Sliding in super last because I did four festivals in four days and I’m beat. I had such a great time at the Mothman Festival this year though.
Since it is spooky season I’m going back a little in time to my paranormal novella, Cassadaga Nights set in the psychic town of Cassadaga, FL where I used to live.
Ryan drew his shield over himself, letting his psychic senses dampen down. All day, most days, he dropped his armor, walking around exposed, vulnerable on all sides to the flood of stimuli. Such was the life of a professional psychic. He was unable to cut himself off when he was on the job. His clients depended on his abilities. While he could cold read a person to give Houdini a run for his money, Ryan was the real deal when it came to being psychic. Houdini would have had a helluva time debunking his abilities.
Blurb – Santino Bellomi and his coworker, Cam, are sent to Cassadaga, Florida by the Aspida Pneuma, a group of psychics and mages. Their job is to rescue a nixie from a polluted lake and to check out the town, which is known for its psychics. New recruits to the Aspida are always welcome and where better than a spiritualist camp to hunt for them? What Santino wants most, however, is to finish the assignment quickly. He isn’t a fan of heat and humidity, and he’d looking forward to a well-earned vacation once the mission is over.
Ryan Doyle grew up in Cassadaga, where being psychic runs in the family. Ryan has never roamed far from home, though it’s hard being a geeky gay, wannabe urban fantasy author living in a small town. His job as one of the town psychics is fairly routine until he meets someone new. Ryan has never encountered anyone with a psychic shield so strong until Santino sits down for a reading. Intrigued, he asks Santino out even though Santino is as secretive as he is fun.
Santino hopes to win Ryan over both for himself and for the Aspida. And he’s hoping his skills in the kitchen will swing the balance in his favor. Ryan has almost given up on finding love, living in rural Florida. Can a seductive tourist be the answer to his dreams?
Things never run smoothly for those in the Aspida. What should have been a simple rescue mission is plagued by mosquitoes, enraged ghosts, and someone or something draining residents of their life force. Ryan’s first foray into adventure may be his last.
Check out J. Scott Coatsworth’s latest, The Death Bringer. Book four in his SF series (full series info at the end). What an amazing cover, am I right?
Book Blurb:
AIK WILL NEVER BE THE SAME… AND NEITHER WILL HIS WORLD
War is coming. Aik has become the Progenitor, and the Seed Mother has released him to transform the world for her alien brood. Silya and Raven, Aik’s former friends, are the only ones who can save him and the world. But what if the cure is worse than the invasion?
As Silya rushes to prepare Gullton for the battle to come, she’s determined to save as many people as she can. But new crises emerge that demand her attention.
Raven has his own hands full, keeping the dragon-like verent in line, while helping Silya to save the world. But what if the only way to do so is to sacrifice Aik, the man that he loves?
It’s the end of the world … or could it be the start of something new?
Series Blurb:
The Tharassas Cycle is a four book sci-fantasy series set on the recently colonized world of Tharassas. When humans first arrived on planet, they thought they were alone until the hencha mind made itself known. But now a new threat has arisen to challenge both humankind and their new allies on this alien world.
Non-Exclusive Excerpt:
Chapter One Regroup
He floated, weightless and naked, surrounded by a reddish light and suspended in fluid. Something connected to his mouth and wrapped around his head, like a lover’s embrace.
He used to have a name. He searched his mind for some clue to his identity. I exist, so I must be someone. Or something.
That made sense, but got him no closer to an answer. He blinked. Who am I?
There was no immediate reply.
He lifted his hand. It was encased in metal. The gauntlet. That much he remembered, though it meant nothing to him. Except… it seemed different, somehow. Thinner.
He moved his arms in the liquid, and it sparkled around him where his shifting disturbed it. The metal extended down his wrist and along his forearm, like before, but now it went farther, around his elbow and up his bicep. He touched it with his free hand.
I can feel it. It was as if the metal had become a part of him, his nerves growing through it. He held out his metallic hand and flexed his fingers. What is it?
We call it uurcaa. It’s a sacred metal—it will protect you, and if your host dies, it will collect and save your soul. He could feel the emotions she held back from him. It is the last of its kind from our homeworld. Like us.
He blinked. Then what am I?
You are my son, Iihil. The progenitor, the one who has come before and the first of many more like you. The voice was deep and comforting.
Mother. Warmth infused him at her voice, and an eagerness to please her.
Still, something wasn’t right. He was more than that. He searched his mind, running up against that stubborn blankness. Somewhere beyond it were the answers he needed.
He’d been someone else. Before.
Who was I? Memories of a face—dark hair, intense eyes that nevertheless twinkled at him. Raven.
It came flooding back to him. His mother. His life in Gullton. Training to be a guard and meeting Raven for the first time. My name is Aik.
He reached for the mask that covered his face. It was suffocating. Something was stuck in his throat, and he coughed hard, trying to force it out, whipping around and causing the liquid around him to flash red in alarm.
Calm yourself. The voice was as thick and heavy as an ix hide, and just as soft and warm.
Aik pushed back. What are you doing to me? I don’t want this! Let me out! He thrashed about, trying to force his way through the suffocating liquid. The metal crept up his shoulder. If it covered all of him, he would be lost.
Calm yourself! It was more insistent this time.
Aik stiffened as an enforced lethargy settled over him. He lost control of his limbs, falling still in his floating prison. The voice pressed against his mind. You’re safe. Be calm, my little one.
He closed his eyes and thought of Raven, trying to stay fixed on that face. I can’t let myself forget again.
Then the world around him dissolved, and he was swept up in a torrent of memories that weren’t his own.
Scott lives with his husband Mark in a yellow bungalow in Sacramento. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were.
He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.
A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, Liminal Fiction, and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and was the committee chair for the Indie Authors Committee at the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA) for almost three years..
I think this will be the last post of my SF wip until after Spooky Season. I’d like to bring you some of those soon. Until then here you go. Kaleo is done with his shower.
As he stepped out of the shower, Kaleo froze. Smoke sat there watching him.
“Fuck!”
That was all he needed, to get his privates bit off by Shyroth’s monster cat-thing. She watched him as he grabbed the towel and dry off. She did rub on his naked leg once he tried to get past her. It sent a shiver up him. Damn, why did every touch feel like an invite to ‘let’s get horizontal’ to him? He’d never been like that until the Toy house. Still, Smoke didn’t seem threatening, more like a cat wanting attention.
Running very late again so I’m going to just dive right into it. Kaleo is finally alone in Aneirin’s home and he’s cleaning up, trying to relax and failing. Content warning: mentions of physical and sexual abuse.
Kaleo liked the feel of the warm water whipping all over him. He’d never experienced anything like it. He lathered up and shampooed the hell out of his hair to get all the gunk out of it. He’d never been vain, and he had hated every single time the Toymakers had dressed him up like a doll to get him used to it. As he washed lower, his fingers trailed over the brand on his ass. Kaleo shook. He’d never forget that. They had lasered the mark into his flesh, the stench of his burning skin filling his nostrils. He could imagine he still smelled it.
Like the doc said, I’m trying to find the fun little things to do around here. It could lead to some story ideas at the very least.
For now, here’s more of Kaleo’s first hours in Aneirin’s home.
Kaleo went into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. Devs, he didn’t even recognize himself and he hated the half-painted face staring back at him. Kaleo ripped the necklaces off over his head and contemplated tossing them in the trash, but figured they were probably expensive. He went and put them on the dresser. He got out of the wrap around his hips and, for lack of something better to do with it, he shoved it down the laundry chute, then grabbed some shampoo and soap out of the closet.
Jana Denardo 