I’ve been a busy little bee, haven’t I? Bold Curves can be purchased at Amazon in ebook and paperback form now, so do check it out. I’ve tweaked any issues I found in the Smashwords edition.
Also, I’ll be publishing another collection that features Every One Fight, Sector Bomb and some previously unpublished related short stories as Whitegraft Musings. As I’m value conscious, I realized Every One Fight wasn’t a good deal on its own. Keep an eye on this blog or my Patreon for more information.
If you’d like to see into my creative process, I’m posting pre-release artwork accessible to backers.
Ta for now~!
Sailor Rifts lives on in eBook form as Starlit Ruins, a free download at Smashwords. Maybe I’ll just answer the questions I think you’ll ask, right now?
What is it?
Palladium Rifts and I have a history. It was my first experience with intense story feedback; facial expressions are powerful indicators. So I used my fandom to lead them through a rescue mission of no less than the Bishoujo Sailor Senshi. This is that ‘infamous’ fanfiction novel I called a darkfic, back then.
Why re-release it now?
It kept nagging at me. Really. Over the course of two years I worked at it in fits and starts. I’d pour over a chapter and tear apart some dialogue here, realize I used “realize” far too often. I made all kinds of mistakes one does, inexperienced. It wasn’t done right, or justice.
Where can I get it, how much does it cost?
It’s free. You can download it from Smashwords directly, or from iTunes, the Kindle Store and more. Follow the link and grab your copy in your preferred format.
Excerpt from ‘How to Crack a Planet’ (working title). The thirteenth Doctor (Peter Capaldi) and Aaran Coates, a gold-blond silver-blue eyed private detective dressed in a grey suit, blue formal shirt and black sneakers. She has encountered the Tardis for the first time, and this scene explores her reactions.
Casually flicking switches and twisting knobs on the raised, octagonal platform, the Doctor patiently awaited the response. She had crossed the threshold, in body, but not in mind, and had her head poked out, holding the one closed royal blue door and leaning back. Continue reading
This is the result – after some necessary editing – of the challenge I began alongside NaNoWriMo in November. My first police drama. Enjoy!
By Simon Woodington
Face first on the pavement, no sign of trauma, foul play or … anything that a keen eye or diagnostic hand could detect. Detective Inspector Penny Broken frowned and unfolded her arms with the synthetic crinkle of weather resistant jacket, gesturing at the nape of the neck, the back of his thick legs, vaguely suggesting the ‘usual’ vulnerabilities. She prefaced lightly: “He was no vagabond. Ordinary as they come; clothes covered in ash from a day at Westbarrow. Ulysses Joinfellow, unmarried, age thirty-six. A loner by the looks of his complexion and social profile. We’re running the ID. He had twenty credits on him, unmarked.” Continue reading