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    Moth Pit: Contemporary Cryptids, #1
    Moth Pit: Contemporary Cryptids, #1
    Moth Pit: Contemporary Cryptids, #1
    Ebook66 pages58 minutes

    Moth Pit: Contemporary Cryptids, #1

    By Amara Lynn

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    About this ebook

    It all starts with a hum, a thrum, a bum bah dum dum.

     

    Every year, the ultimate moth rave takes place in the mountains of West Virginia, unbeknownst to most people. To the community of mothpeople who do know about this moth pit, it's the best kept secret in the country.

     

    For Erris, it's a burden.

     

    With expectations of finding a mate, and Erris having little interest in romance, it's nothing but a tedious chore. Enter Sol, a friend from high school with social anxiety who also wishes for the party to be over. Between the two of them, they might just have a chance at getting their hassling parents off their wings, and as an added bonus, the local toxic pest, Ren. All they have to do is pretend to be together.

     

    Easy enough, right? Except in spending time together, Erris and Sol realize something real might be there after all.

     

    Moth Pit is a 15,000 word contemporary fantasy new adult novella, and features mothpeople, a nonbinary/male romance, fake dating, and a friends to lovers arc. Cryptid and mothman lovers are welcome and encouraged!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAmara Lynn
    Release dateSep 26, 2022
    ISBN9798201783464
    Moth Pit: Contemporary Cryptids, #1
    Author

    Amara Lynn

    Amara Lynn has always been a quiet daydreamer. Coming up with characters and worlds since childhood, Amara eventually found an outlet in writing. Amara loves anything to do with pirates, villains and superheroes, angels and demons. They were born and raised in the Midwest USA, where they remain stuck with their spouse and two cats. They love to write about soft monsters and cryptids, grumpy enbies, and forever will be weak for the grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one trope. When not writing, they are usually watching anime, playing games, and obsessing over their out of control music playlists.

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      Book preview

      Moth Pit - Amara Lynn

      One

      It all starts with a hum, a thrum, a bum bah dumdum.

      I'm in the middle of class at my college when I awake this year, and that thrum thrumthrumthrum is all I can hear. The noise fills my ears, drowns out the professor's lecture entirely, and I'm thankful at times like this that the teacher uploads a recording of the lecture so I can catch up later. With the rhythmic sound buzzing, buzzing, buzzing, the teacher just sounds like a cicada singing to me. I slouch down in my chair so the professor won't give me the stink eye when I pop my ear buds in. I've got to drown out that sound somehow until the end of class, until I have to take off for the next few days.

      Pressing play on my phone, I let the house beats loose in my eardrums, turning it up just loud enough to mingle with the thrum thrumthrum. Awakening is like a beat, deep in your core, like a drum, a rum pumpum. It's an enlightening, a dawning, a lightbulb.

      Or more accurately, a lantern. An open flame.

      And like moths, we gather, drawn to that flame.

      Every. Single. Year.

      Year after year, the same song, the same rhythm, the same beats.

      And I hate it.

      It's just three days, Erris. That's all. Then you can go back to your humdrum life.

      When the lecture finally ends, I shuffle out with the rest of the students hurry outside to the fresh spring air, which still has the slight bite of winter on the tip of its tongue. I hate late evening classes, but I also hate the morning ones, and the afternoon ones. Having a lighter class schedule of college life, even with a full credit hours schedule, is nice, but it's like there's never a good time to do much else. In the morning I'd rather be sleeping, the afternoon is the middle of the day and makes me feel like the whole day is wasted, and in the evening I'm yawning during class and wishing I could fall asleep.

      My phone buzzes in my hands, jolting me. It’s a text from Addie. We’ve been friends since, like, forever, since the first day of kindergarten when we were seated across from each other. Addie took me, too shy to make friends on my own, under her wing, and the rest is history.

      Addie: It's PARTY time! :partying face emoji:

      I can't hold back the sigh that escapes me. I send her a lightbulb emoji. She sends a flame emoji.

      Addie: You Awake yet?

      Me: Unfortunately.

      I send her the gif of Bonnie from Toy Story 4 popping out of the wicker toy box, grabbing her Totoro toy, and reclosing the lid.

      Addie: Meet @ Eddy's? :ice cream emoji:

      Ice cream will not help ease the drum drum drumming. But it sure as hell seems appealing.

      I'm the first to Eddy's, the ice cream place we're absolutely too in love with. It’s a local shop right outside the campus that’s known for strange and unusual ice cream flavors, boasting different random flavors every week. Addie stamps up to me a few moments later, stopping just short of ramming into me. Her fiery red bob of hair—which is naturally black— is a mess that she smooths down when she stops, grinning up at me.

      Where's the fire? I say, my signature greeting to her, because she’s so full of energy she’s always running ahead of the crowd, as if there’s a literal fire.

      She sticks out her tongue and narrows her eyes at me, which are immaculately lined with liner in a way that accents their shape. She's especially meticulous with her makeup, a skill I never had or cared to learn.

      Joke's on you, I'd be the first to get out, she says, as always.

      Yeah, yeah, I reply, waving a hand dismissively at her as we head into the ice cream shop.

      Addie gets a scoop of jalapeno mango and a peach honey, while I opt for mint chocolate chip and elderberry blackberry. As we head back to our dorm room, we lick at our cones, Addie humming happily while I'm inwardly dreading the coming days.

      Ready for the big day? She asks between mouthfuls of her cone, which she's already down to, while I'm only about halfway through my ice cream. I'm the slowest at eating ice cream cones of anyone I've ever met, no matter how hard I try.

      Ready for it to be over already, I

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