Arthur Jones reached his arm out the window and signaled the troop carriers behind us to halt. We rolled to a silent stop. Ahead of us, mist slipped out of the trees, uncurling across the road like pale fingers. In my deep green shadows, something toothy began to stir. A sudden shiver ran over my skin, electric,

Aisling Silent wings flew over my head. A cream and brown owlie landed on a pine branch fifteen feet from me. The little alien was about a foot and a half tall and looked like a cross between a barn owl and a squirrel. It’s an awfully cute look for what are, at heart, interstellar street

Arthur The sight of the scarred fish-man swam behind my eyes all the way back to our rendezvous point with the patrol. My jaw ached from clenching against memories, and the monster in my green shadows paced and strained against its bindings. Our soldiers had guards posted, and a sharp whistle rang out at our approach.

The Old Tank in the Woods Aisling Thin puddle ice, sharp as a northern pike’s teeth, sliced into the bare soles of my feet. The March air burned cold in my lungs as I sprinted flat-out down the old rural road, bare heels flying over potholes and loose gravel, heading for a place human law could not

Salvage Detail Arthur   Fifty miles downriver from occupied Minneapolis, cottonwoods along the Mississippi were blushing with the first faint greens of spring. Pussy willows bloomed in the low areas, and the last dregs of snow from a recent blizzard were dripping away into the thawing soil. The river was running fast and high, with chunks of ice

Ill Wind Aisling I was as restless as the rough March wind. The raw breeze made spinning my aunt’s mixed cattail and nettle fibers an exercise in frustration, much like visiting home. Spring break there meant chores, and the damning judgment of my very-human family on every life choice they knew of. Sigh. I could get whiplash with

Still figuring out this serial posting thing, and realized Ch. 1 was too long for one post. Splitting it in half now, and Chapter 2 should be up shortly.    Chapter 1 part 2: Murderous Mermaids Aisling, March 2049 Near Grand Marais, MN   “I still look human, right?” I whispered, ducking and checking my reflection in my pickup’s rearview mirror.

I've been working on edits for a relaunch of "Strangeling" and am at the point where I could post the whole thing as a serial or start collecting email addresses for ARC readers... or both? Let me know what you think in the comments. Why re-release? I've got a 7 book (at least) series planned