Weekend Update

You know you want to buy it!

Here’s a report on my recent activities.

Through the Sting of Fairy Smoke a short story of mine was released a couple weeks ago in the Nine Heroes: Tales of Heroic Fantasy anthology.  This is my first time in print (as opposed to ebook format).  There are nine stories altogether, and it’s well worth the read.

If you’d like to stop by and have me sign your copy, I have several pens warming up for that purpose.  One of my local fans did just that today.  It was the first time I’ve actually signed an autograph.

The Second Cut, a historic fiction about the only female samurai warrior, Tomoe Gozen, picks up where history left off as she tries to complete her last duty while being hunted by the armies of the Asahi Shogun.  This novel is in the final rough draft stage and is being read by my beta team.

He Who Tells the Tale is another short story that will be released shortly in an anthology by Harren Press.  This is a heroic fantasy genre anthology set in a shared universe.  It's a good story, even if I say so myself, and you won't be disappointed (offer not valid in all states, your mileage may vary, see rules for details).

I’ve started work on two more short stories.  One is another heroic fantasy.  The other is a crossover heroic fantasy and horror story.  I’ve never written horror before, but Stephen King does it all the time, so how hard can it really be?

Judge me by my sex, do you?

Right, Uncle Steve?  How hard?

He’s very shy.  But I have it on good authority that he uses the same internet where my blog exists, so there’s definitely a very small chance that he’s reading this right now.

Oh, and here’s a little excerpt from The Second Cut to whet your whistle.  Bon appetit!

“I can’t guess what your name is,” Irobe said softly into the horse’s ear, “and you can’t tell me.  But we shouldn’t ride into battle and death without knowing each other.”

The horse snorted and stamped a hoof again, his ears raised and perked.

“I am Tadatsuga Irobe, son of Tadatsuga Ishito, samurai and vassal to the great Tomoe Gozen, whom I serve unto death and beyond.  As ronin I had nothing but shame.  Tomoe Gozen accepted my sword and gave me back my honor.  Sadly, I have claimed no heads while her retainer.  Now, with your help, I’ll repay a portion of that debt and fulfill my duty.”

The horse whinnied beneath him, and Irobe smiled.  He patted the muscled neck of his mount one last time and rose to sit tall in the saddle.  The pound of the hooves was close.  He had only to wait and they’d be upon him.

“But that won’t serve my lady,” Irobe said

He dug his heels into the flanks of the standing horse.  With a rear and a scream, the horse launched itself forward, faster, it seemed, than they had traveled before.  Irobe laughed into the wind made by their passage, held his katana high above his head, and aimed the point aimed at the center of the road.  The horse galloped, as if pursued by every evil kami ever granted life, toward the first bend where Irobe knew he would meet his enemy.

No jokes about my helmet!

“Go-zen!” he screamed out the remembered battle cry, “Go-zen!  Tomo-e Go-zen!”

Irobe and his horse rounded the bend as the pursuers made their turn toward him.  He slammed into horses and riders before they realized what had happened.  He swung his katana, as if no force in the world or in the heavens could defeat him.  Up and down his sword rose and fell, cutting into men and beasts alike.  He heard cries of surprise, anger and pain.  Horses screamed as their masters went slack, or as they themselves were wounded.  Riders tried to bring their lances down on Irobe, but the first were too close and his attack too sudden.  He cut to his right and to his left, giving his horse its head, all screamed the battle cry.

“Go-zen!  Go-zen!  Tomo-e Go-zen!”