Welcome friends, lovers of fiction, supporters of Teaser Tales and the indie authors who share their work on Medium.

“Nobody reads ads. People read what interests them. Sometimes it’s an ad.” — Howard Gossage

It’s been a while since I wrote the newsletter, and there have been some changes since my last. The most exciting development was the raft of six extra teasers that came our way thanks to Ann James. She challenged her team to write a teaser for an undervalued M post, and that criteria evoked a hive of activity in September from the Deluded Custodians, and some great support for writers in the M community.

All other announcements should wait while I share the stack of sixteen splendid stories Teaser Tales has hosted.

August

Our newsletter: Escaping on a Froggy Road Trip Teasing Times’ Summer Newsletter by Posy Churchgate Posy Churchgate

My Life Was Traded for a Single Chicken A darkly witty fantasy about bad luck and a mother’s ultimate betrayal by Vipul Maurya *

The Flight Confessions, Balloons, Exit by May More May More *

What’s Hiding in My Arms A jungle nightmare Monika Gupta Monika Gupta

Interviews from Hell — Teaser It all began after that rain Mariana Busarova *

Soaring without filters We flew above the houses in the dead of night — after our parents had gone to sleep May More May More

September

The Moment Is Gone One second in time Monika Gupta Monika Gupta *

Why? Awake your inner scientist Monika Gupta Monika Gupta *

Is There a Stopover in Bangkok? Timber Needs to Know Ann James

The Fall and the Fallen (Teaser) Cassy’s wedding would change everything forever Cathy Louise *

Reading, Every Way I Can & sharing the love to fellow authors Posy Churchgate Posy Churchgate

Lifting the Skirts of the Victorian Dominatrix ‘Le vice Anglais’ in Regency and Victorian England Simone Francis Simone Francis *

Could This End Up As More Than Just a Tease? Just how creative can you get when you let Jesus into your bedroom Glenn M Stuart

The Adult Adventures of Goldilocks Goldie goes back to the woods to rediscover herself; what she finds is something much more exciting Lorelei Sands Lorelei Sands *

I am The Diner — Not a Historian And I am also deluded but not necessarily a custodian May More May More

What Does It Say? A June and Ralphy Teaser Tale: June is Writing All of the Dialogue Since She’s Always Putting Words in Ralphy’s Mouth Anyway Ann James

Dominatrices, Dungeons, and Dragons Nothing beats real-life experience R Klemek *

Speakers’ Corner

August/ September views were very healthy, and their conversion to actual reads continued on the usual trend, but the volume of teasers we received rose. It was mighty exciting to read and share so many stories from a variety of talented writers; people who have discovered that a cunningly crafted teaser can drive traffic to content that may otherwise languish in the doldrums, overlooked and undervalued.

I despair of the current trend (with algorithms and short attention spans) for seeking and only consuming what is newest. C’mon, life has surely taught us that the latest is not necessarily the best! Dust off your older material, and write a teaser for a classic!

Suggestion: A short teaser is the ideal vehicle to * whip up interest in a less-recent project * draw readers to a story of which you’re particularly proud * shine more light on a piece by your go-to, favourite author.

It also bears repeating that the image you choose can do some heavy lifting, alongside a title that makes readers curious.

Okay, okay I’ll climb off my soapbox. If you’re here reading this, you probably follow the publication and/or write for us — you’ve read our guidelines and embraced the concept, but please spread the word to your friends. Aha! Why not write a teaser for a friend?

“If you want to lift yourself up, lift up someone else.” — Booker T. Washington

Teasing Times News

I am handing back the reins to ✍ Posy Churchgate, she will revert to the sole editor of Teaser Tales. It won’t be so different, she already handles most of our admin. I am too rarely on Medium.

My series Ever After, Never Together has almost reached its conclusion on M. I’ve begun to serialize it on Substack, [One Page at a Time]. It’s free to read and that’s where I shall be relocating my fiction. Whenever I publish a chapter there, I remove the paywall on the M version ~ so if you like romantic fiction in the fantasy, fairytale genre, please dive in and enjoy (comments are very welcome).

While I’ve enjoyed my time as editor of Teaser Tales, reading and publishing the wide variety of teasers, I suspect I failed the mission to draw more fantasy writers into the fold. I’ll continue to write teasers that promote my work and other people’s stories until I’m ready to step away from Medium.

May More (the brains and energy behind the Cocktail Club) recently scaled back some of her ‘editorial extras’. What does that mean for our writers? Only a curated collection, rather than every article published on Teaser Tales, will make it to the Cocktail Club round-up on Substack. But Posy will continue sharing each teaser to X with its friend link (Tip: if you use X, make sure your link is in your M profile).

The editors agreed a while ago that our publishing schedule would be 10.00 GMT weekdays — we heard nothing but crickets at the weekend! Seriously, we’re looking out for your interests, having registered that stories with a go live of Saturday or Sunday garnered less views. If you wish your teaser to go out on a specific date (even a weekend), please add that in a private note when you submit, so Posy can do her best to accommodate you.

“Marketing is no longer about the stuff that you make, but about the stories you tell.” — Seth Godin

Topics / Tags

One of the recent changes on M is that editors now specify ten topics that are typical for their publication. Before I share those that Posy chose, may I remind you that 1 topic must always be either flash fiction or nonfiction. This is important because it sorts your teaser onto the correct feature page of Teaser Tales.

Flash Fiction * Nonfiction * Microfiction * Short Story * Community * Teaser * Humour * Promotion * Fiction * Sharing *

Using alternatives will flag your post up as ‘off topic’ when you submit, but the editor regards the other eight topics as advisory, not exclusive.

All that remains to say is thank you dear friends for reading our teasers, writing our teasers and please keep it up — the community needs you!

“If your actions inspire others to dream more, learn more, do more and become more, you are a leader.” — John Quincy Adams

Teasing Times News ⏰Submission Guide ✍More Teaser Tales 💼

The Moment was Traded for a Victorian Dragon was originally published in Teaser Tales on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Previous chapter. Vinca and Millville are starcrossed fae lovers — forced apart due to their king’s jealousy. Millville was bespelled into the form of a sentient fox and exiled.

In his absence, Vinca has raised a son, and kept it secret if he’s Millville’s heir or the king’s. Millville has been hunting a vampire and is closing in. Some chapters contain mature content.

Millville sat patiently, his black paws nestled in the dewy grass that surrounded a shabby stone building, filled with the sounds of restless cattle. Since the sun had set, sinking behind the rocky crags, he’d been watching a lone bat that had launched from a window in the western turret of Jesper’s abode. Its flight took it downwards, presumably to feast on the insects amongst the leafy tops of the trees. Now the sky had drained from shades of apricot to murky violet, the bat flitted back to the turret and out of sight.

Millville stood. He stretched, front legs straightening, while pushing his rear end with its bushy tail in the air — it was time.

His paws were soundless as he approached Jesper’s yellow-stoned castle, the structure boasted a turret at the four compass points of its curtain wall. Millville kept to the lengthening shadows and slunk under the raised portcullis, entering the courtyard without being detected by the castle guards. Once inside, he paused to listen, twitching his black-tipped ears he could sense the origin of any murmuring voices.

The daywalkers in Jesper’s employ may once have been soldiers, but had grown sloppy in their guarding routines and slovenly in appearance. Tonight, the two near the gate, dressed in scuffed boots and stained livery, were absorbed in a game of dice. They were hunched over a barrel, having set their weapons too far aside to be grabbed in an instant. Both circumstances made Millville’s task easier. He was also grateful to note their gambling included drinking from flagons of ale. He hugged the wall, where the shadows were darkest, and easily passed unnoticed.

Foxes see well in the gloom, due to their nocturnal hunting habits, and it was no disadvantage to Millville that the braziers weren’t yet lit. Better still, the stone corridor beyond the entryway was empty, its many doorways left unmanned. He padded onward, ever vigilant, the white tip of his brush almost skimming the flagstones, until he detected sounds of occupation. Raised voices echoed nearby and, because there were no guards, he was able to draw closer, unseen. He hovered outside an open doorway and eavesdropped on the heated conversation within.

“We set sail tonight. Can I trust that this, at least, is something you haven’t bungled? That everything is prepared?”

The cultured tone that was hectoring, he assumed, was Jesper’s.

“Yes Sir. All you require is already aboard the ship.”

“My coffin?”

“I saw to it myself: It’s stowed in the hold, alongside two chests of gold and silver.”

“You have my mirror?”

“Of course, Sir; wrapped in silks, secreted in the compartment beneath your coffin.”

“The captain–he believes I shall be in my cabin, never to be disturbed?”

“Sir, he is being paid double the going rate; the captain will neither ask questions nor disobey.

“Wine and vittals–?”

“To be left outside the cabin door, Sir.”

There was a pause, filled by the rustling of parchments being rolled, and feet pacing; then the vampire–Jesper–spoke again.

“Who are the other passengers?”

“The usual, Sir. Merchants and their attendants. A pastor, a doctor and his three daughters.”

“Daughters, you say?”

It seemed the servant’s answer had caught Jesper’s full attention.

Millville padded close enough to peer through the back of the door, and was able to catch his first glimpse of his adversary–the monster who was sire to the vampire princess. Torchlight flickered on the male’s arrogant profile. Jesper had hawk-like features: an aquiline nose, and deep-set eyes in a gaunt face. Even by the meagre light his voracious hunger, evoked by the mention of three young women, was plain to see.

Shortly after that, having received his orders, the servant bowed and left the room, carrying a bundle of scrolls under his arm.

It is now or never, Millville decided. He closed his eyes, and directed his thoughts towards home, to Talisska and Vinca. He pleaded with his friend and his lover for their assistance, fully trusting that they had joined forces: That Vinca had found a spell to help. He depended on it, and willed her to commence casting now–while Jesper was alone and distracted–and the sentient fox could use the element of surprise.

Talisska stilled, sensing rather than hearing Millville in her mind, his presence was akin to the tickle of someone watching, and willing her to notice. She alerted Vinca, who stood nearby.

“He’s in my head!” she told the sorceress. “He is ready for us to assist.”

When Vinca paused with one eyebrow cocked, Talisska guessed that her friend was willing herself to be receptive to any mind-to-mind contact from Millville. But when she could not feel a connection, she shook her head, wiping away her previously hopeful expression. Talisska wondered if it was because she did not wear a talisman, such as she and Millville did. She’d suggested that to Vinca, who had explained regretfully that a requirement of the spell was that the talisman be a gift, hence she could not make one for herself. Whatever her own barrier, Vinca was grateful for the magical connection the talismans were providing between her lover and her friend.

Talisska’s task had been to make a poppet to represent Millville. Now she regarded her effort resting on the table by Vinca: a fist-sized clay fox. She had modeled it to look as realistic as possible, but she lacked skill and — as an undersea dweller — had rarely seen a fox. Privately, she worried it resembled a dog more closely than a fox. However, kneaded into the clay was an essential ingredient: Vinca’s treasured lock of Millville’s hair. The grimoire had specified including something personal from the subject to imbue the poppet with their essence. It would strengthen the link between that person and the model representing them.

Once the charm was cast, anything that was done to the clay figure in Vinca’s garret would also happen to the real Millville, wherever he was.

“Cast the spell, Vinca,” Talisska urged, while sending a mental message to Millville. “Get ready. Good luck. It’s happening now.”

Vinca stood preternaturally still, reaching her hands towards the clay fox on the table. Her eyelids lowered, only her lips moved as she chanted old languages in a sing-song voice. The fire licking beneath the cauldron flared, the flames taking on a greenish tinge, but Vinca did not stop casting.

The princess tightened her fists so her nails dug into her palms, and almost held her breath, as she willed with every fibre of her being for the enchantment to work.

Millville, as a fox, had retained his traits of diplomacy and cunning, but this battle required speed and strength. He would call upon his academy training, the times when his sword was knocked away or dropped, and only hand to hand combat remained. But this time he was without opposable thumbs!

He crouched to leap, his muscles bunched, and he bared his sharp teeth, while calling on fierce reserves of tenacity and aggression: To fight a vampire, he would need these on a grand scale. He’d pledged to avenge the vampire princess because he’d been touched by her story and horrified by her plight. He’d discovered how to strip Jesper’s hold over her and end her immortal torment, and now her fate rested in his hands. To this end, he called on every ounce of Vinca’s love and magical help to tackle his blood-sucking opponent, and to bring him down.

“Something’s happening, Vinca!” Talisska felt his determination, and her voice was shrill with anticipation.

Vinca’s eyes flew open, and the women watched the poppet in fascination. The clay fox figurine was growing — it doubled, then trebled in size. Vinca had doubled down with her magic, sprinkling the clay with a potion and that, in combination with the incantation she had chanted, was causing the poppet to swell to gigantic proportions.

She was trembling like a leaf, consumed with worry for Millville, as she swiped her clammy forehead with the back of her hand.

“I hope size will prove enough of a weapon.” Vinca fretted.

“Vinca, my love, watch your words. We must channel faith, as well as your magick.”

Tallisska’s tone contained reproof, but she linked their fingers, hoping to unite the sorceress’s consciousness with hers and Millville’s.

“You can do it, Millville,” she said. Not just out loud, but with her mind so that he could ‘hear’ her.

“Catch that accursed vampire and crush him, like you’re a cat and he’s a mouse!”

The first clue Millville had that Vinca’s enchantment was working was a tightness around his neck and pricking in all four paws. The talisman Vinca had made, which he wore on a leather thong, began to warm and vibrate where it rested against his chest. When he looked towards it in puzzlement, he became aware that the flagstones on which he stood were getting further away. His body experienced heat akin to standing close to a roaring fire, making him feel uncomfortable and disoriented. Then the tips of his ears brushed against the keystone of the arched doorway, and he understood how the enchantment had changed him.

He shifted his weight from paw to paw, stretched his neck and lashed his tail — Vinca had given him an advantage over the vampire, alright. Millville’s body had become solid and huge, rippling with muscles, which had expanded in proportion with his bones and claws. In his new form, he would tower over the bloodsucking vampire; one strike of his elongated claws could tear out Jesper’s throat.

At the sight of magnified Millville, a manservant who’d been approaching shrieked and backed up, dropping a candle to the floor before he turned and ran.

“No matter,” Millville thought, flicking over his lips with a long tongue. “Foxes can see in the dark.”

Millville prowled into the room, bristling with menacing energy, and shock registered on Jesper’s already ashen face. The vampire had been an apex predator for so long, he was unaccustomed to feeling like prey, but instinct prevailed. He went on the alert — his fangs extended, protruding from his upper jaw, in preparation to bite. But was there any place on this monstrous woodland beast that they would penetrate, and not be buffered by a wadding of cinnamon fur?

Uncannily, Millville was considering a similar question. Thanks to his increase in size, he could reach the neck of this cold creature with ease, so that became his target. He crouched into his hind legs and prepared to spring, and with one leap, he knocked Jesper to the floor using the force of his body weight. The vampire flailed, fighting him off, with slashes of his razor-sharp nails, but Millville was determined he would not rescind his advantage.

He released a vicious snarl as he bit into the vampire’s throat, rows of sharp teeth puncturing ice-cold flesh which clung unpleasantly to his tongue as hestretched his jaw to get a better grip. He refused to be hindered by disgust, and bit harder, continuing to rip while shaking his head, systematically tearing and shredding through sinews and the main artery, until a gout of dark, almost black, blood was released in a spray.

Despite his throat being ripped out, to the extent he was almost decapitated, Jesper was down but not out. His ancient body had the power to heal, his flesh was already knitting together. The monster kicked and thrashed, fighting for his life. With bony hands he grabbed and punched, pointed nails clawing at his four-legged attacker. He managed to gouge a welt in the flank of the fox, so streaks of crimson gore stained Millville’s ginger pelt and blood dripped to the floor.

Millville fought bravely, but kept a level head; it was important to avoid consuming any tainted blood. He pulled his maw away from Jesper’s throat to retch and spit until his mouth was empty. But he continued to hold him down, with his front paws pressed against the prone vampire’s chest. He’d not forgotten what Hilde had told him, so he moved his head lower and ripped into the pale flesh of the vampire’s chest; needing access to the rib cage. He used the same worrying motion as before, shaking his head from side to side while his teeth tore away strips of cold tissue and muscle. Finally he exposed the white bones of Jesper’s ribs.

There–glinting dully behind the cage of the vampire’s ribs–rested a garnet-coloured jewel. A bezoar Hilde had termed it. The curved bones were in the way, so Millville made the most of his increased size and strength. Drawing his weight into his upper torso, he then dropped it, and pounded the ribs with his front paws, and heard a crack.

Almost all his bodyweight had landed on Jesper’s chest. He repeated the move until he heard a second crack. The monster’s unholy wails had reduced to sounds of rasping and gargling, and his flailing limbs had lost their momentum. Millville bounced his weight downwards one final time, and shattered the vampire’s rib cage. Now he used his front paws in a digging motion, to scrape away flesh and bone fragments until he’d made a gap big enough.

Millville reach into Jesper’s chest with his snout, and used his jaws to lift out the stone.

[To be continued …]

All previous episodes are in this list, early episodes are free to read. Save it and never miss a new chapter, no matter where I publish:

List: Ever After, Never Together : Romance, Fantasy, Magical | Curated by Jacinta Palmer🍂 | Medium

© Jacinta Palmer 2026, written by a human and not AI

Find more from me:🧚‍♀️| 💻 Substack Library 📚| 🎪Twitter |😶‍🌫️About

Go Big or Go Home was originally published in The Kraken Lore on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Mandy

I’ll admit I’ve moved through life like a princess. At school I was popular, I did well in lessons, my confidence won over teachers and appealed to girls my own age. My dad was rich and my home life idyllic, if a little chaotic, with so many of us: Mum had been an only child so she surrounded herself with the family she’d longed for growing up.

Ruth was a loner at school, wearing second-hand uniform and ugly glasses, but she was scarily bright. It wasn’t hard to guess she was there on a state scholarship, but some of the girls were catty about it. I took her under my wing, and they stopped calling names, even wanted to get to know her, but Ruth stayed buttoned up tight — she only lowered her guard with me.

I got the impression Ruth had a bleak home life, that’s why I invited her to stay that first time. Life can be an ugly place without a friend

After that, my family always invited Ruth to join us for Christmas, and a chunk of the summer holidays. She rarely talked about home — clammed up if the topic was introduced. Ruth was incredibly shy, changing into her night attire in the bathroom and wearing a t-shirt over her costume when she swam in the pool. I put it down to being self-conscious about having a boyish figure when I was all curves.

That was lazy thinking. When I grew up and learned about the evils in this world, I suspected Ruth’s awkwardness and avoidance had concealed something worse.

Then we left school, and Ruth and I went our separate ways — we didn’t keep in touch, at first. I knew nothing about her marriage to Mark, and she wasn’t there at Xander and my wedding. Given the choice, I would have invited nobody, my dream was a simple ceremony on a beach, somewhere exotic.

But that’s not Xander’s style. My husband likes the best of everything and needs an audience to admire his good fortune, so we celebrated our union at a grand London hotel with a hundred and fifty guests.

Further down the line, Ruth and I reconnected via social media. We began to meet a few times a year, at a café mid-point between our homes, for a catch-up. By then she was divorced, but she never wanted to discuss details.

I was running my own business, and delighted to learn that Ruth was a successful writer, with several novels out there in the world. They are great, rather dark with twisty plots. I know because she told me her pen name and I’ve read them all.

And I began to wonder if I could trust her with my secrets. Maybe Ruth was the only person who would understand, and could help me out.

Victims is an 8-part fiction series on my Substack: One Page at a Time which is free to read but [reader beware] it has dark themes throughout

An Unexpected Guest

Jacinta Palmer writes 🧚‍♀️| 💻 Substack Library 📚| 🎪Twitter |😶‍🌫️About

Teasing Times News ⏰Submission Guide ✍More Teaser Tales 💼

Life Can Be an Ugly Place Without a Friend was originally published in Teaser Tales on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

As writers, we often think promotion has to be loud, constant, or self-focused. Dunno about you, but I find blowing my own trumpet gives me the giant “ick”. Let’s tackle it from another angle.

One of the most meaningful things we can do is shine a light on each other

A quick recommendation (try using Medium’s new “repost” facility) broadcasts the message: “I’m reading this and loving it”.

Better still, write a short teaser for our publication, and introduce a fellow writer to entirely new readers. It costs almost nothing — but it builds trust, generosity, and community.

“A candle loses nothing by lighting another candle.”
 — Often attributed to James Keller

When writers support other writers, everyone benefits

• Readers discover voices they may have missed
• Writers feel less isolated
• Communities become more vibrant and connected
• Good work travels farther

Teaser Tales is the perfect platform to assist in making an impact.

A single thoughtful mention can matter.

Why not consider sharing a short teaser for a writer or story that you admired? A teaser is very versatile, we accept flash fiction or nonfiction.

• Do it by putting the spotlight on one post, or group a few in a list (as ✍ Posy Churchgate often does).
• Share a memoir that the post brought to mind (our dear friend Ann James is doing this) for female writers
• Write an homage to the writer (as Smillew Rahcuef did)
• Couch your teaser in the style of the writer (as May More has done).

Bring the writer or their post to your audience, and the Teaser Tales followers by including:

• Your favourite paragraph
• The compelling premise
• A line that stayed with you
• Have fun with the image you pick

“The way to achieve your own success is to be willing to help somebody else get it first.”
 — Iyanla Vanzant

Also great publicity is a social-media link with a few sincere words of why you found it so great.

It’s worth remembering that promotion needn’t always be about ourselves. And the strongest literary communities are built one recommendation at a time.

Who’s a writer you’d like more people to discover?

Submit your teaser about their work to Teaser Tales; Posy or I will run an editorial eye over it, and publish. Bingo! And who knows — another writer may do the same thing for you.

“If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.”
 — African proverb

Teasing Times News ⏰Submission Guide ✍More Teaser Tales 💼

Little Steps to Help Writers was originally published in Teaser Tales on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.