The city was almost uniformly built out of the same grey granite stone that also dominated the landscape around it, which made one building hard to discern from the next. Alleyways and bridges, textures and shapes, all seemed to blur together to the woman. Faces, on the other hand, she was hyperfocused on. The particular cast of the eyes here, the shape of the mouth there. All full of a million little clues. Answers to the most important question on her mind.
Are they on to me yet?
Story
An Announcement
to my many loyal fans: thank you for reading my silly little stories
Don’t worry: I’m still writing, and the plan is still to put the same number of words down by the end of the year – all this is is to say that starting today, I’m trying something a bit different. Rushing to a finish after ~6000 words is fun and all, but after 16 (count ’em) I’ve started to ache for a bit more space to play around in.
To that end: I’m writing an eight-weeker – a sixteen-chapter epic that I’m going to be writing as I go and uploading on my regular schedule, bit by bit. It’s a tale of love, revenge and interplanetary colonialism inspired by half-remembered scraps of Rice-Burroughs, “Doc” Smith and C.L. Moore. What’s it called? Well…
Prepare your mind for contact…
PLANET OF THE SORCERER
Chapter one coming later today.
Candle of Chaos: Chapter Four
He was rising to his hands and knees immediately, his eyes glittering an ice-cold black, moving like a cat to spring forward. His fingers, though she knew they couldn’t, seemed to have morphed into ripping claws as he raised them and leapt for her throat.
Candle of Chaos: Chapter Three
The street was quiet of an afternoon, as it usually was. Maybe more so, with the whisperings of the war in the air. Only a few folk were out at all, much less on the main street.
It was less of a disturbance than might have been expected, then, when the town doctor staggered out into the street, staggered under the weight of a man from whom maroon-red blood poured.
Candle of Chaos: Chapter Two
How many of these guys are there going to be? thought Deputy Springfield, looking at the two men in their opposite cells thoughtfully. They didn’t seem to hold any animosity towards each other, except when one spoke the other always contradicted him, with the condescending tone of a schoolteacher who has just been given a wholly wrong answer to a simple equation.
Candle of Chaos: Chapter One
Someone was limping up the street, apparently barely able to stand at all. Eight feet tall if he was an inch, he staggered as the doctor ran up beside him, and she caught him moments before he collapsed entirely…
The Son of the Mad King: Chapter Four
The hoofbeats were like thunder behind him as he rode clutching the reins for dear life, not daring to look back again…
The Son of the Mad King: Chapter Three
This was the moment. His hand reached out. His fingers brushed the soft gold of the petals. He was shaking, his heart at war with itself. It would be such a crime to destroy a beautiful thing like this. He felt sweat on his forehead.
The Son of the Mad King: Chapter Two
Hurrying up to the gates of the castle, March announced his intent of an audience with the Prince with a reverberating yell. His letter of passage from Lord Simas clutched in his hand, he was shown into a high-ceilinged chamber with tapestries draped down carrying verdant forest imagery arrayed along the walls. There was a single table, a long one with chairs for a few guests, evidently the honour granted to the Prince’s closest friends.
The Mystery Man from Dym River: Chapter Four
I cracked my knuckles and stepped forward, my arms raised. More of a signal to my opponent that I wasn’t giving up than an earnest attempt to attack. He still easily dodged out of the way, but my clawing hand caught hold of the edge of his sleeve for just a moment – he was slowing down. He knew it. I knew it.
The Write Stuff 