New fiction by me
My short story The Dragon of Gettysburg appears in this month's dragon-themed issue of EMG-zine. (Due to violent/gory content, you'll need to register on the 'zine's website and then set "View Questionable Content" to "true" in order to read it.) "The Dragon of Gettysburg" is about 1000 words and, as well as being a stand-alone story, is also backstory for a character in the novel that I'm currently working on.
A teaser snippet, with a bit of the aforementioned gore:
Death stalks the fields of Gettysburg on wet red claws. Supple muscles, smooth as water, ripple beneath scales the color of polished gunmetal. In measured strides it walks the battlefield, a nightmare clothed in flesh.
The guns and the cannons have already done their work here, already gone silent. The living lie tangled with the dead, too exhausted to rise when the great clawed feet step delicately over them. They will name this a dream, a vision, brought on by dehydration and fear. To believe otherwise would open the door to a reality even more staggering than the one confronting them, more horrible and impossible than their friends' split bodies spilling viscera and brains into the cold earth.
I also have a story called "Those Who Favor Fire" in the erotic e-anthology Like a Mask Removed: Volume 2 (superhero/supervillain-themed adult fiction). There's a list of places to buy it in the link, including Amazon (Kindle) and Fictionwise (multiple e-formats). (Notice that there are two books and my story is in the second volume, the supervillain one, with the red-and-black cover. The blue cover is the first volume and not the one with my story in it. Not that I'm trying to discourage anyone from buying the other one, of course!)
"Those Who Favor Fire" is about 3000 words long and features original superhero/supervillain characters (i.e. not specific ones from the Marvel or DC universes). A teaser snippet:
At the top of the stairs I pause, and unroll the knitted black ski mask hat from my pocket. My working mask is a silver domino; this is hotter, heavier, unpleasantly scratchy on my sweat-damp skin. I touch my tongue to the whip-stitched edge of the mouth opening, feeling the stiffness of ice that melts almost as fast as it freezes.
The stairs reek of urine and the fetid breath of the city. At the bottom there is nothing but a heavy, unmarked iron door, defaced with graffiti. I tap lightly, and it draws back to admit me into a tiny room beyond, little more than an alcove with plywood walls. It's even hotter in here; my head pounds, and I squint in the glare of a single naked light bulb. The bouncer is a woman tonight, as tall as me and almost as heavily muscled. Through the holes in her black ski mask I can see her startling lavender eyes, the same color as her skin and a few shades lighter than the flippy violet ends of hair curling from under the edge of the mask. She takes the folded bills I hand her. The club isn't cheap, but it's worth it.
"Looking for anyone specific?" Her voice is unexpectedly light for her big frame. I wonder what her powers are.
"No," I lie, and push open the door into the club.
(This entry is also posted at http://layla.dreamwidth.org/174886.html.)
A teaser snippet, with a bit of the aforementioned gore:
Death stalks the fields of Gettysburg on wet red claws. Supple muscles, smooth as water, ripple beneath scales the color of polished gunmetal. In measured strides it walks the battlefield, a nightmare clothed in flesh.
The guns and the cannons have already done their work here, already gone silent. The living lie tangled with the dead, too exhausted to rise when the great clawed feet step delicately over them. They will name this a dream, a vision, brought on by dehydration and fear. To believe otherwise would open the door to a reality even more staggering than the one confronting them, more horrible and impossible than their friends' split bodies spilling viscera and brains into the cold earth.
I also have a story called "Those Who Favor Fire" in the erotic e-anthology Like a Mask Removed: Volume 2 (superhero/supervillain-themed adult fiction). There's a list of places to buy it in the link, including Amazon (Kindle) and Fictionwise (multiple e-formats). (Notice that there are two books and my story is in the second volume, the supervillain one, with the red-and-black cover. The blue cover is the first volume and not the one with my story in it. Not that I'm trying to discourage anyone from buying the other one, of course!)
"Those Who Favor Fire" is about 3000 words long and features original superhero/supervillain characters (i.e. not specific ones from the Marvel or DC universes). A teaser snippet:
At the top of the stairs I pause, and unroll the knitted black ski mask hat from my pocket. My working mask is a silver domino; this is hotter, heavier, unpleasantly scratchy on my sweat-damp skin. I touch my tongue to the whip-stitched edge of the mouth opening, feeling the stiffness of ice that melts almost as fast as it freezes.
The stairs reek of urine and the fetid breath of the city. At the bottom there is nothing but a heavy, unmarked iron door, defaced with graffiti. I tap lightly, and it draws back to admit me into a tiny room beyond, little more than an alcove with plywood walls. It's even hotter in here; my head pounds, and I squint in the glare of a single naked light bulb. The bouncer is a woman tonight, as tall as me and almost as heavily muscled. Through the holes in her black ski mask I can see her startling lavender eyes, the same color as her skin and a few shades lighter than the flippy violet ends of hair curling from under the edge of the mask. She takes the folded bills I hand her. The club isn't cheap, but it's worth it.
"Looking for anyone specific?" Her voice is unexpectedly light for her big frame. I wonder what her powers are.
"No," I lie, and push open the door into the club.
(This entry is also posted at http://layla.dreamwidth.org/174886.html.)