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@mcwrites27.bsky.socialSep 27, 2026, 5:33 AM

The #SundaySnips Word of the Week is 'turn' - minor CW for descriptions of teen drinking - sometimes the best fun you can have is breaking curfew to party in the woods around a bonfire. This scene is a tried and true warning of the dangers and delights of the mixed punch bowl.

The Sunday Snips word of the week is 'turn' - the following is an excerpt from my novel WIP Canary featuring the word of the week - minor content warning for descriptions of teen drinking - The night started to turn to blurry smears of light and laughter with each sip of the barn booze Tommy had handed me. Bekah was right. It tasted like water and sweet tea and knocked the sense right out of you. I only realized when I was gripping the hay bale under me for stability and kept swaying and laughing to myself. Bekah eventually loosened up, too.
@woodenvelt.bsky.socialSep 27, 2026, 5:05 AM

Welcome to #SundaySnips! A once-a-week prompt game for writers hosted by myself and @hookandquillpress.com

Leaves and weather are the usual things turning this time of year, but in a story it could be anything: fortunes, attitudes. Who knows?

#WritingCommunity #Writingprompts #Writesky #HQpress

A graphic advertising the Sunday Snips hashtag, a weekly blue sky writing community tag. The word for September 27 is turn. Share a snip from your WIP featuring the word of the week. Use #SundaySnips and don't forget to include alt text. Synonyms, vibes, and variations on the word are welcome! Hosted by woodenvelt.bsky.social and Hook and Quill Press. The background is orange and red fall leaves. There is an image to the left of a yellow octopus stuffed animal wearing a scarf and black frame glasses sitting in the fork of a tree.
@peterrobin.bsky.socialSep 21, 2026, 9:31 AM

#SundaySnips

September 20 "crisp"

A Morris Minor on Mars

Daryl has bluffed his way into Hugo's home and finds a party in progress. And that he's out of his league.

They drove to what appeared to be a fairly modest fifties modernist house. “Is this Mr Frye’s house?” asked Daryl “No, it’s Mr Albany’s house, but of course it’ll be theirs after the wedding.” Once inside, the semblance of modesty vanished. They stepped into one large room which appeared to go on forever. It was full of people in evening dress, there were tables with crisp white table cloths, topped with gleaming silverware and sparkling crystal glasses. Half way down, there was a man at a grand piano, accompanied by a small chamber orchestra, playing light classical music. In the distance, at the far end of the room, a row of ceiling to floor windows was cantilevered up so that the guests could walk out onto the balcony and admire the harbour reflecting the setting sun. Daryl whimpered. “Did you say something?” asked Frye’s assistant. Daryl rallied and got back into character, saying with a grin, “You didn’t have to throw me a party, canapés would have been fine.”
@scarletvmitchell.bsky.socialSep 21, 2026, 2:28 AM

#SundaySnips

Nora‘s first impression of Bayle is, “Wow, he sure is a butler.🤷‍♀️”

Not a promising start to a romance, but his employer sings his praises.

doctor turned to the butler and gestured slightly. “Mr. Chevaliet, would you mind bringing our guest something to drink? Do you want tea? We have a good coffee from Guinevere. Or something more local to cool you? My man here mixes a lovely fruit refresher.” “I’m fine, thank you,” Nora said, not prepared to take up space here quite yet. “Ah, well, if you don’t mind, I’ll have one.” The butler gave a crisp bow and left the room silently. “Wonderful. So, let’s discuss why you’re here.” The desk was cluttered with piles of packages, cartridges, and even a few books that looked like they hadn’t been moved from their spot for years, even though she knew he hadn’t been living here for more than a few months. The old man looked like he lived in his chair.
@woodenvelt.bsky.socialSep 20, 2026, 10:43 PM

Sorry #SundaySnips!

I am crazy busy this weekend finalizing our move to a new city several hours away. I will not be engaging as much as usual. 🙏

@nightoffallengods.comSep 20, 2026, 6:41 PM

#SundaySnips

Strawberries aren’t exactly a fall fruit, but oh well they’re where the word popped up 🤣

Roderika gets some fresh strawberries as a treat on the first day of her journey.

… dang it now I want fresh fruit.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompt

Reka was left holding her fruit by the carriage. She rooted around in the napkin for a piece and turned to go up the steps. As she went up, she bit down and had to catch her balance to keep from falling up the steps. The strawberry was perfect. An explosion of sweet juice flooded her mouth through the crisp flesh. She could smell the flavor almost as much as taste it. As she chewed her delightful treat, she jumped up into the carriage to finish off the rest. When Mary came back with a half full bucket of cold water, Reka had one berry left. She looked up, mouth still full of luxurious fruit, and stood. "Mawwy," she choked out before swallowing, "Mary, thanks for getting the water. Here let me help."
@acturek.bsky.socialSep 20, 2026, 5:39 PM

Drisal never has and never will explain these dissociative episodes to his son.
#SundaySnips #crisp #fantasy #WritingCommunity #writingprompt

@maximejaz.bsky.socialSep 20, 2026, 4:21 PM

#SundaySnips

@amandabryana.bsky.socialSep 20, 2026, 4:15 PM

#SundaySnips

Piper and the pack have been living together for a few months, but Jordan has only just told his parents what kind of relationship he's in. Now it's time for Piper to meet them, and they're not anticipating a warm welcome...

I let Albie know where we were going and when we’d be back, and kissed him and Mason goodbye, then we stepped into the crisp winter sunshine. I took Jordan’s hand and he smiled. ‘I think you should probably spend the walk telling me about your relationship with your parents, and exactly what you’ve told them about our little family.’ ‘I do normally get on with my mum and dad, but we disagreed about the direction my life should take. They bring it up every time I mention work being tiring or stressful, which is most of the time.’ ‘What did they want you to do?’ ‘They wanted me to be a concert pianist.’ ‘You’ve never mentioned playing. You might be in trouble for that. Presumably you’re very good.’ ‘I am. But I hate performing and only like playing when I want to. They made me do shows when I was a kid, but I never got used to it.’ ‘If I bought a piano for the house, would you play for me?’ ‘I would, but there’s no need to buy one. One of the things my mum’s been asking is whether I’m taking my piano. It’s one of her criteria for if I think this is going to be forever.’ ‘And what did you say?’ ‘That I wasn’t sure if there was room. But really I wasn’t sure if everyone would want a piano in the house.’ ‘Who makes the rules?’ ‘You do, Master.’ ‘Correct answer. Good boy. Would you like your piano at home?’ ‘I would, but it’s ok if you don’t want it.’ ‘I’d love it. We can play together.’ ‘I’d really like that. Master, I’m worried you’ll end up arguing with my mum. She’s got really strong opinions on everything, and she’s going to share them.’ ‘Darling, stop for a second.’ I pulled him tight against me and kissed him until he started to relax. ‘I promise I’ll stay calm. I’ll be polite and friendly regardless of what your mum throws at me. For you, for me, and because I am associated with The Complex and I’m not doing a single thing to tarnish Tank and Gigi’s reputation.’ ‘Mum does like Gigi.’
@bethturnage.bsky.socialSep 20, 2026, 3:37 PM

#SundaySnips #BookSky #QueerLit #QueerBooks #PsychologicalThriller #IndieBooks
You have a week left to get an ARC copy from Booksprout. And yes, you can read it as a standalone: booksprout.co/reviewer/rev...

adjusted my cufflinks for the third time in five minutes.... The black suit was new—Italian cut, expensive enough to make my credit card wince. But it was worth it for the crisp way the fabric fell across my shoulders, sharp and professional armor that announced I knew exactly what I was doing.
Which was a lie.

@amritac.bsky.socialSep 20, 2026, 3:34 PM

Quick snippet from my horror novella WIP, that has strong SE Asian folklore, body horror, and toxic romance elements in it.
The word "crisp" for #SundaySnips!

#WritingCommunity #AmWriting #WritingPrompts #WriteSky #HQPress #AuthorSky #WritersCommunity #Horror #5amWritersClub

The word "crisp" for #SundaySnips! Quick snippet from my horror novella WIP, that has strong SE Asian folklore, body horror, and toxic romance elements in it. #WritingCommunity #AmWriting #WritingPrompts #WriteSky #HQPress #AuthorSky #WritersCommunity #Horror #5amWritersClub
@paisley-rose.bsky.socialSep 20, 2026, 2:52 PM

#SundaySnips - CRISP

From the fantasy romcom novella, RESTING WITCH FACE. Some people from town come to wreck Margot's cottage to coerce her into selling her land, but she protects her land and the land protects her.

“You can tell your father than I am not selling my property,” Margot said firmly, holding her ground, “no matter how many petty thugs he sends to trash the place.” The widest one’s nostrils flared, displeased by her assessment of them as petty thugs, although that was all they were to her. “And how are you going to pay for all the repairs,” the tallest Gaspard said, his eyes narrowing at her, “Margot Desrosiers?” It was true, then. There were people in town who knew who she was, knew that she was here, and they just didn’t care. All the better she’d rid herself of all of them, years ago. “I can take care of myself,” she told him, as Augustin stood solidly at her side without intervening on her behalf. “Oh yeah?” Gaspard smacked his widest brother in the arm with the back of his hand, a signal for him to let loose the large stone he’d been holding, hurling it towards Margot’s front window. Her head whipped around, following the trajectory of the rock, only to find the wilting sunflower by her door had tipped over from a passing breeze, intercepting it before it hit the window.
@applesncinnamon.bsky.socialSep 20, 2026, 1:26 PM

#SundaySnips - Crisp

It's always a lovely morning when Felix gets to talk to Henry, but this particular morning is a fine, crisp autumn morning!

The autumn sun was shining cheerfully through the crisp morning, and Felix took that as a good sign. His feet crunched on the gravel, but Henry didn’t look up. The big man was still making last minute adjustments to the crates of vegetables and other goods on the stand, pushing them this way and that to make certain that they were positioned for optimal visibility. Felix couldn’t help but smile at the fussing and adjusted his hat once more.
@walkerharris.netSep 20, 2026, 1:18 PM

Don't normally snip too far past Year 1, but here's a sneak peak of AJ meeting Daniel (his soon to be Love Interest) at the start of Year 2 of Philosopher Queens - my rock romance/drama serial. (New episodes every Monday!)

#SundaySnips

Screenshot of a work-in-progress manuscript with the word 'crisp' highlighted. After I pace around a bit because I have no clue what to do by myself here, I thankfully hear someone pulling into the driveway. I don’t want to awkwardly wait with the door open, so I instead wait in the foyer staring at the closed door until after he rings the doorbell. When I open the door, I nearly do a double take as this guy is hot! Probably six foot, Hispanic with jet black gelled hair, hint of a goatee, and muscles that are readily apparent in his polo that some might say is too small, but fits perfectly in my opinion. He flashes a bright smile and says, “Hello, I am Daniel Diaz from Diaz Construction and Remodeling. Are you Kyle?” “Uh… no, I’m AJ. Kyle, my… uh… dad, couldn’t be here so he asked me to.” I am suddenly painfully aware of my dumpy cargo shorts and Philosopher Queens band t-shirt—only partially tucked in—next to his brilliant white polo with embroidered company logo and crisp dark blue slacks.
@audconnelly.bsky.socialSep 20, 2026, 1:01 PM

got one! and none of this "an eel is a tube" word substitution business 🤣 #SundaySnips #Dogwood3

He looked into her face, her wolfish eyes. He found no lies. When she touched the star-shaped scar in the center of his chest, her pupils grew huge, and the crisp autumn smell that clung to her promised a more peaceful sleep than he’d known in his life. “The old god has given you a terrible curse. All for his own selfish gain. He longed to be rid of it. He did not care what happened to you—he thought only of escaping the Glade, the prison of his own making.”
@woodenvelt.bsky.socialSep 20, 2026, 1:00 PM

Wren finally gets to see Spencer's tattoo.

cw: brief mention of nudity

From book 2 of my romantic fantasy series about a priest of the dead and a thief with a heart of gold.

#SundaySnips #WritingCommunity #Writingprompts #Wrencer

“Fine,” Spencer relented with a sigh. Wren sat back on her heels again, staring up at him from the edge of the bed. Her gown was puddled around her hips leaving the soft, round curve of her breasts bathed in the amber light of the Fains’ lanterns. It was her smile, though, that reckless half crooked grin that made his heart melt in his chest. He would fight his way across the nine hells for that smile. “It was a dare,” he explained. He’d thrown his tunic off at Wren’s urging, but the sash that held it in place still dangled around his hips. “When I was younger, I spent two years in Chaimberley, studying with other acolytes at the cathedral. On one of our free days we went to some hole in the wall ale house near the docks and had more to drink than any sixteen year old should.” “Tattoos, drinking at the docks, streaking across Temple Square,” Wren clucked her tongue at him and shook her head in mock disappointment. “I’m beginning to think you aren’t as gentlemanly as you claimed to be the first night we met.” Spencer certainly wasn’t feeling particularly gentlemanly at the moment. He let his sash and buckle drop to the floor with a thud and hooked his thumb in the edge of the soft woolen hose. Wren’s eyes danced darkly, watching his hands. He slid the waistband down over his right hip, revealing the dark blue inked outline of a skull. No bigger than a golden fenmark, the lines had lost their crisp edge, fading and fuzzing with time. Wren muffled a giggle behind her fingertips. “Bit on the nose, isn’t it?” “It seemed like an excellent choice when I was drunk,” Spencer offered in his defense.
@saranadosfiction.comSep 20, 2026, 11:51 AM

#SundaySnips | crisp

Back into Blood on the Snow, and Sabbat and Viola (plus a certain Sinnlenst-but-not-really) escaping from a Sinnlenst gathering that's gone decidedly sideways

( saranadosfiction.com/2021/02/02/b... )

The tunnel had been sloping downwards for the past few minutes. Now it levelled out and narrowed, the smooth tiles giving way to bare rock floor. “Not far now,” Cervanso’s pet Sinnlenst said. “Should be an opening on the left-hand side, same width as this.” He sounded surprisingly calm, which put Sabbat’s hackles up. Didn’t necessarily mean he was leading them into a trap, but it sure as fuck wasn’t evidence that he wasn’t. *What do you know that we don’t?* Didn’t matter. If he’d led them wrong, Sabbat’d kill him. *Assuming Cervanso doesn’t get there first. She said she’d vouch for him. Far as I know, that means more for her lot than it does for most.* *Where the fuck does she know him from, anyhow?* Not a question he needed to be asking right now. But when they were out of here- His left hand plunged into empty space. He skidded to a stop, grabbed enough of a breath to bark a curt “Here!” in the direction of the other two, and used his momentum to round the corner into the passageway, eyes and ears open for any sign of a hidden Sinnlenst trap. There wasn’t one. Or, at least, not one he could easily detect. Just more dead rock and cold air – though the air in this tunnel tasted different to the one they’d just left, colder and crisper and with the faint undertone of snow. *Fucking hellfire, we might actually have our way out.*
@mcwrites27.bsky.socialSep 20, 2026, 7:25 AM

The #SundaySnips Word of the Week is 'crisp' - I went with crispy here because I don't have the exact word many other places. A rare tender moment in a terse parent-child relationship, but also a closing ritual of the last time a mother does her daughter's hair before she becomes an adult. #WriteSky

The Sunday Snips word of the week is 'crisp' - the following an excerpt from my novel WIP Canary featuring the word of the week - "I don't know," I admitted. "I thought I was just being a good best friend. I mean… shouldn't you want to keep the people you care about safe?" "That doesn't mean running into the line of fire to take the consequences away from people. Pain is meant to teach us a lesson and it's wrong to rob a person of the opportunity to learn," she said confidently with a sigh. "Where did you hear that?" I asked, certain she didn't come up with that ringer herself. "Saw it on a daytime talk show," she smiled. Sitting straight, glasses back on my nose, I watched as mom moved around me to take down my hair. She had me hand her hair spray and mousse for her to work in as the last step to define my loose waves. I'm sure my hair would be crispy and flat by the end of the night, but at least it looked nice for a moment.
@karamoonauthor.comSep 20, 2026, 6:34 AM

#SundaySnips "crisp"

from A Prayer for the Pirate Queen 🏴‍☠️ 💜 ⚓️ currently in third draft revisions

"Midshipmen!" she called across the deck as she strode past. The sailors stood crisply to attention. "Talos is not to help. He's got a gut wound. Find another crew member." The Erapetran boy slumped and whined audibly, but the three trained sailors saluted smartly. Certain of her order being respected, Kallista clipped her way down the steep ladder towards the quartermaster's office.