All Short Stories

Here are a few of my stories, with links to where you can read them online or buy them if offline.

	Acceptable Suitors - Available to read online.	Acceptable Suitors The faint sound of battle was dying away behind us as we approached the safety of Redfern village. Women and children struggled up the hill behind my horse as our single guard scouted ahead to the valley below. “Heading straight to the chapel, milady?” Polly asked from my right. Covered in mud from our midnight flight, no-one would have recognised her as a noble lady’s maid. Or me as a noble lady, for that matter.
	Cage the Beast - Available to read online.	Cage The Beast Day 1: The scent of blood in her nostrils, the feel of flesh shredding between her claws. Bliss raises her head to the moon and shouts of her joy, a long rippling howl ululating between the tall buildings. The pregnant moon pulls at the darkness in her, her anguished cries the only form of worship she knows. Dropping her muzzle, she sniffs at the cooling bodies lying at her feet, long tongue lapping at the blood pooling beneath them. A mere sip of their life to keep in her perfect memory, nothing more. She has no need to feed on these pathetic creatures, the only urge is to run and chase and catch. Each kill attains her shuddering release. But it’s almost too easy for her; humans move as if dipped in treacle and they have no idea that she’s there. A slender, golden shadow, not much larger than an Alsatian, she challenges herself by only killing bad men. Scoundrels. If she’s sure of it, the darkness within them, then they die.
	Childhood Monsters - Coming soon.	Childhood Monsters The tin shacks have slippery roofs, but her claws dig into the slick metal, providing ample grip as she dances along. Smoke from numerous cooking fires struggles to mask the scent of so many humans crammed into such a small place. Drawing in a lungful of cleaner air from on high, she holds her breath as she dips down to the ground. It’s worth fighting through the smell for this kind of reward. The best are these young children, with sparkling white teeth that are perfect for her needs. Not that she’s allowed to ignore the other children scattered around the world, of course she does her duty, but she permits herself favourites. Like these pearly white little beauties. The leather bag at her hip chimes in time with her movement, a musical accompaniment to her work. It’s almost full and she glances up to the moon, pregnant and filling the sky. October. And with the stars aligned the way they are – soon then. Just time for one more molar, then she’ll be on her way home to change. Perhaps an incisor. If she’s quick.
	Communication - Available to read online.	Communication The rain pounds against the pavement as I stride towards the office, my blouse soaked almost see-through and high-heels sticking in the cracks of the pavement. Keeping my head down, I dance between cars fighting to move. My goal – the office door – is in sight, when a black wall steps in front of me. “Hello.” I look up, my hand shielding my face from the rain. Tall, blue eyes and a scruffy blond mane; Chris – my lead programmer and, in my opinion, the cutest guy in the office. He’s tilting his umbrella towards me with one eyebrow raised. I mentally inventory myself; bedraggled hair, running mascara and peep-show shirt. Damn.
	Letters From the Dead anthology – Available to buy from amazon.com or amazon.co.uk	My Darling, I’m so sorry, but I have some bad news. I’m afraid one of them bit my leg. My own fault, I was so silly, concentrating on pumping the water and I didn’t hear it shuffling up behind me in the yard. My hearing is going, and my old legs aren’t as fast as they used to be. I’ve locked myself in the cellar and will push this note under the door in a moment. I do hope it’s legible, the light is very faint.
	Mission Six – Available to buy in magazine form, or as a PDF.	Mission Six The day before Kage Kazumi comes back from the dead, she focuses more on saving her team than on completing the mission – but if luck stays on her side, she might manage both. She’s sweating hard, her armour is too heavy, and her arm feels numb from her shoulder to her fingertips. She’s struggling to hold an injured Sarge upright, despite his protests, and her upper limb is almost dead from the weight. Her left hand wavers as she holds her pistol out in front, but she keeps herself moving through sheer force of will. Fry stalks beside her, a slender shadow holding his sniper rifle to his shoulder, scope scanning the distant shadows for an ambush. It’s barely dawn and they’re all exhausted and covered with wounds. Sarge is the worst, a raxirian pirate managed to cut through his shields into his thigh. Sarge’s automated antibiotics have kicked in, but he’s already running a fever and his breathing sounds harsh over the intercom. They’re low on ammo, and they’re still only partway towards escaping the two kilometre long ravaged ship. “One minute until complete loss of orbit,” a mechanised voice blares over the ships speakers.
	Mother India – Available to read online.	Mother India Enlightenment was disappointing. Bella Cooper might have been born into an ordinary white English household, but she always knew in her heart that deep down, she was Indian. Yet Bella had been in the country for almost three weeks and still not felt that vital spark ignite her spirit. She’d expected something to have moved her as soon as her feet had touched ground – but the airport was all pollution and noise – nothing spiritual about it. She’d chanted at a Buddhist temple, watched the vultures flying above the towers of silence and salaamed towards Mecca more than once – yet nirvana felt as out of reach as always. In fact, she’d been told that swatting a fly in front of a Jain prayer hall had probably ‘moved her soul further away from divine consciousness’. Not that she could take the man seriously – it was just a bloody fly!
	Oracle Buy Orbital Hearts now for your: UK Kindle US Kindle Nook	Oracle White sails move like swans across a pond, the huge ships reduced to specks by the distance. Persephone leans out further on the ledge, peering down at the azure water as it flows into the canals encircling the city. It’s transparent, even from her high tower she sees the sandy bottom of the bay crawling with life. To the east, fishermen haul a tiger shark onto the dock. Even dead, the magnificent creature is almost too much for them, they struggle to pull it from their boat. Sound doesn’t carry up the hill, but she watches the men celebrating their luck, hands rising in thanks to Poseidon as blood mixes with seawater at their feet. Scanning the horizon, she spots her quarry. Tall, even by Atlantean standards, the warship is built from a dark oak, rather than the local wood that glows like gold in the sunlight. The sails are unfurled, pulling the ship towards the closest guard tower at lightning speed. As the ship passes beneath the girl’s window, Persephone sees a beautiful maiden, holding aloft a trident in her right hand that decorates the prow.
	Our Father’s Eyes – Available to listen or to read online.	Our Fathers Eyes Fluffed up blonde hair, baby blue eyes and lips red like the cherry she still has, Britney’s working that street corner as if she’s been doing it for years. Fifteen going on twenty, she has the pimps wrapped around her finger so we can stake out this spot no trouble. My best friend since infant school, she’s always been the leader, she doesn’t feel the fear that crawls in my gut. She sticks out a skinny hip and wiggles at a lone car as it cruises past, swinging her bulky shoulder bag like a flag. The streetlight flickers, illuminating the broken down houses, the street littered with rubbish. Peeling posters decorate the brick walls, photos of missing children with lank hair and dead eyes – a black triangle symbol sprayed over them, a red five inside the shape. Another car crawls past, slithering like a slug, the driver not liking what we’re selling. Rainbow neon disguises the colour, but not the age. Rust drips, a geriatric skin disease. Everything here is old, except us. Britney turns her back, heading to the woman standing further round the corner. Mercedes reminds me of my doll, Pointy-Tits Barbie, I used to call her. Until I met Mer, I never believed a woman could have boobs that shape. It’s all I can do to keep my gaze on her face. “Bum a smoke, Mercedes?” Britney holds up her hand and flicks it like a trigger. Sparks fly into the sky. “I can light it myself.”
	The Many Deaths of Johnny Silver – Available to read online.	The Many Deaths of Johnny Silver Annie Tong (The Tong Sisters 1940-1960): Johnny Silver? Now there was a man. Everyone loved Johnny. Well, ‘cept that clown who killed him, of course. Claude Wolfe (Wolfman Stunts 1966-present): The way I heard it, Terry, the old elephant keeper, he told me that they found Johnny strung up in the Top, hanging from the trapeze like Jesus on the cross. Arms spread, head hanging low, he’d been done in. Chappie Quick (Quick Trapeze 1942-1968): Both our families have worked the Bear Family Circus for generations, so me and Johnny grew up together. Even as a kid, he was the centre of attention, the biggest, the smartest, the most handsome. All the girls loved him. He was born to be under the big top. When he started in the ring, well, that was when the gadjes truly fell in love with him. Gadjes? Oh you know, people from outside, the customers. You.
	Flash Fiction – bite sized chunks of yum.	Tattoo Isolation