Opus Sectile

The competition is over, so what? My ex Kendrick is still dead. I lay awake in the castle, awaiting his wee killer. “Come and get me,” I shouted to the world days and days and days ago.
Kill or be killed should be made into a rule in the Land of the Fair−My grandfather the King would approve. Although, the expectation alone may be the death of me.
I’ve thought up a new motto. Hunt or be hunted. More

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About Eva-Maude Calla

I raise a family, work, eat, drink coffee and red wine, and I read. I’ve started writing… Well, in truth, I’ve always been imagining one story or another in my head. The only difference now is that I commit the words on a page. For better or for worse.

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