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The Proud Princess & His Tormented Music

As twilight welled out of the day, his music welled out of the night. It played through her hair, her breath, and wound windingly around her heart… luring her near, inviting her in… Continuing the fairy tale which I started

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The Proud Princess and A Forbidden Love

His skeleton hands scraped disturbingly pleasantly across her cheek, and scraped through her hair, and his rough-tongued words scraped near her ear: “I will always find you.” Continuing the fairy tale which I started in Czech, which veers like a

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The Proud Princess & Her Distorted Heart

“Fascinating as this is,” Darian physically stepped in between them, the skeleton half of his face in a grinning rictus while the half with skin was grimacing, “we’ve gotten off topic. Damarishka, were you hurt in the fall, or when

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The Proud Princess & the Very Bad Winding Back of Time

“How can you grouse at me now, Cat?”“There is always time for grousing, my lady!” The dragon wheeled backward again. “Cease and desist!”“I don’t know magic!”“Very obviously you do.” Forward the dragon flew as Damarishka fell and Whisker groused onward.

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Decades Ago, Two Girls were Too Smart…

Decades ago, two girls were too smart to pay attention in class, and instead of heeding their teachers, they would exchange journals in which they wrote stories together… One girl would write characters who were brash and brassy and bold.

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The Proud Princess & the Cruel Mimicry of Love

By what cruel mimicry of ‘love’ should I—a man reduced to a thing which cannot touch you with softness, cannot kiss you with—what right have I to a woman like you? You of passion and flesh, of potential and ardent,

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The Proud Princess and His Music

“You loved ravens. You fed them from our bedroom window every eve, with the sunset around you like a blazing stage as you leaned out in your gauzy night things, your hair unbound, shimmering in the breeze…” His gaze misted

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The Proud Princess & the Chain of Human Agony

“She’s calling for you, you little bastard!” one of the hooded figures bellowed toward the castle. The castle’s double doors crashed open. Young Darian stepped out onto the stair landing, wearing buckled black boots, torn trousers, and a billowing white

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The Proud Princess & the Monsters in Dreams

“Have you ever killed before?” she asked the boy. He didn’t answer. It was answer enough. “You don’t know the feel of blood on your hands,” she murmured. “And I do not think that a soul which began innocent will

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All the Wishes and Whispers and Sibilant Hisses…

The Proud Princess continuation is on the horizon, I promise! I was distracted by expanding one of my favorite stories ever, a romantic and faintly gothic fairytale novella… I wrote the bones of this tale one snowy New Year’s Eve,

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Click here to read and download (for free) the story of a cursed girl who cannot die and finds a bruised boy under her roses every day...

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Sonya Lano

Sonya Lano

When I was twenty-two, I ran away to Prague, where I now sing to my black cat (who collects dustballs in her whiskers), eat chocolate for breakfast, and have lemon tarts every Thursday.

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