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Farther Reefs Anthology

Cover designed by Moor Books

Pirates and kraken, boats and submarines, deadly sirens, mermaids, and the women who face them all. These are our heroes.

High seas adventure, fantasy, and magic weave together in this sapphic anthology focusing on the joy of the unbounded oceans.

If you like diverse stories with lesbian and sapphic heroines exploring oceans, battling sea monsters, and seducing pirates, buy Farther Reefs today!

Pre-order a copy today! Release date is October 18th, 2022.

Multiverse Con 2022 Schedule

Hi, all! I will be attending Multiverse Con again this year. I’ve got a table, so please drop by if you live in the Atlanta/Sandy Springs area!

Here’s my schedule:

ConTinual Panel: Mythological Tropes in Fantasy and Sci-Fi

We’re heading into October, the spooky scary monster month, so why not sit down with me and a panel of awesome authors to discuss Mythological Tropes in Fantasy and Sci-Fi?

Excerpt from “Hunted” in the Terminus II Anthology

Cover Art by James Mason and Uraeus

Ready for a brand new preview from the sequel to Terminus? Get ready to catch up with Cassandra the werewolf and Vladmir Tepes, the Father of All Vampires in “Hunted”: an excerpt from Terminus II.

Someone was stalking me.

And anyone stalking a werewolf was either batshit crazy or had balls of titanium.

Don’t get me wrong–I’ve been stalked before, for serious and for playtime. The latter I honestly found a bit of a turn on if done properly by a fellow wolf of the opposite sex. Still, the few times it had happened had been playful, flirtatious, and reciprocated. A game of wits.

This was an entirely different game.

To his credit, the stalker was quite good. He stayed downwind of me so I couldn’t smell him. He kept out of my peripherals. He moved slowly, gradually, his paws light on the grass and the leaves of the forest. It was late, past any good girl’s bedtime, but I hadn’t been a good girl since I was probably about fourteen years old. Bad girls stayed out late and played in the moonlight. I’d been a bit restless lately, so I’d gone out for a midnight run through Fernbank Forest to clear my head. Sometimes I’d play tag with any local wildlife I could find. Deer were excellent sport, but rabbits were even better–they were faster and harder to catch. Still, in the city of Atlanta, deer weren’t exactly in massive supply, especially the closer you got to downtown. You had to go to the peripheral suburbs for proper fauna.

“Well,” you ask. “If you didn’t see him and didn’t smell him, Cassandra, how did you know he was there in the first place?”

Instinct.

Werewolves are sort of odd. A lot of folks think we’re wolves in human form or humans in wolf form, but it’s honestly both. When I changed into my wolf form, part of my human brain rested and the wolf stepped into the control room. All animals had a sense of when they were being watched. It was a survival tactic. Humans have it too, but it’s just not as acutely as animals, and especially apex predators. Wolves were at the top of their food chains wherever they were that didn’t have men with guns. Wolves knew their surroundings as if it was a part of them, and in some ways, it was. Nature breathed life into us, supernatural as it was, and so we always knew on a subconscious level what was around us, in the wind, in the trees, in the sky.

So what did my stalker want?

I had a few theories as I merrily strolled through the woods, pretending like I didn’t know better. I was trotting down a hill with a sharp decline, and I’d done it on purpose. He couldn’t stay low if he had to cross the hill at some point to keep tailing me.

Theories formed in my head. I was third in line for pack leadership here in the southeast. My father was the original Wolfman. My mother was the lupa, his mate. We had a pack of seventy or so raggedy miscreants who took care of each other and made nice with other packs who came through town for a good time. Every so often, I’d get some admirer trying to suck up to me with the scheme to be next in line for the throne. If he married me, he’d become royalty, effectively. Not that my family flaunted anything. We were well off, not rich, and most of what we made went back into the pack anyhow. Foolish men had tried and failed one by one over the last decade. If they stepped up, I swatted them down. However, none of them ever stalked me beforehand. Typically, they’d show up to pack meetings and introduce themselves, flirt with me, butter up my folks, only to be told a very firm no. So theory one was out the window.

I reached about ten yards from the top of the hill and then dug myself a nice shallow ditch before flumping down into it. My fur was a rich medium brown with black streaks over my spine and at the tuft of my tail, which effectively made me invisible in the dark of the forest. I shut my eyes and considered Theory Two: a rogue werewolf. They were rare, but they happened sometimes. Every so often, someone who had never had a pack, usually the survivor of an attack, traveled around making trouble for others to prove themselves. That wouldn’t go well for him. I’d killed before in self-defense, and as much as I didn’t like it, I could do it again.

I concentrated. A few minutes into my wait, I felt him. I waited until clouds slid over the full moon and took a peek.

He was all black. Rare. He kept as low to the ground as possible, but I could see him from here since I’d forced him over the hill. The forest cast shadows over him. He was a big fella, bigger than me, probably a good bit stronger too. He sniffed the air, hoping to catch my scent, but I was downwind this time. The clouds shifted again and just before I shut my eyes, I saw the color of his: bright, arctic blue, like a sparkling iceberg floating through the ocean at night. Interesting. Where had I seen eyes like that before?

The stalker determined that I was nowhere in the vicinity and eased his way down the hill, still soundless as a shadow. He was an impressive predator. He’d done this before. Maybe he was just curious. Theory Number Three was simple enough: some wolves were simply lonely and looking for connection, even if they knew they could have that if they joined the pack. I could sympathize. I was basically an introvert who could fake being an extrovert when needed. I valued my time alone. But even I got lonely.

The black wolf still hadn’t spotted me. By the time he did, it was too late.

I pounced up from my hidden spot and slammed all four of my paws into his side. Not hard enough to crack any ribs, but he’d damn well know he was in a fight. He yelped and hit the bottom of a thick oak tree beside us, landing in a heap at the roots. I planted my paws as I landed neatly in front of him and bared my fangs in my meanest, scariest growl.

“Why are you following me?”

The wolf shook his mane and then glanced up at me in surprise. He didn’t snap at me. He didn’t try to fight me.

Then I heard a familiar deep, baritone voice with just a hint of a Transylvanian accent in my head.

“My, my, Cassandra, dear. Are you always so rough on old men?”

I didn’t hesitate. I shifted back into my human form.

It always felt a little odd–not painful, but disorienting as the world shrank away from my ears and nose and my sense of sight and taste became the most prominent. I was tall for a girl, about 5’9’’, and I was built like a heavyweight female boxer–long, sturdy legs, wide hips, strong biceps. I’d let my hair get longer than I usually kept it simply because being a werewolf meant I was getting weekly cuts and I’d gotten tired of it. My bouncy brown curls hit the middle of my back and frankly, I sort of liked it. It reminded me of having fur.

“Fangface!” I cried, and I flung myself at him in the mother of all bear hugs.

Vladmir Tepes, the father of all vampires, Dracula, He Who Conquers, wrapped his own now-human arms around me as well and squeezed me to him just as tightly. “I’ve missed you, my dear.”

Hungry for more? Pick up this story and several other amazing ones written by black science fiction/fantasy authors in ebook and paperback from MV Media Publishing or from Amazon.

Best of the Indies Storybundle

Looking for some great discounted summer reads? Check out the Best of the Indies Storybundle!

For StoryBundle, you decide what price you want to pay. For $5 (or more, if you’re feeling generous), you’ll get the basic bundle of four books in any ebook format—WORLDWIDE.

Of Blood and Ashes by Kyoko M.
Mason Dixon Monster Hunter by Eric R. Asher
The Water Blade by Stuart Jaffe
Get Bent! by Rick Gualtieri
Of Cinder and Bone by Kyoko M.

If you pay at least the bonus price of just $20, you get all four of the regular books, plus ten more books for a total of 14!

Second Hand Curses by Drew Hayes
The Fixer by Jon F. Merz
Kill Three Birds by Nicole Givens Kurtz
A Fall in Autumn by Michael G. Williams
Amazing Grace by John G. Hartness
Burning Shakespeare by A.J. Hartley
The Children of Menlo Park by Jessica Nettles
Fairy Godmurder by Sarah J. Sover
The Ghost Dance Judgement by R.S. Belcher
Spells, Salt & Steel by Gail Z. Martin and Larry N. Martin

Limited time only, so grab your copies today!

Voyages: A SFFH Short Story Collection

Welcome to this fantastical collection of ten stories by women authors of science fiction, fantasy, and horror. Let us take you on a voyage… beyond. See what has been, could be, and will be—if you have the courage to come along on the dark and dangerous trip. This collection features stories from Kyoko M, Terri Bruce, Samantha Byrant, Randee Dawn, T.W. Fendley, Penelope Flynn, Carol Gyzander, Patricia A. Jackson, Kristi Peterson Schoonover, and Sarah Smith.

My story is “The Predator” – a short story told from the perspective of everyone’s favorite evil archdemon, Belial. It takes place during the events of Book Two, She Who Fights Monsters.

This short story collection is completely free, so grab yourself a copy today!

Eleven Questions with Milton J. Davis

Hey, everyone! Check out my all-new interview with visionary author and publisher, Milton J. Davis!

ConCarolinas 2022

Hey, folks! If you’re going to ConCarolinas 2022 in Charlotte, North Carolina June 3rd through the 5th, 2022, stop by one of my panels or by my table in Author’s Alley.

Here’s my panel schedule:

SATURDAY JUNE 4TH

11:00AM Dive into Marvel and DC

6:30PM Importance of Character and Voice

9:00PM All Things Disney Plus

SUNDAY JUNE 5TH

10:30AM Books We Wish We’d Written

See you there!

Of Cinder and Bone Dragon Encyclopedia

Ever wanted to see visual approximations of the dragons from the Of Cinder and Bone series? Here’s your chance. Each dragon also has a little factual tidbit beside the illustrations. This list includes the named and seen dragons in Books 1-4, so beware of spoilers.

This is NOT for sale and no profit will be derived from this post. All artists that I was able to identify are credited in each illustration.

Have fun!

Update 7/26/22

It’s officially been three months since the release of my new novel, Of Claws and Inferno! I’m ripping the spoiler tag off and now it’s time to meet the new dragons featured in Book Five. Peruse at your peril.

Of Claws and Inferno – Excerpt #3

Book Five in the Of Cinder and Bone series, Of Claws and Inferno, launches April 22nd! Here is the final excerpt for your reading enjoyment. As always, spoilers ahead. Smaller warning for a bit of language. You can catch up on Excerpt 1 and 2 before jumping in for Excerpt 3.

Don’t forget that the special pre-order price of .99 cents will only last until launch day. The price WILL increase on April 23rd. Happy reading!

A common element in dragon smuggling was the use of privately owned pet stores or exotic pet shops. The transportation would use the company’s logo or even one of their actual vehicles to move the animals across state lines without drawing too much suspicion and to be able to operate in daylight hours. Often, the smugglers paid the shop owners to use their stores to keep the dragons temporarily so they could either go to a dragon fighting ring, be sold to a private owner, or be sent to an illegal cloning site. Given how many shops there were in every city, it made it virtually impossible for the authorities to be able to monitor them all for illegal activity. Tips usually came from a neighbor or bystander who happened to see or hear something unusual, occasionally an employee of the shop who knew something fishy was going on.

This particular tip came from an anonymous source who likely had been cut out of the deal, as they hadn’t identified themselves—just given the Knight Division the location and the possible time of the exchange. They often hit dead ends or were given useless information, but each case had to be investigated. The location was The Wild Ones: an exotic pet shop that sat by itself in a parking lot off of Loop 101. It presented a challenge since it would be easy for someone to see them coming due to the long stretch of road approaching the property.

Which was where having a dragon came in handy.

“Where are you, little bit?” Jack asked over the comm-link.

“Turning onto the exit now. How’s it looking?”

“Parking lot’s empty,” he said as he zoomed in on the property from the tree line on the outskirts, roughly thirty yards from the building. The Wild Ones was one of the largest pet shops in the state with dozens of birds, reptiles, and other animals. The building was the size of an average supermarket. Jack and Hawn had hitched a ride halfway there with Libby in the Knight Division’s decked-out van, then had flown the rest of the way to remain covert. There was bound to be a lookout and so they’d been at a high altitude, then dropped into the woods to stay out of sight. “The tip said they should be here in the next few minutes, assuming it’s legitimate.”

“I love trusting the word of potential criminals.”

“Hey, at least you’re not a detective. They have to do that twenty-four seven.”

“If I’m gonna risk my life for a living, I’d rather get paid better than that.”

“I feel you on that front.” Hawn bumped his side with her head. Jack reached out and petted the dragon’s neck. “Patience, girlie. Shouldn’t be long now.”

Sure enough, a mid-sized cargo van turned into the parking lot and drove past the side of the building to the rear. “Looks like we’re on.”

“Ten-four. I’m about to go past and head for the field half a mile up. Be careful, Barry.”

“Roger that.”

Jack and Hawn stealthily slipped through the woods until they could see the back of the building. There was a loading dock to the left side and a large pull-down garage door. The rear entrance to the shop was towards the right. The cargo van backed into the loading dock space, but the engine remained idle. Jack switched the heads-up display to thermal readings. “I see two people in the cab and the crate of eggs in the rear.”

“Is the igneous dragon with him?”

Jack muttered a curse as he scanned. “Yep. Looks like it’s caged up in the back watching over the eggs.”

“Dammit. I’ll hail Shannon and let him know. Stand by.”

“Ten-four.” He heard the link click and hit record on the feed in his helmet. The cab doors opened and Farhad stepped out onto the pavement. Jack winced as he noted the guy had bulked up quite a lot since the photo he’d seen. He wore an off-white linen shirt, unbuttoned, over a sleeveless tank and khakis. Jack also spotted a handgun on a holster beneath Farhad’s left arm. He definitely didn’t want to tangle with this guy if he could help it.

The driver hopped up onto the waist-high wall of the loading dock, finally giving Jack a look. She was olive-skinned as well, her black hair sporting an undercut. She wore a black t-shirt and matching jeans and boots. Jack noted a gun on her hip as well. She’d left the van idling with the keys in the ignition, which implied it would be a short visit. 

The rear entrance to the store opened and a stocky, short-haired brunette woman in a white golf shirt and cargo shorts emerged. They’d done a quick check on the store before arriving, so he knew she was the store owner, Bethany Hrapski. A large, sun-tanned man with sandy hair flanked her wearing the same outfit; her husband, Jeremy Hrapski. Neither appeared to be armed, which led him to believe they probably weren’t career criminals. It was likely they’d been contacted and given an offer for some extra cash to smuggle dragon eggs. It was less risk than smuggling young or fully grown dragons. Neither had a criminal record based on what the Knight Division had pulled from their backgrounds. Until now.

Jack wasn’t close enough to be able to get audio, so he zoomed in enough to read their lips. The general gist of the conversation was confirming the cargo and the amount of money the shop owners would be paid. The eggs would be kept there in secret to be auctioned off later that evening to a group of buyers. There were twelve eggs total: three Hercules dragons, six Australian desert dragons, and three crystal dragons.

“I’m back,” Libby said over the comm-link. “Instructions are to neutralize the igneous dragon and then the cops will move in.”

“Oh, good,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “An easy job at last.”

“I know,” Libby replied, irritation clear in her voice. “We’re still getting quite a bit of resentment from the cops due to the nature of our work, so they assume we can handle this on our own.”

“Well, I’ve only met four cops in my entire life that I ever liked, so the feeling’s mutual.”

“That’s four more than me, so no judgment here. What do you think?”

“Best bet would be to create a distraction and steal the cargo van. That way, Farhad can’t spring the igneous dragon to wreak havoc and the cops can raid the joint and take everyone into custody. Do we have air support?”

“Yeah, they’re just waiting on the signal.”

“Good. If anyone tries to hoof it, the helicopter should be able to track them. I’ll puncture the tires on the Hrapskis’ car first and then go for the cargo van. Still, it’s four against one. The Hrapskis don’t appear to be armed, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have firearms in the shop. I need you and Jayna to head over to back me up in case this goes sideways.”

 “Alright, we’re on our way. Let me know when you’re ready.”

“Ten-four.” Jack patted Hawn’s side to get the dragon’s attention. “Stay. I’ll whistle if I need you.”

The dragon sunk into the dirt in sphinx position at the command. Jack almost smiled. It never ceased to amaze him how intelligent the dragons were. If the world weren’t so aggressively awful, some of them could certainly be domesticated.

The Hrapskis had a silver Nissan minivan parked one space down from where the cargo van had parked in front of the loading dock. Jack slunk through the woods until he was at an angle obscured by both vehicles and waited until Jeremy lifted the garage door and the group began to unload the dragon eggs from the back.

“Moving in now.”

“Gotcha. Be there in five. I’ll perch on the roof.”

Jack eased across the lot and took out his pocketknife before crawling beneath the van and strategically poking holes in each tire. He then rolled under the cargo van and wriggled towards the rear on his belly. He waited for them to finish unloading the dragon eggs until they were all standing on the docking platform and then slipped a flashbang from his utility belt.

He took a deep breath and pulled the pin. “Here goes nothing.”

Jack popped up enough to toss it at their feet and then ducked underneath the cargo van.

The flashbang detonated. An explosion of light illuminated the surrounding area and he heard the group yelp in pain and alarm.

Jack scrambled for the front of the cargo van and wrenched the driver’s side door open. He jumped inside and locked the doors. He checked the back to see a wire net between the cab and the rear where the cargo went. The igneous dragon had screeched when the flashbang went off, as the back doors were both open. It stood at around the same height and weight as Hawn with dark grey scales and white spines down its back, its white wings tucked into its sides as it shook about in its metal cage.

He shifted gears and slammed the gas pedal just as he heard Farhad and the others shouting angrily about being ambushed. The van lurched forward clumsily over the hot, cracked pavement of the lot, jostling both Jack and the dragon violently back and forth as he headed for the side of the building. Gunshots barked a second later. He could hear some of the bullets pinging off the side of the van’s exterior and ducked his head down.

“Libs, did I get them all with the flashbang?”

“The Hrapskis are down, but Farhad and his driver aren’t,” Libby said. “I’m gonna give you some cover, hang on.”

Jack swerved the van in evasive actions as the shots kept coming. He had several yards before he’d be out of sight, but if they’d taken off running after him, they could still hit him or the tires before he cleared the lot back onto the street. He checked his rearview mirror to see a cloud of tear gas explode on the platform, swallowing the driver and the two shop owners in a haze.

Farhad had already leapt off of it and was sprinting after them with an eerie, Terminator-like precision. He took shots every few feet, tearing holes in the wildly swinging doors and along the bumper. 

“Dude’s pretty spry for an old guy,” Jack said as he finally swerved around the corner to the left side of the building. “Can you take him out, little bit?”

“I’m on it.”

A second later, a pair of bolas whipped around Farhad’s knees and he smashed into the pavement face-first.

“Oh!” Jack exclaimed. “Shit, that’s a broken nose alright.”

“Crime don’t pay,” Libby cackled.

“It damn sure doesn’t. I’m almost to the street. You can call in the cavalry and get clear.”

“Happily.”

Just as Jack reached the street, he noticed Farhad moving from where he’d faceplanted on the pavement. He’d rolled over and held something out in Jack’s direction. Jack couldn’t see what it was from so far away. “The hell?”

Then, the door to the igneous dragon’s cage swung open.

The cage door was remote-control activated.

“Fuck. Me.

Pre-order Of Claws and Inferno on Amazon or any other major retailer and don’t forget to enter for a chance to win a free copy of the paperback on Goodreads from now until launch day.