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All’s Fair in Love and Vampires

All’s Fair in Love and VampiresKit Campbell Even chocolate started to taste bad after the third bar. Sophia forced herself to swallow the last of it anyway, said, “Right,” and went out into the dark streets. The chill seeped through her coat as she kept to lonely alleyways and forgotten corners. “C’mon,” she murmured. “I didn’t make myself sick for nothing.” “You smell divine,” purred a voice from behind her. “I do so miss being able to taste food—especially chocolate.” Finally. Sophia reached under her coat, then froze as she sensed movement off to her left. “What’s a sweet thing like you doing in a place like this?” said a second voice, then laughed. Ugh, even the undead were crap at pick-up lines. So, for future note, three bars were too many. Sophia tightened her grip on her stake—her only stake. “Back off,” said the first one. “I smelled her first.” “Come on, bro,” said the second. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to share?” Well, served her right for being unprepared, but she’d be damned if she didn’t go down fighting. Sophia spun, pulling the stake out as she went. She lunged at the first vampire, who hissed and danced out of her reach. She cursed under her breath. She was out of her element—normally she waited until they were on top of her before she struck. But with two— “Not cool, dude,” said the second one. “That’s not playing nice.” His voice sounded closer, but Sophia couldn’t pick…

More Poems!

For our April freebie, I was in a poetry mood again. Here are more poems! Hope you enjoy! ~Erin Before Poetry We are made of star-stuff, Carl Sagan said But before poetry I was not a starEmpty, useless, aimlessstitched together crookedcobbled together with dust and boneand a muttered prayer over me I was not a vibrating pulsating thingmy heart lay deadgray and rottedmy silver strands of meaning severedparting gifts no light of creationcradled within But nowPoetry is lifeblood, red-hot and flowing through my veinsfire and tears, leaving echoes where they touched,It is the burning energy and the searing of passion,shining with silver gossamer light It is the infinitesimal spark of creation,lighting me up like a spirit in the darknessfilling me with purpose and meaningstitching me back togetherto myself Watch as my heart beats again, strong and surealive again Can you see it? It is meStar stuff. Secrets You tuck a strand of hair behind my earand your eyes meet minein them I see a perfect mirror image of myselfOn your bed, caught in repose, aftersweet communion.When I prayed the tide of years wouldn’tdrown usand our love was as vast as the ocean I pulled the Lenormand Fish card todayand it speaks of deep, deep connections Looking into your eyes, I can believe thatour souls have spent lifetimes intertwined We start a slow back-and-forth movement ofswings, our hands joined, our feet drawinginvisible pictures in the grass. I want to trace your fate lineand see if it matches mine— “We’ve much too…

The Breath-Stealer

by Siri Paulson In a dark pandemic winter our breath is trapped in our lungs with fear of the breath-stealer “Look for the helpers” sounds stale by now “Let’s talk” sounds laughable “Thank you” will never be enough we cling to “Protect the vulnerable” but it’s a long, long road each of us walking alone or in tiny groups, bereft of the touches and smiles and tiny moments that made up our lives, once A day in the neighbourhood, going for brunch with a loved one, chatting with shopkeepers, strolling home along the sidewalk our breath easy, relaxed… A spin on the dance floor, a community moving together, stomping and twirling as one, smiling into others’ faces, breathing each other’s air as the band plays on the stage… A hug from a loved one, family or a dear friend, catching a wink or a gaze, sharing a plate across the table, a visit to a home where we are welcome, a head massage or a playful poke, breathless because we’re laughing so hard, casual platonic intimacy… A flight across the globe, an adventure away from home, new air entering our bodies as we breathe deep new smells sounds tastes sights, to carry back inside us, expanded… We never dreamed of a day when we’d lose all of those at once the little things and the big ones, crowds and theatres and stadiums casual shopping, casual hugs, bare faces and free breaths, lives more expansive than we knew… Now we are…

Curiosity Killed the Cat–Part 7

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Standing before another puzzle with the standard three answers, Jhi Bo decided she was becoming heartily sick of doors. Gerda muttered behind her, and Jhi Bo added that to the list of things making her want to pull her braids out—the incoherent mutterings of her companion. Though she doubted being able to understand would have been better. The girl was probably not thrilled with the competence on display by the heroes she must have thought would save the day with a quick bit of magic and perhaps a small swordfight. At least after their trek outside the maze, they had a lantern for their second attempt, though the girl still tended to let it droop by her side so that at every door Jhi Bo opened, the interior had a woman-holding-a-sword shaped shadow. And they had food, so when they caught up—Jhi Bo shook her head. When they caught up to that fool Srivasi, she would let Gerda feed her brother, but she would not offer food to that blasted mage. Why hadn’t he just waited for her? Because of the questions, she was sure. Srivasi needed to know and surely no maze could tempt him like one so clearly made by one like him—someone with that quest for any and all knowledge, no matter how useless or obscure. Jhi Bo opened a door, her sword at the ready since she couldn’t read the question, let alone guess the correct…

Three Love Poems

Hi, this is Erin. For this month’s Freebie, I am sharing three poems from my Bad Poetry Project. 🙂 Hope you enjoy. STARDUST AND SONG The scaffolding of my hope may never reachthe height of my prayersStill I climbStill I searchStill I listenfor the whisper, the echo, your voicelost in thundercloudsyour song,my foreveryour placea carving inside my heartetched with words I wrap around myselfwhen I cannot breatheYou breathe for me,sustenancewhen the loneliness punchesa hole in my heart,you hold me, rock me,bring me back to myself. You’re my center, my True North, my lightto guide me homeWe are stardust and song,we are eternal. IN THE EDGES OF DREAMS You stood on stage, an angelwrapped in hues of redWhen you sang, it forged a connection between usever brightpast to presentmemory to memoryaching soul to aching soul You touched my hand,a brush of fingers,but in that moment, I sawyou were the missing part of methe part that called to me in the edges of dreamsthe part that whispered to me in the nightthe part I lost in the shadow of time—Your voice soothed my tattered edges We weren’t alone anymorewrapped around each other in pure bliss,joined in this placemade of starlight and promises And then I awoke with the dawn— To think I’d never feel your lips on mineor taste the sweetness of your wordsto think I’d never seehow your eyes captured minehow our life together unfoldedyears falling into yearsTo think I’d never hear your voicewhisper perfect, loving wordsTo think I’d never hear…

Coat of Scarlet: A Clockpunk Tale, Part 7

by Siri Paulson Read previous installments: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 For Marius, deciding to make himself a place aboard ship was rather easier than the doing of it. Gloriana was friendly enough, but Marius dared not rely on her alone to be an ally among the crew; her comments about himself and Niko had been sufficiently ambivalent to give him pause, and moreover, being ship’s quartermaster kept her far too busy to nursemaid a land-rat. The other crew members tended to either give Marius a wide berth or rib him mercilessly. At least they confined their ribbing to his haplessness aboard ship; Gloriana seemed the only one brave enough to give commentary on Niko. He could have ingratiated himself with mending, but he was still working on the justacorps coat until his fingers cramped. It had been worn long enough that the lining needed mending in more spots than just the one, and the cuffs needed turning. The attempted theft at the docks had not improved matters, for it had been both torn – again – and dirtied. After all that, he was determined to return it to Niko in better condition than it had come to him. So he found himself with no spare skills to offer, nor any but the most basic knowledge of the workings of the airship. The best he could do was keep out of the way during maneuvers and drills –…

Taming the Beast, by Kit Campbell

Taming the BeastKit Campbell Mortimer the Magnificent leaned forward, his focus completely on the task in front of him. He almost had it…just a few more inches… There was a knock on his door, startling him. The replica of Gildrun’s sword, tiny and perfect, fell from his fingers, clanging onto the table in front of his model of the great hero’s historic defense of Longswallow. Mortimer sighed; it never failed. The knocking continued. Mortimer frowned at his model, but there was no use going back to it, not with that ruckus. He pushed to his feet, crossed the room, and pulled the door open just as the man on the other side of it started to knock yet again. Mortimer calmly dodged the man’s fist. “Can I help you?” “Oh, ah, yes.” The man took off his hat, holding it with both hands. “I’m looking for Mortimer the Magnificent.” Oh, no, not this again. “You’ve found him.” “I have?” The man tried to discreetly examine Mortimer and failed miserably. “You’re Mortimer?” Mortimer was never quite sure what they were expecting to see. A slight man in glasses and a worn cardigan never seemed to be it. The man scuttled back, starting to bow but then apparently deciding otherwise halfway through the motion. He fidgeted with the hat in his hands. “Hector says you got rid of his dragon problem.” Mortimer had no idea who Hector was, but suspected he knew where this was going. “Yes…?” The man fidgeted more. Mortimer…

Curiosity Killed the Cat–Part 6

by KD Sarge Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 In the dark of a few dim dancing lights, tens of eyes stared from the bottom of the stairs at Srivasi and Dasid. For a moment Srivasi tried to count them, but the eyestalks and the lights both swayed as if to an unheard music, and some of each dropped down as others popped up and—and far more important were the claws, great pincers as thick as his forearm. One for each creature—the opposing pincer was half the size. Wide bodies built low, pincers—crabs. Giant—for crabs, the tallest would come up to Srivasi’s waist, but the leg-span was huge, and they were armored with—or possibly made of—rock? Dasid moved to put the gem in his shirt. The crab-shaped rock creatures swayed forward. “Stop,” Srivasi murmured. “Don’t move.” Dasid froze. “I was just—” “Put your hand down.” Dasid lowered his hand. The creatures swayed back, like sea grass as a wave ran out. “What, do they think it’s a weapon?” Dasid asked, moving the gem slowly behind his back. “It’s—” The creatures leaned forward again, as if a wave pushed them, but a little closer, each wave bringing the tide farther up the beach. “Hold it in front of you,” Srivasi breathed. Was it theirs? Were these the book thieves? That couldn’t be. But what other candidates did he have? “I’m trying to protect it from those things!” Dasid snarled, but he held the gem in front of him. The…

First Soul

a short story in the Reaper Girl Universeby Erin Zarro I gazed down at the sleeping child in front of me. She lay in a bed surrounded by colorful pillows and covered by an equally colorful comforter that looked heavy and comfortable. She, however, looked anything but comfortable. She had one of those oxygen things poked up into her nostrils, an IV in one arm, and what looked like a catheter from the bag that hung down from the bedside. This child was sick. Her pale face and dull blond hair told me that she’d been in the hospital for a while. “She looks so peaceful, Ariana,” my mother, the infamous Grim Reaper and private investigator, Leliel Ashton, said softly. “But she’s dying,” I protested. “How can she be peaceful?” “There’s a kind of peace that comes with death. And with the reaping of the soul,” Mom said, glancing at me and holding my gaze. “This soul will need you when it’s time. You must be ready.” I frowned. “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready, Mom.” She’d hammered this death stuff on me for fifteen years. It felt like the world’s biggest burden and not my life’s work. I loved to paint. Maybe giving life to new creation offset the fact that I was basically a death angel. The beauty in creating something from nothing felt more like my life’s work than anything. Mom’s jaw dropped. “You…

Coat of Scarlet: A Clockpunk Tale, Part 6

by Siri Paulson Read previous installments: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 True to his word, Niko did not approach Marius for the next three days. The airship gained her distance from the busy skies around the city and settled into what Marius learned was cruising height – below the clouds, yet above the birds. They were high enough that he couldn’t look down without wanting to evacuate the contents of his stomach. It was unjust, he thought; there was insufficient motion to merit seasickness, and yet here he was feeling weak-kneed and queasy regardless. Marius found himself a succession of out-of-the-way corners to curl up in, often with the justacorps coat on his lap for lack of a table. Several of the niches had the advantage of allowing him to watch Niko at work. The captain’s confidence and swagger had dominated Marius’s little shop. Here aboard ship, among his crew, Niko’s airs seemed not only fitting but necessary. Small wonder he had been so anxious for the return of his scarlet coat. Everyone on the ship seemed to have an outsized personality, from Gloriana on down to the little cabin boy who spouted facts about airships – and this one in particular – at every opportunity. Everyone, that is, except Marius, who could not help but wonder what Niko had seen in a plain, unassuming tradesman like him. He had asked for time to settle in; now he began to fear…

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Category: Freebies