Hunter Chapter One-- read it before it comes out!

First new fantasy series--with a quest problem.

On preorder now, releases Jan. 13, 2026. (yeah, yeah, that space between the paragraphs won't be there--just a Blogger thing ;).

Please note: still in edits ;).

PREORDER

Chapter One

 

 

I crouched into the shrubs as I stalked my target. My green and brown hooded tunic, leggings, and the vines covering my bow would blend into the trees behind me. As long as I kept my rambunctious mass of red hair tucked under my hood. Some days were worse than others, and today it had turned into a creature from the wild woods. I kept saying one of these days I was going to cut it, but I liked it when it did what it was supposed to.

I’d chosen to ignore how rare that was.

 The late afternoon sun also helped hide me as long shadows filled the woods. But the most important part was holding still until the exact moment my quarry crossed the targeted spot.

Being still was not a natural occurrence for me, no matter how many times I did this. I told myself I was getting better. At some point, I’d believe it.

I froze as the sound of horses came down the tree-covered path below my hiding spot. Three. My source had said there would be four. Had she been mistaken, or was it simply that the fourth rider had too much to drink at the Drunken Ox pub last night?

I held my breath as they moved closer, and my time of deciding to attack or not grew slim. Skipping this job would be bad, very bad. Vuelo was paying good money for a bag of rare coins. But without backup, there was no one to save me if I guessed wrong.

Then the riders crossed an open part of the trail. One of the guards was missing. Which could mean he was coming up behind, had passed out somewhere, or was taking a different route. I really needed this job, so I took the chance that he was out of the picture completely.

The remaining three people were where I needed them to be. Taking a steadying breath, I released the string of my bow. The long arrow sliced through the rope holding up the net, which covered the road, dropping it over the three riders. The spells embedded in the rope knocked out riders and horses, but left them standing. It wasn’t a cheap spell to buy, but worth every coin. Of course, it would only last for about five minutes. I had some magic of my own, but I was new to it, and something this touchy could take years of training.

I slipped my bow and quiver into the sling over my shoulder and raced down to the stunned group. I bypassed the two guards—the man looked like he’d been stunned while getting ready to shout, the woman had her hand on the hilt of her sword, and had already drawn it a few inches.

Neither boded well, as it seemed they’d sensed me right before the net dropped. Which should have been impossible.

Swearing under my breath, I ran to the nobleman. Getting the pouch out without touching the netting over him wouldn’t be easy. In theory, the heavy gloves I wore should keep the spell on the net from my skin, but it still wasn’t a good chance to take.

It took longer than I’d practiced, but I got the heavy pouch free safely. I nodded thanks to the nobleman for the coins, not that he could see anything, nor would he see more than a plant-darkened face under a heavy hood, even if he hadn’t been spelled. But it was nice to be polite.

Ha. In her last letter, my foster sister Alia had bet me three half-pence I couldn’t pull off a job without fighting someone. Nice to know my friendly thief was wrong. And she owed me some coin.

“Hold it right there.” The deep voice behind me wasn’t what I needed right now.

I turned to the man, expecting it to be the missing guard, but he had been described as a half-troll, and this one was human.

He was also cloaked and hooded, not unlike me. And, uncommon to most rogues, he was armed with a longbow. Also, like me. Yet his hood didn’t cover his face well, and I could see he was about my age, with dark brown hair and deep hazel eyes. Attractive, but not smart enough to completely hide his face. I was certain he wasn’t local.

He was someone I would remember.

I kept my head up, watching the hooded man as I tucked the pouch into the vest under my cloak. The one Alia swore could stop an arrow at close range when she’d stolen it for me last year.

I would rather not test her claim.

“I’ll be taking the bag.” My opponent kept his bow steady as he lifted his chin toward me.

Down to two minutes before the stun spell on the net broke. I’d timed this to be on my way out of here by this point. “I didn’t see you doing the work. I don’t think you’ll be getting the reward. Besides, there are widows and children to feed.” I added the last part as a lark. This was going into my pockets, those of Vuelo, who gave me the job, and a large anonymous donation to schooling for the youngsters of the Fae Workhouse. But I’d heard of some thief robbing and giving to the poor halfway across the country, so I might as well play off it.

“Then you won’t mind me taking it to them. I can’t see your face, but you sound like a lovely young woman. One who shouldn’t be out where it’s dangerous.”

A guaranteed way to get under my skin was to mock me as being a frail and defenseless woman. And this idiot wasn’t even doing it based on my looks. At a speed my elven ancestors would have approved of, I drew one of my throwing blades and flung it at the archer.

He ducked but stayed on his horse as I ran around the still-frozen, but not for much longer, nobleman tableau and vanished up the hill into the deep bushes and trees. It was the wrong direction from where I left my horse, Moose, but I’d come back to get him if he didn’t come down on his own.

He was too ornery to let anyone else take him.

Swearing followed me as the spell on the nets expired, the noblemen and guards woke up, and the archer who’d tried to rob me tore off in the opposite direction. At least that was what it sounded like. I had excellent hearing and wasn’t about to risk being caught by turning around to check.

“I’ve been robbed! Follow him!” The noble’s voice was high-pitched and whiny.

I almost felt bad for the archer, but if he was as woods-smart as he’d appeared, he should have no trouble getting away. If not, then maybe he’d learn not to rob people. I chuckled. I’d need to tell Alia and Wynne my joke when I next saw them.

I thought I was far enough away from the ambush, so I slowed down. Luckily, I hadn’t pushed back my hood as a large form crashed through the shrubs behind me.

I’d forgotten about the missing half-troll guard.

I wasn’t tiny; those elven ancestors gave me height, but this guard was a good two feet taller than I.

And from the massive arms, long tusks, and heavy brow, I’d say he was more than just half-troll.

“Stay still.” The guard’s face was brutish and he looked extremely confused. “What did you do?”

He chased me, but wasn’t certain what I’d done? I might need to give some of my pilfered coins back to the nobleman so he could hire a better class of guards.

“I was coming down the path when I heard yelling, and I am now returning home. It’s dangerous for a lady to be out.” I tried to hold myself regally, but the cloak and hood made it difficult.

“With the gunk on your face? Push back yer hood.” The half-troll held a short sword, but rather ineffectively. If I charged him, there was a better than average chance I could knock it out of his hand. Of course, that would put me within his reach. He might not be used to a sword, but his arm muscles indicated he knew how to squish things. Or people.

Or feisty human-elf hybrids with a tendency toward robbery.

“This gunk, as you called it, is the newest skin treatment from the capital. It uses the power of nature to bring forth our inner beauty.” I gave a haughty sniff as I took a step away from him.

He scratched his head. “You don’t look like a noble. And you have a bow?” His forehead crashed down over his eyes. “You’re hunting.”

His slow nod prompted another two steps back by me.

“I have been out communing with the natural world. Of course, I have a bow. Would you expect a noble lady to use a sword?” Three more steps back.

“I think you needs to come with me. Now.” His face scrunched up further. Luckily, he indicated his intended direction toward me early enough that I was able to dodge and run.

My mentor, Jeliac, had always said to never fight what could be outrun. And if I couldn’t outrun a lumbering half-troll, then my elven ancestors could rise from the beyond and smite me.

I glanced around as the guard crashed along after me. I wasn’t one to believe in the afterlife or spirits, but my other foster sister, Wynne, did, and some of it must have rubbed off. I sent whatever beings were out there a request for help.

Keeping my swearing under my breath, I smiled as a clearing opened up ahead of me. A familiar one. There was an open-ended cave system on the other side of the deep grass. I could run through and be safe and settled in my front room before the troll blundered his way out.

The sound of an approaching horse at a good pace wasn’t welcome.

The archer from before cut into the clearing and lifted an impressive sword. “Get behind me! I’ll protect you!” He threw back his hood. Even more attractive than I’d originally thought, with warm brown hair drifting past his collar, hazel eyes glinting in the late afternoon sun, and dimples even a serious frown couldn’t erase. But dropping his hood wasn’t a great idea if he didn’t want to be identified by the guard he was now threatening. However, I would take any distraction at this point. Even a heroic, handsome, but not bright, one.

“Thanks, but I’m fine.” I ducked around him and his horse, but only to scramble into the cave mouth. I hadn’t been there since I was a girl, and it was narrower than I recalled. To be truthful, I doubted the half-troll guard could have made it past the entrance.

I watched as the guard charged the archer. Then I ran into the cave. The sounds of fighting faded away as I made my way through the twisty tunnels. I had a few false turns, but eventually came out on a hill overlooking the town I called home, Dialitlyn. It wasn’t much, but it was a sight to see after the events of the last few minutes. Peering out of the cave, I made sure no one was nearby, then raced out of the cave and down the hill. The borrowed spell on my hood kept it from flying back, but Wynne had warned me it wouldn’t last long. Another bit of magic on my long list of spells to learn.

I didn’t feel safe until I’d unlocked my massively oversized front door, checked for attempts of break-ins, gone inside, relocked, and spelled the door. Then I listened carefully for sounds of pursuit.

The noble and his people weren’t from Dialitlyn, so there wasn’t much fear they’d know who I was. Not to mention, neither the half-troll nor the archer had seen more than my cloak and my gloved hands.

I quickly scrubbed the spell mud from my face; it was already starting to itch. Had my hood fallen off, I still would have been almost impossible to identify with the gloopy mess on my face.

Now, to see what was in this pouch that Vuelo was willing to pay three sovereigns for me to retrieve. That was a healthy amount of gold.

I carried the pouch over to my favorite chair, ignoring the two empty ones near it, and dumped the contents out on the small table next to my chair.

It had felt like coins, but thanks to the archer, I hadn’t had time to check. I wasn’t expecting the dozen small, cut, and polished gems that tumbled out. I let out a whistle. Without even knowing what these were, they were about a hundred times more valuable than three sovereigns. What was Vuelo’s game? She was a mostly honest leader of the criminal world, or at least the edges of it in Dialitlyn and the villages nearby. I did simple, low-level jobs for a few coins. Why would she have sent me after a major haul? Vuelo had said it was a pouch of rare coins. Did I grab the wrong thing? The pouch looked as Vuelo had described it, and there had been nothing else in the nobleman’s top pocket, which was where Vuelo promised they would be.

I grabbed a writing stick to turn the gems around without touching them. Not only were gems valuable for just being themselves, but they could also be used to hold dangerous spells. The less contact, the better.

These looked as if they might have the remains of extremely faint gold jewelry settings on them. Whoever took them had been careful about making certain they were clean. Another advantage of my eleven ancestors, exceptionally good eyesight. Luckily, for me, aside from my height and slenderness, I didn’t look elvish. My ears and light green eyes were rounded and human. Not that being an elf was a bad thing, but they weren’t common in this part of the kingdom. Not to mention, my exceptional aim with a bow, which brought in much-needed prize money from time to time, would be questioned if it were known I had elven blood.

I pushed the gems around some more, but they weren’t giving me any answers. I could possibly use my low-level magic to get a response, but I’d promised Jeliac I wouldn’t try to use magic in the house until I received more training. All my life, I’d wanted to be magical, like my two foster sisters. Then, suddenly, a year ago, magic smacked me upside the head.

And I’d almost blown the roof off my second favorite pub.

Luckily, Jeliac, Alia, and Wynne had all still been in town at the time and shut me down. Alia had sleight of hand magic, low-level but enough to recognize when my magic flared to life. Same with Wynne, although her magics were from the seas. Jeliac was a former royal wizard of a distant and unnamed kingdom. He was the most concerned. He taught me some low-level magics, but admonished me not to play with magic, then vanished eight months ago.

Alia left for Tuctown four months ago, and Wynne went back to the high seas two months ago. The house Wynne, Alia, and I shared felt cold and empty now. Even more so when I’d just escaped from being captured and had some extremely odd gems to deal with.

Grumbling to myself, I used the writing stick to push the gems back into their bag. I was supposed to bring the bag and its contents to Vuelo first thing in the morning. Normally, I didn’t have a problem handing over what I lifted off unscrupulous rich travelers. Jobs for Vuelo were usually clean and easy. And allowed me to keep living in this house. Plus, helping out the orphans in the Fae Workhouse with donations made me feel good. Anonymously, of course.

I washed my face again, the spell mud still felt as if it was lingering, changed my clothes, and had a nice stew simmering when a sharp knock rattled the front door.

It was full night now. Proper people wouldn’t be calling. Dialitlyn was a relatively safe town, but still, chances shouldn’t be taken. I grabbed one of my daggers and kept it behind the door as I cracked it open. Jeliac had been after us for years to get a spyhole installed. I now regretted that we had ignored him.

I had a magically powered torch outside my house, one Jeliac had installed to come on at dark, so I could see the face of the person facing me as I cracked open the door.

I almost slammed the door in his face. “What do you want, Xial?” Vuelo was mostly upstanding. Many of the people working for her were not. Xial was one whom I would count myself lucky if he died a sudden and horrific death.

The scar running down his face from eye to chin, and a second, fainter one across his throat, pointed out that I wasn’t the only one to feel that way.

Unfortunately, nothing had killed him yet.

He shoved his way into the room. I was fast, but he’d taken some sort of spell-drug as he not only shoved me back, but he shut and locked the door before I could get my dagger up. He also pulled out a nasty-looking short sword. “I’ll take the bag Vuelo sent you after. You can give it to me, or die, and I'll take it anyway.”

PREORDER

Mischief in a Bottle--chapter one!

 This is the first book in a new series. Coming out Oct 22-- on preorder now!

                                                               Mischief in a Bottle

Chapter One

 

 

I knew this wouldn’t be a good day when a goat stood bleating at me from the foot of my bed.

And it wasn’t my goat.

Rolling over and ignoring it seemed the best option until Lucie, the orange cat menace, ran across my bed, jumped to the headboard, tail in full puff mode, and hissed at the goat.

If I had access to my magic, I could have sent both of them out into the barn where they could sort out their issues and leave me in peace. Unfortunately, being a paroled jinn trapped on the backwater planet called Earth meant that wasn’t an option.

Of course, the humans of this planet were clueless about being a halfway house for paroled criminals. Nor did they know of the hundred worlds, loosely grouped as the Eltrisphere, hidden far beyond their solar system. Earth was only a joke to the advanced peoples of the Universe, and Earthlings weren’t in on the punchline.

“Lucie, what is that goat doing here?” I had a goat. Actually, I had a goat assigned to me. At this time in the morning, Tiberius was probably still passed out in the living room, drooling into the carpet, and not appearing at all goat-like.

Tiberius was also a jinn, a different line than mine, though. He didn’t have magic at all.

Tiberius was a former centurion and the one who’d brought me in for a crime I don’t think I’d been involved with. There were complications after my hundred-year stay in my bottle imprisonment for said crime, and I was given probation on Earth to prove I was now a functioning member of society. Tiberius was sent down with me to keep me on the straight and narrow. Or to spy on me. That possibility was still in my head.

Here on Earth, I looked just as I did normally, tall, slender, with long, black hair and green eyes. My skin was a dusky tan, so I said my people were from some place called India. Long ago.

In real life, Tiberius was about seven feet tall, broad-shouldered, blue, and had a massive wingspan. Those attributes only appeared now when he was asleep. Otherwise, he was a talking goat. Who fainted when he got startled.

He hated when Lucie or I pointed it out.

The goat at the end of my bed gave a soft bleat, folded its legs, and settled in for a staring contest.

“Seriously, Lucie. Take your friend outside.” A glance at the clock informed me I still had fifteen minutes before I had to get out of bed. I planned on keeping all of them.

The large orange cat hissed once more—which the goat ignored—but stayed on the bookcase, which doubled as my headboard. “That’s not my friend. None of them are. Get up and shove them out!” Lucie had been a companion of the jinn who’d sent me into lockup for crimes he’d pulled off. The creep had also been my late and unlamented ex-boyfriend. Lucie helped me resolve a few problems when I first came here, and as he wasn’t a normal Earth cat, he decided to stay with us.

I started to roll over when his words caught up with my attempt at dozing. “Wait, them?” That got me up. “There are more?”

“Yes.” Lucie flapped his tail. “At least seven more. There might be more outside. I came in here to get away from them.”

I was in my robe and slippers in a flash. Tiberius might look like a goat, but he wasn’t one. I didn’t need a flock of real goats eating my furniture.

The goat on my bed looked up as I ran out the bedroom door, but then snuggled back into the blankets.

I’d deal with it later.

The snores from the far corner told me Tiberius hadn’t noticed his admirers. But they had noticed him. Not a single piece of furniture had become goat food. Not even the crocheted throw blanket Martha made me, which covered the back of my sofa.

But seven smallish goats were watching Tiberius with complete adoration. Even though from the massive blue foot sticking up in the air, he wasn’t currently in goat form.

I quickly shut the front door in case there were more coming. How it got open would be a question for Lucie. He’d stayed out last night, doing whatever he did. I told him I could have a cat door built that would let him come and go as he pleased. But he insisted on using his lock-picking skills.  When he felt like it. Mostly, he scratched and meowed to make me open the door for him.

He hadn’t shut the door behind him, and whatever he’d been doing, it had involved a herd of goats.

“Okay, this isn’t good. Not today.” I ran my hand through my mass of unbound dark hair. It had a mind of its own, so I usually kept it in a ponytail of some sort, even in bed. I’d been so exhausted last night prepping for the grand opening of my tea and spice shop that I’d let it go free. “Tiberius, get up. Slowly.” The goats around him didn’t look violent, but who knew what would happen when he transformed.

No movement from the blue foot.

“Centurion Tiberius, get up now!” I deepened my voice and shouted loud enough to make the goat from my bedroom come out to investigate.

The massive blue foot dropped, there was some muttering, and then a large goat with impressive horns appeared wearing a blanket. He blinked at the smaller goats watching him, then at me, then back at them.

“Why are they staring at me? And why are they in our house? That’s not sanitary.”

I ignored the fact that he was a goat and spent most of his time inside. His glitching back into his real form when asleep meant sleeping in the barn or outside was off-limits once night fell. “I have no idea. Lucie came running in with them.”

“I did not! They followed me. I couldn’t shut the door in time.” Lucie came into the living room with his tail twitching furiously. He ignored the goats and jumped on the kitchen counter.

I’d tried to convince him the counter wasn’t a good place for a cat to be—he ignored me. But the way the goats turned to look at him made me think it might be okay this time. The one formerly in my room hadn’t reacted to Lucie much. But these other seven were looking at him like he was goat food on the paw.

I knew goats were fairly open about their eating preferences, but I didn’t think it extended to cats. Most likely, he’d annoyed them somehow. It was one of his skills.

Tiberius stalked through the goats to go to Lucie’s counter. “What. Did. You. Do?”

Lucie’s tail lashed so quickly that it looked like it was about to fly off. His eyes narrowed, and he gave a hiss-growl that I’d never heard. Even from the local cats.

“I did nothing. I was making my rounds, checking out the town, as I do. These followed me. Center of town, just a herd of goats out for a stroll in the middle of the night.”

One of the goats came alongside Tiberius and leaned into him. He gave an alarmingly goat-sounding bleat and scrambled away.

“They like you.” I pulled back the curtain across the front window. Yep, a few more goats were milling about in the yard. “Someone has to be missing them. Goats aren’t wild in Northern California.” I was pretty sure there were few areas in this part of the world where they were wild, but as I was restricted to twenty miles outside of the borders of Forgotten Hollow, I wasn’t planning on being here long enough to find out.

“They need to go outside.” Tiberius stomped to the door and waited for me to open it. Unlike Lucie, his hooves weren’t good for opening doors. I would have said cat paws weren’t much better, but I had a feeling Lucie had skills he wasn’t sharing with us. He and I were both magic users, but our nice silver jewelry—two thin bands on my wrists and a matching collar of an odd, flexible silver on Lucie’s neck meant we weren’t casting spells.

Tiberius didn’t have magic, but he got a collar as well. Supposedly, all of them blocked other magic users from using magic against us.

Magic users who shouldn’t be on this planet unless they were parolees as well. All of the parolees on this planet were kept far away from each other.  Like one per continent.

I was just reaching for the door handle, the goats had lined up behind Tiberius, when a sharp knock rattled my door.

I clutched my robe tighter and peered out the side window. At first, I thought it might be Jack Lanclin, my local cop friend. He’d been the first one to find me when Tiberius and I had been dumped here. He’d also helped out when some dead bodies showed up two months ago.

I hadn’t seen him much since then. Sadly.

To be fair, I’d been working on getting my teahouse, The Fainting Goat Tea and Spice, built and ready to open. But he could have stopped by just to visit. Honestly, it was almost as if he was avoiding me.

The man on my stoop wasn’t Jack. His hair was blond and his profile was kind.

Just from what I could see, he was what my friends Betsy, Jamie, and Martha would have called a hottie.

And I was here with a bathrobe, wild hair, and a herd of goats. Jinn ranged from the more exotic, like Tiberius with his massive size, wings, and blue skin, to more human-looking, like me. My darker skin and wide green eyes did make me a little exotic-looking, but I could easily pass for a human without a spell.

The man knocked again. I couldn’t take the time to change, nor could I hide the goats. With a sigh, I opened the door a few inches.

“Yes?”

“Hello, I’m Camfield. My goats appear to have wandered into your yard.” His accent was delightful. From my late-night TV binging, I recognized it as from somewhere in Britain. I would have known if someone like him had moved into town.

No matter how caught up I was in getting The Fainting Goat up and running.

One of the goats behind me bleated, and I opened the door further. “A few of them came inside as well.” I didn’t want this handsome, amazing-sounding man to think I was trying to steal his goats. “I have a goat with health issues. He comes inside sometimes, and I think they followed him. I woke up to find them here.”

Tiberius narrowed his eyes at me but then led the goats out past Camfield.

“That is an impressive buck. No wonder my girls followed him.” He laughed as Tiberius trotted toward the barn and all of Camfield’s goats trailed after him. “I’m new to farm life, but never heard of a goat living inside a house.”

“He has serious health issues, rare ones. It’s better to give him his medicine inside. And he faints.”

“Ah! I’ve heard of those. Are you interested in selling him? I could use a buck like him with my herd.”

I swore I heard Lucie muttering behind me, but it was low enough so Camfield didn’t respond. “I couldn’t. He was left to me by my favorite great-uncle when he passed. Part of the family.” Jinn couldn’t lie if they knew the truth; it would literally make us choke, but we were great at crafting tales. The line was extremely thin, but one I fought to hold.

My official story concerning Tiberius was although my great-uncle did leave him to me, he was also the only good thing I got in an ugly divorce. As long as I kept my stories straight, I should be okay from choking.

He nodded. “I understand. Fainting goat, you wouldn’t be Ceian, the owner of the new teahouse, The Fainting Goat?”

“I am. We even built him a pen alongside it. Namesake and all.” I shoved my mass of hair aside and tried my most winsome smile.

Camfield sighed and looked back toward the barn. “It’s been wonderful making your acquaintance. I apologize for any issues my goats caused you. But I should get them back to my yard.”

“Anytime.” I flustered. “I mean, they weren’t any trouble at all.” That time, I knew I heard Lucie muttering swear words. They weren’t in any human language, luckily.

Camfield flashed a stunning smile, gave a nod, and followed Tiberius and the goats to my barn.

I took a step to follow them, but Lucie dropped down and rubbed my legs. It wasn’t affection; he was pointing out my current attire.

I watched Camfield vanish into the barn with a sigh, then shut the door.

Sulking at my lack of a wonderful first impression, I went to the kitchen, started warming up the kettle, and brought some eggs out of the fridge.

Lucie resumed his spot on the counter. “You have a crush. I thought you liked the cop?”

I tried ignoring the cat, but I knew it was pointless.

“Detective Jack Lanclin, his name is Jack. And I don’t like him. He was interesting when we first arrived here and helpful in getting us through that mess. If I went to jail, you’d be on the streets. But he has other things to deal with besides me.” I crammed tea leaves into my loose-leaf strainer. Probably more than required, but I felt a need for a lot of caffeine this morning. Things weren’t off to a great start. “Camfield is just a nice man who isn’t blaming me for you leading off his goats.”

A knock at my door brought me stumbling to answer. Maybe Camfield had something else to mention. I tried fixing my hair, but it was still a massive pile. Nonetheless, I put on my best smile as I opened the door.

To find three little old ladies staring past my barn. Betsy had her hand up to knock again, and I coughed before she could finish the movement and hit me in the chest.

“Oh! Sorry, Ceian. Just got distracted. That Camfield is quite the looker. He’s already calling on you?” She grinned as I stepped back to invite the three in.

They were my only friends in Forgotten Hollow. People were nice, but they seemed to avoid getting too close to me because of the dead bodies that had been found around me when I first arrived.

Not to mention, I’d been told they could take years to warm up to a newcomer. I was hoping that my parole down here wouldn’t last that long.

Martha and Jamie followed Betsy in, and all three stopped to say hello to Lucie and give him the required pettings. He purred, rubbed against their hands, and then darted out the door before I could shut it.

“Stay out of trouble.” I kept my voice light, but he needed to be more aware of what was around him.

“What brings you over this morning?” Without asking, I poured everyone tea and added some cookies. The ladies often dropped by, but rarely this early.

“There’s been a murder!” Betsy’s bright blue eyes were round as she beat the other two to the punch.

#IWSG-- What scares you?

 Welcome to the Insecure Writer’s Support Group blog hop! .

Once a month writers gather online to share, cheer, and lament this writing world we’re in. It's the most amazing and terrifying place to be!

Join us!

There's often a question (optional) with this adventure and the one this month was interesting.

 

What's your favorite classic ghostly tale?

 

Ummm, unless they're funny ghosts, I don't have one.

I'm not a big scary, ghost person. Fast and funny is more me.

But, this did make me think about what story scared me. Waaaaay back in the dark ages, teachers liked to make kids read scary, dark, or depressing stories (That was my view).

 I still recall one that I read an insanely long time ago. No idea about the title, and it was a flash fiction--as in two pages maybe?

 It was a woman talking about being home alone and that her husband always called her paranoid. She's making comments as she goes through the house checking things.

 Then she came to an outer door that she'd locked that was now wide op--. 

 Yup. It ended right there.

 It freaked me out! Obviously made an impact since over 40 years later it still sticks in my mind.

 As a writer, I admire that power. Such a simple story with a simple gotcha. I would love to have that ability--in my own fashion. I may blow things up in my books sometimes (okay, a lot) but the closeness of that story, the impact of the ultimate cliffhanger ending....dang.

 It was very impressive.

 So, since I've diverged, what's a scary story that made an impact on you?

Happy IWSG day!

Bonus points if you know the short story I mentioned!

 

#IWSG Listening to others

  Welcome to the Insecure Writer’s Support Group blog hop! Can’t speak for the others, but yup—insecurity is my middle name sometimes 😉.

Once a month writers gather online to share, cheer, and lament this writing world we’re in.

Join us!!!

IWSG

Today is sort of related to this months question about what we learned in school that messed us up as writers.

For some of us *cough cough* school was a loooong time ago. So instead I thought I'd ramble on about listening to others on this writing journey.

1) DO it! Read, listen, etc.

2) DON'T follow it!

Thank you for coming to my TED talk  ;).

Okay, there is way more to it than that. 

The trick is to be open to learning--all the time.  Educationally, I've taken far more courses than were needed for my Master's degree...because I liked learning. 

Writingwise, I've been writing for a VERY long time, and publishing since 2015.

And there are still so many things out there to learn!

When you're new or not so new, learning new things in your field can seem overwhelming. And often contradictory. Because most people are telling you what worked for them. Nothing that worked for them might work for you. Or some of it. Or all of it.

The trick is to really figure out who you are. And don't be afraid to test! I'm a serious pantser, but a few years ago thought that plotting might work for me.

Nopity. Still have that mess sitting around somewhere. I love the story, just will need to rewrite a LOT.

Does that mean that all plotters are wrong? Not at all!  It means it's not right for ME.

So go out with an open mind, but then really examine the information you find.

Any things that you tried that flopped?  Or that you thought would flop and succeeded?

Happy IWSG day!

Chapter One--Keeper's Tempest Book Three in the Code of the Keepers space opera-coming fall 2024

 If you haven't read the first two in this trilogy, you might want to turn around now  ;).  

Also--this is hasn't gone through final edits ;). And the odd space between paragrapghs is a Blogger thing, not mine.

  

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

Vas froze as Terel and Pela raced off the bridge with an unconscious Deven on their gurney. The voice that Vas just heard had been a disturbing combination of the Deven she knew and one of the Devens he’d become when he came back from dying and had been in three bodies a year ago.

It was the worst of the three—the asshole pirate.

She forced that issue aside for the moment. She wasn’t certain what she’d heard—aside from the voice of a dead Pirate of Boagada saying that even though Deven had been the Clionea nuns’ Pirate before, he was tagged to be it again.

Something supposedly impossible.

He’d also said that Deven would save or doom everyone. Then Deven channeled the jerk pirate persona he’d had when he came back from the dead.

Mac jumped the Destroyer’s Curse through a dozen gates as they escaped the Nhali mining world as it blew up. Vas finally told him to stop, but this system looked too busy for her liking. She didn’t enjoy thinking of hiding and licking their wounds, especially after a fight they mostly won. But that was what they needed now. Too many things had gone on lately, and the issue with Deven could be catastrophic.

“Mac, find us another less busy system. We have no idea if the Nhali can connect us to that planet, but if they can, they will blame us for it blowing up.” Never mind that the Nhali had been digging up a converted planet left behind by the Asarlaí thousands of years ago. An extremely unstable and dangerous planet.

Mac nodded and blasted them back through the gate. He went through two systems, slowly, before Vas agreed to a location. No signs of advanced technology. And the only planets were far from the gate.

“Good work. Gosta, Hrrru, find us a place to hide. I’ll be in the med bay.” Vas was proud of not racing after Deven immediately. But they were now in a safer spot and she trusted Gosta and Hrrru to find a place to settle and hide.

She needed to know who was in Deven’s head. If it was that jerk pirate, she’d lock him up immediately.

“He’ll be okay.” Aithnea’s voice coming out of her comm as she jogged down the corridors wasn’t as soothing as it might have been if she wasn’t dead.

“That pirate. I heard that pirate’s voice.”

Aithnea hadn’t been around when Deven reappeared after being blown apart. But she’d read and listened to the files. “He was seriously injured that could be behind it,” Aithnea sounded too soothing. She was the mother superior of the dead group of Clionea nuns, but they were warrior nuns. Soothing usually wasn’t high on her list of descriptives. Even when she’d been alive.

Vas slowed a little as she went down the corridor to the med bay. If Aithnea knew something, she needed to know before she went to see him.

“What do you know? You heard that he’s our new Pirate of Boagada, is this something because of that?”

The Pirate of Boagada wasn’t a member of the Clionea nuns—at least not a regular one. The nuns were a female order, but the Pirate could be any gender. They served for a year or two doing things in concert with the nuns. Oftentimes they worked around the nuns' stricter agendas. 

Then they had their memories wiped out—something they agreed to before accepting the position.

“Yes. And while that did sound like Tilthias, the last Pirate of Boagada, it might not have been. No one has held the position twice.” Her voice dropped and seemed to be talking to herself. “At least any that survived.”

Vas was almost to the outer med bay doors when Aithnea muttered that. She stopped and glared down at her comm. “What did you just say? Rather, what did you mean by what you just said?” As far as Vas had been told there had never been someone to hold the position twice. But the nuns weren’t around lying if they felt it was necessary.

“You shouldn’t have heard that. It’s our fault, you’re coming into some Keeper skills I didn’t think would be there yet.”

She went silent and Vas was ready to find a way to drag Aithnea out of the comm by force by the time she spoke again.

“There were two times that circumstances required replication of holding the position. They both died. I can give you the boring details now, or you can check on Deven.” There was a level of sameness to her words. A balanced and non-emotional way of speaking that Vas remembered from when she was taken in by the Clionea nuns when she first escaped her home world as a kid.

It never boded well.

“After this, you, me, Jasiel, and Nitya are talking.” Vas ignored any further responses and pushed open the med bay doors. Deven, Terel, and Pela were nowhere to be seen. Divee was monitoring the new bio-bed and the unconscious Kantari prisoner inside. He jumped to his feet as Vas raced in.

“Captain!” He was startled but both snub blasters remained in his hands.

“Where is Deven?”

“Terel and Pela are with him in the decon room. She didn’t tell me why, but she has a full contagion warning lockdown on them.”

Vas ran down the way he pointed. The Destroyer’s Curse was a new ship to her—well new enough and she’d been so busy that she hadn’t fully explored the massive thing. The back of the med bay was huge and contained more rooms than hopefully they’d ever need.

She rounded a corner and found one room with enough warnings splashed across it that no one would be crazy enough to enter.

Aside from Vas.

She used her palm to override the warning code and entered a clean room decon area. The system checked her, and then she knocked on the inner doors.

Terel and her assistant Pela were in decon suits and Terel pointed to more of them hanging inside the decon area. It wasn’t clear whether she was afraid that Deven might be contagious—or if he was the one in danger.

Vas scrambled into the suit and was just sealing the helmet when the doors whooshed open.

“Terel, what the hell is wrong?” She’d barely stepped past the doors as they shut.

“I don’t know. We almost lost him coming down here. Three times. I didn’t have a chance to call you. We’ve been resuscitating him.”

Vas looked down at Deven. He was even paler than he’d been on the bridge, but she couldn’t see any external injuries. “Did something get inside him on that planet?”

“It might have?” Pela glared at the screens she was monitoring. “Whatever is going on, it’s seriously messing with our ability to scan him.”

Vas watched as the two furiously fought to save him—from whatever was killing him.

“Damn it, Aithnea said that people who’d been the Pirate of Boagada twice died—could that be it? He was declared to be the next one on the command deck.”

“We need those damn nuns in here, now.” Terel looked ready to snap something at the mention of the nuns.

“I’m here,” Aithnea’s voice came from one of the speakers. “And Jasiel is on her way down. Nitya is having some issues with the ship; we didn’t escape unscathed. But, I don’t believe this has to do with that. Bluntly, the two Pirates of Boagada died after they’d completed their tasks. And yes, in both cases, they were aware it might happen. I’m not getting much from Deven’s mind, it’s too unstable right now. I don’t think Tilthias’ announcement caused this.”

“Keep trying to reach him.” Terel settled down a bit, but she didn’t seem convinced that the nuns weren’t at least partially responsible.

A ringing sound came from outside of the decon clean room behind them. Pela hit a button and Jasiel ran inside and quickly put on a suit.

Even though she was over eight hundred years old, Jasiel looked to be an extremely fit woman in her sixties. Unlike Aithnea and most of the Clionea nuns, who almost all kept their hair cropped, she kept her gray hair long but coiled atop her head.

She was the founder of the most recent incarnation of the Clionea nuns and the only nun still living. For now.

“What’s happened?” Jasiel winced and shook her head as she came into the room. “And what is that horrific sound? How can you stand it?” She’d started to approach Deven, but stopped and took a step back to the doors.

“What sound?” Vas always had good hearing, and since her Keeper training it had improved. But aside from the low-level sounds of the machines fighting to keep Deven alive, there wasn’t anything that would cause that reaction.

“A high-pitched…oh.” Jasiel grabbed her helmet and collapsed.

“Pick her up, get her on a table,” Aithnea said. “I’ll try and find what she was talking about. For the record, I’m not sensing anything. But being disembodied does have its limits.”

Vas and Pela lifted Jasiel onto a bed and Pela scanned her.

“She reads fine. Simply unconscious. Without a reason.” Pela narrowed her eyes and looked between Jasiel and Deven. “She’s not in danger of dying like he is, but could these two be connected?”

Terel glanced up from Deven. “That would probably be a question for Aithnea. Well? Did the nuns have disorders we need to know about?”

“No. We were possibly the healthiest people in the Commonwealth. But there’s something between the two of them. I still can’t hear anything that would have caused Jasiel to collapse, but there’s a strange vibration between her and Deven. Vas, can you roll Jasiel’s cot to the far end of the room?”

Vas looked to Terel but at her shrug went ahead and rolled Jasiel against the far wall.

“She’s twitching.” Vas stepped within Jasiel’s eyesight and gently shook her arm. “Jasiel? Are you awake?”

“Yes. But wishing I wasn’t.” Her eyes didn’t open but her face was lined in pain that was visible even through the faceplate of the decon helmet. “What crushed my skull?”

“You reacted to a sound and collapsed,” Aithnea’s voice now came out of a closer speaker. “Not terribly gracefully, however.”

“A sound?” Jasiel cracked open her eyes. “Oh, gods my head.”

Pela came over and gave her a shot, then ran back to Deven.

“Better. Thank you.” Her face still showed pain, but she opened her eyes. “Let me guess, no one else heard it?”

“No. Do you know what it was?” Vas was already returning to Deven’s side.

“I might. Tilthias could have passed something on to Deven. And Vas. Until this is sorted, I’ll keep my mental shields up.” She didn’t make a move to get up from the cot yet.

Vas wanted to touch Deven but unless she took off her suit she couldn’t. He was still pale but appeared to be twitching now. She had no idea if that was good or not. “Tilthias shared thoughts with me in the cave where his body was buried. Or rather, his spirit did. I felt them but haven’t been able to go through them. Maybe that’s it?”

Jasiel slowly got off the cot. Whatever shields she put up, they must have worked as she came next to Deven and peered closely at his face. “It shouldn’t have caused a problem, but then all of those memories should have gone directly to Deven as the next Pirate. Not to the Keeper. I’d say his spirit had no choice. Aithnea and I need to sort this out. After we stabilize Deven.”

“Which is what we’ve been trying to do.” Terel waved at the monitors. “Any idea how to do that? Something is trying to kill him and I can’t find it, let alone stop it.”

Jasiel turned to Vas. “I wasn’t on deck, but you said you heard an odd voice come from him right before he collapsed?”

Vas gave her a brief rundown of Deven dying and then coming back as three people over a year ago.

Jasiel gave a low whistle. “No wonder he was chosen again. There’s a lot of mojo in him that I’ve never even heard of before. He’s Kilesh, right? They are known for being strong espers, and have hearty recovery systems—but that’s beyond anything from any species.”

Vas shrugged. “Marli said that something in him had changed. She had scans of him from years ago that didn’t match the ones she read a year ago.” She frowned. “And that was before the dead and back as three situation.”

“The Asarlaí woman who helped in your prior battle? It’s sad that she was lost for many reasons.” Jasiel nodded as she continued to study Deven’s face.

“I doubt we’d be alive now if she hadn’t done what she did. But I agree. We do have access to her secret home though.” Vas shook her head. “Aside from the fact it’s in the Commonwealth. Damn, for a moment I forgot that we still can’t get through there.”

Deven started twitching more and Terel came with more sedatives.

“Wait.” Jasiel held her hand up and looked closer at Deven’s face. “He’s trying to come back. I believe those twitches aren’t random.”

“Let me try something,” Aithnea said then went silent.

The twitching turned to spasms.

“Oh no you don’t. Knock this off now!” Aithnea’s voice echoed through the room. And inside Vas’ head.

“This is mine.” The words were good to hear, but the voice wasn’t. His green eyes were almost black now.

“It’s that damn pirate.” Vas looked around. “Not the Pirate of Boagada. The other one.”

Terel nodded. “That’s him all right. Have we lost our Deven?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Jasiel rubbed her hands together—which wasn’t as effective as the suit had gloves—but then she put both hands on Deven and pressed down.

“You can’t do this!” The voice coming out of Deven shifted. “This body is mine!”

“It was never yours, go back to whatever spawned you!”

In her Keeper training, Vas had learned that the higher-level nuns had almost magic-like powers. Or at least ones that couldn’t be explained in an easy-to-understand manner. That was what she felt at that moment. A powerful fight was going on between Jasiel, Aithnea, Deven, and that pirate.

Just not one she could see.