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Shadows Fall Masterpost


I put up the first part of Shadows Fall in Halloween of 2015. It got longer. For now, these links are going to the Tumblr posts, but I'll probably crosspost full chapters here at some point in the future.

As a special event, Chapter Two is going up, one section per day, over the 2016 Halloween Weekend. Also, be sure to check out my tumblr for random build and play pictures.

Chapter One:
Part One * Part Two * Part Three

Chapter Two:
Part One * Part Two * Part Three

Chapter Three:
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New Year's resolutions.

... Yes, I finally finished Switchpoint. No doubt I shall spend a considerable amount of time later in the year being not-finished with it.

Upcoming projects for the year:
- I do have another novel waiting in the wings. Some of you may have heard something about the premise: It revolves around the police officers of a fairy-tale world, dealing with accidental transformations, too many magical artifacts, seventh sons of seventh sons, and more idiotic youngest princes and princesses on quests than you can shake a stick at.
- Possibly some sci-fi. I never got around to finishing editing the short story formerly known as Body of the Week, (Currently pretending it's named Doors Nowhere) largely because work got busy. But I do have some fun soft-boiled sci-fi with aliens to do.
- I have a couple potential shorts brewing in Allie and Lindsay's universe. I'll get dragged back in eventually.

Other stuff:
Mostly working on strengthening my feet. (I say, as I sit and stare at my once-more-swollen ankle.)

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First Lines Meme!

List the first lines of your last ten stories. See if there are any patterns.

Erm... last five worked on? I've been editing Switchpoint forever, to the point where I may be able to start NaNo some time in December...

1) “Thanks for dinner, Mrs. Ramaswami!” said Azalea, as they all stood outside the door, “it was delicious.” (Shadows Fall, the haloween sims short story that will have pictures soon if my game ever loads.)

2) We appeared out of nowhere in the middle of a slowly darkening field. (Switchpoint.)

3) There is a door in the wall down near the edge of the subway tunnel, leading away into the dark. (Doors to Nowhere.)

4) Eight made it to his desk in the lower hall only sixteen minutes late and slightly damp, and blushed furiously when his deskmate Ila looked up at him and rolled her eyes. (working title is "Pieces of Eight")

5) Date: November 17, eighteenth year post Transversum. (Fines Iustificare, which will, chronologically speaking, be the next Elven Heritage Legacy Interlude.)

... I'm sorry about that last one, but spoilers! And it should be out by some time in November since I'm not doing NaNo anyway. (I already have about 1/3 of the pictures...)
 
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The Elven Heritage Legacy chapter 14: Senioritis

Aaaah cover art!

http://www.slideshare.net/ScribalGoddess/114-ehl-14-senioritis

In which College happens, Lydia investigates, and Nymea demonstrates that she is just as awful as her parents.

WTF is an embed, Slideshare? Do you even know? Why are you so goddamn unfriendly? WTF is your fascination with linkedin why are you such a butt trying to make me give my location...

If you find any Slideshare problems, please point them out! This is honestly probably the last slideshared chapter, I can't be having with leaving for 9 months and then them overhauling the whole site...

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Out, damned Polka-Dot! (Flash Fiction From Hell)

... No, this is not Short Story September's promised story. (I'll be sitting on that and submitting it places.)

This is what happens with this tumblr prompt and the fact that I spent Saturday Night helping my mom go through old photo albums from the 70's.

(No cut because if you're too young for one swear, go play outside.)

***

Out, Damned Polka-Dot!

“Out, Damned Spot!” said Lady Macbeth, furiously scrubbing the bloodstains on her favorite teal and red bandanna-print top. “Out, I say!”

Frustrated, she tossed down the shirt and flung open her closet, and began counting her ruined items of clothing. “One, Two… Why then, now’s the time to do it. Hell is murky!” She seized a brown velour pantsuit off its hanger and threw it to the ground. “Fie, my lord, fie! A soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account?” Sequined mauve bellbottoms were tossed away in a fit of pique, before seizing the next ruined garment. “Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?”

The Doctor and the Gentlewoman who attended her looked on in horror: they had never seen so much canary yellow terrycloth in their lives.