Sneak Peek at Paul S. Kemp’s Shadowrealm
By Matt-M-McElroy | May 9, 2008
When I interviewed Forgotten Realms author Paul S. Kemp recently he gave us the slightest tease regarding the upcoming Shadowrealm novel.
Now, he has offered up a snippet from the book for us to enjoy. Shadowrealm is book three of the Twilight War and is available for pre-order at Amazon.com.
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Edge of Propinquity features “The Valley” by Alana Joli Abbott
By Matt-M-McElroy | March 11, 2008
The Edge of Propinquity is a series of short stories exploring the world around us that lurks just beneath the surface. It is the world of the unexplained, supernatural, magic, horror, duty, responsibility, black humor, conspiracy, unknown heritage and power.
Check out Volume 26 of The Edge of Propinquity for a tale by Alana Joli Abbott called The Valley.
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The Queen of Crows Short Story
By Monica Valentinelli | February 13, 2008
The short story that you are about to read happened completely by accident; I was catching up on my American history from the 1800s when I read about atrocities that were committed by a fort called “Bosque Redondo.” Inspired by the idea that desperate people do (and say) desperate things when they’re in trouble, I wrote “The Queen of Crows” as a horror story. This work of fiction does, in no way shape or form, resemble any persons, events or places involved, nor does it intentionally strive to make light of what happened in that dark moment of American history. I did, however, open this story with a diatribe by the goddess of this tale, an undead version of Queen Mab, in order to give this a fantastical feel. Some people liked it; others did not. As it was part of the original version, I decided to leave it in for your reading pleasure.
Topics: Fiction | 5 Comments »
Pseudopod: a Horror Podcast Site features “Prey”
By Flames | February 5, 2008
Do you enjoy listening to things that go bump in the night? Do you imagine what your favorite horror characters sound like in real life? Enter Psuedopod, a site devoted to bringing you original fiction read by passionate readers. The authors are paid for their efforts, yet the site is free to listeners and survives on the hearts…er…donations of others.
The site is a production of Escape Artists, Inc. and also features a separate podcast site devoted to the best of science fiction and fantasy called Escape Pod.
This particular podcast features the work of Monica Valentinelli entitled “Prey.” This piece of flash fiction is about a necromancer’s moonlit ritual, and was written from the point-of-view of a bird of prey.
Pseudopod was kind enough to allow us to share this fiction with you. We invite you to listen and show your appreciation by letting the author and Pseudopod know what you think!
Legal Stuff: Pseudopod is produced and distributed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
Topics: Fiction | 1 Comment »
Teamwork: a Blood Games II Story
By Flames | June 29, 2007
Lily rolled down the passenger side window, leaned out, and flailed blindly with her silver dagger, feeling it sink into whatever it was on top of the car. In the back seat, Leroy desperately fired his weapon into the roof of the car, temporarily deafening the occupants in the process. The wolf-man smashed his massive paw through the driver’s side of the windshield and slashed at Chloe, slicing into her scalp and sending blood flowing down into her eyes. Keeping her wits about her, she floored the accelerator and then braked sharply.
Written by El Zambo
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Torment: an Obsidian: the Age of Judgement Story
By Flames | November 30, 2006
Alright, let’s try this again. Much more slowly than the first time, I attempt to open my eyes. Everything is blurred for a moment, and my stomach heaves, but I swallow hard and blink a few times. The room obligingly comes into focus. First my gaze flickers down and to my left. All I can see is a delicate, bare shoulder under a fine curtain of hair, the strangest silvery-brown color. Squinting painfully against the dim lighting, I notice a small braid, tied with dark blue thread. I smile slightly, though I couldn’t say why. There is something sweet and innocent about that little braid.
An Obsidian: the Age of Judgement story written by Elizabeth Petersen
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Glint: a Story for Obsidian: the Age of Judgement
By Monica Valentinelli | April 11, 2006
Silas no longer cared if his carefully-sown client was going to do something stupid; his kits were far too valuable and far too difficult to come by to replace. He’d find somebody else, some other paying client to work on. Walking over to the wall, he ripped his sawed-off Nineteen from the wall, and flushed his Boosters. He swore under his breath that he didn’t put on any armor before this appointment. At least he put his shoulder strap on. That strap was like his credbase. He never left home without it.
Topics: Fiction | 1 Comment »
Annihilation | an Obsidian: the Age of Judgement Story Series
By Monica Valentinelli | January 13, 2006
Daniel spat carefully. Damn the Law. Sure, the crisp uniforms were a necessary evil—they needed him just as much as he needed them. The Law’d get into a nasty situation that involved daemons or some other supernatural creature (even though “officially” there’s no such thing as monsters), and then they’d hire him, Daniel Wayward, to clean it up. Sometimes things were good, real good. One time he managed to keep the acrid blood spatter to a minimum and kill the thing with no casualties. In his line of work, that was a miracle. Being a beastkeeper had its ups and downs. Most times he was lucky to have a day that was in between.
Today was not one of those days.
Third in a three-part series
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The Final Kill
By Flames | November 1, 2005
It was getting cold. He looked forward to starting a good fire to warm his aging bones. Almost the oldest of dragon hunters, he’d earned his experience the hard way, and his body bore the brunt of his hunts with the monsters he’d fought. Every ache, every scar, told a tale, and he had many of both.
Written by Rob Stratman
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Hal’s Story | Obsidian: the Age of Judgement Fiction
By Flames | October 31, 2005
“Are you still insisting on hunting him down? This isn’t what your father would have wanted. He would have wanted you to continue helping humanity defend itself against hell.” Hal knew Ayden wanted her fighting with them. After all, they grew up together, even was in schooling together. When Ayden went off with the Spiritual Essence trainers, she was scared, and sad. That’s when Hal’s father started training her as a Mystic. He was very talented, and she was to carry on his knowledge.
Written by Crystal Mazur
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Danels Blood | Conspiracy of Shadows Fiction
By Flames | October 25, 2005
Danel’s blood spilled out of the ragged gash in his arm in great gouts across the floor of the main hall of the Bascillica de San Zago. Rounding a brazier, trying to concentrate on holding the wound tight, he almost plunged headlong into Brother Artemus.
Written by Mike Holmes
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Seed of Chaos
By Flames | October 17, 2005
When I was a kid I wanted to play pro tennis.
I had it all mapped out. I’d train hard at school, get noticed, get a coach, start playing nationally. By the time I was eighteen I’d already be world seeded; I’d win my first Grand Slam when I was twenty, nail the US Open a year later. I’d even got an investment plan worked out.
Then Stan came along.
Written by 2005 Fiction Contest Winner, Matt Harvey
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Will of the Hunter | Blood Games Fiction
By Flames | October 11, 2005
It was too late for tracking. This close to nightfall it would be tired of running. If he gave it an opening it would charge into the open. Abram made himself sound as panicked as possible, he broke branches, stumbled over roots and force himself to pant. It went against every instinct he had developed over the years of the hunt. Pam was right behind him, mimicking his actions but she wasn’t pretending. Whatever façade of strength she had summoned up to come with him tonight was gone now. There wasn’t time for a pep talk. “In a few minutes it won’t matter anyway,” thought a particularly bitter piece of Abram.
Written for the Blood Games setting by Daniel Potter
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The Settlement | Cursed Empire Fiction
By Monica Valentinelli | August 3, 2005
The families lived in exile, far removed from Condar, Rodak or Derve. They did not choose to live there, the mountain hand-picked them. They were merchants, traffickers, and traders in luxury goods, foodstuffs and information. All had a story to tell, some worse than others. A rockslide claimed one party, bandits tore apart another. Long have they been grieved for, even longer have they been forgotten. Until the miners came, dwarves with their pickaxes and knowledge of things buried deep within the earth. Tough yet resilient, Ilieva grew into the mountain ever since her husband died last Lokt. So, when the dwarves came offering a mutually-beneficial treaty, how could she refuse?
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Sacrifice: Part V | Conspiracy of Shadows Fiction Series
By Monica Valentinelli | July 12, 2005
Tall, yellow grasses rustled in front of a modest Sarlacchi village, mimicking the movements of a small boy. The child pitched forward, and then rocked backward. He stopped to brace himself against an unseen foe. Something punched him hard in the stomach. Flinging his arms to the sky, the boy grasped his totem necklace and cried out before collapsing to the ground. His mother rushed to the fallen child, clutching him tightly to her breast.
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Triad Part II: Absence | Obsidian: the Age of Judgement Fiction Series
By Monica Valentinelli | June 30, 2005
Tara sat at the edge of the abyss. She glanced briefly around her, wondering if something more menacing than the Law guards were lurking in the earthy shadows. Hours earlier, her team breathed a sigh of relief when the Law’s automated attack vehicles returned from the depths of Zone subsector three without a scratch. The Law then pushed her team forward, forcing them to tread where only machines should have gone.
Third in a three-part series
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Sacrifice: Part IV | Conspiracy of Shadows Fiction
By Flames | April 29, 2005
Risla twisted and turned as she slept on the hard ground, her thoughts hunting for answers to Malik’s words. How could she convince anyone that she was the one that would fulfill prophecies? And even if she had the second sight, she wasn’t sure she could speak false about foreseeing the future. Truly, she was anything but blessed. When she told Malik this, he not only reminded her how many people were relying on this belief, but that some people would lay their lives down for such a person.
Part of an ongoing tale in the world of Conspiracy of Shadows.
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Sacrifice: Part III | Conspiracy of Shadows Fiction Series
By Monica Valentinelli | March 25, 2005
The darkness crept behind Malik and Risla, embracing them in its strong arms. Albin guided them to an abandoned camp where they could rest for the night. Tomorrow would be a slow day for the both of them, for Challenger needed to be reshoed. They both hoped, for different reasons, a village was nearby. Only the light would tell them that. Malik was fortunate he had excellent night vision. He thanked his father for grooming him well.
“I’m going to look around,” Malik told her. “Stay close.”
Risla could barely make out his arrogant outline. She wondered if “looking around” meant leaving her there. He cared more for his horse than he did for her.
“What should I do?”
Part of an ongoing tale set in the world of Conspiracy of Shadows.
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Sacrifice: Part II | Conspiracy of Shadows Fiction Series
By Monica Valentinelli | March 4, 2005
“What does it say, Father Clemens?” asked a young acolyte to the wizened priest.
The middle-aged priest looked carefully around the room, for explaining prophecy to youth was like expressing nature into words to young children. At least his following was here, just outside Alcona at the foot of the Boreni Mountains. It was fortunate they were not wandering off, trying to profess their faith to those who would not listen. Instead they were here, under his gaze, believing Albin granted him the tools to enable them to know things men shouldn’t.
Continuing the tale set in the world of Conspiracy of Shadows
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Hunt | a|state Fiction
By Flames | February 28, 2005
Aiken watched the gun. The muzzle was drifting to and fro, but always covering him, cutting down his options. He was trying hard to sober up. The little man was talking away in his fast, clipped voice, but Aiken was having difficulty concentrating on the words. Before the pair had arrived he had been busy drinking himself unconscious, but now that was a distant memory. The big one had come in first, the muscle, waving his vicious-looking sparklock languidly about, indicating to the clientele of this particular dive that they would be better off not getting involved.
A tale for the a/state setting from Contested Ground Studios, written by Greg Saunders.
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