#face of the moon ebook

[stillbeatingheart]

Face of the Moon excerpt Chapter 9: Name

My mother named me Tilde because she liked the way it felt in her mouth, she liked the way her tongue and lips moved around the consonants.  In mathematics it means negation.  In English it’s most often used in place of about, it’s an approximation.  And in some languages it’s used to note a change of pronunciation.  

Truth is, she was probably high when she was filling out the papers.  And in the years since, she probably felt some need to explain it when people asked, when people wanted to know why she named her kid the title of a squiggly line.  

Amory’s not a word either, but at least it’s unfamiliar enough that most people think it’s just some creative forward-thinking name, some play on amour or something clever.  It’s not clever, it’s a town in Alabama that Mom passed through once in the passenger seat of an 18-wheeler while she was hitchhiking across the country.  Yes, hitchhiking.  How times have changed.  In not so many years.  Maybe we just think times have changed because it’s not romanticized anymore, it’s something for bums and junkies, not for hippies and broke travelers.  Now that the gap year has a name and only rich kids get to do it, it’s not about finding yourself.  It’s about losing yourself, or getting lost in the process of becoming an adult.  

Mom got lost.  And no amazing grace was about to save her.  Peyote either.

I never really thought about my name.  Only when kids teased me about it being a girl’s name but that didn’t last long when they realized I wore girls clothing too, and owned it.  I’d never be one of those kids that apologized with my stance or by trying to blend in, I always knew who I was and what I liked and it didn’t matter to me if others didn’t get it.  It wasn’t up to them to understand.  It never will be.

People say they just want to be understood.  They just want to be around people who get them.  Maybe that’s how it was with Jacy.  We spent our separate childhoods orbiting the same monsters with different faces, we knew without having to speak any of it.  Maybe that’s what it means to be understood.  To have the silence and know what it means.

Could I live without it?  Yeah.  Of course.  I’d lived without it before him and I’d live without it after him.  The problem is that once you have something for the first time, a part of you awakens.  Turns out, that part is hard to kill once it’s come to life.

Ebook available on B&N

[megankoumori]

My middlegrade fantasy novel, "Moon Face and the Dragons" is available now through Amazon and Barnes and Noble! I appreciate all the support I can get!

[tc-doherty]

Book One | Chapter Seven | Announcement

Announcement:

This will be the last chapter of Dragon's Daughter that will be posted for free on Tumblr, just due to the AI nonsense. I opted out, of course, but you never know.

There will be two free options available going forward. If you want to be on the mailing list, send me an ask with your email and you will receive the chapters that way every other week as usual (I will not answer these publicly). For the next two weeks I will also work on getting caught up on Substack and will be publishing there on the same schedule.

I know that makes it much more of a pain, and I appreciate all of your support! If you don't want to take either one of those options, Dragon's Daughter should still be publishing physical and ebook copies sometime this year so you can always wait for that ;)

Index | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tag List: @bloodlessheirbyjacques @magefaery @did-i-do-this-write @marrowwife @muddshadow @outpost51 @full-on-sam @bluberimufim @unclear-contributions @talesfromtheunknowable @guessillcallitart @flowerprose

(Ask to be added or removed)

When Patrice returned to her room at the end of the evening, it looked as if a storm had hit. Most servants were required to return to their posts long before the festivities of the day ended, and hers hadn't wasted a second of time. Fabric, dresses, and accessories were strewn about the sitting room. Maria, Elaine, and Anna sat in front of the open window, chattering like birds as they sewed. They paused in their work as Patrice entered the room.

"Lady Patrice!" said Elaine. "We didn't expect you back yet since there is a formal dinner tonight."

Patrice looked over the mess and the three women perched in the center of it. She did not make a point of saying that she had never attended any of the formal dinners. Instead she said, "I came back to rest for the evening, you need not stop your tasks. And I do not require any help." She added the last bit as Maria began to stand up.

The maid settled back down, but didn't resume sewing. "Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"Yes," Patrice said, a little more forcefully than she intended to. Maria's mouth formed a silent 'O' at the rebuke, and she said nothing further. Patrice turned on her heel and picked her way across the fabric strewn floor to the sanctuary of her bedroom.

She gave a sigh of relief as the door shut behind her. She had stayed out in the stands until the end of the day's jousting, watching as Felisjyta moved up to the next round of the competition. It continued into Saturday, meaning another day surrounded by far too many people and far too much noise. Humans flocked together, as loud and gregarious as the crows that used to roost in the ruined castle. But she'd always been able to scare off crows when they became annoying. Humans were far less accommodating.

Patrice did not bother to light the waiting candles as she traversed her bedroom floor. The rising moon shone in through the windows, and provided more than enough light for a dragon to see by. She draped her mother's cloak over the bed, left the ruined dress on the floor, and used her claws to comb out her hair from the arrangement Maria had twisted it into. That done, she studied her reflection in the mirror.

No one would ever mistake her for human. Fancy clothing could not take away the scales that grew along her spine, and spread out like stars across her shoulders, hips, and cheekbones. Face paints and powders – two things Patrice intended to continue avoiding at all costs – would not be able to hide clawlike nails, or fangs, or amber cat's eyes. No perfume was sweet enough to entirely mask the spicy, coppery scent of dragon that clung to her, and no amount of courtly manners would cool her blood. And yet, something was different.

The reflection that looked back at her was not just her mother's daughter, as it had been before in the tower. Now there was some trace of Lady Patrice Drake too. Some small but noticeable change in attitude.

Patrice sighed. She had tried very hard to ignore the human half of herself growing up. She had tuned out her mother's stories and advice, had refused any suggestions that her future might be among humans. She could admit now, that her mother had certainly planned for this sort of event to happen and had tried to prepare her for it. It had been Patrice's own fault that she didn't want to listen. After all, if her mother had only wanted to fight human knights she could have done that by traveling to them. There was no reason to spread rumors of a maiden trapped in a tower if she had not wanted the maiden to leave the tower eventually.

She was the one who had never wanted to leave the tower.

She was the one who had always tried her best to only be a dragon, even if she was a poor excuse for one. But Felisjyta had given the human half of herself a name, and now Patrice could no longer ignore it. Her mother would probably be happy, but Patrice wasn't sure she could say the same thing about herself.

She turned away from the mirror and pulled the stone dragon from the dress on the floor. Even after a few days it was smooth and worn, the features and details disappearing. Without those, there was little to distinguish it from a statue of a human. Patrice threw herself onto the bed. She wrapped her mother's cloak around herself and reveled in the comforting and familiar scent of it. But she could tell that the scent of her mother was fading, and soon she would be stranded in a strange place, without even that small comfort. She buried her face in her pillow and did her best to sleep.

The second day of the tournament arrived with a heat wave that raised the temperature a full fifteen degrees higher than the previous day. Servants and nobles alike stripped off as many layers as they could without appearing indecent. The same tactic could not be used by the knights, who had to continue to fight and toil under their heavy armor and padded gambesons. Patrice alone seemed comfortable in her emerald kirtle and dragonscale cloak. Even better, Maria had managed to buy her a set of lady's flat riding boots in soft leather. She despaired over the look, but Patrice was overjoyed to be free of the pointless little slippers and uncomfortable wooden forms.

Only two Serzek knights had made it to the final twelve, Felisjyta and a giant of a man named Petrich. The two of them, and their horses, took the heat worse than the Runerian knights they were to face. Felisjyta sat on the ground by the arena trying to keep cool with the help of a parchment fan. Vasya stood with her head lowered, not even bothering to graze.

Felisjyta was riding against Sir Johan. He seemed to be doing better than she, for he still had the energy to flirt with the audience at the far side of the arena. His destrier showed the heat though, and did little except to flick his ears and tail halfheartedly.

"It's just as well the season is about to end," Maria complained, fanning herself off with her own parchment fan. "We can't take much more of this heat."

The maid had elected to sit with Patrice today, instead of running off to visit her friends and relations. Patrice was glad of her company, as Maria allowed her to ward off the attentions of the incorrigible Countess Elizabet. In fact, the two of them had not even chosen a seat until the countess was already seated and involved in a conversation with some other unsuspecting victim.

So today Patrice sat on the opposite side of the arena, far from the royal family and anyone of consequence. She did not mind that at all. She waved her silk fan, more for lack of anything to do than from the heat. The crowd around her waited in a sort of patient resignation, much too hot to be restless.

Maria seemed energetic enough. She attempted to start a conversation again. "I'm glad Sir Leroy didn't make it this far. How he even made it to the second round is a mystery to me."

"Luck," said Patrice. "His opponent's horse stumbled right as they came together."

Sir Johan had been the one to defeat the loathsome knight who had caused all of her distress, and Leroy had come out of the match with sore grace. Although Patrice naturally hoped for Felisjyta to win, she was still a little sad that meant Johan had to lose. He had done her a sort of favor, after all, and had come through the tournament with an amusing flare. Her mother would've loved him.

"He shouldn't have been able to get in at all," Maria said, "compared to some of the other knights who came here. The wandering knights have a harder time getting allowed to compete at all, and he wasn't even the best of them. But I guess killing a dragon counts for something. It's a rare accomplishment these days."

"Oh, is it?" Patrice asked, her voice cold. Maria wisely elected not to continue the conversation.

They sat in silence until the announcer stood up.

Now that the match had almost started, both knights perked up. The mood translated to the horses as well, they lifted their heads and pricked their ears. When the combatants entered the arena, it was as if the heat no longer existed. They bowed to one another as the announcer went over their names for the benefit of a crowd which no doubt recognized them already.

The match clearly showed the abilities of all the knights in the third tier of the tournament. Three rounds came and went without a clear victor. A fourth pass of jousting probably would've been easier, especially in this heat. But both knights decided on a duel instead. Patrice watched with her usual fascination. She had seen Johan fight before, though his style was much cleaner now that he was fighting in earnest and not for show.

Patrice had not seen Felisjyta dismount. Her style, the Serzek style, was based much more on speed than on power. Johan was all about power. His slashes and thrusts were delivered with considerable force behind them, but Felisjyta spun and twirled and dodged his attacks as if she were made of smoke. Johan was no slouch on speed either. He kept up the offensive, and Felisjyta had little time to do anything but dodge.

The duel ranged back and forth across the length of the arena. Felisjyta was at a disadvantage due to the heat, but Johan was larger and tired more quickly. Both were flagging by the time she managed to disarm him with an upward thrust of her sword, much to the shock of both. Both knights stared at his sword, which landed point down in the sand. Then Johan laughed and held out his hand. Felisjyta took it. The cheers of the crowd held for a second before catching on in earnest. The Serzek knights, and Felisjyta in particular, were doing much better than anyone expected them to.

Patrice and Maria both clapped without any hesitation. Felisjyta did not wait to enjoy her applause. She stumbled off the field with Vasya following after, head down and caparison soaked through with sweat.

Patrice rested her fan on her lap. "In heat like this, why bother to hold the tournament at all?"

"The tournament hardly stops for anything," Maria replied as two more knights took their places. "The matches have to be completed by the end of the season, which is only a few days from now. How well people do in the tournament determines who gets invited to summer court."

"So who goes?"

The two knights below began their first round.

"The top three knights and their ladies," the maid said. "This tournament is a way to honor those who serve the crown but don't ordinarily rank high enough to obtain such an award."

Something about this seemed off. "You said that female knights don't usually fight under a favor," said Patrice. When Maria nodded, she continued. "So if a female knight wins, who goes to the summer court?"

"Well…just the knight, I suppose. There aren't that many female knights anyway."

Well, perhaps it wasn't that odd. After all, Patrice hadn't even known that there were female knights until she came here. In all the time she had lived in Dragon's Keep, she had never seen one. She shifted in her seat. "Surely the Serzek duchess is going, so then Felisjyta must go as well, correct?"

Maria shook her head. "Felicity came as part of the duchess's retinue, but she's not one of her personal guards. So she has to earn it, like everyone else."

"And the members of the court who are invited to the royal estate have a higher chance of being involved in the politics of the upcoming season?"

"See! You're getting the hang of court after all, Lady Patrice!" Maria laughed.

"Somehow I think I'm still very far behind," Patrice replied.

Index | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[evansblues]

I have some vedic insight I would like to share as I have really enjoyed all of your astrological analysis. It's a bit of a long post:

In Vedic astrology, nakshatras play a pivotal role, similar to how planets rule specific zodiac signs in Western astrology. For example, Mars rules Aries in Western astrology, and similarly, each nakshatra in Vedic astrology carries its significance.

Chris, based on sidereal astrology, is of the Swati Nakshatra lineage. His most harmonious match, according to Vedic tradition, would be with someone from the Uttara Bhadrapada Nakshatra. This relationship dynamic resembles the classic Cinderella and Prince Charming tale, with Swati representing Prince Charming and Uttara Bhadrapada symbolizing Cinderella.

To find his perfect Uttara Bhadrapada match, the person should have Saturn as their ruling planet in sidereal astrology. This corresponds to either an Aries or Pisces moon in Western astrology. It's worth noting that sidereal zodiac placements can shift, potentially aligning with the preceding sign or retaining the same sign based on specific degrees.

Claire Nakti has offered a comprehensive exploration of the unique physical traits associated with different nakshatras:

Uttara Bhadrapada (Mermaid Beauty):

Found in Pisces, ruled by Saturn.

Ethereal appearance with graceful limbs and neck.

Recognizable wide-spaced, upturned almond eyes.

High cheekbones, a pointed chin, and an overall compact face.

Entwined in the folklore of mermaids and deep-sea narratives.

Hasta (Fairy Beauty):

Located in Virgo.

Mesmerizing almond eyes in hazel or green.

Distinct diamond face, highlighted cheekbones, and a unique pointed nose tip.

This nakshatra echoes fairy tales and has renowned mystical associations.

Importantly, based on Evans' charts, Alba aligns with the Hasta Nakshatra, not Uttara Bhadrapada.

To delve deeper into the essence of the Uttara Bhadrapada Nakshatra, here's an excerpt directly from Claire Nakti:

"The Billionaire's Bride" Nakshatra: The Cosmic Cinderella 🦋

In today’s video & ebook, I delve into the astrological underpinnings of the Cinderella story — from its mythological origins to its contemporary resonance in films and art. Uttara Bhadrapada and its ruling planet, Saturn, seamlessly interweave these diverse narratives. This nakshatra has, through its natives, narrated the Cinderella saga across centuries, signifying a divine “butterfly” transformation from trials to beauty, from ashes to immeasurable prosperity. Its unparalleled prowess in gaining the admiration, favor, and affection of the powerful and influential stands out. This enigmatic nakshatra epitomizes the cultivation of serene, feminine strength. It embodies the “pressure-sculpted” allure of a gem shaped under Earth's profound pressure or a mermaid thriving under the ocean's immense depths. 🐉 Every Cinderella motif — the cinders, servitude, glass slippers, antagonistic stepsisters and stepmother, magical transformation, and more, offers illuminating insights into this nakshatra's profound mysteries.

This exploration unveiled intriguing interconnections, enabling me to delve into this supremely feminine-powerhouse nakshatra and the way the Cinderella narrative extends to the trine Saturn-nakshatras of Pushya and Anuradha. This journey also allowed for a comprehensive exploration of Saturn-dominant women's unique traits. Uttara Bhadrapada & Ashlesha share pivotal connections related to the feminine spiritual path. This led to a riveting exploration of the divine feminine's mysteries and a cosmic interpretation of the "royal wedding" and the coronation of adept figures in occultism.

So given what astrology says and what Claire Nakti says, while astrology might not be perfect, Chris's placements suggest that a partner from the Uttara Bhadrapada Nakshatra would be the best match for him.

Thank you anon, this is fascinating. 🌷🙏🧡

[ladzwriting]

First blurb from THE CRADLE OF ETERNAL NIGHT from the darkly romantic @tdcloud

In a land lit only by the counterfeit warmth of magical technology, the Kler prays for the return of the sun, the moons, and the stars. Ceaseless night and the beasts lurking in the darkness keep the congregation within the Kolebka Wiecznej Nocy trapped in mirthless vigil. Their towns remain quiet as graveyards as they wait for day to come again. What no one knows about this ceaseless night is that the Kler themselves can end it. But they haven’t, and they won’t. Long ago, the Kler banished the sun worshipers, but a heretical sect made the journey back to the land of darkness. Now, only one remains carrying their purpose heavy on her shoulders: a maverick technomancer named Basia. She alone will bring back the light, or no one will. Armed with naught but her own cleverness and a sword imbued with sun-embraced charms, she searches for the Kler’s secrets and finds herself in Tawerna. With the Kler on her heels, she infiltrates a private feast and catches Hanka, a docile bard, in the middle of planning her own escape into the world beyond. Hanka wants nothing to do with the heretical outsider until she discovers that her purpose aligns with the darkness buried inside herself. Hanka knows the secrets the Kler keeps, and she knows just where to go to expose their lies. With only each other and their heretical magic to rely on, Basia and Hanka face the eternal night and wonder, are they truly enough to bring light back to the world?

this f/f romantasy horror comes out October 22 $0.99 eBook preorder for Sapphic September

goodreads | preorder

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Word Find Tag

I was tagged by @thegreatobsesso - thank you!

Fun fact: After I realized I had "gold" in three of those finds, I went back to editing and changed a few lines! XD

My words were: might, light, sight and bright

I'm tagging, if you want to: @sarandipitywrites @pleasestaywithmedarling @winterandwords @ntzsche9 and an open tag if you want

Your words, should you decide to accept, are: beginning, end, hope and despair

This one is, of course, from Till Death (WIP Intro | Ebook) which is now out, yay!

Might

If only he were able to control it, he would have prevented it from healing him on the square. He might have bled out, but at least it would have been over quickly. He was going to die anyway. Despair seeped into his muddled thoughts, but he tried not to cry, because he was already thirsty, and gods, why couldn’t they just have hanged him instead.

Light

Even in the dim light of the lamp, her hair still shimmered like gold. He was too tired to think about the future, about the next day even, but as long as she was here, he could hold on for one more moment. Perhaps that was enough. Perhaps he would live. The feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn’t quite hope, and it wasn’t quite despair, but perhaps a bit of both, and before he could grasp it, sleep finally caught up with him.

Sight

She was there, linen-clad shoulders and messy hair resting on the bed next to him. With her face buried in her arms, she shook in soundless sobs, and the sight hurt more than his wounds. He didn’t want her to be sad, but he was dying, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Bright

Finnian stared up at the starry sky. The white moon was new, but the dim light of the blue moon was bright enough to see the outlines of the trees surrounding the meadow, of the last crops in the garden, of the hut. And of Eilis. Clinging to him like her life depended on it, she had fallen asleep.

[myun-saidthoughts]

The Problem When You're Dealing with 8TH/Pluto House Synastry:

When you have a broken attachment style and if you're dealing with 8th house or pluto synastry, even if you want too, you can't let go.

The part of you that normally feels sick at the thought of kissing someone disappears but only with them, the part of you that makes your stomach turn and flinch at every other face creates the need for them that much higher.

This karmic situation usually happens when one person has emotional burdens where their soul aches for love and their brain denies it.

Your body reacts to their touch and you don't feel the fear of what it means to be emotionally vulnerable,

to be emotionally open,

and you don't feel the fear of what it means to allow that emotion to flood through you, and for once you don't want to run away.

So how do you let go?

In my eBook, I have provided more precise definitions regarding the placements of the IC, Moon aspects, and the potential manifestations of each inner planet in the 8th or 12th house for individuals. You can find the link to my eBook pinned on my page.

[theglamourempress]

I am an expert in the monstrous-feminine (wow thats wild to say but 👑) and here are a FEW signs that the monstrous-feminine is calling to you.

As a lover of horror, IT Pennywise, Hellraiser and Scream are burned in my mind from watching when I was 6 😭 (adults where...?), as a practicing witch and worker with the dark divine. With Lilith on my asc. I am seen & treated like a walking trigger for folks. With my moon in 8th of sex, death, and transformation, my true self is deeply devoted to exploring the mysteries of the dark. Being gay, black, escaping homelessness, s*x worker, and no contact with my parents; I have lived and walked the path of embodying monstrosity in the world as we know it.

And embracing the dark and monstrous has brought me peace and power.

I'm not hiding behind masks anymore (except when I'm literally wearing my masks for c*vid!).

I'm not damning myself and trying to mold and squeeze into roles I was assigned but can never fulfill.

I'm not living with shame and fear and self-hatred anymore.

Working with the monstrous-feminine archetypes has been deeply healing for me, and fun af when you view film and TV as transmissions of myth, magic and makeup as a catalyst for ancestral work and soul healing.

As a witch I am devoted to Hekate, Queen of Witches, as well as three-form Goddess of earth (underworld), sky and sea. But Hekate's darker faces and epithets have been what Hekate has led me toward and I fully embrace and RECLAIM the dark as healing & powerful.

🌹 I'm The Glamour Empress, a witch, makeup artist and writer devoted to the dark and monstrous in horror films, myth and makeup. Join me in my studies of the monstrous-feminine archetypes through film and myth by becoming a

🩸Horror Baddie 🩸

🦇vamp, femme fatale, and witchy girlies who know they want to work with The Vamp or The Witch monstrous-feminine archetype can buy my ebooks here and allow their love for the Dark and terrifying to transform their aesthetic &magical practice.✨️

[proxyflans]

The novel's Kickstarter ends September 20 at 8 AM EDT! Limited tiers with physical rewards are still available!

An anime-inspired light novel about a magical girl with the power to turn her classmates into magical girls.

The Story

The Magical Girl in PROXY follows Kurosawa Takako—a girl who wakes up on a sofa one day, with no memory of who she is or how she got there. After having recurring dreams of darkness and a flan-loving girl without a face, Takako goes to school and finds in her desk a magazine that contains information about all of the girls in her class—and that she’s the only one that can turn them into magical girls to defeat the impending monsters!

The Author

My name is Erika, but for everything with this cast of characters, I tend to go by PROXYFLANS or PROXYdev. All my life, I have loved creating stories with large casts of characters, so The Magical Girl in PROXY seems like the culmination of all that.

I initially came up with the concept for TMGiP back in December 2015 after watching Yuuki Yuuna is a Hero, but I have been surrounded by the magical girl genre my entire life—bits and pieces of the original English dub of Sailor Moon, Wedding Peach, the first volume of the Pretty Cure manga; and later on Madoka Magica, the Cute High Earth Defense Club franchise, and Fairy Ranmaru.

Originally, I wanted to develop TMGiP as a game with my friends, but I proposed it as the topic for my Honors College Capstone Project in 2016, and completed a demo by myself. (Which is available on itch.io!)

Since then, I been world-building and writing a light novel adaptation to assist in laying out the plot of the game.

The Project

This Kickstarter is to fund the resources to publish the first volume of the novel, which contains the first six "episodes" of The Magical Girl in PROXY—varying in length from seven to ten sub-chapters each—currently sitting at a total of about 48.8k words. The final word count may vary, as during the Kickstarter, I will be going through and editing the novel one or two more times—to really make it sparkle like a magical girl!

The resources mentioned above are:

A block of 10 ISBNs from Bowker.

The copyright registration fee.

A license for Affinity Publisher 2 (already purchased in July because there was a sale).

I'm planning to publish a paperback version through IngramSpark, which no longer has an upload fee. The eBook version I am planning to publish myself on itch.io, DRM-free.

This is my first ever Kickstarter, so while the goal is to fund the physical release of the novel, I'm not comfortable enough with physical rewards to offer the novel's paperback version. So, the only physical rewards will be hand-drawn pictures of characters from the novel. These are in the top two tiers, with limited backers.

Rewards

Digital Copy of the First Episode

All tiers include this! The first episode features Hayashi Nana's transformation into the magical girl with power over plants, and her battle against giant Water Droplets that are attacking the school!

Digital Copy of the Novel

Tiers $5 and above include this.

Your Name on a Thank-You Page in the Novel

Tiers $10 and above include this—higher tiers will be placed first.

Drawing of a Random Character from the Novel

One of the two physical rewards—this is on the $20 tier, which is limited to 20 backers. The drawing will be one of the 15 magical girls or 5 villains.

Drawing of the Character of Your Choice from the Novel

The second of the two physical rewards—this one is on the $30 tier, limited to 10 backers. The drawing will be your choice of any of the characters from the novel.

Physical rewards will be on a blank index card, and I am planning on having it in a plastic slip (to keep dry) with cardboard (to avoid bending), mailed in an envelope.

Post-Kickstarter Timeline

As I complete the final edits during the Kickstarter, I will insert the chapters into Affinity Publisher so I can calculate the dimensions for the spine.

When the Kickstarter ends, I will purchase the block of 10 ISBNs. I will also take a couple days to draw the physical rewards and send them out. (Maybe I'll draw them on a stream?)

I am giving myself a hard deadline of November 21 for the art—by this date, I plan to have the cover and chapter art done. However, as I complete the art, I will replace art placeholders in Affinity Publisher—meaning I should be able to get the first episode out to all backers in Mid-October at the earliest. (I might do a stream or two for the art.)

Once all of the art is added to the book in Affinity Publisher, I will export it, then read through it and ensure that everything is formatted correctly. When this is complete, I will go through the process of assigning ISBNs and applying for copyright. I will send out the eBook to all backers who have it as a reward, either in December or January.

After all rewards are sent out, I will publish the novel on IngramSpark and itch.io! Currently planning for the paperback version to be $14.99, and the eBook to be $9.99, though these prices are subject to change.

Stretch Goals?

As I've said before, this is my first Kickstarter. I set the goal very low to be obtainable, and haven't put much thought towards stretch goals.

However, if the project is funded to at least 250-300% of the goal, I'll invest in a professional microphone and record an audiobook version.

Risks and Challenges

Like I said, the novel is just about done—I'm planning on going through one or two more times to make minor edits.

The biggest risk I can think of is that I under-estimated the dates for completing the art and sending out rewards in the Post-Kickstarter Timeline. However, I will keep everyone updated if any issues arise.

[aemcroberts]

✨ New Chapters Alert - "Broken Reflections" & "Guardians of Sorrow ✨

Hey lovely readers,

Today is a magical yet sorrowful journey through the universe with the release of Chapters 30 and 31 of our ongoing saga. 🌌

Chapter 30: "Broken Reflections" dives deep into the heartache of Queen Serenity as she witnesses death of her daughter. Her world crumbles around her, and with a heart heavier than the remnants of her crystal kingdom, she faces an unbearable truth.

Chapter 31: "Guardians of Sorrow" follows the outer guardians at the edge of the solar system. Bound by duty yet torn by regret, they grapple with the fall of everything they swore to protect.

🌙 Exciting News! 🌙 The journey doesn’t end here! Join us this Thursday for a bonus chapter/epilogue where secrets will unravel and the stars may align for a new beginning. 🌟 Plus, the full ebook will be available for free! A chance to experience the tale from the start.

🌠 Looking Ahead: Our next adventure, "Dark Kingdom: Shattered Moonlight," will launch next Thursday! It's the start of the Sailor Moon Modern Adventures - a series you won't want to miss.

Also, note our new release days will be Tuesdays and Thursdays - mark your calendars to not miss any of the magic!

Thank you for your amazing support, stardust and moonbeams to all. 💖

[horrorslashergirl]

He was the tallest man on the military base, and he had to duck his head every time he entered a room. His massive frame reminded me of a mountain and his muscles... Oh, Lord. He was built like a brick wall. His presence alone was intoxicating. Heavy military gear hid every inch of his skin, and the ominous dark gas mask hiding his face only made the mysterious air around him thicker. The only feature I saw of him was his arctic blue eyes.

The first time I heard his voice. GOD! His German accent was like dripping honey over rich whiskey. His voice wasn't that deep baritone, but more of a boyish tone with a wolfish inclination. I was addicted to observing him.

The first time I saw him on the battlefield, I swore I had wetted my panties. His codename suited him. BERZERK. He was a force of nature, a killing machine smashing skulls and breaking enemies' spines like twigs. The blood lust in his eyes made me feel vulnerable but also protected.

I was bewitched by the German mammoth of a man who streamed off pure raw masculinity in the form of sharp hunting blades, ready to cut through flesh and bone like butter.

The first time we were assigned on a mission, just me and him, I was over the moon, but the first mission also changed our professional relationship forever. I should have been careful, and more vigilant, especially with the mission holding up dangerous biochemical weapons.

That pink gas... like a cupid's aphrodisiac, had clouded his mind and turned him into a beast. No, he didn't see me as prey, but as something else.

I was utterly helpless underneath him, and I enjoyed each moment of it. No one could say it wasn't consensual because I had clung to him with the desperation of a woman in heat.

... and like he said... I was his Häschen. His Little Bunny.

This erotic military short story is a stand-alone in the Guns and Knives Series, and contains heavy sexual scenes, as well as details involving childhood trauma. The steamy parts are dark, containing Non-con, Dub-Con, Primal Play, Predator/Prey Play, Aphrodisiacs and Drugging, Graphic Murder, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Knife Play, Big Massive Masked Man.

[stillbeatingheart]

Face of the Moon excerpt Chapter 8: Crush

I started a butterfly garden a few years back.  I can do stuff like that now - I have acres that belong to me.  Acres that Rolex had plans for garages and guest houses and fucking tennis courts or whatever else he could use to flaunt his money.  I, however, want a butterfly garden.

I spend my mornings here.  Smelling the salt of the ocean and watching delicate wings flutter.  I like the flowers too, they have their merit.  But it’s the butterflies.  It’s these tiny creatures that can just up and fly away whenever they want to, these weak looking tissue paper thin insects that can fly up to 2,500 miles in migration.  Those wings, those are wings of power and endurance.  

They’re slow to trust me at first.  Who isn’t?  Give me a creature with a brain who is quick to trust and I’ll show you a fool.  Eventually they begin to land on a flower when I hold it in my hand.  

“I could crush you,” I tell one of them this morning. “I could crush you so easily.”

We’ve been here nearly five years now.  We’ve lived a life of fortune.  Sometimes brutal, sometimes harsh.  But never harsher than the life we lived before the fortune.  It’s the brutality that’s taking its toll.  It’s wearing lines into Jacy’s face, and I hate them.  I thought, probably seven years ago now, that I’d watch him age.  I’d watch smile lines fissure, spread and find permanence in the corners of his eyes.  I’d watch laugh lines etch and carve their way around his mouth.  I’d watch all these beautiful tributaries become rivers and I’d revel in it.  Knowing that I caused some of them, probably most of them.  Jacy never laughed the way he did with me, he never did that with anyone else.  

I watch the butterfly as it’s wings open and close.  Lazily now.  And I think I can’t remember the last time I heard Jacy laugh.

Ebook available on B&N

[spirit-whump]

Whumptober2023 No. 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.”

Journal | Solitary Confinement | “Make it stop.”

Fandom: The Wicked + The Divine

Whumptober on my ao3

tw: isolation/solitary confinement, mentions of canonical beheading (no death or mention of blood or gore), mild hints of body dysmorphia (not exactly, but Jon is disconnected from his body and is trying not to think about it and is feeling weird about it), canonical child abuse

1. You spend the first month thinking of ways to escape. Someone else would give up after the first week. But not you. You’re different - you’re not one who bends, you’re not one who breaks, you’re one who builds. You hold onto those words, even though they had been ones casually tossed out in an act of defiance against who you thought was the weirdest and least effective therapist you had ever met. You won’t break. You’re going to find a way out. If you can’t find one, you’ll build one.

2. When you sardonically ask your dad about the risk of you starving before his two years are up, he undoes the latches around your neck and for a second you stupidly think he’s going to free you. But he doesn’t. He shows you what he’s done to you and you’re glad you haven’t had anything to eat in a month or you would throw up. But your head isn’t connected to your stomach or anything, so you couldn’t do that anyway. You try not to think about it. You can’t.

3. Ananke doesn’t visit at all after that first day. Dad comes down whenever he has the chance, which isn’t often, between all the sex and drugs and whatever other bullshit he gets up to while living your life. You spend a lot of time alone with only your thoughts. In theory it’s no different to life before, but before was a choice. Now you’re trapped down with no one to talk to, and you never had many friends, but when you get out of here, you’re going to make some.

4. Seeing Dad is weird. You’re the only person who gets to see his face underneath the mask. You’re the only person who really knows him anymore. Maybe he likes that. Maybe he needs that, and that’s why he keeps coming back, taking off his mask just to chat with you. He never takes yours off, and you wonder if it makes it all easier for him. Whenever he puts the helmet on, you miss him, but you can pretend he’s someone else doing this to you. But he’s still Dad.

5. A beeping machine is the best you can do. It’s a good idea. It’s simple. It doesn’t look more or less important than anything else you’ve had to make for them, so it won’t draw their attention. That may be the downfall of your whole plan, but it’s something. It’s all you can think of. You’re scared. You’re trying. You have to keep trying. You can’t stop trying. It’s all over if you stop trying. If you give up, you’ve lost, and you can’t lose. You have to keep building.

6. You’re so tired. You don’t know how a head that doesn’t need a body to live can still get tired. You don’t know how any of this works, and you won’t stop to think about it. You don’t need to sleep, not really, but you do out of habit. That’s the benefit of not having a body, you guess, not having to get comfortable before being able to sleep. A head just needs a place to rest. You have that. You wish you could lay down. You’re so, so tired.

7. The cell is six feet long, six feet wide, and ten feet high. That’s your entire world. You used to be content just staying in your room half the day. You were never an outdoorsy kid. But you can’t even properly breathe the air in here, and you can’t move, and you can’t do anything about it. You keep trying. Every time they ask you to make something, you slip in something else that could lead someone to you. When you get out, you’re going to go to the park.

8. They could at least give you something to read. An ebook would be easy, they could just hook you up to a Kindle and you wouldn’t even need fingers to turn the pages. Or a DVD player, one of the portable ones from when you were a kid and needed entertainment in the car on the occasional day trips up north. You sometimes feel like your mind is melting from boredom, and it scares you more than staying here forever. If you don’t have your mind you don’t have anything.

9. You have to think about it. You finally stop to think about it. You consider your options. You’ve made robot armor, robot suits, you’ve built canons and mind-control machines, you’ve built things that should have been impossible outside of comic books and cartoons. You can build yourself a body when you get out of here. You start to draw up the plans in your head. They’ll be ready to go whenever you get out. It’ll be nice to build something with your hands again. When you have hands again, anyway.

10. You wonder how your mom is doing. You haven’t heard from her in years and you’d like to keep it that way. If she wanted you to miss her, she shouldn’t have left. But you still wonder. Does she know you’re missing? Does anyone? Dad pretended you had run away, he told you that, but he also told you he’d gone great lengths to "find you again". You wonder if he called your mom. You wonder if she’s worried about you. You don’t know if you want that or not.

11. You were never a violent kid. When the schoolyard bullies got you down, you fought back, but you didn’t like to. You weren’t any good at it, anyway. Now they have you building weapons. You don’t want to do it, but if someone has to do it, you’d rather it’s you, not them. You finally have a choice.  You could make it right, and you do. You make cannons, lasers, a giant robot warrior, mind control machines, and you hate it as much as you’re proud of yourself for it. 

12. The door cracks open. You hear voices. You recognize one of them from Ragnarok, what feels like a lifetime ago. You recognize the other from the recordings Dad has shown you. They’re the first voices besides your own and Dad’s you’ve heard in over a year, so you don’t care much when they fail to free you and they’re yelling at each other. When the Ragnarok girl undoes the latch on your neck, you feel her fingers graze your skin, and you could cry. Someone else is here with you. 

[bookofmirth]

Everyone making far fetched theories and manage to connect the moon to their skinny jeans: "Sarah janet maas is the best writer. The queen of forshadowing! Obviously this little detail in the second book that was never mentioned again after is a clear forshadowing for my ship! Her mind blows my mind. She's a genuis and y'all just lack reading comprehension!"

Sarah j maas:

"Her youngest sister had been taken by this male because Nesta herself hadn't been able to face him. Tamlin had even looked at her and asked if she'd go in Feyre's place. And she had said no, because she was a hateful, horrible coward." Acosf, when she met Tamlin.

Miss maas- this sh*t did not happen in the first book.

Either she legit forgot what actually happened or she changed it to spice it up for... whatever reason. Nesta already feels guilty for a lot of things, including the ones where she's not even at fault. Why the hell try to make her out to be this monster that she isn't?! For angst? So she can fill the pages, since she didn't know what else to write?! Literally, what was the point of changing that???? That whole scene was dumb anyways because it felt like Sarah wanted some badass moment, using Tamlin as a punchbag so we can all scream "OMG YASSS QUEEN".

Queen of forshadowing my ass. Her villains and ships are obvious as hell and there are plenty of plotholes left. There's a map, a clear worldbuilding, yet we've been only in the night court for 4 books. Her characters are the most powerful people in the whole universe, but need whole armies and as much as help to kill of the Hybern King. There's no logic behind the magic system either.

Best writer my ass.

okay I didn't remember that quote from acosf about Tamlin asking Nesta to take Feyre's place, but you're right, that was stated in acosf, and it NEVER HAPPENED in acotar. I just checked my ebooks to be sure. ldjalkdjaslkjdlakjslkjasd That's so fucking funny because you're right, Nesta already had enough reasons to loathe herself, and tbh she doesn't need rational, real reasons to do so, sometimes you just hate yourself lmaoooo It's not like the intervention scene where she was able to literally rewrite it from acofas to acosf, sjm just completely retconned that fact from four books ago.

I know people have a lot of fun making theories and trying to figure out the next books, but literally sjm does not plan like that. Everything revolves around who she wants to bang. She figures that out, then makes the plot fit around that, to make the banging happen. She doesn't sit there thinking about the meaning of colors, she literally said in an interview that the Valkyrie bracelet colors were just a vibe, but people are out here acting like the curtains are blue!

If she didn't leave *some* hint as to where things were going, she'd be even worse than a bad writer. She's a pantser which is totally fine, but you're right. All these little details are so freaking inconsequential, unless she decides later on that she wants them to be meaningful. Then in retrospect it's like "omg, look at this clue she left for us" when I'm willing to bet that she did it retroactively.

I do think, to her credit, the reason we're so invested is because she does the characters and their psychology well. I just rewatched my acowar reread video from 2018 (I can link it if y'all want) which I posted prior to the acofas release, and I was right about the characters. I was right about how Nesta and Elain would grieve their father and feysand having a baby soon (I said I wouldn't be surprised if it happened, despite what Feyre said.) I did say that I thought Cassian knew Mor is queer, which I haven't been proven right about - however, I am not convinced that she is executing that issue of Mor being queer particularly well.

SJM's characters are her strength, and so if I make predictions, it's based on that. Where they're at psychologically, how they are reacting to situations, who is mated, who is sad about mates, what kind of circumstances characters are in, where they want to be. If we were to break down the effort she puts into different parts of her writing, it would be like 50% characters and characterization, 45% romance, and 5% everything else (world, plot, prose).

And that's another reason why I keep insisting that trying to figure out ships based on where plots might go is... a crapshoot at best. That's not the way she prioritizes. It's always 1) the couple/who she wants to bang, and then 2) whatever she needs to write to make that happen. "There's no plot for X ship" okay well we all read acosf, right? Because plot is not her priority or concern, she can and will do whatever it takes, no matter how inconsistent or ill-defined, to get two characters banging. There are things that make more sense, characters who are more or less connected to different plots than other characters. But never underestimate her willingness to make Amren have some random ass memory of something that changes the plot completely in order to make the ship she wants to happen, happen.

[ritualoftheancients]

Ritual of the Ancients - Chapter 1: Delicious Neighbors

by Roan Rosser

This is a chapter of a complete vampire novel with a trans-masc main character and a gay romance subplot. New Chapters are posted every Sunday. If you like the novel and want to support the author, ebook and paperback copies can be purchased here. *****

The locked door to my apartment building stared at me mockingly. I rattled the door in frustration, then rested my forehead against the glass.

This was the capstone to a truly terrible evening.

“Fuck,” I muttered to myself, but my words came out at less than a hoarse whisper. I coughed and massaged my neck, trying to clear my throat so I could buzz my roommate and ask her to let me in.

I hated to do it, given it was the middle of the night. Sleep deprived Lindsay was scary. But, as much as I dreaded her inevitable lecture on responsibility, I’d been mugged on my way home from work and the thief had made off with my keys—and almost everything else, including my museum employee badge.

At least, I assumed that’s what had happened, since I had no memory of the time between leaving work and waking up in a dumpster covered in blood. I didn’t even know whose blood it was, since I was unharmed except for a pounding headache and a sore throat. But it didn’t really matter.

Steeling myself for Lindsay’s yelling, I entered our apartment number into the keypad. The phone rang for a long time before Lindsay’s voicemail picked up. She had probably turned off her phone. Not the first time I hadn’t been able to reach her late at night.

I rattled the door again and then kicked it. I was exhausted and thirsty. So thirsty. All I wanted to do was drink a gallon of water and then crawl into bed.

I lingered by the front door while I debated what to do. If I got lucky, someone would come by and I could just follow them inside. But given it was the middle of the night, if I got unlucky I’d have to sleep outside.

I caught sight of my reflection in the glass and was horrified by the sight that greeted me. Nobody was going to believe I lived here looking like this. I scrubbed the worst of the dumpster’s grime from my face with my jacket sleeve and then smoothed my short black hair down. Nothing I could do about the blood stains down the front of my jacket.

After about ten minutes, another resident of the apartments came up the walk and unlocked the front door. I tried to follow him in, but the man turned to glare at me, blocking the doorway.

“Do you live here?” he asked me, planting his feet and crossing his arms as he glared at me.

My reply caught in my dry throat. My tongue felt like sandpaper. I tried to sidle around him to the elevators, but the man threw out an arm to stop me.

“I don’t think so,” he said, moving closer and lifting his hand to shake his finger at my face.

I scowled and took a breath to try again to reply when the most delicious scent hit my nose—like all my favorite foods had combined into one delightful potpourri. Two sharp objects pricked my bottom lip. Without thinking, I lunged forward and bit down on the man’s hand.

Liquid warmth hit my tongue. It was the most delicious thing I’d ever had in my life, yet the taste was totally indescribable. As I greedily sucked down the blood, warmth spread through me, chasing away the chill. I hadn’t realized how cold I’d been until then.

My neighbor screamed and pushed me away. I stumbled backwards, but with my mouth clamped on the man’s hand, I dragged him with me. We spun out onto the walk, the man beating at my head with his free hand. But between the taste and the warm feeling, he might as well have been on the moon for all I heard or felt his cries.

“Get off him!”

I was only dimly aware of the voice until someone punched my jaw, and although it didn’t hurt, the shock of it made me open my mouth and let go.

“He bit me!” my neighbor slurred angrily.

I fell back a few steps before getting my feet under me. A second man, dark-skinned and wearing jeans and a leather jacket, stood in a protective stance between me and the neighbor, who was clutching his bleeding hand to his chest and beating a hasty retreat toward the apartment doors. I recognized leather jacket man as another resident of the apartments.

“What the hell were you thinking?” leather jacket growled. I narrowed my eyes at my prey getting away behind him.

There was a lump in my throat, and I was having trouble swallowing. “Thirsty,” I managed to get out. The unfamiliar shape of something against my lips made it hard to talk.

I met his eyes, and then my gaze traveled lower, to his neck. To the way the vein there seemed to jump to some silent beat. I wanted it.

Growling, I darted forward. Leather jacket man crouched and spread his arms, expecting me to try to dodge around him, so he was caught unprepared by my charge. I hit him in the chest, mouth spread wide, and bit down hard on the front of his neck. He bellowed, but I barely registered the sound. More delicious nectar danced along my taste buds, commanding all of my attention.

That was until the smooth skin under my lips began to sprout hair. The shock of feeling the hair against my tongue made me let go.

I stumbled back, landing on my butt in the grass. I felt like I was well on my way to drunk. I opened my eyes to find that the man was gone. Standing in his place, on four legs and wearing the man’s leather jacket and jeans, was a coyote.

“What the hell?” I sputtered in surprise as I licked my lips to get the last of the flavor off of them.

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” the coyote said.

“The coyote… talked.” The mugger’s blow to my head must have been worse than I thought if I was hallucinating. At least the headache that had been bothering me was gone, as was that intense thirst.

The coyote put its ears back and glared at me while kicking off the jeans that were wrapped around its back legs and tail. “Are you a complete idiot? Wait, never mind. Don’t answer that,” the coyote said when I opened my mouth to reply.

The coyote trotted over and sat in front of me, looking incongruous in his leather jacket and shirt. “You are in so much trouble.” The coyote glanced around and then back at me. I blinked stupidly at the coyote while the dew from the grass soaked into the seat of my khakis. “At least it looks like your victim made it onto the elevator before I changed. Still, I’m going to have to write you a ticket,” the coyote said.

My head spun as I tried to keep up with the coyote’s words. “Ticket? What?” I could see the blood staining the coyote’s shirt collar, confirming that this coyote was the person I’d bitten on the neck. “What is going on?” I looked around for hidden cameras, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary in the quiet neighborhood. “Am I on a prank show?” It was the only explanation that made sense to me.

The coyote stared back at me, looking as confused as I felt with one ear cocked back and his head tilted to the side. “Who’s your Maker?”

“What are you talking about?” I snapped back. Somehow this night was becoming rapidly weirder, and I didn’t even understand how that was possible. “How is a coyote talking to me, anyway?”

“You.” The coyote reached up with one paw and placed it over its eyes in a very human gesture. It put its paw down and sighed. “First, I’m not a coyote. I’m a jackal. Second, you can’t just eat random people off the street. We have rules, young lady.”

“I am not a lady, I’m a guy.” My heart sunk at the misgendering, as accidental as it had been. I pushed the disappointment away and forged on. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to try and eat you, or that other guy. You both just smelled,” I took a deep breath, eyes fluttering closed at the memory of the smell and the taste, “delicious.” All I wanted to do was go home and have a shower, followed by a stiff drink. Was that so much to ask?

“It’s not for some reason. Didn’t your Maker cover anything before sending you out on your first hunt?” The coyote—scratch that, the jackal looked around and then shook his head. “We shouldn’t even be discussing this outside. Come on, let’s go to my apartment and we’ll get this sorted out.” He trotted on four legs over to the jeans and tennis shoes that lay abandoned on the sidewalk, then turned to look expectantly at me. “You’ll have to let me in, keys are in my front pants pocket. And bring my pants and shoes while you’re at it.”

I’d stash the amulet, and then get a ride to the hospital. I was obviously hurt worse than I thought if I was hallucinating talking jackals. I walked over to the jackal, picked up the jeans and shoes, and found the keys in the front pocket, just as he had said.

The jackal followed me to the front door, the corners of the jacket’s unzipped sides dragging on the ground under his chest, and waited while I unlocked it. We got inside the elevator together, and before I could press the button, the jackal jumped up and bumped the five button with its nose.

When we got off the elevator, I trailed him over to an apartment door. The key from his keyring worked, and I let myself in. The jackal darted in after me. As I shut the door behind us, he said, “Just drop the pants and shoes by the door, and I’ll get them later.”

Shrugging, I did as the jackal said and then followed him farther into the apartment. He turned and looked up at me. “Wait on the couch, I’ll be right out.

I sat on the couch, looking around. The apartment was neat and tidy, except for a dirty cup on the coffee table and a discarded magazine on the couch. I picked it up and flipped through it to see that it was all about hiking and camping. Ironic, since it was owned by a talking jackal. I snorted and tossed the magazine on the coffee table next to the dirty cup. Framed movie posters from famous action and detective films lined the walls. Given that I saw literal masterpieces every day at work, the movie posters were actually a nice change of scenery. I might have to get some for my apartment.

The man, human again, came back into the living room. He’d changed into a new dark-blue button-down shirt and dark slacks. He rubbed the side of his neck ruefully, although my teeth marks were gone.

I winced and touched my own neck. “Sorry about the…” There wasn’t a delicate way to put this, so I just spit it out. ”… biting. I don’t know what came over me. Why aren’t you bleeding anymore?”

He shot me a hard look that I couldn’t read, and moved to stand in front of the coffee table with his arms crossed, looking down at me. “As a vampire, you should know better than to let yourself get so thirsty.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” I threw up my hands and flopped against his cushions with a cry of frustration. “I’m not a vampire!”

“You most certainly are.”

I crossed my arms and glared back at him. “Let me repeat myself. I’m. Not. A. Vampire.” I ran my hands down the legs of my pants, trying to hide the way my hands started shaking at his questions and carefully avoiding touching the amulet through the cloth. “My name’s Everett, by the way. Nice to meet you.” I stuck out my hand.

“Jack.”

Jack didn’t move, just looked down at my outstretched arm, and I pulled back awkwardly. He briefly closed his eyes and reached up to massage his temple. The gesture looked better in his human form than it had when he’d done it as a jackal. He sure was handsome. I realized I was staring and glanced away, blushing.

“Okay, Everett,” Jack said, moving around to sit on the chair closest to me. “I see I’ll need to start at the beginning. You are a vampire. Apparently one with a very negligent Maker, but trust me. You are a vampire.”

“And you’re what, a werejackal?” I snorted. “That’s stupid.”

Jack shook his head, looking somehow both bemused and frustrated. “It’s not stupid, it’s the truth. Now, it’s not your fault, it’s your Maker who’s going to get in trouble. I’m just glad I found you when I did. How many people have you drunk from?”

“I assume you mean the biting?” I asked.

Jack nodded.

“Then just you and the other guy you saw.” I wondered where his questions were leading.

“Did he recognize you?”

I shook my head. “He didn’t want to let me inside the building, which was how it all started, so no, I don’t think he did.”

“Good. Hopefully he’ll just think you were a pissed off junky, rather than a vampire.” Jack cocked his head, frowning. “Have you been feeling strange?”

I nodded, puzzled. “Yes, thirsty and fuzzy, with a persistent headache. It started after I was mugged earlier tonight. I’m not sure how else to describe it. I feel more alert now, though. Since I bit you two, it’s like everything is in sharper focus.”

“Tell me everything you remember.” Jack sat forward, focused on my face.

“Why?” I froze in the act of running my hands down my pants again. The amulet hidden in my pocket felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

Jack sighed and put his hands on his knees. “Look, I didn’t want to tell you this, because I can tell you’re nervous, but I’m a, well, a cop. Of sorts.”

This day was just getting better and better. Now it turned out that not only was I sitting in a cop’s living room with stolen loot in my pocket, also I was now a vampire? I had no idea which was worse, but at this moment I was leaning towards the former.

I licked my lips. I could still taste blood on them, and I wanted more. Jack was looking at me expectantly. ”Of sorts means that you aren’t a cop,” I said, looking at him in what I hoped was an expression of innocence and not guilt.

“Not in the way you’re used to, I expect. There’s a whole supernatural society threaded through the human world. I keep the peace in that world. Punish people who don’t follow the rules, help newbies, and make sure we’re kept secret. Which is why I need to find out who made you and why.”

I sat back, blinking. “Oh.” This was even worse than I’d thought.

Jack drummed his fingers on his leg while he regarded me. Every few seconds his eyes darted up to a clock on the wall that showed that it was just past midnight.

“Do I have blood on my face?” I reached up to touch my chin.

Jack shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I’m just trying to figure out what to do with you. I’m late for work as it is, but a newly-made vampire shouldn’t be left alone.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” I snapped, glaring at Jack. “I’ll just go home and hang out there. I need to shower and change clothes anyway.”

Jack sighed and stood up. “No. I’ll take you to your place so you can grab a change of clothes, but then I’m taking you to the office with me.”

Crap. That would be bad. “Look, I’m not going anywhere. I’m in apartment 609 on the sixth floor. I’ll hang out there. Just come by after you get off work.”

“And leave you to get burned to a crisp by a stray bit of daylight coming in through your window? I don’t think so. This is one of the reasons vampires get in trouble if they abandon a newbie like this. You don’t realize how quick you’ll go up in flames if daylight touches your skin.”

Jack kept talking and I rolled my eyes, stifling a groan as I followed him into the hall. I was still having trouble believing this vampire story Jack was trying to sell me, but I couldn’t figure out what he would get out of lying to me. I needed to find a way to ditch him.

~~~~

If you are enjoying this novel, you can pick up an ebook copy at the store of your choice: https://books2read.com/ritualoftheancients

Continue on to chapter 2~

[ninja-muse]

January took forever and February took days. February also saw robins and single-jacket weather and geese migrations, and now it is also seeing December-grade snowfall? The 21st century is weird.

Anyway, I feel like this was another good reading month, even though I had some decidedly all right books in my list and a few moments of "I have hundreds of unread books, why is there nothing to read?!" I managed to offload five (5!) reading copies and only take two in, though I already know I've got two more coming towards me soon because I just can't say no, apparently.

As for book hauls and the TBR shelf situation: I only bought one book, the latest installment of the Rivers of London comics, which I hadn't realized was out so obviously I had to get it. And then read it a couple days later. Also read off my shelves were Dreadnought by Cherie Priest (which had only been on my shelf for 13 years), The Compleat Discworld Atlas, and Jackalope Wives and Other Stories by T. Kingfisher, which isn't pictured because I have the ebook and I couldn't get a good pic of my phone. (People who do this, please send tips!)

And following on from my Digger update from last month: the books are one step closing to shipping internationally! Hooray!

Oh, and a friend with a book box subscription passed a map from the Daevabad Trilogy on to me, so I have yet another decoration for my shelves. Still finding the optimal place for it, and feeling blessed to have such friends.

No idea what March is going to bring, except I feel like there'll be more dithering about reading material.

And now without further ado, in order of enjoyment…

Perilous Times - Thomas D. Lee

Rising sea levels. Mass extinctions. Racists. In-fighting. Dragons. If ever there was a time for the Knights of the Round Table to save the day, this would be it. But can they? Out in May.

8/10

Black main character, 🏳️‍🌈 main character (gay), British-Indian/Muslim main character; Black, amputee, and 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (trans woman, sapphic, gay)

warning: existential despair, violence

The Compleat Discworld Atlas - Terry Pratchett with the Discworld Emporium

A guide to the Disc, with maps in.

8/10

The 2000s Made Me Gay - Grace Perry

Essays on pop culture and queerness.

7.5/10

🏳️‍🌈 author

warning: discussions of homophobia

The Porcelain Moon - Janie Chang

Faced with an arranged marriage, Pauline decides to travel to the Western Front to find her cousin. Meanwhile, Camille is caught between an abusive marriage and her secret love for a Chinese translator.

7/10

Chinese main and secondary characters, secondary character with discalculia, Chinese-Canadian author, 🇨🇦

warning: rape, domestic violence, racism, miscarriage

Jackalope Wives and Other Stories - T. Kingfisher

Short stories and other writings.

7.5/10

Dreadnought - Cherie Priest

Mercy travels from Tennessee to Washington Territory to visit her estranged father, two decades into the American Civil War. It won’t be easy.

7/10

Black and Mexican secondary characters

warning: war, gore, occasional racial slurs, including the N-word

The Fairy Tellers - Nicholas Jubber

Explorations into the history of fairy tales and the people who told them.

7/10

contains discussion of and biographies for Syrian and Indian tale tellers

Rivers of London, Vol. 10 - Ben Aaronovitch, Andrew Cartmel, Celeste Bronfman with José María Beroy (illustrator)

Chelsea and Olympia Thames accidentally free an angry artist from a tree near their campsite—but don’t worry, they’ve got a plan.

6.5/10

Black-British main and secondary characters, Korean and Indian secondary characters

Happy Place - Emily Henry

Harriet and Wyn are back in Vermont for their annual friend reunion. This could be the last time, so it’s got to count. Which means nobody can know they broke up months ago. Out in May.

6.5/10

protagonist with depression, Black, Indo-American, and 🏳️‍🌈 (sapphic) secondary characters

This Winter - Alice Oseman

The Spring siblings would really like a normal Christmas. Shame about this one.

6/10

🏳️‍🌈 characters (gay, bisexual), 🏳️‍🌈 author

warning: discussion of eating disorders and mental illness, some of which is distinctly negative

Nocturne - Alyssa Wees

A ballerina in 1930s Chicago acquires a mysterious patron and finds herself in a fairy tale. One of the dark ones.

7/10

warning: abuse, grief, coercion

Full of Briars - Seanan McGuire

Quentin’s parents want to take him away from his found family.

6/10

🏳️‍🌈 protagonist (bisexual), 🏳️‍🌈 author

Under Lock & Skeleton Key - Gigi Pandian

Tempest is home after her magic show ended in disaster. Then her former assistant is found dead inside an old wall, and it might have something to do with the family curse.

4.5/10

Indo-American protagonist, Black and Indo-American secondary characters, 🏳️‍🌈 side characters, Indo-American author

Currently reading:

The Magician’s Daughter - H.G. Parry

Biddy’s magical guardian is under attack and she must leave her island home to protect him.

Stats

Monthly total: 13 Yearly total: 25/140 Queer books: 4 Authors of colour: 2 Books by women: 9 Authors outside the binary: 0 Canadian authors: 1 Off the TBR shelves: 4 Books hauled: 1 ARCs acquired: 2 ARCs unhauled: 5 DNFs: 0

January