Lisa VanGalen
Bio
I am a panster by nature, discovering my characters as they reveal themselves. To date, my novel writing has involved the paranormal or magick within a more familiar setting, blending it with mysteries, police procedurals, or thrillers.
Stories (46/0)
How to Mend the Broken Heart of a Dragon
“Dammit! Not another one.” Gravanmore sighed deeply, smoke issuing from his nostrils as he exhaled. “Why do they keep giving me their children?” The earth shook as he paced. “I wasn't even a good father to my own kit, what makes them think I'm capable of raising another two-leg.” The dragon ran his scaled hand down his face as though he could erase the image of the small human seated before him.
By Lisa VanGalen2 years ago in Fiction
Cheeks of Red, Soon They're Dead
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Funny how we equate “hearing” with our ears. This particular scream crawled from the soles of my feet through every piece of skin I had to reach the tympanic membrane without crossing a solitary molecule of air.
By Lisa VanGalen2 years ago in Fiction
Beware the Silent Wood
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The solitary flame flickered as a damp breeze drifted in through the broken glass. Out beyond the edge of the woods, an owl called in the dark. Dry grass rattled as its prey scampered along the ground, intent on escape. Luck was with the mouse, its grey fur blending in with the dying foliage. Not everything that moved in the woods that night was so lucky.
By Lisa VanGalen2 years ago in Fiction
In search of Annalyse
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. In fact, until three weeks ago, they had been monsters elaborately depicted in bedtime stories written and told to scare little children. As the shadow of the air-borne menace passed overhead, Kassador peered out from behind his bedroom curtain. If the villagers ever found out he had wished the dragon into existence...
By Lisa VanGalen2 years ago in Fiction
Of Mushrooms and Memories
I do not know why I have such a fancy for this little café. Tucked into the dingiest alley, hidden behind a dumpster overflowing with month-old trash, it was not well known beyond the locals. The rusted iron door was the least welcoming portal I had found in this foreign city and it intrigued me.
By Lisa VanGalen2 years ago in Fiction
The Angel's Mark
Yesterday was fading from her memory. The joy—no—bliss, she had experienced was beyond description. Claire had tried to rationalize what she had seen. But since no one else had seen the angel fall to the ground, and she had been the only one to rush to his aid, she alone had felt the all-encompassing emotion that pasted a grin on her face and lightened her step. She had believed it would last forever, like the mark on her wrist where he had gripped her arm. That the sign she had been waiting for had arrived.
By Lisa VanGalen2 years ago in Fiction
Welcome to Warmington Falls
“In 1972, hikers in Harriston Wood found a rusty gate standing alone in a copse of dead trees.” Karen read as they walked. “Exploration of the area found no other structures, but local rumours claim the gate was part of an estate which once stood only yards from the stream.”
By Lisa VanGalen2 years ago in Fiction
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