The Hotel Fen Archives, Vol. 1

Hotel Fen is an urban fantasy Norse mythology based new adult novel with its own original songs, videogame influences, lots of wolves, and a touch of star-crossed romance. It's my debut novel with Meri Benson, with the audiobook narrated by Rebecca Lemke.

Below are the some of the accompanying short pieces I wrote for the collective universe. Like most of my shorts, these were written in response to prompt challenges - and for this set, all the prompts were bugs. (Don't worry, I'm sparing everyone the gruesome details and not putting any pictures, but feel free to check out the links if you like danger. 😉)

MORE ATTRACTIVE THAN THE ORCHIDS

Prompt: Mantis Orchid. Found in the rainforests of Southeast Asia, this species looks undeniably like an orchid. Its hind pairs of legs are greatly flattened and heart-shaped, looking uncannily like petals. Many smaller insects find these mantises even more attractive than the orchids they mimic.

“No.”

Loki huffed. “For this plan to work, someone has to be the bride.”

Thor started to open his mouth, but Vidar gave him a withering stare. Then he directed his disapproving gaze at Loki. “And who put you in charge, Loki?”

Loki’s grin was large and wolf-like. “Should you wish to lodge a complaint, you must speak directly to your father.” That, he knew, was going to stop the boys from whining. No one really wanted to deal with Odin these days. According to the rumors even Frigg was ready to leave him, and the Allfather’s wife had the patience of a Norn.

“You cannot make me wear a dress. A dress!” Thor glared at his half-brother, his face growing as red as his hair. “It is not my fault Mjolnir is lost.”

Vidar was impressively poker faced. “I do not know what you are talking about.” He was getting good at lying. He could only hope Heimdall wouldn’t out him.

HUMAN CADAVER STUDIES

Prompt: Scorpion Fly. This terrifying insect certainly looks like something out of a horror movie. If their appearance isn’t enough to give you nightmares, maybe this fact will: this fly’s interest in human corpses have assisted scientists in human cadaver studies.

“Do the dead Dream?”

Hel watched her Queen smash the head of an opposing Pawn with her massive axe. The chess pieces were made from bone, but their blades were live steel. She glanced across the board at the image of her brother, her lips on the unmarred side of her face turning up into a ghost of a smile. “Who wants to know?”

The Queen spun around and decapitated the Bishop that tried to sneak up on her.

Fenris was lounging like he had all the time in the world, though he could never quite muster their father’s carefree demeanor. There was a tension in his shoulders even as he shrugged and tried to appear nonchalant. “Just curious.” He was in human form today, his blond hair framing his handsome face and roguish grin. The Midgardians liked that look, his sister knew.

“What are you planning, brother?” Hel’s attention was not on their chess game anymore. The remaining pieces launched into a melee soon after, with Fenris’ army being decimated first. Then the Queen hacked off her own comrades’ heads.

Fenris grunted. He could never win against his sister, no matter what the game. “A better means to track them down.”

“Scrying has not worked?” A not-so-subtle jab. Did he really think she wouldn’t know that he was working with someone outside of the family?

His expression tightened. “No, it has not.”

Hel took the Queen’s axe and picked her nails with it. “Come visit then, little brother. Let me show you how the dead Dream.”

DEFENSE MECHANISM

Prompt: Brahmin Moth Caterpillar. This particular caterpillar resembles something altogether alien. Their tentacle like spindles reaching up from the abdomen serve as a (likely very effective) defense mechanism.

The baby twisted in her crib like she was some sort of caterpillar, and the motion looked uncomfortable. Painful, even. Though it wasn’t until her spine protruded through her semi-translucent skin, making the ridges uncannily visible, that Hel stepped back, aghast. She’d seen something similar before, and her heart sank at the realization. “She’s a shapechanger too.”

Loki, however, simply picked up his infant child and cradled her to his chest, cooing softly. It was a display of gentleness that only his family ever saw. “My beautiful girl.”

“He’ll want her gone,” Hel said in a small, trembling voice.

“I know.”

“You can’t let it happen.”

The Trickster pressed a kiss to his baby’s forehead. “I know.”

THE GOD OF UGLY THINGS

Prompt: Giant Weta. Resembling a large cricket, the giant weta species are among the largest and heaviest insects in the world. The name weta comes from the Maori word wetapunga, meaning “god of ugly things."

“You should not be here.”

Baldr looked up wearily at his twin brother. “I could say the same to you.”

Hlidskjalf, the seat upon which Odin could gaze at all the Realms, was made for two, and Hodr lowered himself into the empty space with a snort. The smell of mead was already strong in his breath, yet the evening’s feast had barely started. “Father would not be pleased to find out that you are spending the night gawking at your inheritance.”

“I am not gawking.” Baldr should be exasperated, but he only sounded tired. “I merely wanted some peace and quiet,” he added pointedly.

Hodr snorted again. “All the attention and adulation is still not enough for you?” The alcohol slurred some of his words, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Baldr could hear the jealousy and resentment in his brother’s tone, and he did not like that. He’d had to deal with everyone else’s already.

“I would trade places, if that were at all possible.”

“We cannot change who we are, brother. You are the heir, and I am the spare.”

Baldr bristled, and he shifted sharply to face his twin, blue eyes glinting with bottled rage. “Do you think I chose any of this?” No, not anger. Sorrow. He was the light of the Aesir, the shining heir to Asgard and all the Worlds… yet he wanted no part of it. Everything he did, everything he had to do for their father and for their family, it made him deeply unhappy. Not even his promised future, a rule of prosperity and peace, comforted him. “I would rather have nothing.”

“Speak not your heart,” Hodr cautioned, and when he met his brother’s gaze, his eyes were surprisingly sober. Then he glanced at the shadows of the World Tree, at what looked like two small, strangely bent leaves. The ravens. “They are always listening.”