First Lines

Stealing an idea from something I heard on one of Connooga’s panels. I’ve got so many pieces in the works right now that I’ll share the first paragraph from each, instead of trying to summarize or provide excerpts. Feel free to leave feedback if you wish!

Crossed Genres: Browncoats: Redemption (article)

Anti-heroes maintain a special place in the reader’s heart. Flawed, annoying, a dark and dangerous counterpart to the shiny-faced hero, they reach into the grab-bag and pull out all the things the heroes are really scared of. They often teach us more about ourselves, more about life and the conflicts therein than do the shiny, clean Supermen of fiction.

I Called You Beautiful, a ghost story for Drollerie Press’s upcoming anthology.

“And here we have Ellen.” The tour guides taps on the glass. “Who can tell me what Ellen is?”
An excited fifth-grader raised his hand, nearly bouncing on his tip-toes. “I can, I can!”
“What is she, Billy?”
“She’s the last ghost!” said Billy.

Songs of Salt: How a Siren Lost Her Wings, for another Drollerie anthology.

Listen to my heart-break tale, to my songs of salt. Listen to the hidden desires of your soul, weary traveler. Stay here, stay and listen to me sing, for none know you as I do.
Stay, gentle soul. Stay with me. I am lonely, you are lonely, let us be lonely together. My song will be your drink, my words, your food. I will be your passion, and you will be my Muse.

America’s Highway, a near-future dystopian horror from the Absent Earth world. (original work)

The first fleet broke down without warning. Blocking five miles of America’s Highway, they sat in smoldering ruin and slowly ate themselves from the inside out, rotting, rusting, fire. The men inside beat their hands against the windows and doors as the same things ate them.

Haven, a horror/fantasy novel.

Squalling birds flurried through the sky, some winging frantically towards freedom, others falling to the earth. Choked by ash and dust, livestock stampeded with the deer and wolves. Behind them roared a black sky. Towering columns of fire and ash licked up into the storm, drawn by reckless tornadoes.


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