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Short Fiction: Geruth the Debt Collector
“Come downstairs, Marie.” “I’m not coming down, Geruth. Go away.” “You can’t stay up there forever. I, on the other hand, can stay down here indefinitely.” “You’ll get bored and go away.” “Perhaps. Or maybe I’ll pretend to go away. Maybe I’ll just go a little way down the street and hide. You’ll come down…
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Goyle Country Update: In which secret chambers!
Hey. So. In (apparently) keeping with my putting things up late, here’s a Goyle Country update from last week. Well, and a little bit from tonight, because I could. It’s about 2k words, and weird things are happening because apparently the story has a mind of its own now. I’m… not really sure where this…
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Short Fiction: Ironclads
In the good old days war tended to stop in the winter. Nobody liked dying in the cold and snow, especially when it was the elements that were killing you and instead of the enemy. These days, when trains could carry troops and supplies alike, it was a year round proposition. It was a much slower,…
“A quote is coming soon, promise.”
Mark A. Sargent, Clockwork & Old Gods