TJ Davies | Author
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tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
TJ Davies | Author
@tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
170 followers 91 following 180 posts
Writer. Mom. Chaos Personified.
Author of YA/NA Dystopian, THE LOTTERY.
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tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
TJ Davies | Author @tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social · 20d
My vague era is officially over! I'm beyond thrilled to have found an amazing home for The Lottery. The team at Cranthorpe Millner have been incredible and I'm so excited to get to work with them to bring this story to the world! cranthorpemillner.com/tj-davies-si...
#debutnovel #dystopian
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
Been there, done that. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #amwriting #amdrafting
Somehow I make it to the hospital in one piece. Between my distraction and the weather, it was touch and go for a while, but I made it, parking in the first spot I can find. The lights in the entrance are harsh and disorienting as I stumble out of the darkness. The man at the front desk gives me a look of sympathy as I ask for directions to the ICU. I make a beeline for the elevator, jabbing the call button repeatedly, gaze locked on the digital display. I tap my foot impatiently, whole body vibrating as I watch the number tick steadily down. When the doors slide open, the first thing I see are Poppy’s limp, golden curls. “Junie!” she exclaims when she sees me. I rush into the elevator and into her waiting arms. I cling to her desperately, uncaring of the scene we’re making, ignoring the orderly pushing an elderly lady in a wheelchair as they enter the elevator behind me. “He’s okay, he’s fine,” she’s murmuring in my ear, over and over. The elevator lurches and I pull away reluctantly. She can murmur all the platitudes in the world, but it won’t make a difference. “I need to see him,” I mutter, tugging at the hem of my shirt. “I know. I get it. I would too,” she replies, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me into her side. My gaze drops, falling on the bump peeking out between the gaps of her cardigan. Poppy’s rubbing her stomach with her other hand, something she does a lot lately. The movement is soothing, almost hypnotic, and we’re stumbling through the doors to the ICU before I even realise we’ve stepped off the elevator
November 21, 2025 at 10:42 AM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
Hands up if you can relate. 🙋 #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #amwriting #amdrafting
“Shame he couldn’t be home in time for your birthday,” he says after a while. I stiffen in my seat. “Yeah, shame,” I mumble through gritted teeth. I can feel his eyes on me as I pull into the school lot. “They forget?” he asks quietly. Perceptive boy. “Yep.” I throw the car into park and turn it off. “But it’s fine. I get it. Dad’s health takes priority right now.” When I reach for my phone, Josh grabs it and squeezes gently. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” he says, knowingly. “You’re allowed to want them to remember you, even if everything’s… messed up right now.” I huff and shake my head. “Feel like I’m being the most selfish daughter in the world when I think like that.” I admit, dropping my head back to stare at the roof of the car. “I’d like to say things get easier, but I’d be lying. That’s the thing about being a hospital kid. When your parent’s in more than they’re out… it messes with everything. Doesn’t make it right, though.” His words strike a chord, and I feel myself sinking further into my seat, melancholy settling over me like a weighted blanket. “That’s why it’s so good you have me,” he rushes to say, the second he sees the way I visibly deflate. “Someone’s gotta remind you how special you are.
November 20, 2025 at 8:58 AM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
November 20, 2025 at 8:19 AM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
Oh look, more drama. #WIPSnips #amwriting #writingcommunity
November 19, 2025 at 10:16 AM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
She has no idea what surprise is in store for her... #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #amwriting
November 10, 2025 at 11:01 AM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
My vague era is officially over! I'm beyond thrilled to have found an amazing home for The Lottery. The team at Cranthorpe Millner have been incredible and I'm so excited to get to work with them to bring this story to the world! cranthorpemillner.com/tj-davies-si...
#debutnovel #dystopian
November 8, 2025 at 7:00 PM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
Juniper is spiralling, just a wee little bit. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #amwriting
November 8, 2025 at 11:29 AM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
He really is a perceptive boy. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #amwriting
November 7, 2025 at 3:18 PM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
A little birthday levity today. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #amwriting
November 5, 2025 at 12:16 PM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
She doesn't even think twice before finding a way to help. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #amwriting
November 4, 2025 at 9:53 AM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
Ignore the glaring spelling error. 🤦 #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #amwriting
November 3, 2025 at 12:51 PM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
Bit late in the day, but here we are. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #amwriting
October 30, 2025 at 6:04 PM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
I've been ever so quiet these last several weeks for... Reasons.
Very vague reasons.
Very exciting vague reasons.
Will get back to sharing #WIPSnips soon. #writingcommunity #amwriting #amquerying
October 28, 2025 at 7:33 PM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
BFF's forever. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #amwriting
“Give her time,” I say after a beat. “Not everyone gets parents like ours. She’s gotta figure out if she cares more about keeping them happy or being, you know… herself. And you don’t need to get yanked along for that ride. Not right now, anyway.” Lena nods, but it’s pained. It doesn’t matter what I say. She’s hurting right now, and I get that. So I wrap my arm around her waist and shove my phone back in my pocket, ignoring the ding as a message comes through. As confused as I am about Josh and the things he makes me feel and what I want and what I need, I know that Lena needs me more. “Love you. All of you. Just the way you are. And nothing, and no one, will ever change that.” I rest my head on Lena’s shoulder and squeeze her side. “You’re stuck with me.” “Forever and always,” she whispers, our familiar mantra. “Forever and always,” I repeat, smiling softly.
September 13, 2025 at 7:42 AM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
Juniper will forever be a safe space. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #amwriting
“Did Lena know? That you weren’t out to your parents?” 144 “Yeah, yeah she knew.” Daisy sighs softly, dropping her chin to her knees. “But she didn’t know that I told them I was dating a guy named Leon.” “Oh, Daisy, no,” I whisper, heart breaking for my best friend, and even a little for the girl who was too afraid of her parents to truly accept Lena. “I know. I’m terrible. The worst,” she moans, covering her face and sniffling. “Even if – even if my parents suddenly decided to accept my choices, I don’t deserve her.” “No, you don’t,” I say, shaking my head and glancing toward my best friend. She’s watching us, her brow creased with worry. She’s given up all pretence of warming up as she gnaws at the skin around her thumb. I shoot her a reassuring smile, but she doesn’t see it. She’s too busy watching Daisy, and even now heartbroken, there’s still that look in her eyes. It’s the same look I saw in Josh’s eyes right before we kissed. The realization hits hard, and I have to drag my focus back to the girl in front of me. I shake my head, exhaling sharply. “But she wants you anyway,” I say, and I’m not sure if I’m talking about Lena or myself and Josh. Daisy’s breath catches. Focus, Juniper. I squeeze her knee again. “And if your parents can’t accept who you are, or the people you love, then they don’t deserve you.”
September 12, 2025 at 9:58 AM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
Silly, sleepy moments with these two. 😍 #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #amwriting
Taking a deep breath, I accept the call and paste a soft smile on my face. Josh peers at me from the other side, a dopey grin on his face, eyes half-lidded. He waves a cast covered arm at me and I wince. “Did anyone ever tell you you’re a bit of a clutz?” I say by way of greeting. Josh huffs out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Hello to you, too,” he quips, rolling his eyes. “And yes. My father has. Repeatedly. Emphatically.” The screen wobbles as he shifts on his bed. I catch a glimpse of a poster behind his bed and smirk. “Oh my god, please tell me you’re the president of their fan club or something.” A grin splits my face at his puzzled look. When understanding dawns, his head falls back until he’s looking up at the poster. Three overly-made-up faces and skimpily clad bodies come further into view with the movement, an old girl-group from the noughties that had one or two random hit songs that dominated the charts back when our parents were teenagers. “You do realise they’re in, like, their fifties or something now, right?” “Shut it, Brooks,” Josh grumbles, but there’s no bite to his words. “It’s a classic. Used to be my dad’s.” “Your dad has questionable taste in music,” I tease lightly, earning a chuckle. “To be fair, I don’t think he ever actually listened to their music,” he says, shooting me a wink. I wrinkle my nose in disgust. “Ew. Not a visual I needed, thanks,” I drawl. Josh shrugs and settles back against his pillows, screen hovering above his face. “But seriously, are you okay? I feel kind of awful that it happened riding home from helping me. Again.”
September 11, 2025 at 8:22 AM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
I'm a 'Masshole' by birth, but I've lived in England from nearly 15 years. I can still confidently say, beans are NOT a breakfast food. 🤪🤣 #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #amwriting
When I pull up to the curb outside the Ellis’ raised ranch, Lena is sitting on the step, eyes glued to the screen of her phone. I honk the horn and laugh as she startles so bad her phone goes flying. She hops up and snatches it from the middle of a rose bush, shoulders her bag, and marches down the path with a glower on her face. “If I wanted a heart attack before lunch, I would have eaten the grease-soaked Full English my mother tried to foist on me this morning,” she grumbles as she climbs into the passenger seat. I quirk a brow, trying to place the term. Lena’s mother was from England, but her father was a born and bred ‘Masshole’, like us. It was easy to forget that, while the language was the same, there were a lot of terms that differed, and Lena switched so effortlessly between them that it was sometimes hard to keep up. At my confused look, she rolls her eyes. “Eggs. Bacon. Ridiculously over-priced imported Heinz beans…” “Ah,” I grimace. Yes, her mother had served that breakfast after many a sleepover, and I still couldn’t stomach the strange, tomatoey-beans. “Beans are not a breakfast food.” “Do not say that in front of my mother,” Lena replies, laughing. I pull onto the street and head for the high school on the other side of town. “Speaking of mothers…”
September 10, 2025 at 8:29 AM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
Synonyms and vibes today. Gee, I wonder who David's son is... #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #amwriting
“My boy would be happy to lend a hand, if you need it,” the assistant is saying to Dad. It sounds like the two know each other. Maybe from years of trips to the hardware store, or maybe they knew each other from their younger days, I don’t know, but it’s obvious the man had no idea about Dad’s illness. Not that I’m surprised, Dad hadn’t exactly been singing it from the rooftops, and he’d all but disappeared from public life when he’d been forced to go off work on long-term sick leave. “That would be great. Junie’s great with a paint brush, but I don’t want to leave it all to her. I’ll pay him. Is he available today?” “Dad, I can handle it myself.” I cross my arms over my chest and glower at both men. The man, David according to his name tag, chuckles at the look on my face. He’s already got his phone out, ready to contact his son, but pauses, looking back and forth between me and Dad expectantly. 131 “Humor me. More hands make quicker work.” He looks at me meaningfully. I know he’s hoping to get it done before mom emerges from her migraine cocoon and can stop us, and the little girl part of me that wants nothing more than to make her Dad happy can’t argue. “Fine,” I grumble. While Dad swipes his card to pay for everything, David types out a quick message to his son. By the time I’ve transferred everything back to the cart, his son has replied. “He’ll be there in twenty,” David is saying, coming around the register to help me load the last tubs of paint. “Seems excited. Doesn’t want to be paid, either.” “Good boy you’ve got there,” Dad says, leaning heavily on the full cart. I can tell that the trip is starting to take a toll. The shaking in his hands is more pronounced than ever, and I can see a tremor jumping in his left thigh. “Yeah, I really have,” David replies with a proud smile.
September 9, 2025 at 10:04 AM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
What I should have been doing today: cleaning.
What I did instead: broke my own heart (aka, writing).
(Click the image to read the whole excerpt. Have a tissue ready.)
#writingcommunity #amwriting #wip #yacontemporary
September 8, 2025 at 1:04 PM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
These two, oh my heart. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #amwriting
“Don’t feel bad. I was happy to help,” Josh insists, poking the screen of his phone. I lean back against my own pillows and turn on my side, propping my phone on my bedside table and curling my body around my comforter. “Besides, it was all Thumper’s fault.” “Thumper?” “Cute little bunny rabbit just hopped out of nowhere. Swerved to avoid hitting it. I didn’t fancy rabbit stew for dinner.” Josh mimes a bunny hopping as he speaks, the quip about rabbit stew rolling of his tongue so nonchalantly that it makes me laugh. “Well, I’m sure Thumper was grateful for your sacrifice.” “Yes. He will live to hop another day.” We’re both laughing now. I pull up the edge of my pillow to muffle the sound. It takes us several moments to calm down, and we stare quietly at each other with lazy smiles. “So, you really weren’t just avoiding me today?” I say at last, voice small and unsure. Josh frowns and I feel bad for putting him on the spot like that. “Not on your life, Brooks. Seeing you is the highlight of my day,” he murmurs. My face is on fire. I bury it in my pillow, dropping my phone for a minute while I struggle to compose myself. Yeah, these things I’m feeling definitely aren’t one-sided. “Juniper? You still there?” Josh calls out and I take a deep breath before picking the phone back up and holding it above my head. “Yeah,” I murmur through a goofy smile. “Will you be in school tomorrow?” My toes clench in anticipation. Josh lets out a long-suffering sigh
September 7, 2025 at 7:55 AM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
Juniper's mother is surprisingly chill about having a strange boy sleepover - but when said strange boy helps miracles occur... Well, that just might be worth making an exception for. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #amwriting #writerlife
“Are you sure?” I ask, glancing back toward Josh. He’s shuffling awkwardly by the door. “Absolutely. Can you show your friend to the guest room? I’m sure his family won’t miss him for one night, and, from the looks of things,” she pauses and glances out the living room window, “it’s not safe to be driving right now. I’m betting school will be cancelled, too.” “I don’t want to impose-“ Josh starts to say, but mom cuts him off. “You’re not, I promise. Just let your parents know you’re safe and that we’ll give you a ride home when the roads are cleared.” Josh looks completely flabbergasted by this. He shoots me a cautious look and I shrug. “Come on, I’ll show you where everything is.” I grab his hand and tug him toward the stairs, Poppy and Mom’s soft whispers following in our wake. At the top of the stairs, I turn left, leading him toward the room across from my own. I stop, gesturing to another door at the end of the hall. “Bathroom,” I explain, then let him into the guest room, flicking on the light as we enter. It’s sparsely decorated, a simple day bed against one wall, with soft, blue linens that might have a layer or two of dust on them. The room hasn’t been used since Uncle Nick visited over 4th of July weekend.
September 6, 2025 at 9:31 AM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
This is totally me. Do not even attempt conversation with me until I've had my morning coffee. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #amwriting #writerlife
Bleary eyed, I trudged down the stairs, bag dragging behind me. My shoes scuff on the hardwood floor, but I can’t muster the energy to walk properly. The sounds of morning echo through the house. A pan clatters on the stovetop. The scent of filtered coffee fills the air, rich and deep and I can’t help but follow it like the starved zombie I’ve apparently become. “Food. Coffee,” I groan as I stumble my way into the kitchen, dropping my bag near the sideboard. My mother looks up from the pan of eggs she’s scrambling, a brow raised. She looks… better. There’s still some redness around her eyes, but she’s less puffy in the soft morning light. She’s pulled on her brave face and musters a soft, sad smile. “Did you finish your homework?” she asks, and I know she’s fighting to make conversation. Normal conversation. Not end-of-the- world, life-shattering conversation. I shrug. “Yeah.” I snatch up the coffee pot and fill my favorite mug, I’m here, I’m awake, Don’t push it slowly appearing in bold, black font as the heat of the coffee warms the ceramic. And I had finished it, eventually. After I’d devoured every word on every website dedicated to ALS that I could find. After I’d cried for another hour. After I’d stumbled downstairs at one a.m. and scarfed down two brownies and half a pint of cookie dough ice cream.
September 4, 2025 at 8:02 AM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
When my father was sick, my best friend was my sanity. But it was also incredibly hard seeing how much his illness affected her as well. Part of me wonders, if I had to do it again, would I be more like Juniper? Would I keep it to myself, to save her from the pain? #WIPSnips #writingcommunity
I stiffen in my seat as I pull into a space at the hardware store and throw the truck into park. “She’s got a new girlfriend, you know?” The lie slips easily through my teeth. I didn’t know exactly what Daisy was to Lena, but even if they were girlfriends, it wouldn’t keep Lena away from our family. No, that was all me. Still making excuses. Still afraid to tell her the truth. Still afraid to inflict all this pain and suffering on the one person I was counting on to keep me sane. “She could always bring her round. I won’t embarrass Lena. Well, not too much, anyway.” Dad grins at me as I help him out of the truck. His knees buckle as he lands on the snowy pavement, but I’ve got my arms under him, grunting softly as I shift both our weight until he’s steady on his feet. “I’ll let her know.” I won’t. Not yet, anyway. I knew there would come a time where I’d have to tell Lena the truth. She would never forgive me if she didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. But not yet. I wasn’t ready. I could barely handle my own feelings about the whole situation, I couldn’t add hers on to it all. At least with Josh, I didn’t have to feel his pain. He barely knew my family or my dad. I got nothing but understanding and compassion and support from him. Maybe that’s why I’d spent so much of my time over the last few weeks talking to him. He was my escape. He was my sanity
September 3, 2025 at 9:20 AM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
This boy is far too astute for Juniper. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #amwriting
September 2, 2025 at 2:15 PM
tjdaviesauthor.bsky.social
Catching you in the feels today. #WIPSnips #writingcommunity #amwriting
All the things we’d seen in Dad’s eyes that morning, weeks ago, when he woke to a house bursting with the sights, sounds, and smells of Christmas – blue, silver, and white everywhere, Bing Crosby crooning softly in the background, cookies covering every inch of the kitchen. I hadn’t seen him cry since the day he was diagnosed, but that morning, the floodgates opened. Happy tears, he’d insisted, grinning through the blur. He’d been so happy, in fact, that having a strange boy stumble down the stairs, barefoot and wearing one of Uncle Nick’s faded band tee’s over blue-checked boxers, hadn’t fazed him at all. It had turned into one of the best Christmases I could remember, and not because I’d gotten the brand-new iPad I’d been asking for all year, but because, for those precious few weeks, the smiles on our faces were anything but sad. But now, with the last of the decorations packed away, I could see the sadness beginning to creep back in. The way Mom’s lips had slowly turned down as she hauled the tree out of the room, how’d she’d barely batted an eye when the trunk had snagged on the coffee table and chipped the edge of the mahogany. How Poppy had taken one look at the disarray and made excuses to escape the house as quickly as possible. How Dad turned the idea of painting the room into a joke. The magic was gone, and with it, what little happiness we had managed to find. “Let’s do it,” I blurt out when I feel my own smile starting to turn sad. Dad looks up at me thoughtfully. “Yeah?” It’s soft, hopeful. “Definitely.” I grin at him and earn one in return.
September 1, 2025 at 8:01 AM