Hey, I’ve got some good news. Longshot Island has published my flash memoir “A Worm Tale” in their latest issue. Apparently, I need to write more of these things because they seem to do very well in terms of blog…
Hey, I’ve got some good news. Longshot Island has published my flash memoir “A Worm Tale” in their latest issue. Apparently, I need to write more of these things because they seem to do very well in terms of blog…
This is part three of a serial. Part one is Air Attack, and part two is Griffin Egg. *spoiler alert* In part one, a teen girl, Amy, and her brownie companion, Morin, help drive off a flock of harpies, saving…
This is part two of a four-part series. The first episode is available here. *Spoiler alert* In episode one, Gondar and his squad of fae soldiers are nearly wiped out by marauding harpies. They are saved by unlikely allies–a human…
The woman hovered near the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea. It had taken the selkie considerable work to get her there. “What do you see?” the selkie asked her softly, and her sea-green eyes met his. They were…
Diana rubbed her eyes and squinted at the monitor. Almost six million hits when she Googled grimoire! How would she ever find the right one? Still, she checked them every moment she didn’t have to wait tables or sleep. She’d…
“We’ve got to keep better track of our tools today,” Tom said as we pulled up to our jobsite. It was a beautiful brick addition to the community college in Santa Rosa, about an hour north of San Francisco, traffic…
Fear comes in many flavors. There’s the adrenaline rush, so addictive for some that they seek safe forms so they can experience it on demand. There’s the sick dread of seeing something coming and knowing there’s no way to stop…
London, 1985 It was lunchtime, and the line for the sandwich shop wound out the door. Terrence hated when it got busy like this. By the time customers made it to the counter, they were all holding onto their tempers…
It’s not easy being the lone woman on a construction site. I always enjoy seeing another gal working there. Secretaries don’t count—most of the time, I can’t even get a key to the ladies’ porta-potty out of them. But now…
Margaret stifled a scream and rammed her shovel into the soil. It was hard, hard as the reaper himself and unyielding as death. She jumped on the shovel and it sank a couple inches deeper. The shovelful joined the rest…