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the brotherhood | description


- all Supernatural edition
- general fanfic anthology
- contains no slash, no het, no death fic, only strong friendships, bonds, angst, smarm and hurt/comfort!
- rated from G - R
- 6" x 9" trade paperback size
- 440+ pages of text, AGaramond 11pt
- 12 original stories, not reprinted from online
- perfect binding, full color cover, all text
- $35.00 US plus cost of shipping

the brotherhood 8 | excerpts

Best Served Cold | written by Geoffry Woods

Scanning the Yellow Pages, Dean let his thoughts wander. Sam had been a little bossy since… Well, since their run-in with that damned Trickster in Broward County. All Dean knew was that Sam had been practically unhinged on Tuesday, going on about the Trickster making him re-live the day over and over, and then on Wednesday, he was suddenly different. Sam woke up looking older, worn down. Then he’d jumped off the bed and hugged Dean like he hadn’t seen him in forever.

Between The Lines | written by gekizetsu

“Cross your heart and hope to explode into a million pieces, because if you do have ‘em, it’s the last time I’ll ever read you one of these,” Dean said, waving a worn copy of Grimm’s Fairy Tales at him. “Don’t get me busted with Dad.”
Sam crossed his heart.

Wayward Ones | written by Gaelicspirit

Sam didn't reply. From the corner of my eyes I could see his sullen stare through the front window. His jaw muscle was working overtime, wearing his teeth to nubs, twisting the headache I could recognize from the line between his brows into a full-on migraine.

Day Job | written by K Hanna Korossy

Sam was laid out in the backseat of the Impala, Dean’s jacket pillowed under his head and a blanket covering him from neck to folded legs. Drugged and depleted into deep unconsciousness, he hadn’t stirred at the stop of the car nor the sounds of Dean unpacking. He still didn’t rouse when Dean crawled awkwardly into the back with him and crouched by his head, palming his cheek to both check fever and convey silent affection.

The First Wendigo| written by Sodakey

Around a corner, a claw-like branch snags his eyebrow, ripping open a cut that sends blood straight into his eye. He drops next to a gnashed tree trunk and smacks at the sting. Red stains his hand when he pulls it away. “Dean,” he huffs, misery rising in his chest. He’s in way over his head. A hundred salt-and-burns, curses and hoodoo, poltergeists and wailing women, but he doesn’t know this. He’s not supposed to have to know this.

The Family Business| written by Dodger Winslow

“No,” John said definitively. And that was the end of it…until he got his key in the front door. When Dean started in again, John lost his heretofore relatively patient patience. “I said no,” he snapped. “Now drop it unless you want to end up a dead fifteen-year-old who’s never salted anything more dangerous than popcorn.” Shouldering past the flash of disappointment in his son’s eyes, John stepped across the threshold and into the house.

Also stories from Scullspeare, Gert, Jeanne R Gold, Kimonkey7, Maygin, and geminigrl11! 12 stories, over 440+ pages!