We are excited to announce that our second anthology will release April 30th! The Season Two: Stories That Sing anthology includes: 31 winning stories from our second season (July-December 2019) exclusive stories by our Featured Authors: Carla Hoch, Morgan L. Busse, Kat Heckenbach, and Jill Williamson exclusive stories by our Featured Staff: Andrew Winch, Teddi Deppner, Lisa Godfrees, RonnellRead it now
S2 - Stories That Sing
The release date for Season Two’s Stories That Sing anthology draws ever closer. To celebrate, we have a treat for you! Not only do we get to introduce you to another Season Two Featured Author, but we get to let you in on a little secret… she also created the fantastic art that we’re usingRead it now
It hardly qualified as a graveyard. Nineteen graves in a single row, no fence, no road, no flowers. The foliage grew unchecked. Raw boulders from the nearby stream served as tombstones. They didn’t need markings, for each grave contained the same person.
A sheen of fresh rain coated every mossy branch and shrub. Fog hung low against the leaf-strewn earth.Read it now
Something happened today, and if Papa finds out…
He can’t know.
He can’t know I have Voices.
When I first heard the murmurs early this morning, I almost jumped out of bed and ran to tell him. I’m lucky I caught myself. If he knew his apprentice—his own son—was a Voicer… I already disappoint him enough.
I dive from the rooftop just before a second blast sends another explosion of bricks bursting from the building’s exterior.
Above me, Captain Tremendous shouts, “Kid, get out of there. Now.”
No need to tell me twice. I leap from the fire escape to the balcony to the rooftop to a higher rooftop where my mentor stands waiting, his red cape flowing in the night breeze. The initials “CT” shimmer across his chest. At his feet, my assailant is already tied up in CT’s signature coils. Boy, he’s fast.
“You knew this day would come. Why did you insist we stay?”
Wilson pretended to load his gun. He had far more potent weapons at his disposal, but he needed the excuse to avoid Maria’s accusing gaze.
Outside, hideous shadows danced on the window, the first visible evidence of the approaching mob. Glass shattered. Screams.
Rank upon rank, we stand ready.
Faces set and stern, wings unfurled, eyes locked forward, swords at our sides—though they will dance like flames in our hands at the first sign of trouble. We have seen battle, terrible and costly, against ruthless enemies. We will leap into combat again, if threatened, if met with resistance.
But that is not our mission.
A grating roar shook the earth as if the apocalypse had just dropped a mixtape featuring cat yowls and broken dreams.
The dust bunnies bounced away in terror, desperately searching for hard-to-reach corners to hide from the Terror Which Is the Vacuum Cleaner. Spencer shivered in fear. A massive pair of slippered feet trudged slowly across the carpet, pushing the tool of destruction closer and closer toward the bed.
Circuits humming, he calmly plotted his next move. There. Jepedo leaned across the table; arms too short to reach while seated and set his bishop down in front of his opponent’s king. “Checkmate.”
Father studied the board. Running a hand over his thinning hairline, he sighed. “You win again, my boy.” He smiled at Jepedo.Read it now
Aba was gone.
I massaged my temples to clear my thoughts. He’d be back in a week from the old country after clearing up some marriage paperwork. I had to keep busy.
I picked up my purse to leave when a man stumbled in.
He was as unkempt and golden as my Aba was groomed and dark. His long, greasy tresses draped across his shoulders. His clothes, ripped and dirty, barely hung on his gaunt frame
His mottled hands shook as Viktor Engel etched characters into the damp earthen brow. “The good book says it took a word to create the world, eh?” He shuffled back a few steps, flicking the scrapings from his cracked nailbeds. “Not bad. Not bad at all.” A smile crept across his face, deepening crevices under his grizzled beard.Read it now