Kristen Leavitt
Bio
Hey all! I am a recent graduate from BYU in Provo with a masters in PE. I have a passion for the outdoors, physical activity, sports, and health, but I also love writing! I love my husband, parents, and all eleven of my siblings!
Stories (86/0)
My Beliefs Can't Be Summed Up on a Bumper Sticker
If you had asked me in high school what political party I ascribed to, I would have answered firmly, proudly, and adamantly: Republican. If you asked me the same question today, I would likely pause thoughtfully, and then reply, “I tend to vote for policies that more closely align with the Republican Party’s agenda.”
By Kristen Leavitt2 years ago in The Swamp
No Matter the Cost
Furl watched the executions with resignation. Only low-ranking officers and commanders had been found. The rest had either fled before the attack or been smuggled out in the chaos, along with approximately one third of the Kriton invaders. The rest had been killed or imprisoned.
By Kristen Leavitt2 years ago in Fiction
Ransom
Narissa studied her handiwork with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. The two girls before her stood in stark contrast to each other. One was a pale, thin thing with eyes that saw everything but betrayed nothing. The other was short and slightly plump from her years of plush palace service, her expression betraying her fear and anxiety.
By Kristen Leavitt2 years ago in Fiction
Small Smiles
The body was covered in gashes and burns. Blood covered every exposed bit of flesh, an uncomfortable amount of surface. He-Aniah assumed the corpse had been male-wore only a pair of filthy shorts, stained dark red and brown from blood, dirt, and grime. He lay face down, head turned to face the back wall. His arms and legs were splayed in unnatural positions. One of the legs was twisted so badly it had to be broken.
By Kristen Leavitt2 years ago in Fiction
Room of Fire
It was the third time in the past five days that Aniah had heard screaming. It was so faint she’d at first assumed she was imagining it. But, after considering the fact that she was in the fortress-like castle of a psychotic murderer and kidnapper, she decided it was far more likely that the screams were legitimate. They always came from the same area, and she could only hear them from a single room which she was sent to clean daily. The room was completely empty, but she was still made to sweep it out and check for insects every day. In the last five days, she had been delayed just a few minutes in getting to this room three times. Each of those three times, there had been screaming.
By Kristen Leavitt2 years ago in Fiction
A Case of the Run-on Story
“Have you ever wanted to stop talking, but you just kept having more to say?” These are famous words in my family, spoken by my younger sister when she was perhaps eight or nine. She is a bubbly, talkative girl who can turn a three-line joke into a novel. While this skill is impressive, there really are times when you just need to stop talking! Or…writing.
By Kristen Leavitt2 years ago in Motivation
