Hey, it's not a holiday season without an obligatory "Buy My Work!" post from an author. I swear it's in the contracts we sign in blood with our publishers...somewhere...I seem to have misplaced them.

Oh, I think I remember where...

In 2015, I added two new opportunities to purchase my work, which is one way of saying some very lovely people agreed to include me in their collections -- some even paid me for it! One is a short story in a magazine and one is a contribution to a cookbook...a cookbook with quite illustrious co-contributors from the Speculative Fiction galaxy. Being a member of a professional organization comes with some perks, just sayin'.

Consider this my purchasable compendium, reverse chronological order! Collect all five! And come this time next year, there will be a novel to add to this list, one way or another...

1. Ad Astra: The 50th Anniversary SFWA Cookbook

Fran Wilde and Cat Rambo edited this collection of 150+ recipes from speculative fiction authors of the past, present, and maybe even future. In it, you can find my Seared Peaches with Prosciutto and Basil; it comes with high acclaim from the NC Research Triangle area spec fic community. Purchase the cookbook from the SFWA website here or from Amazon.

2. "Thlush-A-Lum" in PULP Literature Issue #5

"Thlush-A-Lum" is pure horror that would qualify as flash fiction in most markets. The story came about when I challenged myself to write something more focused on the sense of sound than the other four I more commonly use in my writing. Many of those sounds are inspired by what I could hear from my own Southern bedroom window…and a few sounds that I swear I’ve been able to hear no matter where I’ve lived.

Purchase Issue #5 from the PULP Literature website or from Amazon.

3. "Blow 'Em Down" from Beneath Ceaseless Skies Double Anniversary Issue #131

"Blow 'Em Down" is the story I describe as a steampunk retelling of the Battle of Jericho with a jazzy feel circa Harlem Renaissance. It's been taught in a college class and brought me some of my highest compliments, so I certainly think it's worth the read. Beneath Ceaseless Skies is not available in print, but the e-magazine can be purchased through Weightless Books or on Amazon.

4. "Bother" in Bull Spec #5

"Bother" was the cover story for Bull Spec #5, and I'm honored to this day that the highly regarded Richard Case chose to illustrate it. It's urban fantasy about how a couple survives, or doesn't, when a dragon comes to roost on their city block. Luckily, there appears to still be back issues of Bull Spec available, although the magazine has shifted to a web-only presence. Order Issue #5 here or an e-version from Weightless Books here.

5. Maya's Vacation

The contemporary romance novella I never expected write, Maya's Vacation came to be in a dream about frying chicken, and I fleshed that dream out into the story of a woman in her fifties rediscovering herself after a divorce and relearning what she used to love through food, paint, and an old flame returned. Maya's Vacation, published by Clean Reads, is available on Amazon. Warning: No sex scenes in this romance! Just unrequited longing. Or is it requited? I'll never tell.

I may also mention that anything you buy that features my work is a gift to me as well -- word of tongue can only spread after eyes on the page have done their business. Of course, I also have plenty of fiction free to read online as well -- just click over to the Creative section to find it. Thank you for your support, and I hope to keep entertaining you in the future. I'm pretty sure I'll have some snippets to share by the end of next week as well...

Happy holidays, from me and Ben!

Just a reminder, dear readers, that my most recently published short story is available for free online at Beneath Ceaseless Skies. It's comes up in conversation several times lately, so I thought a reminder was due. "Blow 'Em Down" is a steampunk retelling of the battle of Jericho from the perspective of a brass band pressed to take part in the effort to break the city's glass dome. For me, it's about how past wounds can blind us to the ways we dehumanize others and how faith doesn't count until you make it your own.   Here are the first three paragraphs:

From our brass band’s vantage point at the Gilgal plains, the glass dome was impenetrable. An immense central copper tube supported it, using a full city block for its foundation and generating energy for the whole town by absorbing the sun rays trapped within the glass. One skygate operated through the top of the dome, opening only to let merchant airships and their escorts in and out. The ships floated by so high, we could barely make out what was seared into their taut material: giant brands bearing profiles of the cityscape. The same image, embossed in a black pattern, circumnavigated the dome’s bottom edge. A single word in bold typeset appeared above each repetition:  Jericho.

They never sent so much as a volley our way. Who could blame them? We looked a sorry mess after forty years spent crossing the desert, but we were many. Forty days our parents had been told, but as it turned out, solar-powered chariots don’t work so well in the desert. The salt from the Red Sea air had rusted most of their steel frames within days of the crossing, leaving us with only a handful, and those were barely powerful enough to raise one person off the sand at a time. Then there was the pillar of smoke blocking out half the sky. Little sun meant less energy for our solar cells to regenerate. When the pillar lit up like a fireball that forgot to fly at night, we tried to mine the heat, but we never could get the calibrations right.

“The pillar will lead us into the Promised Land. It is Yahweh’s own guide.” That’s how Moses had explained it when it first appeared, before I was ever born. The old geezer had keeled over about a month ago. Paps laughed out loud when he heard, but his heart burst mid-guffaw, and he keeled over, too. Three days later, we crossed the Jordan.

Read the rest of the story here

If any of you happen to be Hugo voters (last day to sign up to become one is this Friday), I would love you to read "Blow 'Em Down" to consider it for a nomination. It is eligible for this year's award season, and nominations are open until March 31. I will refer you to this great post at Beneath Ceaseless Skies that details everything involved if you would like to become a voter or you need to know how to go about making nominations.

I am thrilled to announce that you can now read my steampunk retelling of the Battle of Jericho, "Blow 'Em Down," in Beneath Ceaseless Skies Special 5th Anniversary Double Issue #151!

The full text of the story is now available on BCS's website for free, along with the rest of the fantastic stories in the issue. On that page, you will find download links for all e-reader types that you can also use to acquire the issue for free.

Of course, I would encourage you to purchase the issue for your e-readers because I think it's worthwhile to support good art, and I hope you will think "Blow 'Em Down" qualifies as good art. If you agree, you can make that wallet-busting $0.99 purchase at Amazon or at Weightless Books.

And now for your teaser,

From our brass band’s vantage point at the Gilgal plains, the glass dome was impenetrable. An immense central copper tube supported it, using a full city block for its foundation and generating energy for the whole town by absorbing the sun rays trapped within the glass. One skygate operated through the top of the dome, opening only to let merchant airships and their escorts in and out. The ships floated by so high, we could barely make out what was seared into their taut material: giant brands bearing profiles of the cityscape. The same image, embossed in a black pattern, circumnavigated the dome’s bottom edge. A single word in bold typeset appeared above each repetition:  Jericho.

They never sent so much as a volley our way. Who could blame them? We looked a sorry mess after forty years spent crossing the desert, but we were many. Forty days our parents had been told, but as it turned out, solar-powered chariots don’t work so well in the desert. The salt from the Red Sea air had rusted most of their steel frames within days of the crossing, leaving us with only a handful, and those were barely powerful enough to raise one person off the sand at a time. Then there was the pillar of smoke blocking out half the sky. Little sun meant less energy for our solar cells to regenerate. When the pillar lit up like a fireball that forgot to fly at night, we tried to mine the heat, but we never could get the calibrations right.

Again, you can read the rest of "Blow 'Em Down" right here.