Havok Publishing

Fantasy

The Samurai and the Tanuki

Netsu wiggled deeper into the ferns surrounding a momiji tree and tugged at the orange and red fabric of his haori. Maybe if he burned the fabric with his bearing gift, he wouldn’t have to go in this—What was the right word for this garish garb?
“Shiny.”
Netsu spun around, coming face-to-face with…

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Flight of the Fairy Tale King

They said the Fairy Tale King had gone mad.
The courtiers, led by King Ludwig’s Uncle Luitpold, didn’t bother to contain their disgust anymore. They sneered when Ludwig passed, mocked him and his ideas. They whispered that his grandest creation, Neuschwanstein Castle, was nothing more than a showcase for his lunacy.

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The Wild Musicians of Bremen

I may look like the average Weimaraner, but I play a mean violin. I pick the strings, Scratch strums her zither, and Blizzard keeps time with his hooves. The sun sets on the horizon. Our animal band wraps up another day of jamming together in our overgrown, dilapidated cottage.
I sniff and…

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No Matter the Cost

Ty watched his wife pause beneath the ferns, face tilted toward the leafy canopy above. After taking a selfie in front of Blarney Castle, Beth had been more interested in exploring the surrounding gardens than standing in line to kiss the Blarney Stone. After all, who knew how many people had kissed that rock?

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Raðljóst

I shuddered as a troll’s roar filled the air. Ocean spray slicked the deck, causing me to slip. I ducked under the swinging fist of another troll, barely visible in the night. My heart drummed against my chest.
We were dead men.
Three hulking trolls surrounded our ship, gripping the masts and…

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Perdita Danville, Gorgon Slayer

Miss Perdita Danville crept along the moonlit heath, trailing the large, fluffy cow that guided her, its rope clenched in her fist. A bag of dead mice dangled from her belt. With a sword buckled at her waist and her pocket mirror safe in her travelling coat pocket, she was more than suitably armed

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De Muziekdoos

AMSTERDAM 1857
Ash impersonated the falling of snow as night wrapped its overbearing arms around Amsterdam. This shouldn’t have been happening.
Flowers should have been blooming. Tourists, strolling the marketplace. Festivals, lighting up the city. But none of that was happening.
All because I’d opened that music box.
And now, I had to close

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The Dragon of Ghent

Ding-a-ling. Ding-a-ling-a-ling.
Sofie scowled, set down the new display plaque, and rubbed her ears. This was the seventh night in a row now, and she couldn’t focus with the strange, inconsistent ringing. Some quiet would be nice. She glared at the various bells arranged on display blocks or hanging from black ribbons.

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The Cement City

Terrific. They spotted me.
Rebecca floored the accelerator as the car in front of her rounded a corner. Fortunately, most of Athens’ boulevards stretched straight a considerable distance, allowing her to race forward. And at one a.m., she didn’t have to contend with traffic.
Rebecca’s electric-blue Ford Puma jumped to one-hundred-twenty kilometers per hour.

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The New Librarian

I flapped my wings, soaring into the clouds. The sun felt glorious warming my scales. Mountains spread below, among them the labyrinthian castle complex of the Infinite Library. Broad skylights glowed in the sunlight.
Suddenly I was inside, still in dragon form. I tried to sort a stack of books, but I kept clawing…

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This Thing Called Ciabatta Bread

Gaul,47 BC
Scents of olive oil and flour tickle my nose as I set up my bread stand. Caesar’s statue rises above me, a constant reminder of who’s in charge. That I can never escape those who are always watching. I send a prayer to the gods thanking them for the coolness of the

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Those Unseen

She’s not there. I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly. When I reopened them, the beaked creature still beckoned to me from behind our masonry stove, her clawed hand frantic. Sighing, I stared pointedly at my knitting. She’s not there.
Only, I knew she was.
I just had no idea why no one else

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