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Jo is a corporate professional, excelling in a field she no longer loves. Her passion is writing daily quotes for creators, exploring flash fiction, editing a collection of short stories and trying to avoid working on her novel.



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Jo Hawk     (Tier II Rising Star Author )

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Books



Fantasy
(Fic)
Ralph and the Prince
by Jo Hawk


This story began as a piece of Flash Fiction. There is where it would have ended, except for the characters. The Prince and Ralph are persistent. They want to tell their story and demand I tell it. I would be honored if you took two minutes to read this first piece and let me know if you want to read more. Thanks "Sounds interesting!"

Into the Night

Ralph’s legs burned. He clutched his ribcage and rubbed the twitching muscle which begged him to stop. The intercept lay two hundred yards ahead. Holding the flaming torch higher he inhaled, hardened his resolve and pushed himself forward.

His blood beat in his ears and he struggled to quiet his breathing. He slowed, as he approached the archway. Moving with caution, he allowed the flames to illuminate his surroundings and he checked the shadows. No one lurked, no sign of ambush. Be...







Literary Fiction
(Fic)
Gathering of Souls
by Jo Hawk


A collection of short stories. Each story showcases one person and their world. Stick around to find out how they are all connected. "Sounds interesting!"

No chapters posted yet.




Literary Fiction
(Fic)
Flash Fiction Collection
by Jo Hawk


Tall tales, snippets of conversations, general musing or dark thoughts from a disturbed mind, all retold in a few words. What ideas lurk in the corners of a writer's imagination? You can find out in a flash. "Sounds interesting!"

Repeating History

I took the stairs, two at a time, stuffing my gun into its holster as I tried to ignore the heavy strap digging into my shoulder. It was early, and I prayed as I approached her apartment.

“Please, be awake.”

Closing the door softly, I listened. Someone was in the kitchen. Relief washed over me as I peered around the doorjamb. Her small, frail frame bent over the sink. The house-dress hung on her like a worn rag, and white nurse shoes appeared too big for her thin leg...







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