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A Winter Solstice (reprint) in Witches' Brew (working title) Ed. Yvonne Jocks - Berkley, Autumn 2002 Ivy wanted Yuletide Magic -- but she never expected to find herself responsible for bringing back the light ... nor doing battle with so handsome a Holly King! "Okay then--the true meaning of Yule," she said now to the cat, glad to have someone to bounce this off of. "Most of the pagans I know equate it with the rebirth of the sun, but some also talk about the myth of the Oak King, who wages heroic battle against the Holly--" Amidst the storm outside, Ivy heard a thump against the door. The tabby cat sat up, ready to run. The fire shrank, then stretched. When Ivy turned toward the old cabin's door, away from the fire, her breath misted in the air and warmed her quilted vest to moistness against her cheek. "...King," she finished faintly. For a long moment, she resisted investigating. How could there be anybody out on a night like tonight? But it was too cold to risk being wrong. She stood. The door opened on its own, dragged an arc across the floor toward her. Wind sliced in, hurling shards of frozen crystal and sending her chair skittering across the floor. It tormented the writhing fire and filled the cabin with an unnerving, otherworldly screech. "I'm a witch," Ivy reminded herself softly, to maintain calm as she watched the door open further. "A stone in the ancient circle. I can handle whatever this night sends." She would feel more confidence were it not so dark...and if she had more faith in magic, of late. From the swirling, shadowy white emerged a form of black, tall and broad-shouldered. It filled the doorway for a moment. Then it half-staggered, half-fell through the entrance, crumpling across the cold dirt floor. A glaze of ice that had crusted its heavy coat shattered into dagger-like shards. Magic or no magic--this was real.... WITCHES' BREW |
Nothing Says 'I Love You' Like the Kiss of Cold Steel in Vengeance Fantastic Ed. Denise Little - DAW, Spring 2002 Tuppence and Cal have an unusual marriage... even for rogues. Once my uncle left, I wandered back to the window and stared into the courtyard. When Cal noticed me, I began unlacing the front of my gown. That caught his attention--and that of several servants. The silken cords of my bodice made whisking noises as they slid loose. I leaned over and, with one extended arm, dropped the cord into the garden below. Then, straightening, I shrugged my bodice the rest of the way off--turning at the last minute, so that all my audience could see bared was my back. Cal made it upstairs before I'd finished removing my stockings. "Not that I'm complaining," he muttered huskily, running his warm hands over me. "But what has you in so good a mood?" "Mmm." That's all I could say, since he chose that moment to kiss me. It kept me occupied while he yanked his boots and breeches off. When his mouth left mine, other parts of him distracted me quite as well. "What makes you think something--" I gasped, then purred. Hands, again. "--put me in a good mood?" Now he had to coax the truth out of me. "Fine," I confessed finally. "I've been scheming." Cal pretended shock. "No! Not you!" "Mmhm, and if you don't start performing your husbandly duties real damned soon, I might go through with it." "Go through with what, Darling?" A gentle brush of his fingers reassured me that he was still on my side, despite the endearment. "Kiss me, and I'll tell you." It was a long, wet, probing kiss. "My uncle and I have plotted to kill you," I admitted. "Kiss me again." The funny thing is, he did.... VENGEANCE FANTASTIC |
This Dog Watched in Familiar Fantastic Ed. Denise Little - DAW, Spring 2002 Al has an unusual past-life regression.... "But of thee it shall be said, This dog watched beside a bed Day and night unweary - Watched within a curtained room, Where no sunbeam brake the gloom Round the sick and dreary." --Elizabeth Barrett Browning I felt wrung out as I opened my eyes to the shadowy room of Madame Eglantine's facility. The incense smoke seemed far stronger, more redolent, as I readjusted from my canine incarnation. The noises around me--the hum of a window air-conditioner, the sound of a passing car's radio--seemed louder. But at least I didn't have the urge to nose her crystal ball off the table and chase it into the kitchen. Or to go after the cat. "You're sure they're saying Ba?" asked the psychic therapist. "That's the weirdest name I've ever come across--and I've regressed people back to ancient Sumer. Maybe you misheard." "I'm a Dog," I reminded her. Which under other circumstances would have been such a strange thing to say. "I think I'm an English spaniel. I don't--didn't--mishear things. But maybe I just can't reword some of them." "That's possible," she admitted. "Then again, you also spoke of evil magicians and powers. Perhaps this world which you're remembering isn't our world. Maybe it's another planet, another galaxy. Maybe it's another realm altogether, or an alternate-universe England." "Alternate universe." I tried to draw myself out of the concern that had returned to the twenty-first century with me--the chest-gripping, throat-clutching concern for my lady's safety. Already beset upon by one Sorcerer, she was now threatened by a second? How was a guy supposed to just sling on his backpack and bike toward Economics 101, knowing something like that? This world, Al, I reminded myself. This universe. "You mean like that episode from the original Trek series, where everyone was evil and had facial hair?" Didn't I remember a dog in that episode? "Yes," sighed Mme. Eglantine. "That is exactly what I mean." Since she had yet to crack a smile, I couldn't tell if she was joking or not.... FAMILIAR FANTASTIC |
Ecliptic in CONSTELLATION OF CATS Ed. Denise Little - November 2001 Surviving the Age of Pisces... Magdeleine caught the cat to her breast, buried her face, breathed water-soft fur. She knew too well what would happen to a suspected witch's familiar what was happening to too many cats across the county, perhaps all of Southern France. All because of this foolish witch scare. "Oh, Cassie, how did you get here?" Cassiopeia squirmed from Magdeleine's too-tight grasp and leapt to the dungeon floor. She craned her neck around to dramatically lick all traces of Magdeleine's tears off of her black side, her white-marbled flank. "'Tis too dangerous for you here," Magdeliene scolded, more afraid for her pet than herself. "You must hide." But Grandmother patted her shoulder. "Here is as safe a place as any." The other woman stepped from the shadows. "The guards tell me they've had less problem with rats since they began arresting witches." Indeed, as her eyes adjusted to the shadows, Magdeleine saw at least four other cats lying or sitting about the corners of the cell. Their eyes reflected the meager light like stars. "Then you are accused of witchcraft as well?" she asked. And Grandmother smiled sadly. "Aren't we all?" CONSTELLATION OF CATS |
Yes, Virginia, there IS a Unicorn in CREATURE FANTASTIC Ed. Denise Little - DAW Available Sept. 2001 The "Maiden and the Unicorn" specialty shop at the old mall is selling more than T-shirts! "What other definition is there?" demanded Bella. "A virgin is a person who hasn't had sex, which in this day and age is as rare as a freakin' unicorn. A technical virgin is someone who's fooled around hot and heavy, but hasn't actually done it. And there's no such thing as a born-again virgin without expensive elective surgery, don't even ask. Now are you both up to speed here, or do I need to draw you some graphs?" Kori was pouting, honest-to-god. Dyann quirked an eyebrow, patiently waiting for Bella to finish. And all of a sudden, Bella couldn't stand being in this stupid little shop with all its useless, incredibly annoying make believe. Clutching her pack of Marlboro Lights, she stalked out and bumped into someone, child-height. "Watch it," she snarled. But when she looked down, she didn't see anyone or anything. She hadn't imagined it. Her hip tingled, remembering the feel of muscled flesh against hers, but nobody stood anywhere near her. What the. . . Through the display window, a cartoon unicorn on a t-shirt, big-eyed and swirly forelocked, seemed to be laughing at her... CREATURE FANTASTIC |
Celtic Cross in MURDER MOST ROMANTIC Ed. Martin Greenberg & Denise Little - Cumberland House COVER ME, CROSS ME.... "Someone's going to die," whispered Didi, staring at the tarot card. Her new employer, Annie Tregaron, glanced over from where she stood by the cash register. "The death card doesn't always mean death," she prompted gently. Too gently, Didi thought, considering the garish picture of a skeleton which she'd just drawn from the store's sample deck. "I asked the cards what I should know about taking this job, and then I drew this!" "It usually means beginnings and endings." Annie plucked the card neatly from Didi's hand, tucked it back into the deck, and shuffled all 78 with practiced hands. With her gauzy skirts and all those rings and bracelets and all that brown hair, Annie Tregaron looked like some kind of high priestess. She sounded so sure, and yet... Someone's going to die, thought Didi again. And she had the sick feeling it might be her.... OVER ME, UNDER ME.... "I've never loved anyone like I love my wife, Mr. Delaney," said the man sitting across the desk from Sawyer, earlier that day. "Maybe nobody has. I'd die if anything happened to us." Die? That seemed extreme, but Sawyer was no expert on true love. All he said was, "And you're hiring me to...?" Connor O'Sullivan shifted restlessly. He had shaggy black hair, a long and shadowed jaw, stubborn blue eyes. He wore jeans and a WWF tee-shirt. "This isn't real comfortable for me, you know. Coming to another guy for help." Sawyer could've guessed that from the shirt. "So don't think of me as a guy, Mr. O'Sullivan," he advised, leaning further back in his chair. He opted against propping his booted feet up on his desk. Too gumshoe. "Just think of me as a private investigator." O'Sullivan scowled at him a long moment more. "Is it your wife you want investigated?" BEHIND ME, BEFORE ME.... Annie turned over the card that symbolized the immediate past the Devil, humanity's tendency to chain itself with negativity or obsession. But whose? Didi's, or her husband's? Or someone else's? Faster now, Annie turned the next card to reveal the immediate futureand stared. It showed a tower, lightning blasting the roof off, innocents tumbling from its windows toward their death. A portent of devastation, the Tower was arguably the worst card in the entire deck. Oh crap, she thought, taking in the main body of the tarot spread. Maybe someone IS going to die. WHAT IS TO BE? "Can I call you if I have more questions?" asked Sawyer Delaney. "You can call," Annie demurred. He stopped in the doorway, folded his arms, looked her up and down like a man who knew what he was doing. Annie waited for it. "Are you a good witch," he asked, "Or a bad witch?" "I told you, I'm not a witch." He glanced toward the tarot spread on the counter. "Witches," she said, "have too many rules about ethics." Then she smiled her best, most evil smile, and turned away from him. She didn't need him distracting her any further. She had Didi to take care of.... MURDER MOST ROMANTIC |
Random Acts of Kindness in GUARDIAN ANGELS: Heart-Warming Stories of Divine Influence and Protection. Ed. Martin H. Greenberg - Cumberland House 2000. Other authors in the anthology include Stephen R. Donaldson, Charles de Lint, and Laura Hayden. Never Drive Faster than your Angel Can Fly. In a highway battle against the good cars and the evil cars.... Practice Senseless Beauty and Random Acts of Kindness. ...Wendy is about to learn a lesson about road rage... This Car is Protected by a Guardian Angel. ... with some unusual teachers! GUARDIAN ANGELS |
A Woman of Character in A DANGEROUS MAGIC Ed. Denise Little - DAW Books, 1999 An anthology of stories by romance and fantasy authors, including Roberta Gellis, Andre Norton, & Diane Stuckart, as well as Wyrd Sisters Deb Stover, Laura Hayden, & Yvonne Jocks, from Denise Little. Erika meets the man of her dreams "changing planes" One TV Show... It wasn't for the terrorism/high-jacking/ narcotics- smuggling suspense that I taped every episode of Sky Marshal. No, week after week Damien Ryder's portrayal of Sky Marshal himself, a lanky, blond, blue-eyed hero with a roguish smile to melt the heart, drew me back. With Sky Marshal on this flight, I wouldn't worry. Yes, we'd be doomed to an adventure, as sure as any get-together with Murder She Wrote's Jessica Fletcher will yield at least one corpse. But with the trouble-shooting Sky on board, everything would turn out okay. He was that competent. And he was just the sort of hero to take pity on a really nervous passenger. He didn't just romance the younger ladies; he teased the older ones, buddied up with the male passengers, and defended children and animals. I could imagine the meeting with surprising clarity. He would notice me from, oh, a bank of payphones. Scared as I was, I probably wouldn't see him until he folded himself into plastic seat beside me, then drawled something painfully corny in that soft, deep voice of his. *Come here often...?* One Unusual Flight... When the passenger stepped into the first-class compartment, I nearly choked on my juice. Sky? Except, it wasn't Sky. Same height and shoulders, yes. Same strong features. But that full mouth of his pulled down at the corners in a way Sky Marshal's never did, even facing the worst perpetrators of aviation crime. Uncharacteristic boredom dulled his usually crystalline eyes. He'd greased his hair back, darkening the already dark blond so that he looked more brown. And he wore jeans and a T-shirt that I somehow sensed cost as much as my wardrobe. Be careful what you wish for. This wasn't Sky Marshal, it was.... "Damien Ryder," I whispered. Surely I said it quietly enough, especially under the whining engines, but maybe he could read lips; his gaze cut across the cabin to me, and his own lip curled. "I don't do autographs," he warned, and when the flight attendant pointed out his seat, his walk, almost effeminate, wasn't Sky's walk. He must be one hell of an actor, I thought numbly.... One Hero -- from Another Plane "Very funny, Ryder." The hunk beside me snorted. "Yeah, like that prima donna could buy a sense of humor. I bagged him in the john, snuck him down to cargo. I've got him stowed behind a doggie carrier with a St. Bernard in it. "Something's gotta be wrong, if I'm here. Something's always going wrong around me...." Could Ryder be this talented...? A DANGEROUS MAGIC Notes: This story entertains a topic close to my heart, and also taught me a great deal about the differences between romance writing and fantasy writing. The book was named one of the top 100 anthogies of the year by the New York Public Library, and my story was nominated for a Sapphire award. |
Click on the link for the story you want to see, or simply scroll down.... "Parenthetical Preference," in SORCERER'S ACADEMY "The Fairest," in THE MAGIC SHOP |
A Solitary Path Ed. Yvonne Jocks - Berkley, August 2002 A fantastic new anthology of original short stories and spells, all by Witch and Witch-frien=dly authors! Includes stories by Maggie Shayne, Lorna Tedder, Pamela Luzier, and more! Finally, some witch stories that get it right.... "Hear now the words of the Witches, the secrets we hid in the night When dark was our destiny's pathway That now we bring forth into light" --Doreen Valiente Witchcraft for Tomorrow Tobi creates a "thought form" who may be more than she bargained for! He is real, she kept telling herself to the beat of barbarian drums on her CD player, slowly perceiving the highlights of his hair, the plane of his cheeks, five-o'clock shadow, eyelashes. He is real. He may not be of my world, but here and now he is real.... Soon, his shade stood before her as surely as if she were watching him on TV. Oh, she could also see the doorway beyond him, the display of photographs through him. He hadn't materialized anywhere but in the astral realm and in her own perception of it. But by focusing on his presence, not his absence, she could "see" him clearly indeed. The way his dark eyes stared silently back at her, she even felt his presence with her, in this sacred circle. She imagined the scent of him, a faint mix of soap and musky aftershave. For a moment, it seemed almost as if she could reach out across the altar and.... But no, she had a spell to cast. Claiming the scarf, she lay it on the opposite side of the coffee-table altar from herself, at his feet--and saw that her thought-form wore brown cowboy boots. Who would have thought? Then, sitting back, Tobi spoke what she'd written: "I ask thee, guardian, for a boon-- from now until the next full moon. Protection, against anyone Who means me harm. Yet harming none, I bid thee, guardian, if you will Patrol these grounds against all ill As long as these, thy colors, fly-- Or if thou won't, bid me goodbye." Then she waited. As her creation, he would probably do as she asked... but as soon as something became real, it got free will. He seemed so very real, she found herself holding her breath--then releasing it, relieved, when he took an easy step forward onto the scarf. He had accepted. "Then I bid thee," she said, "to fulfill thy duty with the following virtues: Responsibility. Honor. Protection...." At one point during this recitation, angling her gaze upward and imagining his face, she thought she saw a hint of smile. She liked it, liked the lips she'd envisioned for him. If this weren't the middle of a fairly hefty spell, she might even smile back.... Tobi suddenly felt glad that she'd limited his existence to a 28-day cycle... and anxious to bind the spell! "If this working be correct," she cautioned, "and allows others to be free, so I Will it, so I Shape it, and So Mote it Be." And in the blink of an eye--poof?--she was alone again. Well, alone except for the masculine and feminine faces of God and the elements of Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and Spirit. But no tall, broad-shouldered, fictitious hunk stood before her. She couldn't shake the idea that, just before vanishing into the standard, he'd winked at her.... WORDS OF THE WITCHES |
Yvonne Jocks Von Jocks EvelynVaughn |
Short Stories.... Almost all my short stories exist due to the excellent work of Denise Little and Martin Greenberg of Tekno Books. They allow me to delve into paranormal topics a little more heavily than do even the paranormal romance novels, such as the Silhouette Shadows. |
Anthologies & Short Stories |
Click on the link for the story you want to see, or simply scroll down.... "Parenthetical Preference," in SORCERER'S ACADEMY "The Fairest," in THE MAGIC SHOP |
A Woman of Character in A DANGEROUS MAGIC Ed. Denise Little - DAW Books, 1999 An anthology of stories by romance and fantasy authors, including Roberta Gellis, Andre Norton, & Diane Stuckart, as well as Wyrd Sisters Deb Stover, Laura Hayden, & Yvonne Jocks, from Denise Little. Erika meets the man of her dreams "changing planes" One TV Show... It wasn't for the terrorism/high-jacking/ narcotics- smuggling suspense that I taped every episode of Sky Marshal. No, week after week Damien Ryder's portrayal of Sky Marshal himself, a lanky, blond, blue-eyed hero with a roguish smile to melt the heart, drew me back. With Sky Marshal on this flight, I wouldn't worry. Yes, we'd be doomed to an adventure, as sure as any get-together with Murder She Wrote's Jessica Fletcher will yield at least one corpse. But with the trouble-shooting Sky on board, everything would turn out okay. He was that competent. And he was just the sort of hero to take pity on a really nervous passenger. He didn't just romance the younger ladies; he teased the older ones, buddied up with the male passengers, and defended children and animals. I could imagine the meeting with surprising clarity. He would notice me from, oh, a bank of payphones. Scared as I was, I probably wouldn't see him until he folded himself into plastic seat beside me, then drawled something painfully corny in that soft, deep voice of his. *Come here often...?* One Unusual Flight... When the passenger stepped into the first-class compartment, I nearly choked on my juice. Sky? Except, it wasn't Sky. Same height and shoulders, yes. Same strong features. But that full mouth of his pulled down at the corners in a way Sky Marshal's never did, even facing the worst perpetrators of aviation crime. Uncharacteristic boredom dulled his usually crystalline eyes. He'd greased his hair back, darkening the already dark blond so that he looked more brown. And he wore jeans and a T-shirt that I somehow sensed cost as much as my wardrobe. Be careful what you wish for. This wasn't Sky Marshal, it was.... "Damien Ryder," I whispered. Surely I said it quietly enough, especially under the whining engines, but maybe he could read lips; his gaze cut across the cabin to me, and his own lip curled. "I don't do autographs," he warned, and when the flight attendant pointed out his seat, his walk, almost effeminate, wasn't Sky's walk. He must be one hell of an actor, I thought numbly.... One Hero -- from Another Plane "Very funny, Ryder." The hunk beside me snorted. "Yeah, like that prima donna could buy a sense of humor. I bagged him in the john, snuck him down to cargo. I've got him stowed behind a doggie carrier with a St. Bernard in it. "Something's gotta be wrong, if I'm here. Something's always going wrong around me...." Could Ryder be this talented...? A DANGEROUS MAGIC Notes: This story entertains a topic close to my heart, and also taught me a great deal about the differences between romance writing and fantasy writing. The book was named one of the top 100 anthogies of the year by the New York Public Library, and my story was nominated for a Sapphire award. |
Random Acts of Kindness in GUARDIAN ANGELS: Heart-Warming Stories of Divine Influence and Protection. Ed. Martin H. Greenberg - Cumberland House 2000. Other authors in the anthology include Stephen R. Donaldson, Charles de Lint, and Laura Hayden. Never Drive Faster than your Angel Can Fly. In a highway battle against the good cars and the evil cars.... Practice Senseless Beauty and Random Acts of Kindness. ...Wendy is about to learn a lesson about road rage... This Car is Protected by a Guardian Angel. ... with some unusual teachers! GUARDIAN ANGELS |
Celtic Cross in MURDER MOST ROMANTIC Ed. Martin Greenberg & Denise Little - Cumberland House COVER ME, CROSS ME.... "Someone's going to die," whispered Didi, staring at the tarot card. Her new employer, Annie Tregaron, glanced over from where she stood by the cash register. "The death card doesn't always mean death," she prompted gently. Too gently, Didi thought, considering the garish picture of a skeleton which she'd just drawn from the store's sample deck. "I asked the cards what I should know about taking this job, and then I drew this!" "It usually means beginnings and endings." Annie plucked the card neatly from Didi's hand, tucked it back into the deck, and shuffled all 78 with practiced hands. With her gauzy skirts and all those rings and bracelets and all that brown hair, Annie Tregaron looked like some kind of high priestess. She sounded so sure, and yet... Someone's going to die, thought Didi again. And she had the sick feeling it might be her.... OVER ME, UNDER ME.... "I've never loved anyone like I love my wife, Mr. Delaney," said the man sitting across the desk from Sawyer, earlier that day. "Maybe nobody has. I'd die if anything happened to us." Die? That seemed extreme, but Sawyer was no expert on true love. All he said was, "And you're hiring me to...?" Connor O'Sullivan shifted restlessly. He had shaggy black hair, a long and shadowed jaw, stubborn blue eyes. He wore jeans and a WWF tee-shirt. "This isn't real comfortable for me, you know. Coming to another guy for help." Sawyer could've guessed that from the shirt. "So don't think of me as a guy, Mr. O'Sullivan," he advised, leaning further back in his chair. He opted against propping his booted feet up on his desk. Too gumshoe. "Just think of me as a private investigator." O'Sullivan scowled at him a long moment more. "Is it your wife you want investigated?" BEHIND ME, BEFORE ME.... Annie turned over the card that symbolized the immediate past the Devil, humanity's tendency to chain itself with negativity or obsession. But whose? Didi's, or her husband's? Or someone else's? Faster now, Annie turned the next card to reveal the immediate futureand stared. It showed a tower, lightning blasting the roof off, innocents tumbling from its windows toward their death. A portent of devastation, the Tower was arguably the worst card in the entire deck. Oh crap, she thought, taking in the main body of the tarot spread. Maybe someone IS going to die. WHAT IS TO BE? "Can I call you if I have more questions?" asked Sawyer Delaney. "You can call," Annie demurred. He stopped in the doorway, folded his arms, looked her up and down like a man who knew what he was doing. Annie waited for it. "Are you a good witch," he asked, "Or a bad witch?" "I told you, I'm not a witch." He glanced toward the tarot spread on the counter. "Witches," she said, "have too many rules about ethics." Then she smiled her best, most evil smile, and turned away from him. She didn't need him distracting her any further. She had Didi to take care of.... MURDER MOST ROMANTIC |
Yes, Virginia, there IS a Unicorn in CREATURE FANTASTIC Ed. Denise Little - DAW Available Sept. 2001 The "Maiden and the Unicorn" specialty shop at the old mall is selling more than T-shirts! "What other definition is there?" demanded Bella. "A virgin is a person who hasn't had sex, which in this day and age is as rare as a freakin' unicorn. A technical virgin is someone who's fooled around hot and heavy, but hasn't actually done it. And there's no such thing as a born-again virgin without expensive elective surgery, don't even ask. Now are you both up to speed here, or do I need to draw you some graphs?" Kori was pouting, honest-to-god. Dyann quirked an eyebrow, patiently waiting for Bella to finish. And all of a sudden, Bella couldn't stand being in this stupid little shop with all its useless, incredibly annoying make believe. Clutching her pack of Marlboro Lights, she stalked out and bumped into someone, child-height. "Watch it," she snarled. But when she looked down, she didn't see anyone or anything. She hadn't imagined it. Her hip tingled, remembering the feel of muscled flesh against hers, but nobody stood anywhere near her. What the. . . Through the display window, a cartoon unicorn on a t-shirt, big-eyed and swirly forelocked, seemed to be laughing at her... CREATURE FANTASTIC |
Ecliptic in CONSTELLATION OF CATS Ed. Denise Little - November 2001 Surviving the Age of Pisces... Magdeleine caught the cat to her breast, buried her face, breathed water-soft fur. She knew too well what would happen to a suspected witch's familiar what was happening to too many cats across the county, perhaps all of Southern France. All because of this foolish witch scare. "Oh, Cassie, how did you get here?" Cassiopeia squirmed from Magdeleine's too-tight grasp and leapt to the dungeon floor. She craned her neck around to dramatically lick all traces of Magdeleine's tears off of her black side, her white-marbled flank. "'Tis too dangerous for you here," Magdeliene scolded, more afraid for her pet than herself. "You must hide." But Grandmother patted her shoulder. "Here is as safe a place as any." The other woman stepped from the shadows. "The guards tell me they've had less problem with rats since they began arresting witches." Indeed, as her eyes adjusted to the shadows, Magdeleine saw at least four other cats lying or sitting about the corners of the cell. Their eyes reflected the meager light like stars. "Then you are accused of witchcraft as well?" she asked. And Grandmother smiled sadly. "Aren't we all?" CONSTELLATION OF CATS |
This Dog Watched in Familiar Fantastic Ed. Denise Little - DAW, Spring 2002 Al has an unusual past-life regression.... "But of thee it shall be said, This dog watched beside a bed Day and night unweary - Watched within a curtained room, Where no sunbeam brake the gloom Round the sick and dreary." --Elizabeth Barrett Browning I felt wrung out as I opened my eyes to the shadowy room of Madame Eglantine's facility. The incense smoke seemed far stronger, more redolent, as I readjusted from my canine incarnation. The noises around me--the hum of a window air-conditioner, the sound of a passing car's radio--seemed louder. But at least I didn't have the urge to nose her crystal ball off the table and chase it into the kitchen. Or to go after the cat. "You're sure they're saying Ba?" asked the psychic therapist. "That's the weirdest name I've ever come across--and I've regressed people back to ancient Sumer. Maybe you misheard." "I'm a Dog," I reminded her. Which under other circumstances would have been such a strange thing to say. "I think I'm an English spaniel. I don't--didn't--mishear things. But maybe I just can't reword some of them." "That's possible," she admitted. "Then again, you also spoke of evil magicians and powers. Perhaps this world which you're remembering isn't our world. Maybe it's another planet, another galaxy. Maybe it's another realm altogether, or an alternate-universe England." "Alternate universe." I tried to draw myself out of the concern that had returned to the twenty-first century with me--the chest-gripping, throat-clutching concern for my lady's safety. Already beset upon by one Sorcerer, she was now threatened by a second? How was a guy supposed to just sling on his backpack and bike toward Economics 101, knowing something like that? This world, Al, I reminded myself. This universe. "You mean like that episode from the original Trek series, where everyone was evil and had facial hair?" Didn't I remember a dog in that episode? "Yes," sighed Mme. Eglantine. "That is exactly what I mean." Since she had yet to crack a smile, I couldn't tell if she was joking or not.... FAMILIAR FANTASTIC |
Nothing Says 'I Love You' Like the Kiss of Cold Steel in Vengeance Fantastic Ed. Denise Little - DAW, Spring 2002 Tuppence and Cal have an unusual marriage... even for rogues. Once my uncle left, I wandered back to the window and stared into the courtyard. When Cal noticed me, I began unlacing the front of my gown. That caught his attention--and that of several servants. The silken cords of my bodice made whisking noises as they slid loose. I leaned over and, with one extended arm, dropped the cord into the garden below. Then, straightening, I shrugged my bodice the rest of the way off--turning at the last minute, so that all my audience could see bared was my back. Cal made it upstairs before I'd finished removing my stockings. "Not that I'm complaining," he muttered huskily, running his warm hands over me. "But what has you in so good a mood?" "Mmm." That's all I could say, since he chose that moment to kiss me. It kept me occupied while he yanked his boots and breeches off. When his mouth left mine, other parts of him distracted me quite as well. "What makes you think something--" I gasped, then purred. Hands, again. "--put me in a good mood?" Now he had to coax the truth out of me. "Fine," I confessed finally. "I've been scheming." Cal pretended shock. "No! Not you!" "Mmhm, and if you don't start performing your husbandly duties real damned soon, I might go through with it." "Go through with what, Darling?" A gentle brush of his fingers reassured me that he was still on my side, despite the endearment. "Kiss me, and I'll tell you." It was a long, wet, probing kiss. "My uncle and I have plotted to kill you," I admitted. "Kiss me again." The funny thing is, he did.... VENGEANCE FANTASTIC |
A Winter Solstice (reprint) in Witches' Brew (working title) Ed. Yvonne Jocks - Berkley, Autumn 2002 Ivy wanted Yuletide Magic -- but she never expected to find herself responsible for bringing back the light ... nor doing battle with so handsome a Holly King! "Okay then--the true meaning of Yule," she said now to the cat, glad to have someone to bounce this off of. "Most of the pagans I know equate it with the rebirth of the sun, but some also talk about the myth of the Oak King, who wages heroic battle against the Holly--" Amidst the storm outside, Ivy heard a thump against the door. The tabby cat sat up, ready to run. The fire shrank, then stretched. When Ivy turned toward the old cabin's door, away from the fire, her breath misted in the air and warmed her quilted vest to moistness against her cheek. "...King," she finished faintly. For a long moment, she resisted investigating. How could there be anybody out on a night like tonight? But it was too cold to risk being wrong. She stood. The door opened on its own, dragged an arc across the floor toward her. Wind sliced in, hurling shards of frozen crystal and sending her chair skittering across the floor. It tormented the writhing fire and filled the cabin with an unnerving, otherworldly screech. "I'm a witch," Ivy reminded herself softly, to maintain calm as she watched the door open further. "A stone in the ancient circle. I can handle whatever this night sends." She would feel more confidence were it not so dark...and if she had more faith in magic, of late. From the swirling, shadowy white emerged a form of black, tall and broad-shouldered. It filled the doorway for a moment. Then it half-staggered, half-fell through the entrance, crumpling across the cold dirt floor. A glaze of ice that had crusted its heavy coat shattered into dagger-like shards. Magic or no magic--this was real.... WITCHES' BREW |
Yes, Virginia, there is animal magic in this collection... Dynamite anthology. --Harriet Klausner, Amazon.com |
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