
L.C. Schäfer
Bio
Book babies on Kindle Unlimited:
Summer Leaves (grab it while it's gorgeous)
Never so naked as I am on a page
Subscribe for n00dz
I'm not a writer! I've just had too much coffee!
Sometimes writes under S.E.Holz
Achievements (13)
Stories (928)
Filter by community
Good Boy
This is like one of my dreams, but I can't wake up. Yesterday, I was fit and strong. I could run fast. I was loyal. It wasn't perfect. The time I had with Her was never long enough. My whole life was longing for the sigh against the warmth of her. I loved her more than anything. So much it hurt, and the hurt was all of me. I worshipped her smell, lived for her hand on my ears.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
Shhh! I'm Hunting...
The hunter wears the forest like an old cape. Easy. Familiar. Comfortable. Footfalls are soft and catlike in the dirt, bow ready, nerves strung tight. It's elusive, the quarry. Success owes as much to luck as skill. Today, perhaps, the hunter will be lucky.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
A Treefecta of Tales
A Trilogy in Six Parts, AKA "A Greemarillion" If you know me at all, you know that I don't enter every Vocal challenge. But when I do enter one, it's because it's inspired me. If it inspires me, I'm probably not going to stick to just one entry.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Writers
A Fanny Full of Wasps. Runner-Up in Whispering Woods Challenge.
I never thought my sister would die. Oh, I know her death was natural, expected. She, of all people, had been firmly rooted in such things, in the give and take of nature. Tender protection of it, and respect for its savage edge. If I'd thought of her end at all, it was the back of her, dwindling from view and swallowed by summer trees. Her stumping off to the woods in her big boots and enormous overcoat with that ancient loyal mutt at her side... and simply never coming back.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
The Tale of Emmeline & Stanley. Content Warning.
The flickering candle did nothing to enhance the passed-out lump Emmeline called Husband. The stink-cloud of booze and old sweat coming off him infected the air. Wrinkling her nose, she plucked the bottle from his hand and locked it away in the poky little kitchen. It wouldn't do for Them to get their little hands on it.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction












