Novels

 Dwarves In Space

Thousands of years after the jewelry's destroyed, the sword reforged, the dragon ridden, and the indecipherable prophecy translated into a recipe for sugared biscuits, the dwarves turned to that final frontier: space. And along came the elves, orcs, gnomes, trolls, ogres, and those vermin-like upstarts, humans.

Dwarves in Space is Tolkien merged with Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy in a horrific transporter accident.

The Elation-Cru is not the flashiest ship, nor the newest, or even has all of its bolts attached; but she can fly. Well, sort of wade through space, and that's when all the parts are working. She supports a sugar addicted dwarven pilot, an elven engineer, an orcish doctor, a silent djinn, and the lone human trying to hold the entire thing together with duct tape. Variel, the captain, has been hiding from a secret for the past five years and time's finally run out.

When she goes against her common sense and fights to save her onboard assassin/renter from a job gone sour, she finds herself before an ex-colleague that knew her in her previous life as the Knight of the realm. The entire ship is sent on a mad dash across the universe -- from a decaying space station, home to the wackiest species the galaxy has to offer, down to the Orc homeworld, which wouldn't be so bad if Variel hadn't spent most of her previous life fighting in the war against them. Chances of survival are nil and slipping fast.

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The King's Blood
 available at amazon for $3.99

Save the Prince, save the world. Maybe stop for coffee.

Magic is coming back. Or so say the old prophesies cobbled together from wandering soothsayers, women huffing broken gas lines, and the back of comic tomes. The Evil Empire™ of Avar and its perfectly sane, in no way crazy Emperor risks others' life and limb to stop it from coming to pass.

The only obstinate chunk of gravel in their shoes is a small kingdom warring against the over confident reach of the growing Empire. The fight was going well for them, all things considered, right until their King went and let his head slip right off his shoulders.

Now Ciara, a black servant into her sixteenth year, finds herself on a mad quest across the countryside trying to get the second son and possibly only hope of the severed Ostero line back onto his throne. Along the way, she and Aldrin — the rather simple and OH GODS KEEP HIM AWAY FROM ANYTHING SHARP prince — find themselves at the mercy of assassins, witches, traveling historians, a sect of killer doctors, and the unblinkers.

Can two teens survive an entire Empire crashing down upon them while a shambling army of corpses waits patiently in the shadows? Will the religious fight for and against magic rip apart the world they all became rather fond of? And just how can a fifteen year old take over a throne dangling precariously over the edge of war?





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It's a microcosm tale incorporating the never ending play of age against youth, how past and historical significance wanes with time, and the challenges of fighting for your place in it all.

Or an excuse to rag on elves for 400 or so pages.

Take your pick.


Life was going pretty well for Cas, goblins tended to stay dead after getting run through with a sword and her partner in crime - Hum, the Giant of whatever place he chose for that week - was still vertical.

But that all changed one day in an inn (because by narrative law your life can never change while enjoying a picnic by the lake or searching for pebbles) when a cowled figure entered her life and bonked it good.

Now she's stuck leading a pack of elves, and one ass, through a maze of forest determined to keep them from their goal; which she'd happily tell you about as soon as she figures it out herself.



          Tin Hero

 Authored by Sabrina Zbasnik

 
In the tales of adventurers and heroes everyone knows the farm boy, on his quest to slay the Ogre/Dragon/Nosy neighbor who really shouldn't be poking around in the azaleas with his camera must enlist the tutelage of a wise benevolent master.

But sometimes the old narrative gets a bit crossed and the farm boy is actually the misbegotten son of a blacksmith and the benevolent master is a retired woman who'd rather face down a rather peckish horde of brain eaters than teach an idiot how to properly wave a sword before heroically soiling his drawers. Funny how they never mentioned that part in the tales.

Somewhere between the stuff of legends and the legends of stuff lies the actual muddy, humorous and gory truth.


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