Hello readers! This is Siri Paulson checking in to tell you how 2014 is shaping up around here.
First, if you've been following my serial fantasy story "Still Waters Run Deep", you'll be pleased to know that the fifth and final installment has just been posted. (And if you haven't been following it, why not? you can access the first four installments through the same link.) Go forth and read!
Second, we usually release three works for sale each year, in April, August, and December. This year, due to unavoidable delays, we have had to postpone our April release.
However, we're excited about August and December. We're working on a new anthology for August, with a theme we think you'll really enjoy (hint: there will be both romance and fantasy). And in December, KD Sarge is back with a new SF novel featuring the fabulous duo of Taro and Rafe.
In the meantime, check back here on the first of every month for a new free short story, and every Tuesday for a blog post from one of the four intrepid TDP authors. Come say hi! We don't bite. Usually.
(Cue evil laughter...)
A free serial story
by Siri Paulson
Payut fell to his hands and knees on the flagstones of the temple courtyard. The clang of the gate closing still echoed in his ears. He cried out as memories overtook him, rushing over him like a river in a monsoon, sweeping him along...
He is curled on his mat, listening to the slow breathing of the younger boys around him. Something has woken him early; even the most devout of the monks must still be asleep. He tries to ignore it, to close his eyes and return to his dreams. But it comes again – an insistent pull inside his mind, gentle, yet with a hint of immense power behind it. A power that keeps pulling until he follows.
He stands, all gangly limbs, and pads out of the bare room into the central courtyard of the Grand Temple. The tropical night is warm and damp. It is strange being alone, without the chanting of monks and the murmur of boys studying and the occasional slow boom of the gongs that visitors hit for luck. He feels naked.
The tug on his mind draws him across the courtyard, cool stone under his bare feet. He does not understand until he sees before him the great walls of the inner temple, intricate repeating designs painted over every surface. Even the doors bear artwork traced into the metal. They are closed for the night. Behind them, unseen, sits the Golden Statue.
Then he understands. The Statue is calling.
a free horror short story by Erin Zarro
“Do you agree to the terms?” the doctor asked with an accent I couldn't place.
The question startled me. I'd been thinking about all the things I could do if I wasn't dying – I could live in Europe like I've always wanted, I could go sky-diving, I could learn how to pole dance, I could have a love affair. And other things like take the Russian class I've always wanted to. And crocheting....fly fishing...there were so many things I wanted to do. And I needed to be alive to do them.
“Let me make sure we understand each other,” I said. “You said you could give me new life.”
“Will it hurt?” I asked as a flash of fear went through me.
“Not any worse than dying,” he replied.