One of the perks of being a writer is being friends with other writers.
I don’t say that sarcastically. Sure, some writers are a squirmy sack of ass-hats, but for the most part? Writers are actually really, really cool people. We’re a theoretically solitary bunch — I for one am an introvert playing the role of extrovert — but that means when we get together we often grok each other, too. And so, I’m lucky to get to hang out with other writers and actually have writers who are genuine, bona fide, motherfucking legit friends. It means I get to write a comic with a groovy dude like Adam Christopher. It means I get to share a series with a bad-ass like Stephen Blackmoore.
It went like this:
The three of us were in the desert last year, tripping balls on mescaline tabs that we dissolved in cheap tequila, and we had just fought the Coyote King — not the Bolivian drug-runner but rather, the actual mythological King of All Coyotes — and then the Cactus Angels rose up out of the dry and dusty earth and roared in their collective, crackling voice —
You know what? That’s a story for another time.
Suffice to say, when we woke up in the morning covered in blood and coyote hair, Hearne said: “I am really hankering for a hunk of cheese.” And Delilah mumbled, “We should do a short fiction anthology loosely themed around cheese.” And I was all like, “Wuzza booza muzza wuh.” And then we all had a good laugh before going out to eat tacos.
The result of that wild vision quest will soon be before you.
I give you:
Three novellas/novelettes/novellinis or whatever the hell they are.
One Iron Druid story from Kevin Hearne: “A Prelude to War.”
One Blud story from Delilah: “Not My Circus, Not My Monkeys.”
And one new Miriam Black story from me: “Interlude: Swallow.”
The official description is:
A Prelude to War by Kevin Hearne
After an old friend is murdered in retaliation for his mercenary strikes against the oldest vampires in the world, Atticus O’Sullivan must solicit the aid of another old friend in Ethiopia if he’s going to have a chance of finishing a war he never wanted. Meanwhile, Granuaile MacTiernan starts a private war of her own against Loki, the lord of lies, and if it brings Ragnarok early—so be it.
Not My Circus, Not My Monkeys by Delilah S. Dawson
The number one rule of the circus? Don’t kill your volunteers, even accidentally. That’s how young magician Criminy Stain ends up on the run in a forest, where he meets a beautiful woman holding a bucket of blood. But is Merissa the answer to his prayers — or the orchestrator of his ruin?
Interlude: Swallow by Chuck Wendig
Miriam Black is back. Miriam is tired of her curse and finally believes she knows how to be rid of her ability to see when and how other people die. She follows a lead to the mountains of Colorado, where she sees signs of a serial killer she thought she had already killed. (Set between THE CORMORANT and THUNDERBIRD.)
Not only did we write these stories, but we also got a cover and interior illustrations by the ever-mighty and wonderpants artist, Galen Dara (who also did work on my earlier novella, The Forever Endeavor — which, by the way, is free to read.)
Also, since I like you guys a whole lot, I’m going to show you Galen Dara’s Miriam Black art:
Holy shit, I know, right?
Also: Galen has made prints available of the collection’s illustrations at her Etsy store.
The collection lands on May 5th.
But you can preorder it now in e-book and audio:
Please to enjoy, folks.