Author: Victoria Corva

I’m very excited that BOOKS & BONE recieved a wonderful and very detailed review from Emma Davis of Fantasy Book review. It really gets into the heart of the book and preps readers for what to expect.

Probably the most appealing, and effective, aspect of the book is the deliberate contrast between the author’s humorous and rather wholesome approach to the story and the expectations a reader might have due to the setting— an underground crypt in which necromancy is the only game in town. That, of course, is a huge part of the fun.

Read the full review here: more

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Glowing Feather

Their son shuffled his wings, staring down at the floor.

He was young for an aetherial and not yet grown into his fire. He looked like a star-dusted human with sunset-coloured wings.

‘It’s just that we expect you to tell us when you visit Earth,’ said his mama.

‘Whatever were you doing there?’ his other mother added.

He shrugged, still avoiding their eyes. The feathers of his wings started to glow.

His parents exchanged a look. ‘That means –‘

It must be love.

Written to the ‘Glowing feather’ prompt submitted by one of my lovely patrons.

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay.Read more

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The little boy huddled tighter under the play gym, tears stinging his eyes. It was getting dark and this was the only familiar structure he’d seen.

A small furry face appeared in one of the holes at the side of the gym. Yellow eyes, white fur, and a pink velvet nose. A small cat.

The boy stared. He willed with all his heart for it to come into the gym with him, but he didn’t want to reach out and scare it.

After a moment, the cat said, ‘Are you lost?’

The boy nodded, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

The cats ears flicked back, then forward again.… Read more

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He looked up from his sickbed. His saviour worked at a desk, her back to him.

Strands of drying herbs hung from the ceiling around her, and her shoulders moved rhythmically as she worked a mortar and pestle. A thick lizard-like tail twitched nervously behind her, incongruous against her mostly human form.

She half-turned, revealing a
a full mask of polished amethyst. Only her eyes, so dark they were almost black, were visible.

‘You’re awake.’

‘I slept well, thanks to you,’ he replied. Tentatively, he felt the bandages wrapped around his middle. Tender, but not excruciating. They were fresh and unstained, and smelled of a faintly floral lotion.… Read more

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‘Is that …? Here, girl! Come here!’ He patted his knees.

A speck against the moon spiralled toward him. Upturned nose quivering. Long ears twitching.

It hit his chest in a mess of leathery wings and pinprick claws. ‘Oh good girl,’ he said, stroking it behind the ears. It vibrated happily and climbed up his shirt to nuzzle his chin.

‘You’re such a good girl. Here.’ He took a twig from his pocket and flung it out into the night. ‘Fetch!’

It flapped wildly after it.


Microfiction written to a prompt by one of my lovely patrons. The prompt: ‘bats like puppies’… Read more

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The New Sound (Short Story with RockstarLit Book Asylum)

I was delighted to be invited to take part in To Be Continued, a collaborative short story feature hosted by RockstarLit Book Asylum. 5 Authors work together to write a short story, without knowing who each other is, communicating, or seeing any of the story beyond what came before.

So of course with each new update after mine, I’m just as surprised as you are!

Check it out here:

Image by Joshua Detherage from Pixabay.… Read more

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As Easy As Falling

‘And you think I can do it?’ she said, crossing her arms and folding her wings more tightly around her. Below her feet, the cliff fell away to mist and snow.

The owl on her shoulder nibbled her beak affectionately. ‘It’s as easy as falling,’ she said.

The girl laughed, a strained sound. A gust of wind kicked up, lifting her hair and skirt and rustling her feathers.

Then she spread her wings and took the leap.

Flying, as easy and as hard as falling.

Image by Pexels from Pixabay.… Read more

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Boys Kissing Microfiction

Earlier today Maggie Stiefvater tweeted about how she got a homophobic message about The Dreamer Trilogy, and I don’t know, it especially made me cross for some reason. I guess I’d been primed by the day already.

So instead of venting I decided to fill the world with microfiction about boys kissing instead. I asked five commenters to reply with their favourite prompt or trope and I would write a toot-long microfiction about it on Mastodon.

Here are the results.

Up Against the Lockers

Dizzily, he pulled back, delighting in their breaths mingling. He opened his eyes to see Ed making a face.… Read more

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She drifted down lonely paths, the flowers in her hair withered black and her bare feet thick with mud and ashen with cold.

Where laughter called, she turned away. Where smiles bloomed to greet her, she fled.

It was alone that he found her; hovering just above a rocky cliffside, the ragged ends of her dress swirling about her legs, her tangled hair afloat around her.

There was a power about her that gave him pause, but nonetheless, he approached.

‘I saw you, at the solstice,’ he said. ‘Flitting about the rocks. My sister called you over, but you fled. You looked so sad.… Read more

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Small Part

When she found the clawed prints gouged deep into the forest earth, she was afraid, but she was also curious.

So she brought a little food every night, and watched from the boughs of a sturdy oak.

The meet was often carried off by foxes and cats, furtive in their movements. The veg and fruit pecked at by birds that were quick to take off.

But on nights when the sky was clear and the moon cast a silver veil, the creature would come.

Lumbering, hulking. A tall shell coated in moss and ridged with spikes. Long clawed feet, legs set to the sides like a lizard.… Read more

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