Author and Creator of Anno Zombus, but don't let that worry you; I write more than just zombie stories.
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Grace Under Dragonfire
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. The first sign that Kira noticed was when the smoking remains of a cow dropped onto her uncle Mitch, followed by a terrifying roar. They’d been walking back home after a long day’s work in the city, through the Valley. ‘Work’ would be the technical term for what the pair did, she was sure of it. Uncle Mitch had begged for coin while nimble young Kira stole from the throng that always crowded the streets of the city, day or night. They’d made enough that day that Mitch got himself good and drunk as they ate their customary meal at what at first appearances was a fairly shabby tavern, but once the odour of the food hit all thought went out of Kira’s mind of anything other than eating.
My childhood was a wreck. Sure, there were kids who had it worse than me, plenty in fact. But it was not a pleasant way to have grown up. I remember the adults around me always telling me that I was 'living through the best years of my life' and I would think 'if this is it, I'd rather be dead'. Having a narcissistic alcoholic for one parent while the other is far too busy just trying to earn a living so that we can actually do things like eat on a daily basis makes for a lonely, messed up kid.
Dave's Rules for 2022
2022. January. Great, I’m still alive! It has been a monumental effort even for relatively ‘normal’ people just to remain vaguely sane over the last couple of years, with an overabundance of people telling you what to think, who to listen to, what you need to do for the rest of your days. It feels particularly bad here in Australia for some reason… 2020/21 were disastrous for me in particular, as I have had to deal with the return of the most narcissistic parent ever to walk the Earth. He has since removed himself from my existence when I made it plain that I would no longer tolerate such bullshit, but the stress of the situation lingers on.
Standing on the deck, gazing out over the waves, the predator sensed movement and vanished in an instant. The crew of this ship, small though it was, were in numbers great enough that the predator might have trouble, should any know of his kind. It was likely that they would have some knowledge; sailors had ever been a superstitious lot, and this was a crew from Russia, close enough to his home to have heard tales aplenty. Ten days ago, they had left the port at Varna, heading to Whitby.
How My Life Changed Over 2020/21
Allow me to preface this by stating that this is my own experience over the last couple of disastrous years, and I know full well that others have had it far, far worse, even losing their livelihoods or dying over the time period that I'm exploring.
The Wheel of Time Turns
The fantasy genre has exploded in the wake of the release of the Lord of the Rings trilogy in cinemas, compounded by Game of Thrones, even if most are less than enthused about the way that particular show ended. There are an awful lot of fantasy worlds out there, all lovingly crafted by their creators. The world of the Sword of Truth series, Midkemia of the Riftwar Saga, Shannara, Middle Earth, Earthsea, Roshar and the rest of the Cosmere. The worlds of Athas, Krynn, Eberron, Toril and the like from various roleplaying systems such as Dungeons & Dragons. So many worlds, all with their own rules and creatures and magic systems and characters and factions. But we aren’t going to discuss any of these, instead we will focus on the world of Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time series. Given the fact that the first season of the Wheel of Time series is due to be released in November of this year, and the fact that it is my personal favourite story, I feel that the timing is right for this.
I love my job because it gives me the freedom to do what I want, when I want to do it. I am an author. However, I publish independently. This has several distinct advantages, as well as a few disadvantages. The only person to hassle me about my deadlines is myself, the only ones that I have to answer to at all in fact are my two most fluffy and excellent feline mistresses, and they're happy with some food and a scritch behind the ears most days.
Baby drew nearer the frozen pond. She poked it with a finger, bending low to do so. Laura watched on with an amused expression, Postie and the guards ignored the two of them as they hooded and hitched the Dead. They’d made it to their next stop, a small town that had not seen much traffic even pre-apocalypse. They were welcomed warmly enough by the locals, Barbra supposed, as they flooded out to usher them inside their walls.
A Cure For Boredom
The jewel pulsed, sending glowing ripples of an eerie green hue out into the world. Imperceptible to normal eyesight, only visible to he who set the enchantment; the necromancer smiled to himself slightly. The end would come for the town soon enough, the villagers would be torn limb from limb by the undead.
Looking through the scope of his high-powered rifle, he moved not a muscle. His prey, one of the larger beasts he had witnessed since finding himself alone in this strange new land, was covered in a coarse, brown fur. The thing stood upon hind legs, waving four other limbs about, seemingly conducting an invisible (and silent) orchestra. He knew that it hadn’t seen him, it couldn’t possibly have; his training as a sniper had been extensive. He knew how to appear as a stone, or a branch of a tree, blending into whatever terrain he found himself.