reedsymarketplace
Assemble a team of professionals
reedsystudio
The writing app for authors
reedsylearning
Writing courses, events and memberships
reedsydiscovery
Get your book reviewed
reedsyprompts
Weekly writing prompts and contests
Writing courses, events and conferences
Upcoming events
Live Editing #4 with Noah Charney
January 26, 2026
Raising the Stakes: Build Tension on Every Page
January 19, 2026
Level Up Your Writing in 2026
January 18, 2026
Previous events
First Impressions: Rocking the First Line and Paragraph
January 12, 2026
Learn how to succeed as a writer from the best in the business.
Every writer needs a Studio
Check out our writing app for authors!
Menu
More apps built by Reedsy
Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2023
Submitted to Contest #268
“I want to apologize” She just stood there. Eyes barrelling through him. He had overstepped. That’s not to say she didn’t deserve some retribution but… As much as it pained him, he had undergone some soul searching since the incident. He spoke to friends, did some meditating, some shower thinking and had regretfully arrived at the conclusion that yes, he had in fact overstepped. “I overstepped,” he said, shoulders shamed and shrunken. “You overstepped?” she said, as her arm found a spot in the doorframe to...
Submitted to Contest #200
“Come on in,” he said, an octave too high. He wiped away the empty space with a graceful arm and welcomed her into their home. A green butler, stilted, awkward, and unsure, but in his head was only poise and grace. Appearances were crucial. She could not find out it was him. This was a fair fight.She did not know him.He did not know her.For all she knew, he was always this calm and hospitable. Unflappable. Forged in tougher stuff than she was. She was a bad mother, and her child, Grace, was a little asshole. Who cares what she does for ...
Submitted to Contest #193
“I’ll take you.”“No, thank you,” I said, drawing it out.“Stop?” “Would you? Stop. Please.” She took a sip of coffee and slammed a bite of toast. She looked at me as it all went down. I looked back. “You’re being weird,” she said. My half-sister was overbearing. She felt she had a lot to make up for. Years spent gallivanting and what not. Tattoos in Indonesia administered the traditional way. A shaman, a branch, a nail. An optimal amount of pain and a suboptimal amount of sterility. She had to fly home because of the ...
Oops, you need an account for that!
Log in with your social account:
Or enter your email:
6 likes
