Kevin Barkman
Bio
Somehow, my most popular story is smut. I don't usually write smut. I did it once, and look what happened. Ugh.
Anyway, Hope you enjoy my work. I do pour my heart, soul, sweat and tears into it.
PS: Please read more than my smut story.I beg
Stories (62/0)
In the Dark of the Woods
“The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. “A young woman clad in a deep blue dress loomed in the second story window. Flecks of maroon liquid shimmered with the flickering light. Her hands trembled as she turned the latch and swung open the panes.
By Kevin Barkman2 years ago in Horror
Hoard of Shadows
There weren’t always Dragons in the Valley, and frankly few knew what to make of their arrival. Until recently, dragons had been relegated to myth and legend across the world, but as of five years ago, they’ve spread everywhere. Even here in Roarin Valley. In most of the legends, dragons were fearsome beasts with leathery wings that soar, raining hellfire from above. And, maybe that was true once upon a time. But modern dragons share little with their mythological counterparts.
By Kevin Barkman2 years ago in Fiction
Shadow of the Sanctuary
I feel myself running endlessly through the streets, a dark shadow sprawling around me in the moonlight. I fall, hitting the ground hard as the shadow descends above me. I roll to my back throwing my arms over me as the creature bares its talons toward my face.
By Kevin Barkman2 years ago in Fiction
Requiem for Lost Souls
A body hangs by the neck from a tree in the distance. I stare through my binoculars across the glassy surface of the lake. The limp body swings in the light breeze, silhouetted in the light of the rising sun. One of my colleagues backs the trailer down the concrete ramp, dropping the flatbed boat into the water. The engine roars to life as we load up our gear. I climb in and we cut our way across to the little island.
By Kevin Barkman2 years ago in Fiction
Teeth of Loch Tay
So, I’ve been backpacking the Scottish countryside for the last few weeks. When I started, I just picked a small village in the highland. The village of Torridon sits at the base of the mountain Liathach in the Torridon Hills. Honestly, it was the perfect place to start my journey. I bounced from village to village seeing all the sights, meeting some of the kindest and most hardworking people.
By Kevin Barkman3 years ago in Fiction
Sunset over the Orchard
So, reader, to start this off, so there’s no confusion, I just wanted to tell you: I…am a tree. Don’t worry, this isn’t some weird metaphor. I’m not just some tall human comparing myself to a majestic plant. I am one hundred percent, bark and branches, leaves and fruit…tree.
By Kevin Barkman3 years ago in Fiction
Far Away
“Far away, deep into the woods lies a lake. In the center of the lake sits an island. On that island, a pond. It isn’t just any pond, however. Even in the middle of the summer, the hottest day of the year, this pond remains frozen over. On the coldest days of winter, the ice is never more than a few inches deep, just thick enough to walk over without fear. The ice is like glass, providing a neat viewport into the world beneath.
By Kevin Barkman3 years ago in Fiction
Beauty in the Beast
Arabella stares up at the castle spires before her as dark clouds swirl overhead. She pushes open the heavy iron gate. It creaks and groans against the pressure before finally giving way. The winds pick up around her blowing the hood of her cloak into her face. She pulls the hood back pressing on into the overgrown grounds.
By Kevin Barkman3 years ago in Fiction
By the Light of the Dutchman
I stand atop the highest mast, in a crow’s nest towering above the galleon. I’ve always liked it up here, the salty winds whipping through my hair. From this point, the sounds of the bustling crew are nothing but a faint whisper to me.
By Kevin Barkman3 years ago in Fiction
Dead Man Walking
The first time I had a piece of chocolate cake, I was twelve years old. It’s one of the few fleeting memories I have left of my old life. Now, anything I eat turns to ash in my mouth. No taste, only hunger. Well, more accurately…a thirst. Insatiable, unending thirst. The more I drink, the more need.
By Kevin Barkman3 years ago in Fiction
Rider in the Storm
“My car broke down right as the storm started getting bad. Being out in the open, I didn’t think it safe to stay put. It was the worst storm I’d seen here in a long time, winds ripping through nearby trees. Across a field, I caught sight of a barn, dull and gray against the darkened sky. As the rain picked up, I started jogging between the rows of freshly planted vegetables. I was soaked by the time I made it to the massive double doors.
By Kevin Barkman3 years ago in Fiction