I’m a big fan of pulp fiction—noir, westerns, horror, sci-fi, and fantasy. You know, hardboiled stories with gritty characters. I’m working on one that blends these genres. The idea was inspired by a ’90s rock video by The Toadies and my collection of Edgar Rice Burroughs paperbacks, which I received from a thoughtful boyfriend way back when I was 19. I’d like to share the opening scene.
Let me know if it grabs you. I might just serialize the story in installments for you and subscribers of my newsletter. After all, that’s how pulp fiction is meant to be shared.
Visit this awesome Pinterest Board for more fabulous pulp magazine covers.
Meetings at the Edge
Detective Charlie Driver knelt among the charred beams on the blackened stone floor, a cigarette unlit and dangling from his lips as he examined the scene. Ash and smoke were all that remained of the old boathouse at the edge of Stem Pond, which had a dark history of burning down and then rising again from the ashes. Each time, people died in the blaze, just like now.
As with previous incidents, there was no sign that anyone besides the victim had entered or been near the abandoned building when it caught fire, nor was there any evidence of how the fire started or why it only affected the small structure before burning out, despite witnesses a mile away describing flames shooting above the trees like Roman candles. It was as if it had taken place in a vacuum.
His department and the fire investigator officially cleared the scene the day before, and the remains were with the coroner. Every piece of evidence had been collected and sent to Charlie’s understaffed but capable crime lab, and he’d returned to the scene alone.
After the yellow tape came down, there was no one around to crowd his thoughts or question his methods. He would draw a cigarette, brush it beneath his nose before setting it between his lips, and let the ritual stir the instincts he trusted more than evidence. It often helped him get a bead on the victim.
His methods weren’t working today.
While the victim’s presence felt tangible in the lingering scent of smoke and damp earth, their voice remained as silent as the surroundings.
A crow had been lurking nearby for the past hour, occasionally shifting branches as if to remind him it was there. When it finally cawed overhead, Charlie nearly bit off the tip of his cigarette. He palmed it, squinting at the bird, then let the silence settle back in. Was the nosy creature reminding him that he was the only human on this Sunday afternoon, left in this cold, neglected 20-acre park? A gust whipped up unexpectedly, finding its way down the back of his fleece-lined coat, and Charlie stood, pulling his collar tighter.
Feeling as if the pond somehow held answers, Charlie took one last look around. The water wasn’t very deep, and beneath the frost lay a thick layer of moss. Centuries-old ash, oak, and elm trees stretched upward from its shore like twisted skeletons, interspersed with ghostly stands of fir, creating a dense, somewhat gloomy woodland. Frost covered the branches and glittered on the charred ruins beneath his feet—all signs of winter in this rangeland county. Yet, one detail puzzled him: all the green stalks poking through the snow. The park was overrun with wild onions.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very strange about it, not because they grew in winter (onions can tolerate cold temperatures), but because this proliferation was unusually early. And why this place? He rolled his shoulders. Strangeness was increasingly the theme of this investigation, but what that meant for the victim…
Another blast of cold air swept over him, but this one carried something more—something inexplicable—making him want to light up his smoke and take a deep drag. The crow let out another loud caw as it took flight. Clenching his jaw, Charlie slipped the cigarette into his breast pocket and headed for his car. It was time to meet with his partner and go over the facts she’d been gathering.
Want to find out who died in the mysterious fire in a park overgrown with wild onions? Let me know in the comments.
The tale of a revolution against a corrupt government, set in an immersive fantasy world…
I love it when a writing friend launches a new book. And who doesn’t love a good revolution?
Check out this cover reveal for Together We Rise by Richie Billing.
Together We Rise is a new fantasy novella by Richie Billing about a people’s revolution against a corrupt government. It features an original soundtrack integrated into the story. It comes out on 22nd March, and you can find out more here.
You can also read the first chapter on Richie’s Patreon.
Description:
In the crumbling city of Pietalos, where corruption and poverty reign, the fires of revolution burn hotter each day. An oppressive government has bled its people dry for the benefit of the elite, but the citizens have had enough. Eight lives—each scarred by loss, betrayal, and violence—intertwine as they fight for their futures and that of the city.
Dhijs, a weary healer, joins forces with Tillia, a woman seeking both liberation for the people and personal revenge against her abusive husband. Captain Vaso. Zia, a factory worker turned reluctant leader, ignites the workers’ rebellion, transforming protest into full-blown revolution. In the shadows, the cynical drug pusher King is forced to rethink his loyalties as riots consume the streets, while his rebellious young messenger Mal feeds critical information to the revolutionaries.
Meanwhile, Kishto, a guard disillusioned by the brutality of his comrades, defects to the cause after witnessing a brutal act of violence against a woman and child. General Leo, a former war hero haunted by guilt, secretly aids the rebellion. And Mydela, a scarred yet skilled assassin, takes on the city’s ultimate enemy—Canterbury, who hides a dark secret as a member of a malevolent race that seeks to subjugate the people.
As Pietalos teeters on the edge of a new era, these eight individuals must fight for justice, revenge, and redemption. But in a city where violence and betrayal lurk behind every corner, will their efforts be enough to topple the corrupt regime?
Together We Rise is a political fantasy story of revolution, vengeance, and hope, where the fate of a city rests on the courage of those willing to defy the odds and reclaim their future.
Promotional freebies are coming your way. Sign up for my newsletter for details.
And you won’t have long to wait for publication! The conclusion to the Anurashin conflict and Selena’s prophetic journey will publish on a date that is special to me in fulfillment of my promise to myself. Stay tuned!
Thank you to all who have waited patiently for the final book. Ending a journey is harder for a story teller than you might think.
Preface
When destiny gives you three paths, choose the fourth.
That’s what Selena keeps telling herself while she and her pack regroup at her brother’s fishing lodge in Ketchikan after evading the alien prince intent on taking her.
When the pack arrives, the family reunion doesn’t go as expected. Dylan is changed in a way that shocks them all, and that’s not their only complication. Aviel’s brothers have sinister plans for the alphas, a vampire breaks supernatural law to enlist Selena’s help on a mission, driving a wedge between her and her mate, and a seer sends her visions of three distinct paths to her destiny.
Being a marked maiden means Selena is supposed to have the support of her pack on this journey foisted on her by fate. Instead, the once loner artist finds herself marching down Destiny’s twisting road with only her goddess-bestowed instincts for company, a slim hope she isn’t sacrificing the love of her life, and a desperate hope she has what it takes to bring down an alien prince.
Tigris Vetus
Selena and Elliott
When I got close enough to see light seeping underneath the bathroom door, I backed away. Before I could turn around, the door opened on a bare-chested, dragon-tattooed Elliott—again with the wet hair and rolled towel draped over his shoulders, looking hot as… Well, there was no denying Michael Elliott was just plain hot, an entirely different hot than my hotter-than-hot boyfriend.
There was also no denying he teased me with the memory of our encounter in his office when he dabbed the edges of the towel over his damp skin, midnight blue eyes sparkling, and arm muscles bulging. I swallowed. I might have even run my tongue over my lips much to my shame because his eyes blazed with his fire.
“Excuse me,” I said primly as I backed away.
“It’s all yours,” he said with a sweep of his hand. I doubted anyone could infuse more intimacy into those words.
Despite taking care not to brush against him as we traded places, I was close enough to see his inked dragon coiling around him… but I looked for that now.
I closed the door… a little too loudly and leaned against the polished pine panels to gather my wits. I jumped at the sound of his voice.
“Selena?”
“What is it?”
“Open the door.” I complied and peered at him through a one-inch gap. “Don’t go too long harboring all those questions shimmering in your eyes. You can talk to me… About us. About Onyx. Anything that’s worrying you. Okay?” Nodding was the most I could manage before shutting the door again.
Selena and Mortas
“You are a puzzle that must be solved, Selena, but that’s my problem. I do apologize if I’ve created one for you as well.”
I huffed out my acknowledgment before sweeping aside the cover and hiking up my shirt. Nothing!
“It’s all healed!”
He stared a little too intently at my thigh before looking at me.
“It’s a vampire thing. You’re as good as new. There’s no need for you to think more about it.”
“Well then, I thank you.” I narrowed my eyes. “You’re leaving something out. I just hope my ignorance doesn’t get me in trouble.” That worry was met with more silent regard.
A thought occurred to me as I smoothed my shirt over my legs. “You’ve been doing your thing with my clothing again. You take a lot of liberties with my person, Mortas. Why can I never get mad at you?”
His snort of laughter was so human I gaped at him. My incredulous face caused more incongruous sounds, and his shoulders shook. I couldn’t help but join him. When tears ran down my face, he procured a tissue from the ether and handed it to me like a magician on a stage, and we laughed harder. Eventually, we quieted, and I blew my nose.
“Thanks. I needed that. I take it you’re none the worse for wear. Septimus was as vicious as you… until the end.”
“The only permanent damage was to my jacket.” His eyes glittered. “Thank you for putting out the flames that might have ended me.”
“That would be unthinkable.” The glittering softened into a warm glow.
I cleared my throat and asked him a question. “You drank Septimus’s wine, Mortas, after warning me not to. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to get us out of our predicament. What happened?”
Andras and Selena
I rested my forehead against hers, closed my eyes, and summoned her Craftsman cottage and the two of us meshed together on her sofa surrounded by polished wood, stained-glass, and the richness of her creations. This was where my mind traveled when I needed balance. But instead of comfort, regret stabbed me. We’d strayed so far from her little artist haven.
My thoughts must have seeped out because she grasped my face and pinned me with her eyes. “Don’t. I’m right where I want to be. I didn’t mean to make you doubt that.”
I kissed her palm, then her lips, and kept going. We merged as one a second time and once again, I claimed her—just as she claimed me. The power of it and my lack of sleep lulled me into slumber.
Her words passed over me as I drifted away. “I love you so much, my beautiful bear.”
When my eyes opened again, the light in the room was a little less bright—a clue this far north that it was nearing evening—and I was alone. My neck stung. I probed the spot and drew away a speck of blood.
Retire I said. Write full time, I said. Get up when I want. Eat when I want. Listen to books when I want. Go out with friends when I want. Eerrk! Wait, back up. Write full time? That’s work, right?
Did I really think my pod people (aka book characters seeded in my brain by aliens) would let me retire? Get up when I wanted, go out with friends when I wanted. eat when I wanted? Okay, so that stuff is actually happening, but yikes! I am really writing full time!
Like get up, stay in my jammies, bring a cup of coffee to my office, and start writing, until I want to stop kind of full time writing. Oh Yeah!
It was a great month to retire from the old day job because it’s Camp NanoWrimo! I passed my goal yesterday and I’m closing in on a finish to a story I have been dying to write since Book Two in my series, The Starlight Chronicles (slipping in an announcement here – my series relaunch is happening in May!!), because there’s a vampire, one of those secondary pod people you fall in love with from his very first introduction. And he only gets better all the way through to his cliffhanger ending (coming in Book Three!!).
So what better Camp project is there than giving Mortas his own short story. And events unfold that include another great secondary pod person, Ember, the witch. But pod people beget more pod people when writing fiction. And that’s what’s happening in this story. New compelling pod people!
I’m trying to keep it short, which means its 15,000 if I want to submit it to an Indie Press anthology. But it’s pushing the boundaries really tight. So, we’ll see.
Let me know what you think of the story description that follows my beautiful teaser. I would love any help with using it for my submission.
Mortas
Description:
No one remembers how Mortas came into existence, least of all him. Due to his vast age, he can command magic, and his vampire urges. His other inexplicable ability? He can exist in daylight. These skills mean Lord Aramis, the ruler of the North American Vampires, often assigns his favorite emissary to missions involving humans.
But Mortas has not always been at the pinnacle of vampire perfection. He’s done a lot of things in his thousands of years he would rather forget.
When he meets a witch in San Francisco in 1969, he wonders for the first time if it’s possible to live life without being plagued by dreams of regret. But Ember has another calling and leaves their bed one afternoon, never to return.
When you’re immortal, you move on.
An assignment leads Mortas to Selena Aires. He’s captivated by the beautiful, marked maiden with a prophetic destiny. Turns out she needs his help. But Mortas’s help is never free. When she pays the price without question and joins him on a dangerous mission, his fascination turns into purpose. A purpose that sends him into the worst predicament of his life.
~~~
Ember grew up in Fisherman’s Wharf, part of a coven who told fortunes for sailors as cover to more lucrative work, like picking their pockets. When two of her marks got the better of her at fourteen, she got rescued by a bear. To this day, she would do anything for that bear shifter because Andras Johns is one of the best men she knows. When he calls on her to help a vampire in trouble, she doesn’t hesitate to answer.
APRIL! Better weather – NaNoWriMo Camp Month – Retirement entered, full-time writing commences… Can’t wait to finish book three of The Starlight Chronicles! I’m simultaneously writing a spin-off story that continues where book three leaves off, which is helping me write my closing scenes. I love how this stuff works!
Oh! And check out this precious pen from my workmates as a send off today. They even inscribed it with my pen name.
Book One – polishing… nearly done… Click image for an excerpt!
Selena Aires is fine with her nine-to-five life in the city, using her spare time to create art instead of making friends or finding love, until her mentor insists she’s on the wrong path.
When he dies, her grief and faith in his convictions prompts her to move to a small town in the lofty Sierra Nevada Mountains. But more is waiting for her in Quincy than the invigorating pine-scented air, endless trails, and the perfect artist bungalow. What Selena didn’t expect was an encounter with an astonishing man whose barely restrained power calls to something buried in her she had no idea was there.
The alpha of the North Star Pack thought he’d faced every challenge until he laid eyes on the new human in his territory, a beautiful artist with the heart of a warrior. Andras Johns knows instantly his life will never be the same.
The two of them must find a way to merge their opposing worlds while Selena grapples with her feelings for a man with a mystery beneath the surface and faces a destiny that’s expanded beyond her wildest imagination, a destiny fraught with peril in a world that just keeps getting stranger.
Prologue
Zigan – 1988 AD
Thunder boomed and lightning flared across the wheatfields the night Zigan materialized on the upstairs landing of the farmhouse that hunkered against the storm, square and sturdy in its aged timbers.
The floor creaked under his feet as he inspected the closed doors, using the light from the watery halfmoon. He wasn’t worried. Any noise he made was concealed by the winds that rocked the house. It took him only a moment to sense the soul he was to bind himself with for the rest of his earthly life.
Soft snoring from the room at the end of the hall confirmed her parents were asleep, and Zigan was free to carry out his purpose. Still, he paused at her threshold to savor the moment he’d waited for since he was seven, the year his parents gave him to the Order of Hala.
Since then, Zigan had trained in many disciplines to prepare for this bonding and the challenges it would bring. Decades of dedication had brought him to this time, this remote California county, and to this precious infant. He pushed open the door.
Two children slept despite the raging storm and pulsating light. His own electricity throbbed on the inside of his wrist as he approached the baby girl who came awake when he leaned over the crib. Her arms and legs wiggled in response to the magic he sent surging around them.
The tiny being made no sound as she watched him from unusual ochre eyes rimmed in silver. Eyes that confirmed she was the one. He noted the feature unique to the human she was in this cycle, a heart shaped face framed by a halo of shiny dark hair. These things together would help him find her when she was grown.
A faint rustling drew his attention to the bed against the opposite wall. Her four-year old brother dreamed, nestled beneath a Spiderman cover with his own mop of dark hair peeking out.
It was time to do what Zigan had come to do. He pressed his wrist against the infant’s minuscule left shoulder. An obscure image of a half-moon and a wind symbol tucked next to it formed on her delicate skin. Her eyes sparkled, and she smiled as their souls connected.
He whispered in the quiet room against the noise of the storm, “Until we meet again, grow well, my precious one.” Zigan gathered his mist and was gone.
Chapter 1
Selena – Present Day
Gemma Landry rested her hand next to my sketchpad after setting down my beer, and I pulled my attention away from my drawing to look up at her glittering violet eyes. “Look past my hip. The show’s about to begin.”
A screech confirmed her prediction, and the source of the unruly sound tossed her drink into a man’s face.
“They’re at it again. You can see the air vibrating between them. I didn’t think drink-tossing was a thing in real life,” I said with a fair amount of amazement.
The Starlight’s cook, Kenny Sullivan, appeared at the kitchen door, wiping his hands on his apron. He winked at us while we waited for the drama to unfold between two regulars who got into heated arguments at least once a week. They had to enjoy the constant conflict.
It was the sort of scene that inspired my art, and I turned to a fresh page in my journal and started drawing.
I prodded Gemma for more predictions. “What do you think Jason’s going to do about the message dripping down his face?”
She laughed. “I’ll wager you one of Kenny’s tuna melts he walks away without kissing Lucy like he wants to, despite the insult.”
“You’re on.”
Jason’s posturing didn’t faze his wife, who kept the sparks flying his way. At one point their lips were so close they nearly brushed together, and I thought I might win the bet. But they pulled back before they made contact, and that’s when I noticed something more subtle in their interaction. An odd light flashed in both pairs of eyes.
I swallowed. “I can’t be the only one who sees that.”
Gemma cleared her throat. “Yeah. I see it. And I have no idea what it means.”
Judging by her tone and the fact that the Starlight’s most popular server was tapped into everything that went on in this pub, I was sure she had at least an inkling. But I let it go for now and added more to my drawing, even as the hairs prickled on the back of my neck like they did every time these two dueled.
Though we were convinced something more would happen, it never did. That didn’t stop us from waiting for it. I laid down more charcoal.
“How do you do that?” Gemma said as she leaned over me. “Getting action to leap from your pages. It’s two faces, and they aren’t even moving.”
“There’s a trick to it, and anyone can learn. I’ll show you sometime.” I drew her attention to other intriguing characters hunched over their beers at a table in the opposite corner. “I’ll bet you a chicken salad at Jean’s that one of those men will intervene.”
We looked at five Harley Davidson riders who, for whatever reason, acted as informal security. At least they appeared to be bikers, but like so many things in this place, more lurked under the surface.
Gemma snorted. “Nope. Not taking that one.”
I watched in fascination when the one who demonstrated authority with every move gave a wordless command to one of the other four, a man whose face was shrouded by his hood and even weirder, ebbing shadows. The effect combined with his aura of power kept me from voicing my observations. What I saw was too strange for words.
Jason stiffened in response to whatever the hooded man said, shrugged his beefy shoulders, and left without a backward glance. I didn’t blame him. I would obey the shadowy guy without question too.
The shrouded face bent to Lucy’s ear next. Her shoulders slumped and she nodded. The lights in her eyes retreated. When she joined her friends at the bar, she was no different than any other half of a rowdy Starlight couple, and I could almost believe I’d imagined all the strange signals.
Kenny caught my eye again and grinned before disappearing into the kitchen. Red Russo, the proprietor of this establishment had observed the whole thing while he stood next to Kenny rubbing a towel over a glass mug. I wasn’t surprised when he traded a glance with the honey-blond giant giving the orders.
Gemma squeezed my shoulder and headed to her next table, her black braid with purple highlights whipping around her hips. I thought about her mysterious tone earlier. Gemma might be carefree on the outside, but worry lines etched across her forehead, and she held secrets in her eyes. I wanted to help with whatever it was and hoped she would let me in soon, or I might have to start probing.
Sometimes it felt like everyone at the Starlight had secrets, and I looked down at my drawing, wondering if that were true for most small towns. I risked another peek at the five men crammed into that table. It was no surprise when the blond giant mentioned earlier looked my way.
He nodded. It wasn’t the first time.
Despite the heat flaring up my neck and the fluttering in my belly, my stubborn side kicked in, and I gave him my best smile. He held my gaze but didn’t smile back.
These exchanges were getting harder to respond to because each time, he appeared to question his wisdom in acknowledging my existence. It was confusing as hell, and it had been going on for weeks.
I broke the contact, finished my beer, and turned to another page in my journal. The sketch I landed on marked the beginning of what I could only describe as a reluctant fascination.
By D. L. Lewellyn 