Gallery ♦
Much as I love the literature community on dA, I find that it's quite hard to find writers with small fanbases and good writing. So here are a few of my favourites:
First up, 
willwriteforhearts has a wonderful style, with a good eye for plot development, and a great vocabulary, especially of adjectives. She writes wonderful prose, with a touch of mystery and morbidity that makes you read it twice.
A good place to start in her gallery is my favourite piece,
Like Cutting Hair“I have a surprise.” Says the second shadow. It stands next to me as I work on my computer, staring at me unwaveringly with a very thin smile. Its been scratching its fingers along the wall for over an hour. My nerves are fraying.
I take a sip from my coffee and avoid looking at it at all costs. I hate its eyes. I hate it. “You’ve said that already.”
“Let me show you.”
“No.” Another sip of coffee. My mother always taught me to look at a person when they talk to me and it’s very hard to break the habit. “I hate your surprises.”
“I like them.”
“Well, I don’t.” Don’t look. I sip the coffee again, my replacement action. Typing on the computer. I have to send a manuscript.
“You do. I’m like you so have to like it too.”
I don’t say anything.
Here’s a secret, friend; I’ve cut off my shadow three times, but cutting off your shadow is like cutting your
Next is 
delirious-eyes has a brilliant arsenal of similes and metaphors. Just saying that "he has clouded eyes" isn't nearly enough. It has to be "clouded eyes like wayward turbulent tornadoes." Of course, these comparisons add so much to their pieces and make them a joy to read. Their style is very distinctive and growing into something even better.
A good place to start would be
perpetually we were both aliveclouded eyes like wayward turbulent tornadoes,
your oak tree limbs were lavished
across the vintage leather sofa that
your mother donated as a wedding gift
"how lovely it is that you're starting your
lives together"
(remember) you took a photograph of my inherited lips and kissed it
ten times with yours,
and i knew i was in the type of infatuation that made
teenage chest cavities palpitate and that finalized with disheveled kisses
on the forehead that spelled out, i want you
i also realized that i couldn't be in love with you when i unearthed your
closed eyelids and bloodied hand grasping an insidious pistol on the hardwood floor,
(the one you erratically mopped in case i somehow slipped)
and i lunged and languished for you to reawaken
(maybe your eyes would flutter open and you would sleepily whimper,
"i'm just drunk, dear")
but you were now buried underneath our cherished weeping willow
(where we shakily uttered our vows in our wedding clothes)
sometimes wh
Go explore. Link me with journals featuring your favourite unknown authors!
Best Wishes,
-Hyper Spider