Havok Publishing

Science Fiction

Revenge is Icing on the Cake

“Contestants moving to the final round of Galactic Best Bakers are…!”
The host, a green strellcat, paused dramatically.
Spotlights swirled then froze on the contestants, glaring right in Jareth’s eyes.
Jareth had watched every episode of the last three seasons of this, the most popular show in the civilized universe. Research was…

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Demon Eggs

Saturday night in the World Capital Hospital’s Emergency Department is often full of surprises. Maybe the biggest came when Earth’s President, Derek Percy, was wheeled in strapped to a gurney after trying to claw his own face off. As the chief resident of the Emergency Department, it fell to me to investigate.

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Plop Plop, Fizz Fizz

It smelled like apricot. Actually, more like an apricot that had been left on the counter for a month, and then shoved in the corner of the fruit drawer, where ethylene gas had rotted a month’s worth of produce.
Dr. Daniel Leslie stood in the science building at Blaylock University after receiving…

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A Feast of Rats

The rats are disappearing.
Hart Street had the biggest infestation in London. We knew that before we moved in—it’s why the house came at such a low price. But we needed somewhere to lay low, so I assured the Professor we could deal with it. I’ve dealt with worse.
Still, my skin still crawled

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Green

Holding up the emerald dress, I knew it wouldn’t fit. Still, I slipped it over my head. The fabric clung to my shoulders like plastic wrap.
Nope. I tugged the garment back off.
When I’d been fitted for the bridesmaid’s dress, I’d been bone-thin with knobby knees and elbows. Thankfully, that was no longer the case.

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For Waffles

Let the stars be my witnesses: I, Kepler, would do everything in my power to get a waffle.
The sweet, cinnamony scent of the breakfast delicacy wafted through the starship’s hallways and down to my workstation. Ever since Aurora had joined our motley crew, I’d enjoyed the immense pleasure of taste-testing every culinary

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Skylights

Skyships weren’t made to be durable. Any wind-wise pilot knew their vessel was subject to rot and decay, gravity and age. The trick was flying smart to avoid disaster—from both inside and out.
Much like a skyship himself, Redge Galloway, lighthouse-keeper of the northmost cliffs, creaked in every decaying joint on the cusp

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The Celestial Portal

I stormed up the narrow stair toward the storm-battered castle, the biting sea wind spurring me on.
“Princess, please wait!” my guard, Alloy, called.
Hearing my preferred title only stoked the fire.
The next stair crumbled beneath my boot, and I pitched sideways into open air. The world spun. I caught sight

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Life Choices

Must. Have. Coffee.
I slog to the counter of Out of This World Café, a hundred pounds of textbooks working to dislocate my shoulders. A briefcase-wielding businessman carries his travel mug to a table near a green-skinned group of tourists from planet Gleesa.
“Bring me all the caffeine, Liz.” I give the gorgeous barista

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The Archivist

You nearly fall through the door of the ship’s command deck but manage to catch yourself against the back of the empty copilot’s chair.
“Hop in.” The pilot doesn’t look at you, dark eyes fixed on the controls.
“I-I’m an archivist.” Still, the chair is probably safer than standing when the ship’s this unsteady.

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Submissians are the Worst!

A Garangian paladin is intimidating. His armor has spikes and hooks and even gives off an eerie phosphorescent glow in the dark. The emperor wouldn’t have it any other way. He knew any conquered alien who might dare to fight his paladins would take one look at a Garangian’s helmet

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Structural Edits

I’ve been caught.
No, only Meg noticed.
I reach for a new binder of case files. That inconsequential proofreader knows better than to report my errors.
Pen in hand, I skim the first file, spotting the typo underlined in red. Before I can process the information, the tech in my brain corrects any trace…

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