The Inkwell presents: Final Call III

By The Inkwell

However, we all know how the world gets in a writer’s way, or the spark just isn’t around when we really need it. So, we fail to make deadlines, or an idea comes to us weeks later. Too late, unfortunately. But that’s what this anthology is all about. Having a last chance to write a tale based on one of the prompts from the year now gone.

And though much time has passed, and upheavals have shocked our world, nothing stops these writers from bringing their ideas to life. So, whether you’re trapped in a lonely home or building a new life, whether love is knocking at your door, or the wolf is just below the surface, fly high, sweet adventurers of the word, and dare the sun to be unkind. For, you never know, this may be the day they smile sweetly on you.

Thus, dear reader, we ask only one thing of you — where will your flights of fancy take you?

Hanging Hope - After death, Koda builds a new life
Mansion - Within this house, Syn's life is writ large
Of Sunlight and Stolen Love - Be careful you don't reach too high, for even those who wish to catch you may not be able
Missed Connections - Guardian spirits can only do so much for those who don't see
The Wolf's Choice - The wild is always just a choice away

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Inkwell
• Release date: Dec 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215140642

The Inkwell

We are a writing collective founded on Discord that currently includes 20+ writers all helping each other on the climb to completed works.

Book preview

Hanging Hope

Written by Kuma Harley

Sequel to Longclaw, Short Candle

The crowd jeered, all dressed for an event most would assume was a party or a gala. But this was no ball. There would be no liquor or music, for one. 

Not for her, at least. The hemp rope around her neck would see to that. 

With her hands bound behind her, there was little chance for her escape. As if she wanted to. Across the crowd, her onyx eyes found a matching pair beneath the rim of an oilskin hat. A gaze so often cunning and conniving now swam with grief, and as the sheriff announced her crimes, the man it belonged to turned away, the white pelt in his arms flashing in the late afternoon sun. 

How low the candle burns, the woman thought as the floor vanished beneath her.

❖❖❖

Koda woke with a gasp, hands flying to her neck. A quiet nicker preceded a soft snout filling her vision, and she reached up, running hands along the tan-spotted hair. I’m okay, she murmured, patting the snout as she met quiet, soulful eyes. I’m okay, Fletch. Was just a nightmare.

Looking around, her brows furrowed. Solid oak walls, a feeding trough, hay lining the floor, and of course, her four-legged friend of eight years. She’d fallen asleep in Fletch’s stall again. The horse in question heaved a breath across Koda’s face, and the woman smiled wanly. I know. Been happenin’ a lot lately.

If that wasn’t an understatement, she didn’t know what was. But nearly being lynched could do that to a person. Even now, four years after the fact, she still felt that hemp rope against her skin, felt it going taught as a sense of weightlessness—

She swallowed the memory and used the offered snout to pull herself up. Running a hand along the mare’s solid neck, Koda weaved around her to open the stall door, allowing both to step out. Hand back on the muscled neck, she led the horse out of the barn and into the chilly morning air, her breath swimming in visible clouds. 

When Fletch stamped a hoof in the dark dirt, she chuckled, Patience, my friend. In response to words spoken not in the white man’s tongue, the mare threw her head and the woman vaulted onto her back with ease.

Not waiting for a signal, the horse turned to the east and started walking, gradually picking up speed until they were bolting out the ranch’s gates and into the woods beyond. Where they were going, Koda couldn’t tell. Fletch had a mind of her own and an instinctual knowledge of when and where to be. This