Lizz Chambers
Bio
Hunny is a storyteller, activist, and HR strategist whose writing explores ageism, legacy, resilience, and the truths hidden beneath everyday routines. Her work blends humor, vulnerability, and insight,
Achievements (1)
Stories (56)
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The Last Soldier Standing
The day I had my heart attack, the doctors told me I needed rest. Real rest. The kind where you let other people take care of you for once. I nodded, because that’s what polite patients do, but the truth was already forming in my mind like a command I couldn’t disobey.
By Lizz Chambers5 days ago in Families
Hunny
Chapter 9- The Child Between Them Hunny avoided Elizabeth’s house for weeks. She didn’t say it out loud—Hunny never admitted avoidance—but she found reasons to stay away. Laundry. Errands. Lisbeth’s nap schedule. The heat. The humidity. The alignment of the planets. Anything to keep her from stepping back into the house where her mother had blindsided her with a baby boy who looked like betrayal wrapped in a blanket.
By Lizz Chambers5 days ago in Chapters
Hunny
Chapter 8: A Spotlight Split in Two The first night in the house that reeked of charity to her was met with fitful sleep and a fussy Lisbeth. Hunny had accepted it with a smile that tasted more like vinegar than the sweetness the Preacher thought he had earned for brokering the deal. He’d stood there on the porch earlier that day, puffed up with righteousness, handing over the keys like he was placing a crown on her head.
By Lizz Chambers10 days ago in Chapters
The Thirteenth Bell
Valentine’s Day. Everywhere else I’ve lived, it’s been a flimsy holiday — flowers, chocolates, greeting cards, and a vague expectation that you should feel something sweet and sentimental. I’ve always thought it was one of the most worthless holidays on the calendar.
By Lizz Chambers12 days ago in Fiction
Hunny
Chapter 7: Three Days, No Air, and a Toddler Full of Screams Lisbeth was one and a half, and her lungs were as strong as her mother’s pride—capable of rattling windows, nerves, and the occasional stranger’s sympathy. The Navy had released E.C., honorable and quiet as ever, his duffel bag packed with folded memories and letters from home. He stepped off that bus from the base for the last time, with the same soft-eyed steadiness he’d had since boyhood, the kind that made people trust him without knowing why.
By Lizz Chambers13 days ago in Chapters
Hunny
Chapter 6: A House Full of Fire and Patience That night, after Lisbeth finally drifted off—cheek still faintly sticky from the peanut butter she refused to let anyone wipe—Hunny lingered in the doorway longer than usual. The lamp cast a soft gold over the room, catching the curve of her daughter’s lashes, the rise and fall of her tiny chest.
By Lizz Chambers14 days ago in Chapters
Hunny
Chapter 5: Becoming More Than a Force—Becoming Home San Francisco, 1951–1953 When E.C. was called back up for Korea, Hunny didn’t cry in front of him. She helped him pack, kissed him twice for good luck, then turned and walked back into their Navy apartment like she already had a plan. Because she did.
By Lizz Chambers17 days ago in Chapters
Hunny
Chapter 3: She Packed Her Pride and a Little Bit of Fire San Francisco, 1950 Joining the Naval Reserves had felt, to E.C., like stepping into a shelter—steady pay, a uniform that fit like purpose, a brotherhood that didn’t ask too many questions. But Truman’s orders shattered that illusion like glass under a boot heel. North Korea loomed like a dark cloud on the horizon, and suddenly duty called with salt on its breath and ocean in its veins. This time, it wasn’t the Army—it was the Navy. A whole different beast. A whole different war.
By Lizz Chambersabout a month ago in Chapters
Hunny
Chapter 2: Fire in Her Bones Arkansas, Late 1940s Hunny didn’t walk. She staked claim — dust rising in her wake like defiance made tangible. Every step she took was a declaration, a dare to any soul within earshot. Her hips swung more than necessary, reckless as Sunday church bells, while saddle shoes slapped the dusty road. Hunny always walked with a purpose, but what that purpose was, most folks missed, and she didn’t share.
By Lizz Chambersabout a month ago in Chapters
