the wrong idea and taking it out on you.” “Oh, it’s not so bad.” He smiled slyly. “I kind of enjoy her taking it out on me, if you know what I mean.” Fox shook her head. “You’re exhausting; you do know that, right?” “It’s come up.” He chuckled. Fox sighed. “Go get some sleep. I need you sharp tomorrow.” “Yeah, yeah.” Av’ry rolled his eyes, but he nodded as he strode off towards his tent. Fox watched him go for a moment, then turned away, chewing her lip thoughtfully as she regarded her own tent. She couldn’t put off rest forever, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.
January 28, 2026 at 8:35 AM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
saranadosfiction.com
#WIPSnips | procrastinate

That I don't have, but 'put off' I do - into the climax of Silver in the Ashes, and Mortimer and Viola realising that, right now, everything's up to them. No pressure, then.

( saranadosfiction.com/2025/02/15/s... )
Viola had managed to get the other two circles set up in surprisingly short order – though, he supposed, she did have the advantage of having two working hands – which meant that he couldn’t put off getting started any longer. *Not that putting it off would do a damn thing to help anyone, but I’d been hoping that Da would come back at some point before we had to do this. Or that Archer would wake up.* But Verist hadn’t returned from wherever it was he’d gone off to, and Archer had remained resolutely unconscious, and no master magician had magically appeared to save the two of them from having to take down a horrendously complex experimental working on their own with no guidance and no possibility of a retry if they failed. *Alright. We’ve done as much preparation as we can. And, remember, we were the ones who put half of this together in the first place.* Admittedly, it’d been by far the less complicated half, but that still counted for something. “Ready?” he asked, somewhat uselessly. Viola nodded. “Ready.” A pause. “You scared?” For a moment he thought she was mocking him, and he was very almost tempted to punch her for it. But then he saw that her hands, which she’d clasped firmly in her lap, were shaking, and he realised *exactly* why she’d asked.
January 28, 2026 at 8:43 AM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips! Had to really dig for a synonym here and glad i found one! Here ya go, Jennifer doing her best not to seem like she's procrastinating while dealing with a matter of the heart.
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
“Excuse me,” I say and turn to face them fully, “my deepest apologies, but I must conduct some TLC business related to this operation before we move on ahead. Do I have your permission to do so?” I ask them. “We are not here to interfere, Miss Jennifer,” Digran replies. “We will wait here until your business is concluded, though we request you not tarry, else we might view this as interfering with our observer duties in turn.” “Right, message received. I’ll be right back!” I say and spin around to walk towards Driona. “Now wait just a-“ Voliannas starts protesting before being cut off by Omuna with some quiet words I don’t catch. Not that I’m listening, because my mind is focused exclusively on the sight ahead of me. Driona’s clothes have indeed changed, into thick and heavy looking fabric with heavy armoured plates layered over it in several different places. Over her chest and upper arms, as if suggesting that she might use them as actual shields, like wonder woman. The fabric and the plates are all in forest camouflage motif, and I remember Vander saying that the area surrounding the compound is lightly cultivated forest, so that makes sense. She has a large helmet under her lower left arm, large enough to fit over her head. It even has a visor, which is flipped up at this moment. She sees me coming and stops adjusting her battle gear and stands there, looking at me awkwardly until I stop right in front of her. “Jennifer,” she says in a neutral tone, and my heart skips a beat.
January 28, 2026 at 8:47 AM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
tarasgeir.bsky.social
I think I used this for #smutcember but there felt like a lot of procrastination before this first kiss. Using ‘hesitate’ instead for #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
January 28, 2026 at 8:51 AM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
jacevk.bsky.social
Good morning!! Riding on ~vibes~ and a lil synonym for #WIPSnips today. Frogbo relaxes upon a hill of highway, gazing on a chalken mural above.
Make sure you take a break from working to admire art you love, like Frogbo! 🐸🌟
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
The crest of a steepmost asphalt hill came Frogbo's choice of respite—a peak overlooking a valley of highway they may laze. The road cool against their back, Frogbo looked up to see more road bending along overhead, undeniably further astroll down (or up) the winding way, the path forward ever-looping across the empty sky like a rollercoaster track with a blatant motive to deny gravity. On the highway hanging before Frogbo's face were drawings: all these drawings engravened by chalk pon concrete. Colours? Yes. Beyond many colours was it, of all shapes, lines and symbols did it and of porous sediments in smallish limbs made it. The glowing greens, blues and pinks of neon scripture mixed and moved against the rock-black asphalt, undeniable strikes of luminiscence in lightless sky. Whoeverfore hands or limbs or bits ascribed such pretty forms to the road did not do so alone. Many made this work exist, throughout it having fun—sharing each-all memories, coalescing into one.
January 28, 2026 at 8:53 AM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
jangoeswriting.bsky.social
From: ‘Just Stay Calm!’
Prompt: ‘Procrastinate’

#WiPSnips
The sounds of the night, the constant noise of traffic, the inevitable sirens, the occasional blazing rows that happened far more frequently than anyone would dare to expect, sometimes that she was involved in, were all utterly absent during that first night in Michelle’s new ‘home’ and it kept her up and staring into the darkness. Sometime around four in the morning, she managed to drift off, more due to being unable to keep her eyes open than anything else, and then the birds started. All the birds. Every single bird in the world had decided to sing outside her window. Then, around nine, when the birds had decided that the full production including dancers, full orchestra and tenor and soprano declaring their love for each other had started to diminish, she decided to stay in bed and procrastinate before getting up and seeing what the town could offer on a Sunday. Coffee being her primary objective. And to see if the game shop had Sunday opening hours and had possibly the one thing that could, almost certainly not save her life. Which was when someone knocked on her door. Which was a little odd because people had to go through the shop to get to that door, which could only mean … “It’s Fran.” The girl was a menace! A book reading, largely ambivalent menace.
January 28, 2026 at 9:17 AM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
reaper-man.bsky.social
The Citylord is after our intrepid crew for... reasons. They debate how best to avoid capture. 🏃🏼🏃🏼‍♂️🏃🏿‍♀️ 💨

Note: "Post-deceased" is the polite term for zombie in Shorespine.

From an action-comedy novel about the wacky misadventures of a heist crew.

#WIPSnips #AmWriting
#WritingCommunity
💙📖
“What if we just cut our losses and ran?” Sophie said. “We can slip out of the city tonight, even. What if we sailed to Silverfen? I have friends there.” She sounded slightly seasick already. “No point,” Fia replied with a sigh. “He’d find us. Florenti’s men are relentless. They spent ten years chasing old Wally Stumps and caught him halfway across the world, hiding in a barrel somewhere in the Benessé Desert.”42 “It’s true, Soph,” added Fishman. “There was also that post-deceased cat burglar, Noseless Nancy, who’d buried herself up on the clifftop while on the run. It only took them three days to find her.”43 Scruffy groaned again. “Knowing Florenti’s theatrics, he’ll probably send us a gilded invitation.” He stood up straighter and clasped his hands together, speaking in jovial tones: “Dear Traitors, come in of your own accord, and we shall keep things civil. Delay, and I fear my hospitality may begin to flay.” “It’s ‘fray’, Scruffy, not ‘flay’.” “No, Fishman, I think we’ll be losing our skins this time.” 42. Walter Weenthresh, later known as Wally Stumps, was on the most-wanted list for masterminding a highly illegal pyramid scheme. More specifically, he ran a real-estate scam involving triangular apartment complexes with increasingly smaller units stacked atop each other, promising buyers a stake in the “pinnacle of luxury living.” He earned his unfortunate nickname after Florenti’s agents took the phrase “disarm the suspect before apprehending him” a tad too literally. 43. She had the unique distinction of being wanted both dead and alive. Unlike Walter, her nickname was fairly self-explanatory.
January 28, 2026 at 9:46 AM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
jundlife.bsky.social
Called out
From "Hat"
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips
I decide to take another risk. If he is honest with me I am going to be honest with him. “Honors classes are just extra work. I don’t know why kids who think they are smart can’t figure that out.” “You're lazy.” “I’m not lazy. I just have other things to worry about. Talk to my case manager. He'll tell you things that will keep you up at night.” “You don’t scare me Hessian.” How dare he. I wasn’t trying to scare anyone. I was trying to be truthful.
January 28, 2026 at 10:11 AM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
danfbispo.bsky.social
ProcrastiNation rise up!

Is it really procrastinating when you have nothing to do but wait? No, it's not. Still, have this snip from #FirstLight.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
Yana sat in the common room and reviewed her to-do list for the day. In her free hand, she nursed a cup of herbal tea, fresh from the ship’s food replicator. She crossed off a few items; clear engine room, move extra furniture to guest quarters, mop floors. The Trilo’s full rehabilitation had been an eventful one at first. Clutter needed moving, old systems needed repairing, and a sense of normalcy had to be constructed, brick by brick, from the pieces of the Scrapsea that still piled up in the corners. But even the most monumental undertaking, once broken up and tackled by three pairs of hands and the occasional servo, was finished sooner or later. Now, four days into a six-day spike, the vessel wore all the trappings of functionality, even professionalism. It looked like a Trilobite-class freighter ought to look, were one to overlook all of Diodorus’s charms and talismans. And yet, sparks of restlessness lit up the freshly-mopped corridors. Ship logs showed Rook checked the time to arrival at least seven times a day; that was to be expected, as the good Security Officer always had pent-up energy to spare. But even placid Diodorus, who kept himself busy—there was always something to maintain, after all—could be spotted here and there, servicing perfectly functional pieces of machinery, or moving around talismans only to return them to their original spot.
January 28, 2026 at 10:17 AM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
cfranciswrites.bsky.social
Ess is a con artist with forbidden magic, able to control minds through touch in a world where skin is taboo. Forced into a plot to infiltrate the forum, she must prove herself non-magic by undergoing a brutal trial. Due to Cal's impatience, she might have to do it all over again.

#WIPSnips
“The trial’s procedural integrity has not been observed,” the cleric insisted, “Imperator.” “Is it your wish, then, to repeat the process? To wring another fifteen seconds from this young woman?” Ess cradled her hand close, shaking her head. “No.” Caladon strode over. “The error was mine. I will allow no further harm to the praetessa.” “Praetor,” the cleric stooped into a grovelling bow, “with respect, the Council of Purity alone can rule on such matters—” A squeal of leather cut him off. Ess followed his startled gaze to the praetor’s balled fists. His gloves stretched across his knuckles, threatening to split at the seams. Heaving deep breaths, he rocked back and forth, his anger a physical thing. A collective shudder rippled through the gargoyles. Galen pounced. “Is the council prepared to render judgement? Does the praetessa stand proven?” The cleric’s gaze ricocheted between the two men: Galen a wall, Caladon a live grenade. Did he yield to tradition? Or the power of the triarchy on full, and furious, display. Ess watched the arithmetic playing out across his tired features. She ground her teeth together. Forget Caladon’s temper, if he made her go through that again, she would fling the pot of scorching water in his odious face, hang the consequences. Quite literally. When he could delay no longer, the cleric shrank into his robes, his voice a rasp. “We concur. Her virtue is pure.” He bowed low. “Welcome to the forum, praetessa.” And, like a funerary procession, everyone in the room bowed and filed out, leaving Ess alone with two people she’d rather never see again. She drew out a long breath and straightened up, peeling her hand away from her bodice. Confidence flooded back in stuttering bursts. She’d done it. She’d only gone and done it. Passed the trial, despite Caladon’s best efforts to upend everything. She turned on him. But he and Galen were at it again: locked in silent battle, two storm-fronts refusing to share the sky.
January 28, 2026 at 10:18 AM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
ellielieberman.bsky.social
"I am buying him some time..." Leon grit out.
"He doesn't have time! He's out of time! He was out of time the minute the crown touched his head!"
- my WIP, When Morning Comes

#WIPSnips
wipsnips.bsky.social ✨#WIPSnips✨ A Daily Writing Share Tag @wipsnips.bsky.social · 5h
The #WIPSnips word for January 28th is my absolute favorite thing to do... procrastinate!

I'm a huge procrastinator but my characters don't tend to be. Maybe I could learn something from them 😂

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
WIPSnips a bluesky writing community tag January 28 - procrastinate Share a line from your WIP with the daily word for inspiration Use #WIPSnips. Don't forget Alt Text for graphics Synonyms, variation and vibes are fine. Support others on the #WIPSnips tag! Hosted by rosie-j-potter.bsky.social The image behind the text is a border that is dark blue with gold stars with a black background with neon blue border. An illustrated caticorn holding a pencil and writing in a book with a rose behind one ear is in the lower right corner. A different version of the same illustrated caticorn is curled up writing in the lower left corner.
January 28, 2026 at 10:25 AM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | Procrastinate
#⚔️🌿🌼
I have “stall” as a synonym
Right within the dark moment, Theodore is coerced into giving away where Elias has been staying. But he wants nothing more than to prevent the inevitable.
“Elias.” He knelt before him on the bed, reaching out to rub his arm. He was weak, his body frail while he rested. His skin was clammy. As Elias awoke, he shifted and opened his eyes. “Theo?” He wheezed on a breath and struggled to sit up. “What are you doing here?” “Elias, there isn’t much time,” he whispered. “You need to run, put up your defences, *something.”* “What are you talking about? Theo…” He squinted and sat up straighter. As he set his hands on the sheets, he stiffened. “What have you done?” “Elias.” “Theodore, what have you done?” His voice wavered. “They were going to kill Avery.” Theodore’s voice was pleading. “They still might. And his family’s in danger.” “Who’s out there?” “Reverend Pryce.” He struggled not to break. “And he has several men here with him. They mean to take you.” “And you brought them *here?”* “They’d kill Avery if I didn’t. Elias, I’m so sorry.” When he tried to take Elias’ hand, it was snatched away. “Elias…” “You’re no better than Obadiah.” His voice was cold. “Elias, *please.* You need to get out of here. I came to warn you.” “You’re stalling, Inquisitor.” Theodore stiffened, feeling the presence of the other guards barrelling inside. Elias was quickly grabbed by the arms, and he was dragged out.
January 28, 2026 at 10:46 AM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
abysmalauthor.bsky.social
Hal & Bron procrastinate sleeping in this snip, idly playing a game of chess rather than try to sleep through the incoming storm...

#WIPsnips
#WriteSky
#WritingCommunity
Neither of them felt like sleep, though it was late, so Hal brought out his chess set. The ancient game was one they had played often, though Bronwyn was not very good; she adored the pieces however. The set Hal owned were of Dwervic make, shaped from solid lumps of pure iron, which required periodic polishing and coating with oil to keep from rusting. The Dwarves believed in the value of having to maintain something for its own sake. Neither master or apprentice were paying much attention to the game, pushing pieces around from time to time while listening to the storm outside. Bronwyn was a few moves away from losing; she saw that clearly, though no avenue to escape presented itself, so she played only to prolong the game and put off going to bed.
January 28, 2026 at 10:58 AM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
beyondtheonions.bsky.social
#WIPSnips #procrastinate (dally) #writing #amwriting #western #horror #fiction #wip Sunsetter- #comingsoon
- #sequel to #novel Weathervane: a tale of ancient evil in the wilds of the west - a.co/d/4KHttZd 👈Available now!

* With reason, McTavish reveals his fear of the dark. 🕯️
“We need light,” McTavish turns to me, an embarrassed frustration was a mask upon his face. He felt himself torn by his sudden fear, as he was commonly one to rush in where lesser men dally. I reached inside my coat and produced my tobacco pouch. I tossed it to McTavish. “A few matches in there… can’t really spare but if your scared and all, well, try not to waste em.” I watched his face take offence, then swiftly turn blank in attempt to disguise his recognition of my insult. I will admit, it felt somehow just to me, to finally and rudely point out what was, to both McTavish and I, a flaw in the Scotsman’s character. excerpt from #wip Sunsetter by Ross McDermott
January 28, 2026 at 11:33 AM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
jade-lawrence.bsky.social
(CW: Fire aftermath)

This is the inciting incident. The moment Aldous can’t procrastinate his way through life anymore. Unable to keep doing what he always has, he has to choose a new path. That doesn’t mean he’s ready to face what waits.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity
The iron doors shut behind him. A white glow sealed them closed. He drew a slow, agonizing breath and glanced around. Once again, he was alone. He hadn’t been outside since the fire. His lungs still ached from the smoke, but it wasn’t just that. It was what lay ahead. The stairs. The brazier. The stable. He knew what waited at the bottom. That wouldn't change with time. Still, his foot hovering over the first step, as if a pause might delay the truth. But the cold bit deeper, and hesitation would bring nothing back. He descended, each step slow and deliberate, until he reached the blackened remains of his life. Charred boards. Burned hay. Twisted remnants of what had once been his stable. The scent of ash still clung to the air. A cruel reminder of all he had lost. And worst of all, they thought he had done it.
January 28, 2026 at 11:37 AM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
marinestjean.bsky.social
#WIPSnips *procrastinate*
You can't be an asshole if you're self-aware, right?
#sapphic #lesfic
Girl, pick something already. I’ll tell you you’re gorgeous and then deride your taste in fashion because it makes me feel better about myself.”
January 28, 2026 at 11:42 AM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
sayaashrah.bsky.social
#WIPSnips 28. "Procrastinate" > "Delay"

Sonya tells Askaly the truth about the Crimson Pact.

#ChroniclesOfTheRealms #BattlemageAskaly #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #QueerWriters
“Neither Raiden nor Fujin ever told us in detail what happened during the meeting, but that’s when the Crimson Scales came to be. Earthrealm versus Outworld, Edenia versus Seido. The first to achieve ten victories earns the right to absorb the other. No more wars.” Sonya chuckled, though there was no humour in it. “Except it’s all bullshit. The pact isn’t for peace, it’s merely to delay the inevitable. The Great Realms will never allow one to absorb the other, not while they can still fight. It would elevate the winner’s sovereignty above every other realm. Shao Kahn, Sindel, the Council. Hells, even Raiden. None of them could ever be trusted with this kind of power.” Obvious, now that Askaly thought about it. Did Vaeternus know this? It must. The question then became: when this war inevitably begun, would the nensiis and the other species lend their strength against the would-be conqueror? Or, unaffected by the Crimson Pact, would they try to take advantage of the chaos?
January 28, 2026 at 11:49 AM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
rvillanova312.bsky.social
#WIPSnips
Word of the day is procrastinate, which I don’t have.
So we got ✨ vibes ✨
#Writing #WritingCommunity
Groaning, Michael got up and went over to her. She had on a pair of dark goggles and was calmly working on Zephyr, humming to herself a familiar tune. It was the same one that Tommy hummed. In just a few minutes, she had already taken off the main panel, and a few small canisters were removed. He gently put his hand over her shoulder. She flinched at his touch and looked at him. “I think I figured it out. I can make the gun recycle air similar to my pod! It might take me a bit, but I think I can get it working! The longer I hold the trigger-” “Eve.” “The longer I hold it, the stronger the blast of air can be! I’m not sure how much it can hold. I might need a few parts, but the box I have should have what I need.” “Eve, we need to talk.”
January 28, 2026 at 12:09 PM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
mycelialwriter.bsky.social
Ætheren hesitates to be seen, preferring behind-the-scenes tasks and when he does perform, the spotlight is on Grak—a glyphium from the Mycellium Forest and Ætheren’s only companion from his home… #WIPSnips from TMF subbing “hesitate” for “procrastinate”
With his own chores complete, Ætheren got ready for his performance. His costume was simple and meant to blend into the background. It was all about Grak. He scratched Grak behind the ear and said, “You ready, boy?” He had one last task before the performance started. He and Grak ran to the main tent, his dark performance coat held up over his head to shield him from the rain. Sure enough, a line stretched from the main tent back all the way to the village as the people of Quan lined up, clutching their coin, smiles of anticipation on their faces as they craned their necks to see inside the main tent.
January 28, 2026 at 11:22 AM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
acturek.bsky.social
#fantasy #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #WIPSnips #storm

Bráthal’s Devouring Demon Dream

- From Brother’s Keeper, first book of my fantasy WIP about two brothers bound by a misunderstood power.
The shape flitted to another tree, and more calls answered it. A brief shudder, and the entire canopy above him ruptured into a clamorous STORM of beating wings and surly caws. The trees rumbled, and he heard Rushak's voice. Almost a whisper, it came from the wind, or was the wind. It had no words. It was the voices of the swirling crows. They formed a vortex. A terrible blackness leaked from its center, at first a seed, and then a plate, and then a treetop. The terrible blackness covered all, a roaring maw full of sharp, rotating teeth. Bráthal shrank away, but he was already flat against the earth. It came for him, a huge rapacity, immeasurable avarice, unfillable emptiness. He could not hide. Again Rushak's voice came, a wailing cry this time, and the beaks and talons of a thousand crows tore Bráthal to pieces, bit by bloody bit. Brother's Keeper A.C. Turek
January 27, 2026 at 1:14 PM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
beyondtheonions.bsky.social
#WIPSnips #storm #writing - this snippet is at least 6-years-old. It's from my unfinished #wip Possession...ya...working title... it is a work of #horror fiction and is a sequel to an older #wip that is complete...sort of...lol... anyway... Happy #chooseday 🙂
They sipped their coffee some more, both feigning a sustained interest in the approaching storm. Small talk ensued, pleasant and unintrusive. Taz, out of respect, did not broach the topic again, but after a few minutes Padre did. “Ok. So look. You go on up to Satterville and visit this lady,” he reached into his inside coat pocket and produced a vial of clear liquid, returned to the same pocket and produced a folded piece of paper. “Holy water. Don’t tell her what it is and try not to let her notice when you sprinkle some on her. If she reacts, let me know.” He passed Taz the small vile who slipped it into his shirt pocket. “And this.” Padre held up the folded piece of paper. “Don’t unfold this. Ok? Don’t even read this until you see how she reacts to the holy water. If she reacts violently, open this piece of paper and read the words exactly, with strength, repeat them if you feel threatened, then get the hell out of there and let me know.” from #wip Possession (working title) by Ross McDermott
January 27, 2026 at 1:17 PM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
siegeofthespirit.bsky.social
A place to heal the soul, if …

- From Siege of the Spirit

#fantasy #WIPSnips #storm #writesky #writingcommunity
"All ills may be healed here. Ills of the mind, the body, the soul-if the soul is willing to be healed. Seldom is the clarity of the water lost in STORM, in blue sky reflected, in fiery sunset or in that hour of perfect silence just before!" So said the Acolyte to the small assembly of pilgrims standing on the ledge overlooking River-source. Siege of the Spirit
January 27, 2026 at 1:24 PM
Reposted by Amanda Turek 💎 Writing Rushak
racthoh.bsky.social
#WIPSnips Storm. Posted this one before, but I like this part. Our hero reflects on death.

Text in the alt.

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky
I once thought I grasped the concept of stillness. Tree leaves overhead during the absence of wind, the waters below as they conned the eyes into believing the mirrored view. Gazes locked on the blackness of the night. These were my experiences. All of it was ignorance, of course, through the rush of the wind to rustle the leaves, or the storm clouds raining droplets to disrupt the pond. Sunrise would vanquish the darkness and welcome the morning. In truth, it was death; stillness was its cloak. I had been deceived into believing it was tranquility. Time and time again, the fallen reminded me of the word’s true meaning. My allies, my enemies. My family, my friends. In death, the rustle of the leaves fell on deaf ears. The waters of a river or great ocean reflected nothing back to the shut eye. Final, the end. Nothing was truly still until it was no more.
January 27, 2026 at 6:48 PM