#angenga

send me things to talk about!

“You need to spend time crawling alone through shadows to truly appreciate what it is to stand in the sun.” ― Shaun Hick

[ ϟ ]—– Akin to a boar stuffed to the brim with forest’s treasures he had settled by the hearth, massive form slack and beard gleaming where ale had clung to bristles of auburn and gold. 

Heat, but more so the promise of sustenance, had coaxed the god to the earl’s home, and within it song and stories had kept him amused well into the night, exchange of both resonating within the hall. It was the most pleasant ensnaring of the senses, rarely found outside of battle, and he indulged in it with roaring laughter, reveling in the sensations.

Such was the devotion of his folk, such power lay within that joy, that even battle wrath was soothed, subdued for a brief moment in time.

And yet, not even sated weight within belly could keep the urge to rise from blossoming, freedom and fresh air an eternal beckoning his mildly hazed mind could not resist. Warning and more offerings were ignored then, with a beaming smile and vague gesture, reassurance offered he would return, one day...

Darkness enveloped slightly swaying form, and beneath heavy steps did the earth rustle, yielding ever so slightly to the thick soles. With each inhale lungs expand with crisp air, oxygen-rich and so filling it turns veils within his skull thicker, and his chuckle is a heavy, rumbling sound voicing his merriment. 

      Ebony hair billowed behind her,    swept up by the salt-scented sea-breeze that followed her even in-land. It brought some semblance of life to the long,  limp tresses that so often framed her face like dead coral.  Pallid skin stretched too finely over hard, angular bone,   drawing prominence to the rich red, tight-lipped smile. Hidden, her tongue dragged along a row of razor-edged teeth; their sharpness was deceptive, and far too often underestimated.  Blood beaded to the surface, the sharp tang of iron soon mingling with salt on her taste-buds. Sea-foam eyes never left the one before her, as murky as the deepest depths of the ocean.   “------ To approach me without tribute would be unwise,” spoke the Mother of Waves, and her voice, lilting and musical, was discordant in its sweetness.  For a fleeting moment, she stood beautiful and regal, the fairest of maidens. Her smile widened, and the predatory flash of teeth saw the illusion die a swift death,  her form shimmering and ever-changing, dangerous and alluring both. 

#BlogTour Angenga by John Broughton

Today it’s my turn on the BlogTour Angenga by John Broughton. It’s historical fiction with an element of time travel.About the Author

John Broughton was born in Cleethorpes in Lincolnshire, studied at the local grammar school and went on to take an honours degree in Medieval and Modern History at the University of Nottingham, where he also studied Archaeology.

John retired in January 2014 and…

he's smarter than shadow boy thought. shit. :ooo

this is the gayest post i've ever seen ?

this was beautiful & if i ever need to report you to the police its because your voice is beautiful too