Tag: Short Fiction

A New Life – Short Story

Author’s Note: This is a short story that follows When Casey Met Staruff. Both are set in the Blood of Midnight universe. Hope you enjoy!

A New Life

 

Freden Baysmuth glowered at Casey but the young giant was not intimidated. Having just stared death in the face and won the wounds to prove it, an angry father was nothing by comparison. Bram didn’t look up from his tending to the ugly hole where the arrow had been ripped from Casey’s chest. Perhaps he was just intent on doing a proper job of it, but Casey suspected his elder brother was avoiding looking at Freden.

Continue reading “A New Life – Short Story”

Blood of Midnight Short Fiction Update

The next short story I’d like to present for your reading pleasure will be about Casey’s decision to leave his life of yak-herding to make his fortune as a mercenary. Naturally, his father is not pleased.

As is the bane of my existence, I have yet to decide when along the timeline the story should start. Events for me are a continuous stream, much like real-life history. That, however, is bad storytelling and I wish only to give you the interesting bits to read.

Send some good mojo my way y’all! I’ll get on it as soon as I can.

A Setup – A Short Story

Author’s Note: Here’s a short story that I submitted to the Writers’ Circle this past weekend. It was pretty well received and I liked it enough to revise it and share for your reading enjoyment. This short is based in the same world as a novel I currently have on the backburner to work on when I don’t feel like tinkering with Blood of Midnight. Got to keep those writing muscles in shape and a change is as good as a rest! Hope you like it.

 

A Setup

“We don’t serve his kind in here,” the barkeep said, jabbing a stubby finger in Arkan’s direction.

Kierendros looked at his travelling companion and frowned. Ordinarily, he’d have exercised his right as prince of Endar to put the man in his place but their mission required secrecy. Without his crown and sigil, his word held no power, especially not here in Eastern Gar. Alder-Venian outposts littered the coast like clots of seaweed after a storm.

The dark elf blinked slowly, making no move aside from white lashes falling over cerulean eyes, but the inn quieted as though he’d drawn blades. The patrons nearby shifted their chairs away from him. Arkan stepped close to him and whispered in his ear.

“My Lord, all is well. I can wait outside.” Continue reading “A Setup – A Short Story”

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