Meredith Mackworth-Praed
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meredithpraed.bsky.social
Meredith Mackworth-Praed
@meredithpraed.bsky.social
2.1K followers 2.7K following 570 posts
Comfort cat. Rarely seen on social media. Author of The Future King series.
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meredithpraed.bsky.social
Guess who made the (free) bestseller charts! #WritingCommunity #booksky #IndieAuthor #KingArthur #ArthurianLiterature #Dystopian #ContemporaryFantasy #ComingOfAge #YoungAdult #FreeBook #KindleDeals #FreeBookPromotion www.amazon.com/Future-King-...
The Future King Logres & Logres 2 are number 2 and 3 in the Amazon best sellers charts (free ebooks)
October 11, 2025 at 4:38 PM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
Unbelievable… the biggest number I’ve ever hit during a free book promotion! Thank you so much to everyone who’s taken the time to download 🥰 If you haven’t yet, both books in The Future King series are free to download from Amazon until Monday 💕 www.amazon.com/dp/B08BHY2V4Q 📚💙 #writingcommunity
October 11, 2025 at 3:36 AM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
To anticipate the upcoming release of Pendragon, the third book in my The Future King series, I'm giving away books 1 & 2 (Logres & Logres 2) free on Amazon kindle from October 9-13. Teen drama meets Arthurian saga in this near-future dystopian tale of King Arthur www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08BHY2V4Q
Close up of the eye of Arthur Humphreys, the 'King Arthur' teen character in the series, The Future King by M. L. Mackworth-Praed. Close up of the eye of Gwenhwyfar Taliesin, the 'Queen Guinevere' teen character in the series, The Future King by M. L. Mackworth-Praed. Close up of the eye of Lancelot Lake, the 'Sir Lancelot' teen character in the series, The Future King by M. L. Mackworth-Praed. A 5 star review stating: Great dystopian young adult fiction at a frighteningly-appropriate time in history.
October 8, 2025 at 5:26 PM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
Forgetting to do these of late, but here's my contribution for "memory", raw and unedited #WIP #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #Pendragon #TheFutureKing 💙📚
'Pendragon. If anyone in this country can fashion themselves after the high kings of legend, it's you. You are the Pendragon.’ There was no irony in Marvin’s gaze. He truly believed what he was saying. ‘And what would that make you to me?’ he asked, steadily. ‘Merlin? Merlin the advisor, Merlin the wizard?’ ‘You may think I’m being facetious, but do you not think it odd? Arthur. Gwenhwyfar. Lancelot. Bedivere. Morgan. Whether the stars have alined or the universe is just trying to give you a nudge, your whole life is blessed by the Arthurian legends. I believe there is something in that.’ Arthur thought suddenly of what Gavin had told them once, about how he’d found a whole closet in Marvin’s lined floor to ceiling with books on the legends. ‘Coincidence, Marvin. It means nothing.’ ‘Maybe not, but there is power in your name, Arthur. Britain has a long and rich history, and its memory is long. Everyone knows the tale of King Arthur and his knights. They already know you. Fashion yourself after him, as your father is doing, and you may find your path lays itself for you.’ Prime Minister. King. Could he picture it? The alternative was to trust some other man with the fate of this country, with the fate of his loved ones, his friends. He didn’t trust his father, and if he couldn’t trust his own flesh and blood, who could he trust? For a moment he considered another alternative, a quiet life where he said nothing of note and did nothing extraordinary. A life where he lived a New National life, a life of servitude, watching others fall beneath the wheel and hoping he wouldn’t be next. But he had already seen others fall beneath the wheel: Percy, Julie. Gwenhwyfar’s parents. Even Grace and Lancelot. But what Marvin asked? He couldn’t do it.
July 16, 2025 at 7:56 PM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
Arthur back from the dead for "yesterday" 💙📚 #WIP #Pendragon #TheFutureKing #KingArthur #ArthurianLegends #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
Arthur didn’t get far until the boys from his troop stopped him, each one grasping his hand and clasping him on the shoulder to tell him how happy they were to see him, and then Gavin collared him in a one-armed bear hug. ‘Arthur the hero. Saw you on the news just now. Missed you, buddy.’ ‘You too,’ Arthur said, and he meant it. Lancelot stepped into their space. ‘Fuck you for making me think you were dead,’ he said dourly, but then he put his hand on Arthur’s collarbone, and Arthur grasped him back. They held on to one another for a moment, leaving the rest unsaid. Arthur broke their embrace with an affectionate pat. ‘Anything we can do to make this day easier?’ Gavin asked. ‘Yeah. Keep other people away from me,’ Arthur said. The three of them started to walk to the Sixth Form block, Gavin and Lancelot taking his request to heart and flanking his either side. Gavin stooped to try to get closer to their level. ‘You saw Marvin yesterday? How was he?’ ‘Pissed. Pissed that I went, pissed that I didn’t tell him I was there sooner.’ ‘Why,’ Lancelot asked wryly, ‘did he know something was going to happen?’ ‘He says not. But I’m not sure I believe it.’ ‘You’re lucky you’re not dead, you know,’ Gavin said. ‘I think Gwen would have killed you twice. She’s been beside herself, mate. We all have.’ ‘Yeah, well—it’s been a shitty two weeks,’ Arthur said, unwilling to go into it. ‘And here?’ ‘Also pretty shitty, but in different ways. Obviously there’s been a lot of fighting going on in the major cities. Car bombings, politicians dead. Copycats. Patrol’s up, curfew’s been expanded. Greater restrictions on detrimentals. Enough to make Lance consider signing on for real. Right, Lance?’ Lancelot said nothing, but didn’t protest. ‘Milton’s not been seen since the bombing. Some people think he’s dead, I think he’s just in no state for photos. He’s a pretty vain man, he won’t be seen dead if he can’t stand on his own two feet unaided.’
July 2, 2025 at 9:47 AM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
"Damage" for today's WIP snippet from Pendragon (third book in the Future King series) #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #ArthurianLegends #Arthurian #KingArthur #ArthurianLiterature 💙📚
Gwenhwyfar observed it all through a pair of binoculars, and beside her in silence, Arthur was doing the same. ‘Clock tower’s gone,’ he said, and Gwenhwyfar hunted for it herself, unable to pinpoint the town centre. ‘School’s… school’s still there. Looks like the sports hall roof is gone.’ ‘Where?’ Gwenhwyfar said, but then she found it. He was right, the roof had blown off, and was strewn across the flooded sports field. Logres secondary school itself seemed intact, the red brick buildings still standing, though a few trees had crushed the perimeter fence. Gwenhwyfar pointed her binoculars towards her side of town, but it was impossible to pinpoint anything—it was just trees and water, the floodwaters still deep, and stretching out of town beyond into the fields and woodland. She turned her binoculars away, and then beyond, searching the horizon for the city of London, which was usually grey but visible in the distance. ‘Oh my god. Look.’ The water was vast, stretching far beyond the barrier of the thames estuary into the surrounding towns and cities, a smooth mirror that swallowed the centre of London, a few spires peeking out, Westminster Cathedral and Big Ben, but much of it was gone; buildings half demolished or missing, skyscrapers missing, as if scrubbed out of the still-brilliant blue sky by an eraser. ‘Canary Wharf is gone. The Thames is just… it’s like the sea.’ Arthur lowered his binoculars and looked back at the summit behind them. ‘We need to see who’s here, see if anyone knows anything about these fabled supplies,’ he said, looking for, she assumed, watchmen or any other kind of official. ‘And if there’s no one, then we need to try and set up some kind of disaster relief for those who don’t have access to clean water.’
July 1, 2025 at 7:29 PM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
And the truth is... Gwenhwyfar kissed Lancelot 🫢 #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #Pendragon #WIP #ArthurianLiterature #KingArthur #ArthurianLegend #Lancelot #Guinevere #LoveTriangle 💙📚
‘How’s he doing?’ Lancelot shrugged. ‘He’s OK.’ The room continued to fill, and as Bedivere and Viola joined them the principal appeared and Mrs Brolstone announced they were to enter the main assembly hall. As they all started to move, Gwenhwyfar found herself looking for Arthur but caught sight of Morgan instead. She was at the other side of the foyer, and had had her back turned to her, no doubt shielding herself. She could see Charlotte looking at her, and Hattie whispering something to Rhea, and then suddenly her blood was boiling and she was headed straight for them. Lancelot appeared next to her unexpectedly, and as his hands curled around her arms he redirected her gracefully to the edge of the crowd. ‘No,’ he murmured in her ear, still standing aside her with his arm about her shoulders. She felt a chill roll all the way down her neck and along her spine. ‘They lost Rebecca.’ ‘Rebecca’s dead?’ Gwenhwyfar asked, stunned, and suddenly feeling foolish for caring about something so trivial as Charlotte looking at her funny. Who cared what Morgan had done to her? Why should she care? Rebecca, and twenty other students whose names were listed on that wall, were dead. Lancelot moved closer, and nodded, and together they hovered at the edge of the crowd as it filtered into the assembly hall. He bowed his head towards her shoulder again, his chest to her back as they shuffled towards the double doors. ‘So I hear you kissed someone at Callum’s halloween party,’ he murmured. ‘I didn’t kiss anyone,’ she said. ‘I just didn’t want Arthur to feel like all the blame lay with him. And I couldn’t tell him the truth, so…’ She shrugged. ‘It was the next best thing.’ ‘It’s noble of you, Gwenhwyfar, but I don’t know if you should have told him anything at all. He’s going to want to know who.’ ‘I’ve told him I don’t know who. Did he really speak to you yesterday?’ ‘Yeah. And I had to tell him a hundred times I don’t know who it is you kissed.’
June 30, 2025 at 9:00 AM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
Gwen hears that Lance and Viola have finally escaped the coup in France #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIP #Pendragon #KingArthur #ArthurianLegends #ArthurianLiterature 💙📚
‘They’re back!’ she gasped. ‘Lance and Viola are back!’ ‘What?’ Emily thrust her phone towards Gwenhwyfar’s face. Jerking back to avoid being hit, Gwenhwyfar had half a second to see a photo of Lancelot on the train, and then the phone was whipped away. ‘Looks like they crossed the channel this morning,’ Emily continued, oblivious to the panic striking Gwenhwyfar, ‘Vi says they’ll be in school today.’ She tapped out a response to the group chat. Gwenhwyfar heard the message send. ‘They’re on their way right now!’ ‘Let me see.’ Gwenhwyfar took Emily’s phone with a frown. She skimmed the message Viola sent just over an hour ago, Finally in the UK, see you all soon!, eyes landing on the photo of Lancelot in the train carriage, his brown hair mussed, his attention held by a tatty paperback. Next to him were two large rucksacks, while a takeaway coffee cup stood on the table before him. Gwenhwyfar tried to ignore the flutter of excitement stirring in her chest. Emily snatched the phone away before she’d had her fill. ‘How far away are they?’ ‘I’m trying to find out. Ugh, she’s gone offline, and Lance is never on his phone.’ Emily cast her mobile onto the table with a clatter. ‘I suppose we’ll find out soon enough. Can you believe they’re finally home? It’s like they’ve been gone ages. And then, I feel like I was only just there. Could you imagine if I’d got stuck there, too?’ ‘I wish I’d been able to go out there,’ Gwenhwyfar lamented. ‘You know, before the whole war thing. Even if it were only for a couple of days.’ ‘Yeah, I can’t believe New National refused your travel visa. I mean, what did they think you’d do? Bring the French Revolution home with you?’ ‘I mean, I was thinking more along the lines of a new outfit.’ Gwenhwyfar spared a brief glance for the I See camera watching them from the other side of the room. ‘But sure, the French Revolution would have done, too.’
June 27, 2025 at 8:04 AM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
A challenge for Gwenhwyfar and her friends #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WIP #WIPSnip #KingArthur #Pendragon #Arthurian 💙📚
Their instructor was circling the room, a mild smile of amusement on their face, willing to help but not wanting to intrude. They were all sitting around a large table working with clay, clay that supposedly turned into solid sterling silver when heated. There were varying murmurs or grumbles in response to the instructor’s query, and silence from Emily, which Gwenhwyfar knew to take to mean that she was in full concentration-mode, likely producing something better and more elaborate than the rest of them. The small jewellery studio had an exclusive boutique attached to the front of it, and offered classes and courses in smithing—including group events with a custom-made piece of jewellery at the end of it. Bedivere it seemed had made the right decision after all: generally Emily enjoyed doing what she was good at, and so far she was taking the challenge in her stride. Gwenhwyfar herself was battling with a lump she was trying to coerce into becoming a maned lion. She felt it was a battle she was losing. ‘I think I’m going for something more abstract,’ she announced, as the instructor paused behind her and asked her how it was going. Lancelot snorted next to her, while he carelessly moulded his lump of clay with restless thumbs. ‘You know,’ Gwenhwyfar added, ‘I’m going for the essence of the animal, rather than the animal itself.’ ‘Not a bad approach at all,’ the instructor said encouragingly, before moving to peer over Lancelot’s shoulder, and then moving on. Lancelot cast her a sidelong glance, and she smirked, feeling as if they were entirely in each other’s confidence. ‘Can’t we keep the rings we make for ourselves?’ Gavin said, hunched over his own creation with a folded brow. ‘I’m starting to like mine.’ ‘Looks like a knuckle-duster,’ Arthur remarked, and Gavin’s frown deepened. When Arthur wasn’t looking, Gavin quietly removed a third of his creation and started again. ‘This is a bit beyond me. I mean, unless I pretend I was trying to make a slug?’
June 26, 2025 at 8:20 AM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
Desperate to get this first draft finished #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips #Pendragon #WIP #KingArthur #Arthurian 💙📚
‘It’s the drones!’ Samuel shouted, his large hand planting itself on the top of her head as he forced her to crouch. Something white flew overhead—thrrrrummmm—with the thunk-thunk-thunk and then ballistic bullets made for body armour were pulverising bodies: a surrealist slaughterhouse. So much blood, it had to be paint. Bodies strewn across a canvas graveyard. Picasso people. Hissing. The New Moral agents wore gas masks, she realised. Gas clouded in amongst the spray paint with a sssssssszzzzzzzz from the drones. Instinctively Gwenhwyfar held her breath. They inched closer to the place barricade. People were wedged against the shields, fodder as the crowd behind them pushed, shoved. One riot shield broke ranks, and the flood commenced, the dam broken. Wordless, they ran with the rest—pushing, scrabbling. Arthur still had hold of Samuel and Gwenhwyfar clung to Tom for dear life. Keep your eyes up, a voice from within told her. Do not look down. Safir appeared beside them in the charge, and she grabbed his sleeve. He shook her off before realising it was her. Then he joined them. The hole in the shield wall widened. Protestors stuck to the edges like it was flypaper or the outer ring of a broken spider web. Arthur led the way, zig-zagging straight through the middle. Something jerked Gwenhwyfar backwards as they entered the gap—a policeman caught Tom by the belt. Gwenhwyfar rounded back on them both, used her and Tom’s combined weight to knock the officer onto the concrete. They all went down together: a frantic scramble of limbs an elbows—and then suddenly they were free—running, still running—desperate not to get caught. They caught up to Arthur and Samuel by the river, their escape route and meeting points pre-planned. ‘Gwenhwyfar, thank God.’ Arthur crushed her to him, imprinting a clumsy kiss on her forehead. She clung to him, shaking. ‘I thought they got you.’ ‘Almost did,’ Tom huffed, restless, and in obvious pain. ‘No sign of the others?’
June 23, 2025 at 11:13 AM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
One thing more for you to read #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #KingArthur #Pendragon #WIP #ArthurianLiterature #ArthurianLegend #Arthurian #Read 📚💙
‘We should make a pact,’ Emily urged. ‘No matter what we do, or where we’re going, that’s where we end up. Equality, fairness, and freedom. For everyone.’ ‘For everyone,’ Viola agreed. ‘Sounds a bit wishy-washy, lovey-dovey to me.’ Tom grinned. ‘I’m in.’ ‘We’re already called the Round Table,’ Bedivere told them, ‘we should give it a name.’ ‘Not everything needs a name, Bedivere,’ Lancelot remarked. ‘EFF off?’ Tom eyed the group. ‘What? Equality, Fairness, Freedom. EFF off. It works.’ ‘Oh, F-off,’ Gavin told him with a grin. ‘Camelot,’ Morgan blurted out. Everyone looked to her in surprise. ‘We should call the concept Camelot.’ ‘Camelot’s a place, not a concept,’ Gavin said, as Lancelot rolled his eyes. ‘Yes, it’s a place. But it’s also an ideal, something to strive towards. If you’d read the legends, you’d know.’ Percy backed her up. ‘She’s right. Camelot’s an ideal, something the knights all strive towards. To make a better world.’ ‘So Arthur would be king, then?’ Lancelot remarked dourly. ‘Great.’ ‘No one’s king,’ Gwenhwyfar contested. ‘It’s like the round table. In Camelot, everyone has an equal say.’ ‘That’s not the only thing that happens in Camelot,’ Lancelot muttered. Gwenhwyfar felt her chest thump. She quickly glanced at the others, but they either didn’t hear him, or didn’t care what he meant by his comment. ‘Well, I like it,’ Bedivere chirped cheerfully. He looked to Arthur. ‘Marvin will like it.’ ‘Marvin’s not here,’ Gavin pointed out. ‘So his opinion hardly matters.’ ‘We’ll vote on it,’ Arthur declared, leaning back with his hands linked over his stomach. ‘All in favour of Camelot?’ Everyone, save Lancelot and Tom, raised their hands. Arthur’s eyebrow arched. ‘All in favour of EFF off?’ Tom raised his hand. ‘I abstain,’ Lancelot said, when Arthur’s golden gaze fell on him questioningly. Arthur shrugged, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. ‘Majority rules. Camelot it is, then.’
June 19, 2025 at 10:58 AM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
SPOILERS 📚💙 I’m going to be reading a lot of Arthurian literature. First up is Gwen and Art are not in Love by Lex Croucher 👑 #arthurian #kingarthur #arthurianliterature #bookreview #gwenandartarenotinlove
June 19, 2025 at 10:21 AM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
A little unexpected fame ✨
#WIP #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #BookSky #KingArthur #Arthurian #Lancelot 📚💙
On loop; on repeat. The Oxymoron’s first single blew up on every major streaming application, downloads clocking up into the tens of thousands. Their accompanying music video was edgy, chic, and the resulting comments ran into the hundreds: people obsessed with Lancelot, people obsessed with Tom. Dozens of remarks about Viola, Morgan, and Emily, and the other two girls that had made the cut, with responses from Tom saying: thanks. Thanks for your support! Check out our website. Check out our tour dates. Album available here. Stream us here, until he gave up, flooded with comments. Gwenhwyfar was responsible for at least fifty video views herself—she couldn’t get enough of it. Her friends looked great, and made her wish she hadn’t messed up her own audition so spectacularly. Tom exploded into full colour when on screen—all this time, it was if Gwenhwyfar had been seeing him in black and white. And Lancelot… Lancelot was otherworldly. He was so… different. Sure of himself. Sexy. His face, his eyes, his voice. Burning into her brain. The whole album on loop; in loop in her headphones, on loop from Grace’s bedroom. In the house, in school, on the bus, in the car. Picked up by local radio—interviews. And then onwards into the charts. It was Tuesday the thirteenth of January, and the sun was shining in a bright, spring-blue sky. It was freezing outside, the pale yellow sunshine doing little to thaw the ice sheeting the school grounds, though Gwenhwyfar felt cosy enough in the wool jumper dress Arthur had bought her for Christmas, still wrapped up in the cashmere snood she’d gotten from Tom. ‘I feel so famous,’ Emily was saying, still riding high from her role in The Oxymorons’ music video. She flicked a finger across the screen of her mobile phone and gasped. ‘Ten thousand views already. God, Tom. You guys must be rolling in it already.’
June 17, 2025 at 11:04 AM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
Not done one of these for a while, but here's my contribution for "team" from my WIP 📚💙 #Pendragon

Been busy first-drafting, now at 368,000 words and nearly at the end 🙃 #IndieAuthor #BookSky #KingArthur #Arthurian #ArthurianLiterature #TheFutureKing #WIP #Arthur #Merlin #Lancelot
‘When’s his first session?’ ‘This Tuesday. I need to figure out a way to stop him from getting killed.’ ‘I suppose you want him to establish himself in the hierarchy,’ Marvin observed. ‘Create a sense of fraternity with the troop?’ ‘With them all already resenting him. They’ll think he’s lazy and that he’s been shirking his duties. Particularly since he won’t have been with us through cleanup. Even though he was digging graves with the other detrimentals.’ ‘Even though,’ Marvin agreed. He returned to the armchair to retrieve his wine. ‘I have to say, it’s good Lancelot has finally signed on with the Young Morals. Though I worry it may be too little too late. Already there’s pressure from the governors for Ravioli to refuse him a place at Logres next term. No one wants a detrimental in their school. He’s going to have to find a way to get his SOCs score up fast. It may not be so impossible, he’s the best piano player the school has and could find a way to use it to his advantage. James and I are trying to figure out what to do, a way we can defy the governors without getting everyone in trouble. As for Young Morals, the only advice I can give is try to get it all out of the way in the first session. Think of a team-building activity, something that gives the recruits the chance to have a go, and Lancelot the chance to prove himself.’ Arthur nodded, thinking. He could choose any number of things where Lancelot would excel. But that would turn the rest of his troop against him, too. The doorbell sounded. Arthur instinctively got up. Marvin gestured for him to leave it. ‘I’ll go,’ he said, clutching his wineglass as Arthur picked his up too. ‘But before we let the others in, there is one last thing I think you should ask yourself. Does it matter that Gwen made a mistake, if you made one too?’ Perhaps Marvin saw the answer in Arthur’s eyes, because his expression softened, and he offered Arthur a sympathetic smile. ‘I thought not.’
June 16, 2025 at 9:14 PM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
Dumbledore, The Oracle, and Gandalf. I'll take that as a compliment, I guess 😆
May 23, 2025 at 8:41 PM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
Another day, another split lip for Lancelot #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #BookSky #ArthurianApril #KingArthur #ArhturianLiterature #TheFutureKing #Pendragon
‘It can drive them further apart. I’m just saying,’ Gwenhwyfar added, ‘With everything we’ve been through, surely now’s the time to—’ ‘Lance, no!’ Gwenhwyfar spun around at Emily’s outcry. Her stomach flipped. Lancelot had appeared and was dressed in the charcoal-black Young Moral uniform, the beetle-like red eye-cross and Young Moral variation on his chest and his arm. He looked neat, he looked deadly, and had a thunderous expression to match. The entire sight was unnerving. Gwenhwyfar wanted to ruffle the starchy collar and pop the buttons on his charcoal shirt, yet was afraid to go anywhere near him. Then she saw the split in his lip and the bruising around his cheekbone. Gavin’s mouth hung open. ‘Dude, what happened? ‘Your face—’ Viola began. ‘You’re Young Moral suddenly?’ Bedivere exclaimed. ‘You could have bloody told us,’ Gavin objected. ‘Seriously Lance, what happened to your face?’ Lancelot glowered as he pulled out a chair and sat in it mindfully. Gwenhwyfar felt his presence burning next to her like the heat of a bonfire. ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ he glowered. Gwenhwyfar stared at the ripe plum marks across his face, at the ruby split in his lip. She suddenly realised how long it had been since she had last seen him like this, knuckles bruised by somebody else’s face, his eyes dark and troubled and his shoulders hunched. She wanted to reach out to him and smooth his hurts away. ‘What happened?’ she asked. He faced her momentarily. ‘Nothing happened. I’m Young Moral, now. Just like everybody else.’ ‘But you were the last of the resistance,’ Emily complained. ‘Literally the only guy in school not in uniform.’ Gavin scowled. ‘Which troop?’ ‘Arthur’s.’ ‘Your troop did this?’ Viola asked with concern. Suddenly she was looking for Tom.
April 12, 2025 at 9:37 PM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
Too many goodbyes in my book; too many goodbyes this year #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #BookSky #KingArthur #Arthurian #ArthurianApril #TheFutureKing
Gwenhwyfar emphasised how her friends were her life, her ride or die, determined to make her mother understand just how looked after she was. She would be OK. That’s all she wanted to emphasise. That everything would be OK. She didn’t know it yet, but in six months she would wish she had used this time better, would wish she had forgotten about the practicalities that needed discussing, wished she had disregarded the trivialities of the fleeting day to day and focused instead on asking her mother something to know her better. Tell me about your childhood. What is your favourite memory from it. What is your favourite memory of when I was young. What were you like in school. What was dad like when you first met. How did you feel when you realised you were pregnant with me. Do you have any regrets? How she would yearn for voice recordings of all these things. Instead she talked about school, about the League, about Arthur, about Viola, about their photoshoot, until it was finally time to go. They all embraced, and then the bravery that Eve had demonstrated throughout wavered, and she turned to Gwenhwyfar with a slight frown on her brow. ‘Have you heard from Richard?’ At first Gwenhwyfar shook her head, thinking she would lie, thinking it could be a small morsel of hope for her mother in the hours to come, but she knew it would be false, and the shake turned into a nod as the smile she forced wobbled. ‘He said he’s already doing everything he can.’ Eve nodded. Her eyes were now glassy. ‘Everything he can?’ ‘Everything he can,’ Gwenhwyfar repeated, knowing it wouldn’t be much. He throat felt dry, like a burr was stuck in it, like she wanted to press something, say something, state the obvious which sounded something along the lines like so this is goodbye but couldn’t, instead swallowed the dry feeling down and said, ‘When we know where they’re sending you, we’ll come visit,’—as if they could, as if it were possible.
April 11, 2025 at 3:03 PM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
"Whipping" up a quick snippet for the word "whip" from the next book in The Future King series #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #ArthurianApril #KingArthur #Arthurian #IndieApril #Author #BookSky
Emily thrust her phone towards Gwenhwyfar’s face. Jerking back to avoid being hit, Gwenhwyfar had half a second to see a photo of Lancelot on the train, and then the phone was whipped away. ‘Looks like they crossed the channel this morning,’ Emily continued, oblivious to the panic striking Gwenhwyfar, ‘Vi says they’ll be in school today.’ She tapped out a response to the group chat. Gwenhwyfar heard the message send. ‘They’re on their way right now!’ ‘Let me see.’ Gwenhwyfar took Emily’s phone with a frown. She skimmed the message Viola sent just over an hour ago, Finally in the UK, see you all soon!, eyes landing on the photo of Lancelot in the train carriage, his brown hair mussed, his attention held by a tatty paperback. Next to him were two large rucksacks, while a takeaway coffee cup stood on the table before him. Gwenhwyfar tried to ignore the flutter of excitement stirring in her chest. Emily snatched the phone away before she’d had her fill.
April 8, 2025 at 7:38 PM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
in other news: a new review! 🥰
The characters are even more fleshed out and relatable in this book and the descriptions are so clear that I can see the locations as I read. Compelling plot and I can't wait to read the next book!
March 28, 2025 at 9:31 PM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
Lancelot and Gwenhwfyar for "fact" #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts 💙📚
‘Sorry? ‘Just ignore him, Gwen,’ Lancelot said, a hint of annoyance audible in his tone. ‘He’s winding us up.’ ‘No I’m not. It’s a serious question. I thought you two were basically a thing.’ Gwenhwyfar fixed her eyes on Lancelot, wanting to see his face so badly in that moment, and she could only see the back of his head. Her own face was burning, her heart thumping, and she was glad it was dark. ‘Actually, we’re engaged,’ she found herself saying. ‘In fact, we’re eloping. Right now. I gave you the postcode of my local church.’ She felt the tension squaring Lancelot’s shoulders immediately relax. Bobby turned to look at Lancelot. ‘Seriously?’ ‘Yeah, man. We’re eloping, and you’re going to be our witness,’ he said with amusement. ‘Seriously Lotty, don’t even joke. Are you two serious, right now? Because if you are, I’m one hundred percent here for it.’ Gwenhwyfar rolled her eyes. ‘I mean it,’ Bobby insisted, fixing her in his gaze in the rear-view mirror. ‘If we pull up to anything other than a church right now, I’m going to lose it.’ ‘Of course we’re joking,’ Lancelot said. ‘You really think your dad would let me live through a teen wedding?’ ‘Fair point,’ Bobby conceded.
March 26, 2025 at 9:06 PM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
Also 24 academic articles by my uncle, Saul Jacka, and 27 books by his brother, Benedict Jacka. They just took it all.
Books by Benedict Jacka scraped by Meta for AI-training.
March 24, 2025 at 10:19 AM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
And of course they got 6 academic articles and 1 book from my husband, too.
Books and academic articles Meta scraped from the author & academic Kristof Smeyers.
March 24, 2025 at 10:06 AM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
Still so, so angry about this. It's not just me: 39 other books and academic articles stolen and scraped for AI-training by Meta, books written by my grandfather, my great grandfather, my great uncle, and other relations. Meta knew it was wrong and did it anyway.
Screenshot of books scraped by Meta for AI-training
March 24, 2025 at 9:59 AM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
Couldn't post this yesterday but protest is something they talk about a lot in my books 🙃 #WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity 💙📚
‘Look,’ Bedivere’s voice came out hoarser than Gwenhwyfar assumed he intended. ‘Maybe we should all just calm down.’ ‘Yes, let’s calm down,’ Lancelot echoed, hotly. ‘World’s going fucking insane and we should just sit back let it happen, right? What happened to that shitty little club, The Square Table? What happened to those protests we went to, those sleepless nights over those fucking phones? What, the summer was too long for you? Have you all forgotten? You’re all just going to sit there in party uniform and shrug your shoulders and say, that’s the way it is?’ ‘It’s the Round Table,’ Bedivere added, quietly.
March 22, 2025 at 8:46 AM
meredithpraed.bsky.social
I didn’t think a cover redesign was something I was capable of but here I am doing it 😅
March 20, 2025 at 9:17 PM