Isabel Nee

Isabel Nee loves reading, writing, science, birds, and mythology. She sporadically practices archery, and is known to research bizarre genetic diseases which she then inflicts on her characters. Isabel has had prose and poetry published in elementia magazine and Showcase Selections ~ 2016. She is currently writing a YA fantasy novel, and hopes to some day become a professional novelist. Isabel lives in Kansas where she hatches chickens and (she would like to think) great ideas.

Will of Bequest

The wrong aunt had died. At least, in my opinion. Aunt Fiona had never been a welcoming woman, and she’d become truly frigid toward me a few years back. Truthfully, I wished she was the one who’d died, not my gregarious and soft-hearted Aunt Josephine. But Great-aunt Josephine was the eldest sister, so I suppose […]

Devil’s Alley

A narrow alleyway, generally known as Devil’s Alley, separated the business block and housing development. On one end of the alley an artist had built a fancy arched entrance between the brick side of a store and a high wall around the housing area. It was called the Devil’s Doorway; not because it was particularly […]

The Thirteenth Cat

Delilah loved cats. She had twelve already, all of them strays that had followed her home. They were reds, blues, tabbies, tortoiseshells, calicos, every color imaginable. Except pure black. Her parents wouldn’t let her have a black cat, though Delilah thought it silly. Her friend, Carlton, was terrified of black cats. Of course, he was […]

The Trouble with Rumors

It had been a tranquil summer day until my sister stepped on the snake. She hadn’t seen the long black creature in the grass until it reared up and struck at her. I couldn’t really blame it. After all, my sister had stomped her foot down on the thing’s back. I probably would have struck […]

Blood is Thicker than Water

I couldn’t hear the blood-magicker approaching, but I knew she was there. I cowered back in the little corner made by a building that jutted farther into the alley than its neighbors. I could feel the rough stones against my back as I clutched my tattered backpack against my chest and drew my knees up. […]