A YA novella… with werewolves!

I’m thrilled to be able to share some good news since this week has been pretty terrible for a lot of people. My novella, The She-Wolf of Kanta, has been picked up for Radiant Crown Publishing’s Legion imprint!

Commence the happy dancing!

Not only will it be available in ebook and eventually print formats, but it will also be published as an audiobook.

I’m really loving how much RCP is letting me involved in the process too. It’s been a real treat to work with them so far, and I’m looking forward to moving forward! This will be the first book that will be published in print and only have my name on it. This will be the first book that will be on audio!

Okay, I’m done flailing – for now! Don’t worry, I’ll post more updates as I go, including a cover reveal soon. šŸ˜‰

Drabble: Siblings

Prompt: Siblings

My dearest sister, how I miss you these days. We may not share a blood bond, but our bond was just as true. Remember when we went into the woods and built a fort? That became our hideaway for a full week when the village blamed us for their ten dead cattle. At the first sign of disease, they blamed those with powers they didn’t understand. You were always a clever builder, sister.

We went to the lake once and summoned forth the monsters that slept beneath the still waters. More than just fish answered us that day, and we learned about the neighbors we never knew we had. We gave each other the strength to face those dark, shadowy creatures; we gave each other the strength not to look away. We punished our enemies that day, sister, but we should have killed them.

Then we were accepted into the sisterhood and took the marks. Every time I look at my arm, every time I feel the puffy scar across my skin, I think of you. I think of us huddled together in those woods, I think of us standing in determination before that lake, and I remember the people who took you away.

I don’t know if you’re alive or not still, sister, but I will find you and I will punish your captors. If they have you bound, I will free you. If they have killed you, I swear, I will find a way to bring you back. Even if I must make a foul pact with some untrustworthy wretch, you will be at my side again.

Our friendship can’t be parted by death. We are a sisterhood that can’t be broken. Fear not, little sister, for I am coming for you. May our enemies quake in terror.


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Originally posted on Typetrigger. Fiction in 300 words or less. Please pardon typos or grammatical errors. See sidebar for copyright information.


Drabble: Over the wall

Prompt: Over the wall

Even if you stand on your tip-toes, you’ll never be able to look over that wall. It’s lived too long, known too many other nosy children to topple down just for you. On the other side you can hear voices: the clinking of glasses, a woman’s laughter, the lilting tune of a clarinet. You can just imagine the fun they’re having.

It takes a long while to find an opening. It was hidden behind a set of bushes that had grown together so much that they looked like one enormous bird’s nest. You’re small though and you slip through their gnarled branches with ease.

The light blinds you. This side of the wall looks very different from the other. There are no trees here, and the concrete patio is as white as a river bed. You hear the woman’s laughter again and spot her walking up to you in a vibrant crimson dress and wide brimmed hat.

“Well, it’s about time,” she says.

You turn around, suddenly anxious to return to your woods, but just as you’re about to reach the gap, a net ensnares you. Up you go into the air, your struggles fruitless. The woman holds her hat in the wind and scrutinizes you.

“She’s a scrawny one.”

The spidery man, who holds you so high up, grunts an agreement, then pulls you out by your foot. You’re held upside-down while the woman continues to poke and prod you, a frown on her lips.

“It’s early yet,” he says. “I’m sure others will come.”

She shakes her head. “Children used to be easy to catch. What in the world will we feed our guests if they’re all so skinny?”

“We should try another town,” he says and drops you into a satchel. “This one’s about dried up.”

Originally posted on Typetrigger. Fiction in 300 words or less.
Please pardon typos or grammatical errors. See sidebar for copyright information.