fiction
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![[WIP] Prologue: The Wolf of Eidan](https://icarusblake.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/image.png?w=900)
Please enjoy this sneak peak of my current project. 14 Ignatan, 831 Saint The bells chimed midnight in Eidan, the city a shadow against the blackness of the new moon. The wolf waited beside the wastewater outlet, a dirty reddish torrent tumbling into the bay below. Gradually the water slowed to a stream, then a…
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The horns sounded on the track, and on the back stretch Aggie pulled the syringe out of Sunny Red’s vein. He capped the needle and leaned against the stall to watch the bay filly in the tense seconds as the cocktail took hold. Sunny’s haunches twitched, her jaw fell open and long strings of drool…
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Sometimes a work of art is done just because you want to move onto other things. So happy birthday to my husband, and congrats to me, on dropping my first novel so I can move on to other projects slightly more in my genre. My debut book? Gay erotica. Someone dies. Herbalism’s involved. So is…
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Experimentation into the function of dreaming coalesce into one major theory: dreams are the subconscious mind’s own personal method of problem solving. Most dreams are nonsense, unremembered consequences of a sound command to “sleep on it” and awaken with fresh eyes and no knowledge of how you got there. But, if you’re like me, you…
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I see them in the morning, when I squint against the sun streaming in through curtainless windows. Spots of light at the corner of my vision, fireflies flashing their morse code into the ether. I blink and they’re gone, the shine of the morning dims mundane. Coffee massages away the last dregs of the headache…
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It is 0730 and I have prions on my mind again. Have I posted about this particular interest before? Probably, somewhere, I’m not going to dig it up. On this morning, I’ve got prions on my mind as a curse. Consider this: You and your flock of sheep take up residence in a lovely little…
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I love prompts like this because they’re just so vague. Do I have limitations? What happens if I die in the swapped body? When you say “day”, do you mean the whole 24 hours or just sunrise to sunset? Could I extend the swapped period by doing everything from a plane flying east? Anyway. For…
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Monday. Tired as I am, the world feels wide awake. The sun is warm and I can almost smell vanilla in the air. Today I Can: Breathe Deeply Alarm for 11:30 Appointment at 2:00 Wonder AloudTuesday. The sun is out today, but the brightness of morning hurts my eyes. Something stinks like gasoline. Today I…
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This is an age of polished media. I’ve talked about it before in my review of Videodrome, on how the polish often paints over the grime and devalues the time put into something imperfect. I pick apart and apart and apart my crochet projects because I’ve missed a stitch, misread the pattern, and the project…
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Paint a picture of the American West for me. Paint me sprawling yellow deserts and blue mountains reaching to the heavens, arches of red rock and dusty ghost towns beneath stone spires. Draw me the abandoned mine shafts, the long lonely highways. I want to hear the sad twang of guitar between that night sky…
from the pen of icarus blake 