#BYPMW
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csmadsen.bsky.social
Today's #WIPSnips is #retrograde.

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...

...

Welp.

See you tomorrow.

#HeavyCrowns #TumbledEmeralds #BYPMW #OftDTftW #Mythicals #Universe #WhyAmIHashtaggingWhenIDidNotDoThePrompt #Help #SocialMediaHasMeInItsNet #MyGodWhyDoTheyLetUsKeepGoingWithThese

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November 18, 2025 at 3:48 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
I may be late to the party, but #WIPSnips for Saturday was #pocket, and I've got one for that, too.

This scene bluntly establishes #Mongoose and their talents. 'Goose has been waiting to be written.

#UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #Thriller #ADayLateAndSeveralDollarsShort #Mythicals #BYPMW #OftDTftW
September 15, 2025 at 2:56 AM
csmadsen.bsky.social
Today's #WIPSnips is #steel. This allows me to post the very beginning of my first book, Begging Your Pardon, Mister #Wolfe!

Erik's world begins to shift, starting with an encounter with #Baku, an uninvited spirit greedily consuming his nightmares.

#BYPMW #UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #Thriller
A screenshot of a word processor, with the word "steel" highlighted in pastel green. The text reads as follows: “I am sated.” The oddly hairless, middle-aged Asian man sitting before me inhaled with deep satisfaction, rocking back in his stainless steel chair with a discordant, grinding scrape. Balanced precariously on the chair's back legs for a moment, he straightened the tie that completed his perfectly tailored, yet otherwise entirely nondescript, blue business suit. He then belched with such a powerful reverberation that his black, mirrored sunglasses rattled on his face, emphasizing his lack of eyebrows. Appearing not a day older than forty, he wore a small, golden name tag that read “貘 - B.Aku.” Producing an intricately patterned, gold-colored handkerchief from an inner pocket, he dabbed it at his mouth with the gentle precision of an action performed countless times before. He certainly seemed ‘sated,’ but by what? There were no signs of food or utensils. The air was sterile, devoid of even the faintest aroma of a meal.
November 4, 2025 at 3:48 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
Our #WIPSnips word is #might.

The #Mythical spirit #Lykaios passively grants Erik a "gift": #ataraxia —profound calm, regardless of external circumstances. He faces a terrifying question: Does Lykaios simply enhance Erik?
Or is she taking him over?

#UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #Thriller #BYPMW

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A screenshot of a word processor with the word "might" highlighted in pastel green. The text reads as follows: Empathy and revulsion. Well, yes. I’d had plenty of that recently. With a creak, I shifted from a discomfort that was somehow only physical, despite the revelation. I felt a strange sense of calm, a detachment I’d never recognized before. My reactions to things had always been muted, but this was different. How much was Lykaios altering my perception? I wondered if she might affect me in ways I wouldn’t recognize. Losing my identity was not a concept I was enthusiastic about, and it was oddly less acceptable to me if I was unaware of it happening. The thought of the Erik I’d grown up to be disappearing within the jaws of Wolfe’s identity should have sent a chill down my spine, but the expected sensation never materialized. I realized that the old me would have been terrified of all of this, which drew a deep frown on my face.
October 16, 2025 at 3:55 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
Today's #WIPSnips word is #miss. Erik and his brother Jonathan are both reflective, but for different reasons...

#UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #Thriller #BYPMW #OftDTftW

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A snippet of a word processor, with the word "miss" highlighted in pastel green. It reads as follows: “Some days, I wish I hadn’t quit smoking. Nicotine really felt like it kept me together, although I’m sure that was an illusion. It’s because of that longing for something so bad for me that I understand people’s tendency toward embracing false comforts instead of accepting truth.” He leaned forward, staring me in the eyes, the blue of his irises that once matched my own again provoking the question in me: though it was likely unintentional—could it be that Lykaios was taking my body over? Was I only being enhanced, or was I actually being consumed and… replaced? The questions lingered, gnawing at me daily. My brother sighed and snapped his fingers in front of my face, bringing me back into focus. “Erik, jeez, man. You really have to stop going off into la-la land, brother. It worries me, sometimes.” He leaned back again, sighing gustily. “Well, the reason I brought up smoking was twofold. The first is quite simply that I miss taking the edge off with a cigarette or cigar, despite the level of harm they do to my body. “The second is because all of our official channels have failed. Neither Prima nor Terpsichore will call off their hits on you. I even sent condolences to them for the deaths of Illus and the Siren who Terpsichore lost on the cruise ship, a not-so-subtle, passive-aggressive reminder of the cost of their crusades against you thus far.”
October 6, 2025 at 5:04 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
Today's #WIPSnips word is #gradient.

From my #novella WIP, "A Proper 'Goose Pilfers." The delightful, #nonbinary Aussie thief #Goose meticulously plans their next hair color decision. Priorities!

#AProperGoosePilfers #UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #Thriller #BYPMW #OftDTftW

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A screenshot of a word processor. The text reads as follows: Mongoose, a moniker they’d grown quite fond of, had finally made their decision. Five tones. A frosty bleach-blonde, fade to pink, then to violet, into purple, stopping at a sweep of raven black. They’d been standing in the hair dye aisle for ages—at least five minutes. Rolling a poker chip across the knuckles of their left hand contemplatively, fingering the nearly-empty pack of ciggies in their pocket with their right, Goose considered how they would obtain the chosen hues. If this were a big chain, they wouldn’t hesitate to pilfer the items and disappear, but this was a mom-and-pop shop in a tiny town. Nah. This time, they’d pay for the stuff. The cutie ol’ gran up front could use the techno-bro money; there was still plenty of dosh from that silly Silicon Valley black-tie crypto event, even after the impulse buy of the beautiful Aston Martin idling outside. Mongoose cocked their head and glanced out the front window at the magnificent machine. Probably should’ve turned it off.
October 23, 2025 at 3:17 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
#CONTENT WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE AND BLOOD

Today's #WIPSnips is #swift. No time for quick #edits on it—it's as raw as when it was initially #written. Here, #Wolfe takes on the first Fratelli assassins sent to claim the lives of his friends.

#UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #Thriller #BYPMW #OftDTftW
A screenshot of a word processor, showing the word "swift" highlighted in a pastel green. Text appears as follows: Again, I smelled capsaicin oil on every bullet, strongly pronounced even through my still-muddled senses. The villainous sadist had oiled his rounds with the stuff, so that nonlethal shots would still incapacitate his enemies with additional agonizing, burning pain, far beyond what they would suffer from a regular gunshot wound. My eyes stung from residual powder. My nose was completely overwhelmed and offline. My hearing, however, was still perfect. I heard my assailant leap through the haze toward me. As he emerged from the cloud with a berserker yell, I stiff-armed him with the palm of my left hand, smashing him in the mouth and nose with his own momentum. The sharp studs of his lip piercings tore off into my hand, immediately followed by the loop in his nose tearing out. Whipping my left hand around to shake the silvery spikes out of where they had lodged themselves in my palm, I simultaneously delivered three short, swift jabs of my right hand’s rigid fingers to his throat. Stepping in close as he buckled to grasp at his collapsed windpipe, I delivered a knee to the groin, a follow-up knee to the chin, and a flourish of sweeping strikes from my left elbow back and forth across his face, tearing the piercings out of his eyebrows. Each strike was delivered with my ever-increasing physical might, and I could clearly hear the bones in his face breaking as I vented my fury into the murderer. Still reeling, his face streamed sulfur-smelling crimson from my brutal onslaught. The crumpled flesh of his destroyed lips dribbled out his last words, allowing them to tumble onto the ground with the hot spatters of scarlet he was sprinkling with a sizzle onto the greenery beneath him.
September 27, 2025 at 6:01 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
Today's #WIPSnips is #burger.

In a rare moment of pure levity, Anna Florakis gets to try a hamburger from Burger Royalty, something she always hoped to do if she ever got to visit America. Erik feels privileged to witness her wholesome reaction.

#UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #Thriller #BYPMW

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Word processor screenshot with two instances of the word "burger" highlighted. The text is as follows: “I am the burger queen!” she cackled, achieving a victorious, sloppy bite. Chewing thoughtfully for a few moments, she gulped her mouthful down and grinned at us. “So this is what American food is like! It tastes a lot better than I was led to believe. Really, it’s delicious. I read about this Burger Royalty place when I was a child, and I always swore to myself I’d try it out if I ever went to America. I simply had to have one of these tiaras.” She used her finger to tick an invisible box in front of her, making a sound like a cash register as she did so. It was hard holding back my mirth from watching her enjoy her experiences with such a genuine, innocent air. I didn’t want her to think I was laughing at her. There was just a wholesome, delightful feeling seeing her so happy, and that sort of emotion was decidedly rare in this strange new world.
November 11, 2025 at 3:36 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
CONTENT WARNING: LOW-DETAIL GUN VIOLENCE

Today's #WIPSnips word was #river. The inexplicable presence of an operative calling himself John Doe provides a little clarity (but even more questions) when a would-be Fatalis assassin is thwarted.

#UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #Thriller #BYPMW #OftDTftW
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Word processor screenshot, separated by page number 41, with the word "river" highlighted in pastel green. Text reads as follows: He raised his dagger, an unhinged scream tearing its way out of his throat. The point of the blade he was brandishing slashed downward, where it seemed to collide with an invisible river of molasses, sliding harmlessly from his fingertips to clatter uselessly to the floor. Crimson clouds billowed out across his shirt. He looked down at his torso with an expression of shock, then began to turn, as though he wanted to see where the gunshot wound had come from. Before he could finish rotating to see John’s lightly smoking gun barrel behind him, his vacant eyes rolled up into the back of his head, and the demon operative collapsed into a lifeless pile on the deck. A wash of smells came back to me. It was like I’d been locked in a sensory deprivation chamber for a week, only to be suddenly, unceremoniously released. The stinging, acrid smell of gunpowder, the overly sulfurous blood of my fallen enemy, and the fear and anxiety pheromones emitted from Anna and Jonathan all crashed over my olfactory senses like a tsunami. John didn’t speak a word. Swiftly and silently packing his rifle into the modest-sized backpack it had arrived in, he left the same way he’d come in.
October 1, 2025 at 3:49 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
With the word of the day, #absorb, #WIPSnips brought us to one of the most #iconic moments in my entire universe so far—the 'rebirth' of #Wolfe in Begging Your Pardon, Mister Wolfe.
Erik should be killed in the explosion. Instead, he's reborn.

#UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #Thriller #BYPMW #OftDTftW
A screenshot of a word processor, separated by page number 33, with the word "absorbed" showing the first six letters highlighted in a grassy pastel green color. The text reads as follows: Alarmingly, I felt my form dissipating — and fast. I still had no idea what was happening. It sounded like she didn’t know, either. Regardless, continuing forward had to be better than fading into nothingness, so my spirit nodded haltingly a single time. With my permission now granted, she drifted closer. It was almost as a lover’s embrace, at first. Her hair began to entangle and then merge with my essence, her ethereal body slowly, painfully combining itself with my own. Awe clashed with terror as she anchored what remained of my life force and melded into me. Each second felt like my existence was torn apart and repaired at a cellular level, constantly experiencing both agonizing stabs of ruthless injury and the soothing balm of careful healing. Every moment, I was condensing, pulling back whatever parts of me had drifted out into the ether. The process dwindled into completion long after time had lost meaning to me. It seemed that I had somehow absorbed her, the final silvery tendrils disappearing into the phantom skin of my spiritual form. Somewhere deep within my consciousness, I allowed myself to exhale with a sigh of relief as if a tremendous, arduous labor had been finished at last. My mouth moved independently, though it was in perfect lockstep with my will. “It is done,” we said. “We have survived. We are born anew. We are stronger. We are one. We are Wolfe.”
September 25, 2025 at 3:20 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
Today's #WIPSnips is #salmon. As predicted by the OP, none of my works in progress have the word. I went with #fish.

Jonathan, accustomed as he is to #Mythicals, is still disturbed by Prima's demands. Erik has already dismissed them.

#UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #Thriller #BYPMW #OftDTftW

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A snip of a word processor. The word "blobfish" has "fish" highlighted in pastel green. The text reads as follows: Jonathan’s scowl was deep enough that he could’ve been a blobfish for Halloween. He looked more closely at the parchment’s penmanship, then recoiled, looking up at me in surprise. “Is that… blood?” he asked, obviously disgusted. I merely nodded, shrugging. “I get the feeling that maybe this Prima guy doesn’t understand human emotion very well,” I said, re-reading the scroll. “Maybe I’m not reading it right, but I’m not even seeing mockery in this. He seems genuine in proposing that I pay for his daughter's life with two lives of my choosing from among those I care for the most. It’s crazy; this is the most cordial demand for blood I can imagine.” Jonathan’s jaw was agape. “I can see you’re impressed by this guy, but… you’re not actually going to write names at the bottom, right?” My immediate, hearty laughter seemed to put him at ease. He drained his drink, set it on a nearby tray, and crossed his arms. “So,” he asked, “what are you going to do?”
October 2, 2025 at 2:35 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
Today's #WIPSnips? #Trail. I chose a long snippet, because #Silenus doesn't deserve to have the stage pulled out from under him. He joins a scene where Erik's reality truly steps from the shadows, unveiling itself as something... different.

#UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #Thriller #BYPMW #OftDTftW

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A screenshot of a word processor, with "trail" highlighted in pastel green as part of the word "trailed." The text reads as follows: Baku trailed off as a heavyset, florid-faced man that I didn’t recognize from among the guests staggered into the bathroom, visibly sweating. His sweat stunk strongly of some kind of sweet alcohol to me, though I imagined the potency wasn’t noticeable to my newly minted informant. Our interrupting visitor had a shock of white hair that didn’t quite cover the top of his head, but was drawn into a long ponytail that seemed to make up for the forward coverage his heavily receded hairline had failed to produce. Mopping at his face with an oversized silk handkerchief, the man withdrew a full-sized bottle of wine from within his jacket, which he swigged heartily, pausing mid-swig to notice us for the first time since his arrival. He stared at us blankly, then cast his gaze down to slowly consider the label with a pronounced squint. Seemingly satisfied by what he read, he unsteadily held it out toward me. “Here ya go, kid. Ya got a lot on your plate, and this is the good stuff.” I hadn’t even formed the words to refuse when his face drew into something akin to a child’s pout, and he pulled the bottle away. “Suit yerself.” He mumbled, taking another swig. He eyed Baku suspiciously, halfheartedly offering the vintage, only to once again withdraw the offer before his intended recipient could respond. “Who woulda thunk the two most stressed out people here would be so against relaxing a liddle…” a hiccup snuck its way past his lips, which he promptly drowned with more wine. He rolled his gaze toward me for a moment. “Go on kid…” he slurred, a tendril of plum-colored drool venturing from the corner of his mouth. “Yer brother’s got lots to say to ya an’ not a whole parcel o’ time to tell it to ya.”
November 5, 2025 at 4:23 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
Today's #WIPSnips was #dungeon. Synonym: #prison is my chosen word.
Here, #Wolfe's 'pack' has seen glimpses through Jonathan's smokescreen of plausible deniability. The 'gangsters' out to get Erik have become too convenient in Kenna's eyes.

#UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #Thriller #BYPMW #OftDTftW

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A screenshot of a word processor, separated by page number 66. The word "Prison" is highlighted in pastel green. The text reads as follows: Most of my friends were behaving as I would have expected in the situation, but Kenna had me mystified. When she’d first come into my life as Tyson’s girlfriend, she’d brought with her a strong philosophy that was very Taoist in nature, calling it the “art of not giving any unnecessary craps.” This building dissatisfaction wasn’t a side of her I’d seen before. When Jonathan stood to speak to us, she was the first to say something. “You can try to buy us off with gifts and sightseeing, but the danger to our lives isn’t worth it. An emergency rescue from our cruise ship after someone beat the hell out of Anna isn’t the way vacations are supposed to end, you guys! Surely you have enough evidence by now to put these gangsters in prison, right? How long do we have to put up with this crap?”
October 8, 2025 at 4:14 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
The #WIPSnips post for the day centers around #hope. Here, a violent battle was fought by a vanguard of the #Organization, while Jonathan, Anna, and Erik remained a relatively safe distance back. When asked how such battles are covered up...

#Supernatural #Thriller #BYPMW #OftDTftW
A screen capture of a word processor, with the word "hope" highlighted in pastel green. It reads as follows: Jonathan shrugged again. “It’s long been known to us that humanity as a whole would prefer to seize on a comfortable lie as their reality, rather than threaten their comfort with an inconvenient truth. It’s easy to deceive people. If they initially doubt, just release a few whispers about the government or the wealthy… or an insidious collusion of the two. Any potential problems are soon swept under the rug.” The appreciative disgust had returned to Anna’s face, mirroring the feeling that was marching through my gut at the realization of how true Jonathan’s statement was. The idea that people would so willingly look the other way to preserve their illusions, though kind of incredible, was also a bit chilling to me. The silence in the luxurious cabin stretched out in the face of his matter-of-fact explanation. Anna unconsciously began twirling her hair while I stared into space somewhere beyond the barren landscape rushing by her window, the motorcade leaving the carnage behind for what I could only hope would be the relative safety of my hometown.
October 12, 2025 at 4:03 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
#CONTENT WARNING: #VIOLENCE AND GORE
My #WIPSnips, #mire, had to slightly expand to #quagmire.

Here, #Wolfe has been engaged at a highway rest stop by 4 #Mythical assassins, to the fierce delight of #Lykaios. In contrast, Erik feels harrowed.
#UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #Thriller #BYPMW #OftDTftW
A snipped image of a word processor, separated at the words "My" and "clothing" by page number 134. The word "quagmire" is partially highlighted, making "mire" appear with a pastel green background. The text reads as follows: me overwhelmed my senses with the combination of ionized, burnt gases, the plastics and fuel from the exploded car, human waste, the fresh earth churned from our frantic battle, and the gladiatorial blood slicking the once-vibrant green grass. I couldn’t hear anything over the roar of battle in my head, the sizzling, superheated flames roaring from my opponent, and the oversized crackling fireplace that the Ferrari had become. My senses were dulled, but my resolve was only strengthened. With a primal roar, my muscles coordinated to swing the huge mace in an overhead arc, bringing it smashing down on my fiery opponent with a crunching sound like the collapse of a sun-rotted wicker basket. The resulting splatter of gore made me gag, the demon’s body decimated by the massive weapon. Even with Lykaios’ bloodlust at full throttle, I grimaced in empathetic pain for the gruesome end of my foe. Amidst the horrified, hyperventilating screams of his partner, I snapped off the end of the ice spear she’d pinned me to the ground with, releasing my leg, and allowing it to heal over. My clothing was ruined, bloodied, and in tatters from the fight. Time started to speed back up, but reverted into a quagmire as a blade hummed past my ear.
September 26, 2025 at 3:11 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
Today's #WIPSnips is #total.

Here, Erik is being hunted by agents of Enzo, the necromantic seer who foresaw his own demise as a result of the rebirth of #Wolfe. Jonathan is completely unconcerned, and Anna is quietly confident. Their calm helps anchor Erik.

#UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #BYPMW

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A screenshot of a word processor, with the word "total" highlighted within the word "totaled" in a pastel green color. The text reads as follows: “Wait.” she said, “They’re going to come by for another look once they outpace where we could’ve reasonably reached, to see if we deviated.” He nodded to her and settled back into his chair, humming tunelessly to himself. As predicted, only minutes later. Clouds of clay dust were reinvigorated by the powerfully thrumming rotors of the searching helicopter, adding another grimy layer to the already beleaguered windows. I imagined that the outsides of the vehicles were probably so filmed with the stuff that they would be effectively camouflaged even without the cover of the billowing debris and the overpass. I winced at the thought of the interior of the incredibly luxurious SUV, now certainly totaled by the red desert’s earthy mark.
October 24, 2025 at 3:49 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
#WIPSnips for today is #leave.

Here, Lykaios paces a small desert island's sands, shocked/offended at the audacity of the Mythicals who pursue Erik, now that he is Wolfe. She explains the reasoning for going on the offensive against Fatalis.

#UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #Thriller #BYPMW #OftDTftW
A screenshot of a word processor, with the word "leaves" and the word "leave" both highlighted in pastel green, all save for the letter "s" at the end of the first instance. The text reads as follows: “Erik… This is the strangest manifestation of Wolfe I’ve ever been. You are the first man I’ve ever merged with, so our partnership has been unique to begin with… but this audacious business of different Mythical groups hunting us leaves me…” She seemed to be trying to think of the right word. “Gobsmacked? Flabbergasted? I think the term you’d use is ‘floored?’ It’s incredible. It disrespects or disregards our reputation, and I’m not sure which. We appear to need to reassert ourselves as an apex predator in Mythical society.” She snarled, clacking her teeth together with a feral, biting snap. “I am loath to leave our pack, especially in two different places, but we would not be able to win a war of attrition by defending them from attackers. They would soon be dead, and we’d have no reason left to be on the defensive. It is better to see what Jonathan has planned, then go on the attack. If we must unseat Prima himself, we will do it. Nobody disrespects Wolfe, nobody threatens our pack, nobody forgets who we are, and walks away free. We will lash them with the braids of our fury. We will break them with the hammer of our resolve.” I settled into the sand as she paced furrows all around me, gesticulating ferociously with every statement she made. I found myself holding a chilled, tropical-themed drink, beaded with icy sweat on the outside of the glass. Taking a grateful sip of the cool liquid, I listened in silent agreement as she continued to rant angrily.
September 24, 2025 at 3:06 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
Today's #WIPSnips word, #skill, pulled a continuation of an earlier entry. It expounds upon Anna's 'curse' of precognition and Erik's physical training with Lykaios in the dreamscape to become a better martial artist.

#UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #Thriller #BYPMW #OftDTftW
A word processor screenshot, separated toward the end by page number 162, with the word "skills" highlighted in a pastel green, save for the "s" at the end. The text reads as follows: “In my time in this world, I’ve seen many seers die before old age. In nearly every case, it was from over-reliance on their gifts. Their own, or those around them. The powers of a seer are not absolute, and are dependent on the cursed person’s ability to process incredible amounts of information quickly, sieving it all for the most likely outcomes.” As she spoke, she maneuvered my arms and legs into a stance, then made me mirror her slow, flowing martial movements, pausing to correct my body’s positioning frequently. It was relaxing, even as I started to see the lethality the movements would have if employed at high speed. The contrast was a surprising match to my own life after merging with Lykaios, seeking balance, peace, and grace, but prepared for decisive violence. I frowned at the thought. “In even their simplest forms, the branching possibilities of futures would be overwhelming to most. Anna’s cognitive abilities put the world’s best chess players to shame. She’s almost certainly ‘smarter’ than Jonathan, to put it into perspective. Do not hold her responsible for her failure to predict the vampire. She is more than just the sum of her powers.” I nodded, grateful for the reframing of my concerns. Anna was formidable without considering her precognative abilities. The shot she’d made on my would-be assassin would’ve drawn applause from the world’s most experienced marskmen and operatives. It was hard to know if she’d even foreseen the attempt to finish me off, or if it was just a result of her keen observational skills.
September 23, 2025 at 3:40 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
Today's #WIPSnips is #nice.

Erik & Jonathan fly to Greece to find Anna, the medium & seer chosen by the #Keepers to guide the reincarnation of #Wolfe through the rules of the hidden #Mythical society. Jonathan just learned of the Drekavac's presence.

#UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #Thriller #BYPMW

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A screenshot of a word processor. The word "nice" is highlighted in pastel green. The text reads as follows: The rest of the flight went by without any other interesting events. Our landing in Iceland felt like almost casually touching down directly into a scene in a painting. The environment was beautiful and vivid. The air rushing in from outside when the pilot descended the gangway was invigorating, the refreshing humidity a welcome contrast to the oppressive, dry heat of my home desert. I could feel Lykaios’ interest in the area stir up within me. It seemed possible that she’d never had the pleasure of setting foot on this particular island, but it turned out that neither of us would yet have that honor. Jonathan extended one hand to stall me as I stood up to disembark. “We’re only waiting here while they add just enough fuel for us to get to the mainland, then we’re off again. Some new developments have occurred at the apartment complex, so we don’t have any time to dawdle. I promise you that I’ll make it up to you with a nice vacation later.”
November 3, 2025 at 4:24 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
Ah, a Saturday where I actually post my #WIPSnips! Today's word is #obvious. (🤣)

Lykaios meets Erik in his dreams every time he sleeps. This time, atop a desert sandstone arch for a precarious picnic. He muses about danger & nudity.
#UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #Thriller #Mythicals #BYPMW #OftDTftW
A screenshot of a word processor, with a chapter heading, subheading, and the beginning of a chapter. The word "obvious" is highlighted in a pastel green. It reads as follows: Chapter 11: Vergognoso Shameful — Day 4, Evening Sleep brought me to a desert that felt exactly like the one I grew up in. We were high atop a sandstone arch. It would’ve fit in near my hometown, though it was doubtful that the location was true to reality. A little green and white striped blanket was set up at the widest part of the arch’s top, separating the two of us from each other with a wicker picnic basket full to bursting with an astonishing variety of sandwiches, fruits, and vegetables. Despite a hot wind forcefully tousling her hair in a furious dance around her otherwise unclad skin, the paper plates didn’t even rattle from their perch on the blanket. Her nudity was the norm, and I’d long since stopped wondering why. Knowing her as I did now, it was obvious. Her bare skin was yet another facet of her free spirit. Social conventions couldn’t dictate how she presented herself. They didn’t control her, because nothing could. She was mimicking a tightrope walker, her arms extended in a t-pose as she teetered along a narrow portion of her side of the arch, her silvery scars flashing brilliantly in the desert sun. A deep sense of unease crawled across my skin—she’d never brought me to a place this objectively dangerous before. I’d never been afraid of heights, but I had no idea if dying in my dreams would have any effect on me in real life. There was no way that I would survive a real-life fall from a sandstone arch like this. Yet another thing to be careful of, as the risks outweighed the rewards.
September 20, 2025 at 1:58 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
Today's #WIPSnips is #hibernate, so I whipped out the first book and its one instance of the word #hibernation. Here, #Silenus steals food from #Erik and his brother in a diner while they wind down, trying to decompress after a funeral and a fight.

#UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #Thriller #BYPMW

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A screen capture of a word processor, displaying the word "hibernation" highlighted in a pastel green. The text reads as follows: It took real effort to keep Silenus from snatching food off my plate with the strange wooden fork he apparently kept tucked into his waistcoat like a weapon of war. He was at least kind enough to steal from both of us as we ate. After finishing the last few morsels, my eyes wandered over to see Sacha emerging from the kitchen to the dining area, like a lumbering blonde bear brought out of hibernation too early. She responded to my questioning look by just nodding, providing an uncomfortably enthusiastic, cavalier double-thumbs-up. Shrugging, I looked back to Jonathan as he polished off his food, deftly turning Silenus’ fork from his plate with the twist of his steak knife. “I’m ready to go home,” I said. I was waved off by Sacha once more before we left. She probably didn’t need my help, but I was still worried about her. An uneventful and short drive later, the austere convoy dropped me off at my house. “I’ll call you,” Jonathan said. “Keep your phone on. Sleep well, brother.” I nodded to him. “I will.” Chuckling, I decided to bring up the message he’d had his assistant deliver awkwardly to me a few days prior. “Hey, bro? Friendly has been living the life. I even gave him a little robe.” He smiled softly at the mention of his old stuffed bunny rabbit. “Good,” he said. “Friendly has done a lot of work for our family. He deserves to be pampered a bit.”
October 3, 2025 at 2:52 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
Today's #WIPSnips is #spell.

Erik's hard-won vacation time is disrupted when he finds out demonic hit squads are coming for his loved ones. Meanwhile, unrelated, equally murderous and vengeful sirens are out for HIS blood. Rough vacation. 😮‍💨
#UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #Thriller #BYPMW #OftDTftW

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A screenshot of a word processor, the word "spell" highlighted in pastel green. The text reads as follows: “She may not be the last one,” he said, his voice still trembling a bit. “There could still be more, even several more Sirens aboard the ship. This is bad. We need to find Anna and the rest of your friends, then figure out an exfil of some kind. Siren enchantments have some time and range limitations, though they also have some very big, exploitable loopholes. The constraints of their power also vary a bit depending on the Siren’s age and prowess. We can only hope they’re young, inexperienced, or ideally both.” My brother literally wanting to abandon ship signalled that things were beyond bad. I couldn’t see any way around trying to escape, either. If there were more of them aboard, we were in very real danger. There was no way to know who could be under their spell, nor who might be a Siren among the other passengers. The only thing I’d seen that seemed certain was that Sirens were only women.
October 30, 2025 at 3:32 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
#WIPSnips is #blood-curdling.

The vibes it evokes are definitely present in this scene, as #Wolfe is flown into Greece to save his as-yet unmet mentor, Anna Florakis. The seer is trapped in an apartment complex with the #Drekavac, a child's ghost.

#UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #Thriller #BYPMW

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A word processor screenshot. Text reads as follows: Somewhere deep within the apartments, an eerie, otherworldly wail rang out. Everybody around me immediately froze, the complete lack of any other sound allowing traffic noises from blocks away to suddenly be the most audible thing in the area. Jonathan signaled me with a rapid, scooping hand motion like he was trying to pull standing water closer to his chest. I scurried over to him. Before I could say anything, he nodded. “That was the Drekavac,” he said, shuddering. “It’s in there. There are already some casualties. As far as we can tell, the Hounds inside have been killed. Probably the kidnapper, too. We don’t know how many civilians have died, but there are bound to be some. The surviving Hounds reported that when it wails, the lights nearby flicker and die. It could be drawing power from them somehow.
October 27, 2025 at 7:15 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
Today's #WIPSnips is #safe.

In this #scene, Anna and Erik are headed for a swim when a suspiciously timed disaster strikes. Erik decides to take a big #risk, subtly displaying #superhuman powers to save a life. Anna briefly chides him.

#UrbanFantasy #Supernatural #Thriller #BYPMW #OftDTftW

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A screenshot of a word processor, separated by page number 24, with the word "safe" highlighted in pastel green. It reads as follows: As we left the hallway and entered the waterpark, Anna’s arm shot in front of me, barring me from walking forward. I halted but didn’t even have time to give her a questioning look before a metal support strut snapped with the resounding screech like a hellish raptor descending from somewhere above. We were splashed with a cascade of water, and a segment of the waterslide crashed down where Anna and I would’ve been if she hadn’t stopped us. Eyes widened with terror, several crew members swarmed into the area, checking to make sure nobody had been hurt. As they did so, I smelled the unmistakable evidence of fear in the water still pouring down from the broken slide above. Looking up, I shoved past the crew members in time to adroitly catch a young man in his early teens after he fell through the gap in the slide. Setting him down between two astonished crewmates, I returned to the place below the gap, watching for anybody else to come raining down from above. After about a minute, the water slowed to a trickle, and I felt it was safe to assume they’d closed the slide—I wouldn’t need to catch anybody else. “Be aware, dear Wolfe.” Anna had stepped up alongside me. “Anybody who understands physics will be looking at you more carefully. Catching someone in free fall from that height isn’t a feat many can perform without someone getting badly hurt. Your selflessness sometimes risks your anonymity.” The critical words were softened by the admiration in her voice.
October 7, 2025 at 3:35 PM
csmadsen.bsky.social
Today's #WIPSnips is #monster. In thousands of pages of #UrbanFantasy, there's only ONE place where I wrote it. Interesting. 🤔📚

Here, #Wolfe faces rare uncertainty. An unpredictable (possibly insane) vampiric ally has given him the reins of a runaway moral train.

#Supernatural #Thriller #BYPMW

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A screenshot of a word processor. The word "monster" is highlighted in pastel green. The text reads as follows: The strands of the web had to be the ensorcelled, blood-linked prisoners. Was this crazy vampire actually implying that burning or blowing up this group of innocent people would work against the Fratelli? That it would overtax the blood magic and rebound on the casters? Was Vlad pushing me to become the kind of monster who’d sacrifice strangers to win a war? Did he think that if I hesitated, my own loved ones would already be lost? Within the recesses of my spirit, Lykaios remained silently watchful. It was as though she, too, felt underequipped to make a decision like this. If this was some kind of test weighed against my humanity, I didn’t know how to pass. There was nothing to guarantee that he’d respect what I considered the sanctity of human life. Was he putting them on the butcher-block to resolve this conflict with a victory, regardless of the cost? He made it sound like it wouldn’t kill the prisoners, but he hadn’t expressly said as much. The idea was insane. They were human beings. With hopes. With loved ones. With futures.
October 31, 2025 at 3:01 PM