Miranda Poteet | Updates

The Dragon and the Nightingale, Vol. III Release Party!

Miranda Poteet — Mon, 31 Aug 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Come celebrate the release of The Dragon and the Nightingale, Vol. III! Come mingle, listen and participate in a Q&A with the author, and have a chance to purchase signed copies of the entire series!

You can RSVP and pre-order through Beventi but it is not required.

https://mirandapoteet.com/pages/pre-orders

Since it's October, costumes will be highly encouraged!

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Super Secret Event!

Miranda Poteet — Mon, 31 Aug 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Where: Amethyst and Ink Bookstore, 1814 W Gore Blvd, Lawton, OK 73501.

Stay tuned for more details!!!

RSVP Here: https://www.facebook.com/share/19NfGPZbmq/

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They should have left us to the sea.

Miranda Poteet — Fri, 19 Jun 2026 13:46:52 -0400

They plucked us from turbulent waters,
and took us to their homes on pristine shores,
where the sun sets bloody,
and their hands even bloodier.

They stripped us of our tails and gave us wings instead.
They forced us in to the sky,
so they could curse us from the ground.

And how a crowd gathers under the death of a star to watch it glitter across the black night,
they watch us fall.

But comets are comets,
and the destruction of a person is never as beautiful.

Our feathers burn,
one by one,
and our corpses fall back into the foaming jaws that were far kinder than their mouths ever were.

We sink into briny depths and let the salt fester in our wounds.
We let the crashing of waves above our heads replace the weakened beating of our bruised hearts.
We let the cold water turn to ice in our veins.

Our broken screams from the sky are transformed into lullabies.
We learn to soothe ourselves in hostility.
We learn to sing with teeth sharpened on shipwrecks and jagged reefs.

And when you come for us again,
with your honeyed words and bloody hands,
we will teach you:

You should have left us to the sea.

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Nature vs Nurture

Miranda Poteet — Fri, 19 Jun 2026 13:41:20 -0400

Sometimes I feel as if I was created in a lab.
I feel as if my bones were perfectly splintered into place,
grinding into my tender flesh,
cracking and breaking with every breath I try to take.

Sometimes I feel as if my heart was purposely made too big,
too wide,
too open.
They sewed it to my sleeve,
exposed it to the world,
instead of tucking it safely away beneath an ivory cage.

Sometimes I feel like I was made only to be broken,
over and over and over again.

And other times...

other times I feel as if I forged myself into this hulking beast,
shrouded by soft satin and a curling smile.

Other times I feel as if I took a hammer to my own bones,
crushing the frail porcelain over and over,
until they grew stronger,
until they resembled steel.

Other times I feel as if my heart was ripped from my chest by my own clawed finger,
drug out bloody and raw in a violent act of resistance,
offered out as a form of protest,
to show the world that I am still alive.

Other times I feel as if I created myself a martyr to be sacrificed,
over and over and over again.

Sometimes I am a god, and other times machine.

At all times, every time, I am me.

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How Dare You

Miranda Poteet — Fri, 19 Jun 2026 13:35:07 -0400

I have to remind myself that I was not born angry,
that I was not born with fangs or claws or sandpaper skin.

No.

My teeth and nails were sharpened by the stones you threw at me,
my skin shred apart by the serrated edge of your words,
your knives and swords.

I have to remind myself that I wasn't born into anger,
but rather I was forged into it.

And I have to scream how dare you!

How dare you rob me of my softness!
How dare you make me cruel!
How dare you turn me into a monster and then blame me for the blood I crave!

How dare you turn me into you.

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Resignation

Miranda Poteet — Fri, 19 Jun 2026 13:32:18 -0400

I wish I could make you feel the salt of my tears on your skin,
how it drags across the flesh like gritted sand and leaves it burning.

I wish I could make you feel how swollen my throat gets,
when I choke back my screams in favor of keeping peace,
swallowing them down instead,
like knives against my esophagus.

I wish I could make you understand how terrifying the darkness can be,
when it covers you at night with the unknown,
when the potential it's weighted with suffocates you against the sheets and holds you there.
I wish I could make you fear it like I do.

I wish I could make you feel the emptiness inside,
how it feels to be carved from the inside out and rid of everything that made you whole,
made you human.

But most importantly,
I wish I didn't wish this for you at all.

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Soft

Miranda Poteet — Fri, 19 Jun 2026 13:29:01 -0400

I wish to decorate myself in frills and lace,
polish my hair with pearls instead of the cold hard steel
of a well hidden dagger.

I wish to feel the warm hands of a downy coat
without the cold glint of silver that must be sheathed underneath.

I wish to welcome the hands of a lover
without it feeling like a snare around my neck,
without wanting to gnash my teeth and unfurl my claws,
like a rabbit caught in the jaws of a bear.

I wish to bare my soul,
my heart,
without the protection of barbed wire and salt.

I wish to be soft,

But sharpness is all I know.

Because some time ago I learned that I was too swallowable,
that I was too tolerable,
for those with greedy hands and even greedier mouths.
My skin was too easily plucked apart,
my soul too easily washed down along with my blood and tears--
purity like wine to predators,

Some time ago I learned that I was too vulnerable,
that the world was filled with monsters
hiding underneath supple skin and lazy smiles,
that the softness of their hands would always be betrayed
by the sharp bite of poison they kept within hidden fangs.

I learned I was too soft,
too puncturable.

So I replaced my bones with cold hard iron,
and I learned to conceal my fragility
underneath layers of spite and sneers and venom and ice.

I learned to keep my finger on the trigger
of a perpetually loaded gun.
And though I am safe,
I do not feel like I've won.

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Banshee

Miranda Poteet — Fri, 19 Jun 2026 13:22:47 -0400

I am more righteous than any god you may worship
and I am more frightening than any devil you may fear

I am the crimson water that splashes at your feet, never clearing.
I am the screams that echo in your ears at night, never ceasing.
I am the pain scorched across a land you left weeping.

I am all the souls you've forsaken,
the lives you have taken,
the secrets you don't wish others to know.

A banshee in the night,
I am all your sins come creeping,
ready to reward you with what you have sewn.

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Funerals

Miranda Poteet — Fri, 19 Jun 2026 13:20:53 -0400

How do you mourn someone who isn't dead?
Whose flesh is still supple,
whose blood is just as red,
but beats in a rhythm now unknown to you?

How do you mourn who you used to be,
when she is everything you hate?
A stranger whose smile carves so ignorantly across her face.
Her innocence.
Oh ow you wish you could breathe again.

How do you mourn someone you never got to be?
Someone murdered before she had a chance.
A sparrow's wings ripped apart within the very nest it called home,
not dead, but unable to fly.
(perhaps it is the same).

How do you mourn someone who's very much alive?
Someone who's had to dig herself out of the muck and scum.
Someone who didn't even know she was buried,
until she was ripped from the earth and into the scorching light of the sun.

How do you mourn someone that you see every day
when you stare in the mirror?

How do you mourn yourself?

How do your grieve?

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My Body is a Temple

Miranda Poteet — Fri, 19 Jun 2026 13:16:13 -0400

My body is a temple
made of blood and bones and guts and viscera
Its heart beats despite,
in spite.
An act of defiance.

My body is a temple.
It has been hallowed by the ghosts of all the women I was before.
A martyr.
A victim.
The Patron Saint of Survival carries not a cross or a shield,
but the hands of yet another little girl who had to learn how to fight too early.

My body is a temple.
Her walls are made of broken promises.
Her foundation is built upon the graves of her fallen sisters,
the gravel of bloodstained parking lots,
and the busted frames of locked doors.
Sanctified by the tears I cried every night,
wondering if I could ever be holy again.
Bearing holy water to quench those unable to fill their own cups,
and to poison those who emptied them in the first place.

My body is a temple.
A lighthouse for those braving rough seas.
An example for my enemies.
A shelter for those who have not yet learned how to build their own.

My body is a temple.
She sheds her skin every month,
rebuilding herself over and over,
until the armor of her flesh can withstand even the worst of your weapons.
The fangs you sharpened with the bones of my sisters, my mothers and grandmothers, cannot pierce its flesh.
Your laws will not govern its halls.

My body.
My choice.
My temple.

I will burn it to the ground before I allow you to desecrate it.

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Oceans

Miranda Poteet — Fri, 19 Jun 2026 13:10:12 -0400

They will try to drown you
unknowing that it was you who formed the very ocean
of which they pour over your screaming mouth.

They will try to silence you
stuff your mouth with salt
as if you hadn't long been immune to the taste of your own tears.

They will try to hide you away
but the darkness of great depths has always been your friend
has been your safe space.

A falling star, they say, surely doesn't know how to swim
unknowing that the sky was never your home in the first place.

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Signing at The Last Page

Miranda Poteet — Fri, 31 Jul 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Drop into The Last Page bookstore in Moore to say hi and grab a signed copy of The Dragon and the Nightingale!

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Signing at Amethyst and Ink

Miranda Poteet — Fri, 31 Jul 2026 00:00:00 +0000

I'll be down in Lawton signing books at Amethyst and Ink bookstore! Make sure to drop in and get a signed copy!

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Event Announcement: Books in Denver Author Signing Event

Miranda Poteet — Tue, 14 Oct 2025 00:00:00 +0000

I am uber excited to announce that I will be attending the Books in Denver Author Signing Event next July!

I am incredibly thankful for this opportunity to connect with more readers and meet some other amazing authors!

You can pre-order books now to be picked up at my table here: https://beventi.co/orderform/466vdbzpji

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Fundraiser for Palomar

Miranda Poteet — Wed, 1 Oct 2025 00:00:00 +0000

Hello friends!!

I am uber UBER excited to share that for the ENTIRE month of October I will be donating all of my personal profits from my books to Palomar, a family justice organization located in OKC that aims to help victims and survivors of domestic violence.

This includes e-book, paperback, and all other products published through all available retailers.

If you would like to consider making your own personal donation, you can donate through a link in their website at https://palomarokc.org/

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Hard Cover Edition Coming Soon!!!

Miranda Poteet — Sat, 13 Sep 2025 00:00:00 +0000

The Dragon and the Nightingale, Volume One is getting a Hard Cover Edition!

After contemplating for several months, I finally decided to publish a hardcover through Ingram Sparks. Copies will be made available to directly purchase through a link I will provide here on the website! Hopefully, Amazon and other vendors will stock up on her as well!

If you'd like to see a copy in your local bookstore, please reach out to them and request they order a few for their stock!

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Patreon!

Miranda Poteet — Mon, 25 Aug 2025 00:00:00 +0000

I've revamped my Patreon!

I will be posting short stories, excerpts, poems, and more - completely free!

Subscribe below!
https://patreon.com/MirandaPoteet?utm_medium=unknown&utm_source=join_link&utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator&utm_content=copyLink

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The Dragon and the Nightingale: Volume Two Available Now

Miranda Poteet — Tue, 5 Aug 2025 00:00:00 +0000

The sequel to The Dragon and the Nightingale is available now on Amazon and Barnes and Noble!

Follow Mara as she continues her journey, meeting new friends and foes along the way!

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The Dragon and the Nightingale : Volume Two Coming Soon!

Miranda Poteet — Sat, 26 Jul 2025 00:00:00 +0000

Mara is back, and dare I say, with a vengeance.

It's been eight months since that fated day in the Cursed Cathedral, eight months since Kai disappeared, and Mara was left alone to pick up the pieces of a reality shattered apart by Malachi's childhood vendetta.

The Siren's picked up the pieces alright, all but one, and she's getting tired of waiting for it to find its way back.

Follow Mara as she endeavors to take back what was stolen from her, even if it kills her.

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