Tag Archives: Short Fiction

Yesterday’s Nightmares

29 Sunday Nov 2015

Posted by in Teaser

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , ,

Here’s a teaser that actually has nothing to do with houndmasters or wilds at all. Imagine that; there is another main character in the duology :)

These are a couple of journal entries from when Caliebb is in his low teens, shortly after he befriends Epsie.

YESTERDAY’S NIGHTMARES

Day One

Epsie says her therapist asked her to keep a journal after she was first rescued and was still recovering in medical. She claims that it helped her from going insane from boredom. That’s what she says, but I suspect she did it more because she couldn’t stand being by herself, too scared she’d close her eyes and wake up back where she started. That’s just an assumption on my part though. Who knows?

That’s really just a long-winded way of saying that she convinced me to give this thing a try. I told her I don’t really remember what I dream about, but I don’t think she believed me given she rolled her eyes and promised not to read it.

But I wasn’t lying. I have a lot of trouble remembering specifics. They’re dreams. They feel real when I’m there, but by the time I’m awake, they’ve become these indistinct muddled flashes with accompanying emotions that make little sense.

They are getting worse though. That’s something I’ve noticed.

Day Two

Woke twice last night.

The first time I only remember feeling as I were drowning. Woke up coughing.

This time I had been walking along the wharf, but the water looked strange. Calmer than the ocean. And bluer. But then the wood gave out under my feet, the planks splitting and sending me into the water. It only seemed to come up to my ankles, but something in the sand gripped me and wouldn’t let me move. The next thing I remember I was running underneath the wharf, with something chasing me. I kept looking back, but never saw anything, though I could hear whatever it was shrieking at me.

That’s it. Not sure writing this down is going to help. Continue reading →

Urban Hunt

26 Thursday Nov 2015

Posted by in Fantasy, M/M, Short Story, Teaser

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

Haunt of The Wilds eBook CoverSo I switched W in for U on Tuesday, so here’s U, as promised. Seems silly that now the alphabet isn’t in order for this challenge. Only three more to go though. Getting close!

Urban Hunt is a short story about the first day De’vii goes to the city of Crafton. The day he meets Mi’saa. They are both probably around twenty years old in this story. Give or take a year or two for each of them.

URBAN HUNT

Stone architecture, most of it blackened with age and mildew, replaced the trees and grasses over time. The hills remained, with buildings squished into place on the sloping angles, closer and closer together the farther De’vii strode into the city. The sky above them never truly changed, sitting heavy with stars and the moon a crescent to the east, but as the lights of the city claimed the darkness as their own, the stars seemed to fade.

Crafton, they said, was the best place to get a job. Crafton, they said, was a hub of houndmaster activity. Crafton…a place devoid of everything De’vii considered familiar.

De’vii stopped in the middle of the active street, feeling jostled despite no one daring to touch him or his pack. Beside him, Sou growled in the back of his throat, feeling threatened and overwhelmed, his gaze drifting upward where the windows and rooftops seemed to stare down at them like watchful hunters waiting to strike.

Fel didn’t like the place either. None of the pack did. They all told De’vii so. Loudly and vividly, sending flashes of the vines of Ay’ril Woods and the lush forests of the wilds.

“Yeah, I know,” he said with a hint of exasperation. But he sure as hell planes wasn’t planning on turning tail and running home. And when he put it that way, neither were any of his pack. Continue reading →

Widow’s Prey

24 Tuesday Nov 2015

Posted by in Teaser

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , ,

Having difficulties with U, so I’m giving you W instead. They sound close enough I figured I could swap them.

I have a humanoid race in Haunt of the Wilds called black widows. They’re not actually spiders…that’d be a little too weird for me to want to write about. But they are people who essentially feed off their sexual partners, simply in a magical way rather than a gory, disgusting way.

This little vignette was supposed to talk about how black widows do their thing, but it never ended up getting too detailed, which is probably a good thing. So it’s mostly an introduction of what they are and how they’re received by most other people.

WIDOW’S PREY

“They’re everywhere, you know? A lot of folks are getting wise to their ways, but even those who know to be careful could fall into a trap. ’Cause them black widows, they’ll do everything in their power to pretend to be something they ain’t.

“My daughter—”

The man choked on his own words, looking for just a moment as if he would start sobbing. Then he swallowed the emotion with a grunt and sudden fury sparked to life in his eyes, echoing next within his voice.

“Those widows, they pretend they’re human, pretend they’re anything. All smooth talking and smiles as if they weren’t the despicable people they are. How do they live with what they do? Huh. There I go assuming they care about something other than themselves.”

“Your daughter,” I prompted tentatively. Continue reading →

Treaty between Houndmasters

23 Monday Nov 2015

Posted by in Teaser

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Following the aftermath of the destruction at the Games, leading members of Families and Packs from both the wild and civilized sides met at a hostel along the original treaty boundary. There, they grudgingly set down new territory lines.

Because of the altered terrain that extended slightly both north and south, the strip of land separating wilds and civilized—the Braken—was spread. Houndmaster ancients had already made the neutral territory large, not only so the space would serve to dissuade accidental trespassing, but also so it could be used as a site for annual games, yet now the Braken extended even wider out of necessity.

No houndmaster or dog could possibly cross without full knowledge of what they were doing. Not only that, but because of the dangers now existing upon the Braken, no houndmaster or dog would want to. Both sides were at least in agreement on one thing—the farther away the territory lines and the less likely sides were to encounter one another, the better. The assumption being that any encounter would result in unfettered bloodshed. Continue reading →

Run the Muddy Trails of My Childhood

20 Friday Nov 2015

Posted by in Teaser

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

Beyond the sloping wooded hills, faster than the rain we were,
warriors raging below glowing skies,
that slippery ascent our fight. Return now to that combat,
run the muddy trails of my childhood
with me at your side.

Tracks of rainwater dodge the rocks, create the flowing rivers
of tan and black, that leaf-speckled surface
pours into least-resistant paths. Jump those streams and wade those pools,
collect the mud upon your shins and brow,
start that upward sprint.

As claw marks groove the sap-drenched trunks, with spirits thick with zeal,
battle the downward pouring hilltops and
lose yourself in that breathless climb. Water dripping in your mouth,
tasting of fresh earth and smelling of hound,
challenging your strength.

Forward, keep your knees from sinking, disappearing in the flood.
Ignore the growth of weight as clinging mud
strives to drag you to the bottom, where we’d once begun our race.
Far away, the calls distant to our ears,
but oh so tempting.

Relax and you’ll descend to them, all that distance eaten up
by a single thought of careless disregard.
You’d let it guide your hopes and dreams, that powerful emotion,
that fear, stronger than your resolution,
leading to your fall.

We’re there though, pack and litter mate, to bolster one another,
dragging your mind from that seductive edge,
though for reprieve you muscles beg. This track, never twice the same,
remembers not that loss of faith you held,
smoothing in your wake.

Our packs leap ever-shifting mud, their playful barks spur us on,
faster, fiercer, through the sliding mire.
That mountain in my memory, that beast of earth’s creation
is swallowed by our sinking footsteps while
my hound hits that crest.

Water sprays as he shakes and twists, thrown sideways through the rain.
Mix of sweat, sweet rain and loamy soil,
it splatters wide and hits the pack, sharpened pup teeth piercing deep,
bites of pain that streak the swirling mud like
storms against my skin.

And then, those last few lengths we take, past that highest lofty bend,
we see no footprints mark that untouched peak.
As always when your knees hit ground, your side burns, but does not die.
The wind tugs your dirt-drenched hair while we share
exhilarated grins.

Up there above that last steep leg, howls erupting from our throats,
rain coursing down our clay-marred arms, thrown wide,
we see our world transformed, rebirthed, a needed muddy cleansing,
reminding us the earth ceases never,
not for any dog.

This poem is a teaser for The Wilds Duology,
on pre-order now for only .99

How to Offend a Houndmaster

17 Tuesday Nov 2015

Posted by in Teaser

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , ,

Originally I was going to title this as Offensive Checklist, however that title truly stinks even though it actually begins with O. But this is O. I promise. It just sort of starts with H… This is a page out of a fictional ambassadorial reference notebook.

HOW TO OFFEND A HOUNDMASTER

Important Notes Concerning Houndmaster Interaction

*Never touch a houndmaster’s dogs!*

This can’t be stressed enough. If there is even a shadow of a doubt as to whether the dog belongs to a houndmaster’s pack, don’t touch. Generally the dog will react unfavorably to you, making it possible for you to lose a hand. Even if that does not happen, the houndmaster will take the act as a challenge. Be prepared for a fight if you make this mistake.

*Do not threaten/joke or otherwise mention the
possibility of taking a houndmaster’s dogs!*

While the occasional houndmaster might ignore you, most will react unfavorably to even the slightest comment about someone else taking over their pack or stealing their dogs. Again, the houndmaster in question will likely take this as a challenge and instigate a fight. Continue reading →

Lone Hound

13 Friday Nov 2015

Posted by in Fantasy, Short Story, Teaser

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , ,

By the start of Haunt of the Wilds, De’vii has eleven dogs, but he didn’t always have them all. This is a tiny story about how one of his dogs, Ast, joins his pack. She’s the gray crazy one. Three of the dogs in the novel do not make an appearance in this small story, two because they aren’t born yet and one because she’s not with them.

LONE HOUND

Long before the dog attacked, De’vii sensed something trailing them. She kept downwind, hidden within the foliage, never pushing too close, even when Fel looped back searching for what hunted them.

They all felt a presence though. Even Sif, and she was still tiny enough Rid and Wress flanked her, unwilling to allow whatever might attack them to go for the smallest of the pack. De’vii hesitated for all of a moment, then allowed the confidence within their collective consciousness lull him into complacency, sure in the knowledge that were the dog to attack, they could handle it.

So half the day was spent hunting, Sif getting her first chance at a solo kill while the rest of the pack guarded her back. She ended up needing help—the spindleleg too fast for her still-growing legs—but with a well-placed bite from Fel to the creature’s foreleg, it slowed enough she managed to take it down.

Her rush of satisfied achievement enveloped them all. De’vii laughed out loud and sent back his own pride within the pulse of glowing praise from the rest of the dogs.

And right then, right when Sif stood over her first solo kill, her little teeth blackened with blood and her splotchy coat speckled with debris, was when that lingering damn wild dog decided to attack. Continue reading →

King Leamain

12 Thursday Nov 2015

Posted by in Teaser

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , ,

K is for King Leamain, the man given responsibility for first treating with houndmasters and bringing a portion of them north out of the wilds. This bit of history marks why there is a disconnect between the wild and civilized sides of houndmasters–those who refuse to work with other races and those who have come to live among them (mostly) peacefully.

This bit of history is important for a second reason as well, because two of De’vii’s dogs are named after Leamain and his sister Katarita.

KING LEAMAIN

During the Maddened Age, when the giant wurms still claimed a wide swath of territory across the continent of Nithe in Nebrae, natural selection had created races adept at surviving.

Some fought. Others hid.

There were the animas, who could, and would, call upon the drakes to protect them from the wurms. The crakfins, those luminescent people who made their homes in the craggiest of the cliffs and took to the water when the wurms lumbered past. The renpters, who could rip their own skin off and feed the cursed flesh to the wurms and use the wurms’ bodies to build walls of rippling flesh. The batarai, with their long, thin bodies and frail wings that took them to heights the wurms couldn’t reach. Then there were the black widows, eager to steal every talent and ability they stumbled across, giving them a range of advantages.

And, of course, the houndmasters who reigned in the deepest, darkest of the forests and who took great enjoyment out of bringing down the wurms who dared cross into their territory.

The humans who were first thrown into Nebrae through an astral portal did not have thousands of years of genetic disposition to fight the wurms. They brought skills that were different and useful, yes, but without the specific focus that would give them immediate advantage when the wurms attacked. This meant many of the first humans, criminals tossed into Nebrae from their own plane, became wurm fodder. Continue reading →

Job Board at a Doghouse

11 Wednesday Nov 2015

Posted by in Teaser

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , ,

AS SEEN ON A JOB BOARD IN A DOGHOUSE IN CRAFTON

PEST CONTROL

“Hoppers are overwhelming the farms in the foothills again. Will pay per set of ears. You keep the skins. Multiple farms in need, see back for addresses.”

“A feline has taken up residence outside my fences and is consistantly eating from my herd. Houndmaster and pack can keep skin and will be invited to stay within our house. Dogs welcome.”

PEOPLE
Written underneath are the words:
who can’t help themselves

“Tracker: Looking for a pack to help find a runaway. He is thirteen, human, has been taught fundamentals of masking trails and is potentially suicidal. Full offer on back is for his safe return. Will pay half of offer if you can retrieve his body if he has done the unthinkable. Please hurry.”

“Messenger: Need a runner for between the mines. Younger houndmasters preferred.”

“Tracker: Need help finding a thief. Room has been locked off and untouched so scents are preserved.”

DANGEROUS

“Hunt: A large hellion drake has come south out of Feloc’s Canvas. We are looking for multiple houndmasters to help take it down, preferably those who have worked together before. Amount on back is first offer. Pay can be negotiated.”

“Hunt: Murderer. Skilled swordsman. Has fought houndmasters before. Double pay if he is brought back alive to be executed. Dead works too.”

“Escort: I need to safely get to the Ruins of Matoxi for research. Will be staying approximately twelve days, then needing help returning safely to Crafton. Will pay all travel expenses plus hazard pay. I have a mage on retainer who can help mask us from drakes if activity is spotted. Experienced houndmasters only.”

PHP
(Pack Helping Pack)

“Three houndmaster pups needing a good home. Their dam and sire were killed on a job up near Feloc’s Canvas. Oldest is nine—she has three dogs and is capable of hunting common game. The two younger are six and five. Neither has started on their packs yet, but both are in shape and obviously were well-cared for by their parents.”

“Sick dog needing specialized medical care. Have to go south and need a second houndmaster to help support my pack on the trip. Can pay.”

“Lost pup. Last seen playing near the downtown emporium outside the mage arena. Too many scents made it impossible to track her down. Sketch included. If you have any info on her, please give it to the doghouse owners. She is lost and scared and isn’t communicating effectively within our consciousness. Please do not contact me solely to mock me—I already know I messed up.”

Scrawled across the bottom of the board, some of the words partially hidden by overlapping jobs, was: Contact doghouse owners for more information on any job. Sample contracts available for select jobs.

And hanging below that, written by a left-hander if the slant was any indication, was: We reserve the right to not post requests by those who have abused houndmaster or dog in the past.

This was for J in my A-Z Wilds Duology Challenge. Just a few sample job board offers as an idea of what might be found on one. They are usually posted in doghouses within the cities so they are only part of civilized houndmasters’ lives. This is a teaser for my upcoming novel, Haunt of the Wilds, now on pre-order for .99c.

Inflorescence Within the Wilds

10 Tuesday Nov 2015

Posted by in Teaser

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

One of my favorite things about writing fantasy, and probably the biggest reason why Song For The Wilds eBook CoverI love it so much, is world building. I’m a huuuge fan of stories that don’t simply rely on reader expectation and instead go beyond the norm to create a world with its own rules. I’m especially happy when the stories set within the world actually follow the rules the author sets down.

I don’t feel as if it’s too hard either. A detail here. An original animal/race there. Historical tidbits. Hints of conflict in places outside of immediate setting can open the reader to the world on a macro level. Tiny details within the setting would help build up the world at a micro level.

World-building is just straight-up fun.

Of course, it’s best to temper it so words you’ve been using for months or years don’t completely confuse readers, but that’s one of the reasons I like to mix made-up names/words with everyday words since that seriously helps to ground me when I’m reading fantasy.

One of the things I did in Song for the Wilds was to create a couple of new plants. They don’t exactly have huge parts in the novel, but it was fun to do to give those tiny extra details to help create the houndmasters’ home. I didn’t do animals so much except for during my extra teaser stories, but that was because the duology was already damn long and I’d already introduced so many places and people and I didn’t want it to get too confusing. Plus, they would have just been throwaway mentions and that just wouldn’t do. Also, dogs kind of have the spotlight, what with the houndmasters, and I didn’t want to take away from that either.

So for I in my A-Z Challenge, I’m doing a weird take on a botanical listing where I wrote tiny snippets (with random houndmasters as POV) in order to give an idea of each plant.

Blackflower Vines

When I was young, I used to run through the vinery, letting the blackflower vines snake across my shoulders, leaving them oscillating in my wake. As I grew older, I learned how to soften my passage, my dogs keeping their barking to themselves as they growled and snarled within my mind, raging for the kill, their bellies seemingly in a constant state of need. Continue reading →