Rebecca McLeod
Bio
I am a YA-speculative fiction writer with a focus in sci-fi/fantasy. Writing has always been a passionate passtime for me, and has grown into my adult aspirations. For more about me, visit my personal site at www.rcmcleod.home.blog.
Stories (13/0)
The Dream
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. The canopy of the woods cast dancing shadows across the floor of mulched leaves and spider moss and ferns, though flecks of sky snuck through the leaves like rose petals. Past the thick husks of evergreen and oak and the crumbling skin of fallen trees, the leaves thinned into a blanket of moss. And beyond that, stars flickered to life among feather grass, fading and drifting onward. Vibrant, like those peering from behind patches of purple above. Tufts of dandelion seeds and spiria petals sprinkled the breeze like snowflakes before settling to the bed of juniper moss that led from the high-grassed meadow and into the woods. And all the while, the fresh fragrance of wildflowers and honeysuckle would settle across the meadow.
By Rebecca McLeodabout a year ago in Fiction
Catch a Falling Star
Leaves rustled and shuddered as fingers tore through the bushes, twigs snapping as they bent too far. ‘It has to be here somewhere,’ he thought to himself impatiently as he moved to the next line of brush. After all, Saosin Silverstorm had been watching last night’s star shower when he’d seen it: the sharp flash of light that streaked across the sky, much closer than the rest. The entire forest had illuminated as it fell beyond the canopy, and Saosin hadn’t bothered to wait until the dawn.
By Rebecca McLeod2 years ago in Fiction
The King's Son
The world blurred as cobalt eyes opened, the dim torch light outlining the room in hues of warmth that conflicted the dank scent of sea-aged wood. It flickered and danced over his vision as he let his eyes take in the aged oak and cedar. Where was he…? How had he gotten here? He had been at the harbor when…
By Rebecca McLeod2 years ago in Fiction
Lucy
As the morning sunrise peeks between the blinds, she lays with unfurled paws on the cushion beside me, feet twitching as she slumbers half-buried under the blanket. At the sound of the first alarm, she stretches, head lolling back just enough so that deep chocolate eyes can glance at me. Am I stirring, or snoozing the alarm for another few moments? When it stops and I shift, she bolts from the plush surface and dives to find her toy of choice for the day; its hard to choose sometimes, but she makes a quick decision and nimble limbs lunge back to the couch with her.
By Rebecca McLeod3 years ago in Petlife
Bending the Elements:
Speculative fiction is a genre that entices its audience to open their minds and suspend their beliefs in what they know is real and possible and take a leap into something that they wouldn’t fathom happening in reality. The fantasy world of Avatar: the Last Airbender and its sequel Legend of Korra have managed to do this in an exceptional way. Though much of the fandom focuses on characters and story development as reasons to gravitate towards the series, the world building is an exceptional piece of the story as well.
By Rebecca McLeod3 years ago in Geeks
Someone Among Us
Leaves shuddered in the after-storm wind, brisk yet more somber than the raging winds before. Dusky orange seeped into the landscape so that the hues of the leaves and grass appeared a deep bronzy gold. Nasira sighed as toes dipped into the water beneath the dock, ripples dancing over the wavering surface. It had been so long since she’d been able to just…breathe. To take in the musky scent of the nearby forest, drenched in pine and cedar and sage.
By Rebecca McLeod3 years ago in Fiction
The After
Fire streaked across an amber sky, like suns or stars or blazing rain as they fell towards the city. The ground trembled and shook and asphalt splintered as the impact resonated. Shrieks and screams, an ungodly chorus, were drowned as explosions burst through the skyline. Glass shattered and buildings wailed; plumes of dust and ash bloomed over the city as they withered beneath the impact. Sharp scents mixed upon the wind, some I didn’t recognize: that of dust and smoke, but, too, the musk of something burning, and a thick metallic scent that drenched everything in a fragrance of destruction.
By Rebecca McLeod3 years ago in Futurism
