NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
He got away with it all. In the end, it was the damned cows that caught him.
I can see the life leave you.
You died for nothing.
He was the assassin, the executioner, the bringer of death for the Blood King. After all, Terrance understood death better than most.
DR. RANIER BLOOD’S ARC
Court-appointed therapy doesn’t go quite the way Rapunzel thought it would.
Rumors of her appear in the news, but who can credit tales of a pale little girl freezing things with a single, bloodied touch?
“This is your test,” she says, and to my dismay, her voice carries the tinny echo of magic, a compelling power. Not the usual conversation one has upon entering a magical psychologist’s office.
STORIES ABOUT NOTTE AND THE NIGHT CHILDREN
A mad Roman emperor. An ancient depressed vampire. A bizarre evening to remind the Blood King why life is worth living.
Just the aftermath of a strange day, a strange letter, and some under-the-table un-wisdom. A continuation of HALF-SHELL PROPHECIES.
Ravena has her reasons for refusing Notte – and none of them involve survival.
Terrance, meanwhile, has no reason to doubt Notte… except for the new fear Notte might leave him. A continuation of HALF-SHELL PROPHECIES.
Ancient vampire Notte has tea with a friend right in the middle of some… family business. Awkward!
I do not blame you for your fear. Humans are my prey – but my friend, I do not hunt small children.
A deliciously creepy side story with vampires, a dying Earth, and a secret organization. Dark, mildly disturbing, and – if you’ve read THE SUNDERED – you might recognize a name.
Flappers. Vampires. A thug who stole a necklace and a speak-easy with Jazz to die for. A short, cute story set in New York City in the 1920s.
Someday, he’d just leave. Nobody would call him prince, or Highness, or expect him to do anything miraculous.
“Do you think your choices please me?” The king slows and weaves an accusing look into his walk, a tide that pauses on shore for dramatic effect. “Did you think we would not know?”
The damned Throne takes my magic, stealing every last drop from birth to death. Rebellion is not rewarded, not even when you’re the heir.
Before me stands the bedraggled crown prince of the Unseelie Fey. I pretend I do not see how desperately he hoped I’d invite him, and he pretends that he does not have bits of twig sticking out of his hair.
Stories All Around the Mythos
Just a story about magic, cereal boxes, long-lost Mesoamerica gods, and a convenience store manager with a taser.
A very confused hedgehog discovers found family. Written for “National Tella Fairy-tale Day.”
A frog discovers the power of a lady’s kiss and the problems of small windows.
Just the ruminations of a certain Prince of the People of Darkness as he finishes up one liaison and seriously considers another. A continuation of HALF-SHELL PROPHECIES.
If asked, he’d say he was no one. A shadow cast without light, the invisible fist that clenches empty bellies. But if you asked again, he’d tell you the truth: he is the monster, and your flesh belongs to him.
I thought we’d have longer. I thought I’d grow up. They only come when the oldest natural dies. Then they come, and they take our hearts. I don’t want to die.
A sad little tale following a type of creature even the ancient vampire Notte knows nothing about: a creature of The Dream. Explanation is given at the end. Enjoy.
A single day. A single chance to make up for a lifetime of poor choices. A single member of the People of the Sun leaps in with both feet.
A pretty lady always knows how to smile. (Flash fiction.)
Punish me, will you? Two can play this game. (Flash fiction.)
The moths came when you left. (Flash fiction.)
Ghosts don’t mean to scare you. (Free-form poetry.)
Stories of the Fey
A thief. A debt. A sentient throne with a message to send.
Aiden was precocious, said his teachers. He even had a quest: to make his uncle Jaden laugh.
Stories From Death
She’d won. She’d won! He had got it wrong, but she’d won. No way was Dis going to pass up collecting. A continuation of HALF-SHELL PROPHECIES.
The soul had been flayed, shredded into suffering ribbons, and Death had to think carefully about how to handle it right.
Now, he knew what this place held. Monsters, magic leaves, things all meant to stop him and eat him and stop him and hurt him, and he wouldn’t be fooled again.
Death stared at the bee for a long time, his mismatched purple gaze fixated on the gold and black stripes, on the dot-and-line combo that gave the bee an incongruously human expression of contentment.
STORIES FROM THE SUNDERED
SPOILERS AHEAD! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
A series of short stories from a weird perspective: that of the Sundered Ones.
There was never just one ship, even if Jason’s arrogance made it sound that way.
Is life worth living without freedom? Some people certainly don’t think so.
“Go calm down the idiots, would you?” said Iskinder, gaze locked on the screen. “It is time for you to use your particular talent for crowd control.”
We were tasked with stopping the end of the world, but it’s too late for that. So, failing that, we are tasked with preserving what remains.
Easier said than done.
Soon, I’ll have enough, and I can step out of this idiot game and I swear, I swear, no one is ever going to touch me again.