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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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The Proud Princess Underground

Abruptly, he slowed their descent to a scant and floating sway, as if they were leaves, adrift and weightless, sweeping side to side and spinning in an aerial dance, and if she’d been able to ignore the suffocating knowledge of

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The Proud Princess and the Wild Boy

“I’m sorry, princess!” the boy shouted, seizing her hand. And then the ground opened up beneath her. It was simply gone. Screaming, she toppled with him into a void. Continuing the fairy tale which I wrote in Czech and am

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The Proud Princess and Eluded Futures

In the image, manacles glittered around her bare feet. A golden choker like a slave band encircled her pale throat. And she sat on the stone floor beside Darian’s chair while he lounged like a warlord on the upholstery, his

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The Proud Princess and the Spying Wizard

Y’all, I am SO. MUCH. LESS. AGITATED! I still have anxiety out the wazoo, but I’m used to dealing with anxiety out the wazoo. The agitation was making me insane, though. A crisis every five minutes! No, you can’t even

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The Proud Princess and the Scarred Villain

Continuing the fairy tale I wrote in Czech and am translating into English for fun. You might be able to just jump in here with part 5, but if you want to start from the beginning, all the previous parts

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The Proud Princess and the Masked Intruder

After FOREVER, I’m continuing the fairy tale that I found which I wrote in Czech and started translating into English in short bits just for fun! If you want to start from the beginning, the first part is here: The

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“Kneel.”

They never come to kill me, no matter how potently they yearn to. The assassin kneeling behind me reeks of it: the craving to end me. He clamps the fury inside his fists; the animosity burns beneath his shadowed hood,

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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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