Drabble Rock

The Ballad of Mercy May; 0012


the creatures pursuing her are her answer. She has no other choice but to push her already exhausted body onward to the city on the hill.

Surely they will tire, she tells herself, a sharp pain in her side like a knife between her ribs from the effort making it difficult to breathe, and the walled city growing ever so slowly nearer. Surely they will give up the chase.

Alas the monsters were not so accommodating.

However, in a stroke of good fortune, the woman does not need them to be, after all. For, just as she feels her legs


Drabble Rock

Drabble Rock; Week 10


“Your mother never told you what she was doing in my city that day, did she?” Torrence’s voice was low and teasing, a sadistic smile tugging at their lips.

Leema didn’t answer – couldn’t. But her silence was answer enough.

“Of course she didn’t,” the spy continued, still circling her as an animal might circle their cornered prey, “because that would mean admitting that she had done something not just reckless or foolish, but utterly wrong. And we both know the perfect, peerless Mirabel Stone would never confess to being responsible for all those deaths, now would she?”

No. She wouldn’t.

Drabble Rock

The Ballad of Mercy May; 0011


their own volition, as if her body is possessed by a power that is at once both foreign and familiar. It is… strangely exhilarating.

Eventually, the wild terrain gives way to tamed, yet unkempt farmland. A dirt path forms, a welcome relief to the woman’s aching feet after the undergrowth, and here and there barns and cottages dot the landscape. Yet, as she draws nearer, she realizes the houses are not the first taste of civilization she’d hoped for. All of them, to a one, are rundown — abandoned.

What happened here? The woman wonders desperately.

The baying and snarling of


Drabble Rock

The Ballad of Mercy May; 0010


as she passes.

The hot panting breath of the monster on her heels steadily fades. A scream of frustration echoes through the trees.

But she is leaving it behind. Slowly, the nigh on suffocating foliage begins to thin, and, a few strides later, she bursts through the thicket into bright sunshine and open space. In the distance lies a walled city on a hill, and her salvation.

A deranged howl behind her alerts the woman to several more of the beasts’ kin joining the hunt alongside it. She does not slow — she cannot. Her legs seem to be moving of


Drabble Rock

The Ballad of Mercy May; 0009


this gods forsaken forest, this is the end.


In that moment, it is the only word she knows. Whether it is her own determination, or that of the disembodied presence hovering at the back of her consciousness, it saves her — at least for the moment. A surge of energy courses through her, and suddenly she is running like the wind, until her eyes are streaming from the air rushing past her. The dense vegetation of the forest no longer feels like it is grabbing at her hair and clothes, but now seems to be bending out of the way


Drabble Rock

Drabble Rock, Week 10


The tea kettle whistled then, the shrill sound piercing the air, but still the old woman did not release Arcelie from her grip – or her sightless gaze.

“Have they told you what happens to us?” The woman asked, her voice a harsh whisper. “Have they warned you what your power will do to you?”

“Yeah,” Arcelie said, trying to shake off the heavy atmosphere, not to mention the woman’s fist. “They said if you’re not careful you can become addicted to the magic.”

The woman shook her head. “No, girl,” she said slowly. “It is much, much worse than that.”

Drabble Rock

Drabble Rock, Week 9


Of all the endeavors she’d undertaken in her heretofore fruitless search for her wayward twin sister, this was far and away the most reckless scheme she’d ever hatched.

In the shadows of the abandoned market stall that stood across from the gatehouse where newly indentured servants bound for the Silent Empire were processed, Yvenna watched with bated breath. Soon, she would count herself among them, another desperate soul bound for the unknown.

How she was to escape Nythelion, a feat no indentured had ever achieved before, after she found Ysala… Well, she would have to figure out that part later.

Drabble Rock

The Ballad of Mercy May; 0008


her empty mind could have possibly conceived.

The beast cannot possibly be of this world, she knows at once. It might be called a canine, as it pursues her on four long limbs bent at unnatural angles and is possessed of a slavering snout full of massive, serrated teeth. It has no fur, however, only a bloated black body that is sloughing off putrid, dark colored slime as it moves through the brush.

When it sees the woman looking, it laughs at her.

This is the end her life, she knows then. Whatever might have come before she awoke in



Shameless Self-Promotion: Patreon Launch

Friends, it has been a long, insightful and at times grueling eighteen months since I first started writing for Scribd. I went from not believing my work would even be good enough for publication, to worrying that I was going to burn myself out in a few short months, to actively pitching new ideas before my current contracts have been fulfilled.

To say I never imagined I would end up here, proudly presenting my novellas to the world at large is a huge understatement. When I started this endeavor, my anxiety was so severe I didn’t even tell my partner what I was up to until I was already neck deep in the first manuscript. The rest of my family? Months.

Which is not to say I’m not nervous now. Of course I am. While I am hardly depending on the success of this Patreon for financial or creative support, I, of course, would love to see it thrive.

On the other hand, there’s a reason I never seriously looked into self-pubbing. I know I don’t have the knowledge, energy, or funds to pull it off. So, if I screw this up, well, at least I didn’t lose anything in the process.

Anyway, that’s a very long winded way of saying the first of my romance novellas is now available on my Patreon. While my heart lies with fantasy, these stories are very near and dear to my heart. If romance is your bag and you’re a fan of my work (as a blogger or as a writer), it would mean a lot to me if you would consider becoming a Patron. If you’re not interested yourself, a share of my page to someone who might like my work would also go a long way. If Patronage is not in your budget, but you still would like to take a look at my novellas, send me a private message and I’ll be happy to forward you the epub, free of charge.

This month’s release is out now!

TITLE: The Dutiful and the Disfavored

SUBGENRE: Historical (Regency)

LENGTH: 126 pages



Pearl is young, single, and completely uninterested in the trappings of marriage. Not that her father cares about her personal preferences. When Pearl is married off in what is meant to be none other than a good business deal between families, she decides she will have nothing to do with her intended husband. Or so she thinks.

Kind-hearted Thomas is more welcoming to the thought of a marriage partner than his betrothed, but such a gentle soul would never dare to overstep Pearl’s boundaries. With a partner so intent on keeping him at arm’s length, how can he convince his new wife that he truly loves her?

Pearl and Thomas are forced to get to know each other in the most unfortunate of situations: an arranged marriage unwanted by both of them. Will their families’ meddling come between the blossoming of what looks like an actual romance?

Become a Patron today!

Drabble Rock

Drabble Rock, Week 8


“Marvelous,” said Lord Conteville and he swept forward to greet Marceline, planting sloppy, wine-soaked kisses on each cheek. “Simply captivating, my dear. I daresay you have caught the eye of every eligible man here. And some ineligible, I might add.” He chortled at his own little joke, while Marceline watched, smiling politely, though, privately, she could not say she was as pleased as her great uncle was. She was there, after all, enjoying the attentions of the great and the good of Nar as a result of her mother’s careful social maneuvering, not through any real desire of her own.