Donna Renee
Bio
Hi! Thanks for reading! My hobbies include making coffee, drinking coffee, and starting to write a story and then rage-deleting it when I get the slightest bit frustrated.
Stories (61/0)
Get Rich or Die Trying
Mrs. McGillicuddy from down the street exploded this morning. Dahlia Mason from Unit 119 won a flash drive with the key to access a crypto wallet containing ten million dollars worth of Bitcoin. Jack Devries in the basement apartment got a box that contained nothing but a blank flash drive.
By Donna Renee6 months ago in Fiction
The Day She Disappeared In Dayton
Ahhh, Thanksgiving. Turkey is gross and green bean casserole is downright disturbing, but my Aunt Cathy's mashed potatoes were pretty legendary and there were always tons and tons of rolls with butter and my Nana's homemade strawberry jam. I was nine years old that year. Even though I knew that we wouldn't play dress up in the sprawling, slightly creepy, unfinished basement the whole week like we used to, I was still looking forward to seeing my older cousins and my aunt and uncle who lived in Dayton.
By Donna Renee7 months ago in Families
Baltimore Escape
We drive through Baltimore, heading in the general direction of the harbor. The kids are awake again (did they even nap?) and the youngest is loudly pretending to sneeze in his car seat while the oldest yells excitedly at every city bus we pass. I'm glad they are relatively happy but the noise in the backseat in combination with the heavy city traffic is making me want to jump out of the car and run away. That building looks familiar. I feel like we are going in circles. Fortunately, the GPS knows where the hell we are going.
By Donna Renee7 months ago in Psyche
Nicoryan: Guardian of the Whispering Woods
Nicoryan was invisible. Well, to you he would have been and to anyone else who happened to look up. His leathery, emerald skin was now as smooth as glass and the color of an early autumn sky, stunning blue shot through with feathery gray streaks of clouds. He was barely an indistinct mirage now rather than an imposing dragon many times the size of your average wooly mammoth.
By Donna Renee7 months ago in Fiction
The Lost Children of the Caravan
Arlo yawned and stretched. Something felt different. What was he lying on? Wet leaves? He definitely wasn’t nestled in his warm bed of straw under his cozy knitted blanket anymore. He sat up and shook his head to clear the sleep from his eyes, blinked sleepily, and froze. The enormous eyes staring into his own were mesmerizing pools of swirling lava. Raging depths of red, orange, and green flames. He gulped. These were not the eyes of his mother.
By Donna Renee7 months ago in Fiction
