Blog & Archive

Never the Sky

I wrote a serial toot fiction for mastodon written in 1 toot a day for every day of October (or that was the plan, anyway!) It was a labour of love, so I wanted to share it here before it disappears into the archives of social media. I hope you like it.

1

I stepped out of the door and into heavy rain. Crushed leaves slushed the streets and the grass was still brittle with the memory of summer.

My boots skidded and slipped on the doorstep. I caught myself and examined the floor.

The culprit was a small blue card, bright against the cement.… Read more

Making Friends

My short story Making Friends is now available for all to read. (CW for moderate violence and undead things)

Everyone wanted Gretel to make friends, but she was running out of materials. She watched her parents argue about it, voices low, their faces half-lit by the dying ember-fire.

“People are beginning to talk.” Pa rubbed his face tiredly and took a sip from his tankard of dusty ale. Shadows deepened the worry-lines on his face, making him look a part of the gnarled wood walls behind him. “I heard Sif and Mara talking about it today while scribing that new holy text.… Read more

Mental Image and Romantic Gift (Microfiction Roundup)

MENTAL IMAGE

She opened her eyes. The people who had joined her were now an assortment of creatures, fae, werewolves and catfolk, smiling at her from the blank white space of the loading screen.

‘How … why?’

A fox person stepped forward. ‘This reality uses our mental images of ourselves.’ He gestured to her. ‘This is you.’

She looked down and saw scales and clawed feet. She shrugged her shoulders and felt her wings lift and spread.

She bared her fangs and prepared to fly.

 

ROMANTIC GIFT

‘I know I’ve been busy. But I’m putting that behind me.’ The mage’s hands were behind her back.… Read more

Digital Destiny

The creature was a mismatched thing of many parts, sitting alone at the edge of the lake. Dragon wings hugged its sides while bird wings hung drably behind it. A thick tail, lizard-like, twitched across the grass. The rest of it was something between a rabbit and a dragon, all fluff and teeth and serpentine eyes.

It stared at its clawed toes, hanging over the still black water. Its head was bowed.

She approached it cautiously, wonderingly.

She’d never thought to see such a fantastical creature outside a story, or a cartoon. This was an encounter for a little girl, not a woman grown and tired.… Read more

Soul Jar Podcast is Available Now!

I make a podcast/audiobook series called Soul Jar! It follows Gretel Gravetalker, a young necromancer seeking immortality and revenge. It’s free to listen to and full of heartache, hope, and spookiness!

Image by Jiradet Inrungruang, used under CC0.… Read more

Still Hungry (Microfiction Roundup)

More microfiction from Mastodon.

OUT OF TOUCH

She tucked her hair behind pointed ears, avoiding his gaze. ‘I meant to write.’

‘Me too.’ He fiddled with the edge of his cape.

‘It’s just … you know, life has been busy.’

‘What’s it been … one, two hundred years?’

It had been three hundred, but she didn’t want to remind him. She’d let their friendship slip through the cracks. They just led such different lives …

‘Do you wanna grab a potion?’ he asked.

‘Yeah. Yes.’

Elf and vampire smiled shyly at each other.

 

A GIRL BUT ALSO

Its muzzle stopped inches from her face.… Read more

Chilly Feet

She saw on TV that ghosts made things cold, and she’d always had chilly feet at night.

So she found a stone with a hole through the middle and she waited under the covers until the chill made her toes curl.

Gently, she sat up, closing one eye and holding the stone up to the other.

Shimmering and thin as a beam of moonlight, the cat stretched and resettled on her feet.

She smiled and went back to bed, careful not to kick.

She’d always wanted a cat.

 

Image by Mihail_hukuna, used under CC0… Read more

Really There (Microfiction Roundup)

A collection of microfiction written for Mastodon.

 

REALLY THERE

Every night, woken by half-remembered dreams of cracked bones and dripping saliva, she saw the eyes. Two burning pinpricks within a boiling shadow, dark against the darkness.

Every night, she would close her eyes, and when she woke both eyes and shadow were gone, leaving only a lingering unease.

Tonight, she kept her eyes open. Her head tilted left, then right; the eyes followed her.

‘You’re really there, aren’t you?’

–Yes–

‘What — what are you?’

–Your dream–

She licked dry lips. ‘Then — why are you out here?’

–I scared myself–

She considered a moment, then lifted the other end of the blanket.… Read more