Havok Story Podcast: Episode 30
Havok Story Podcast, Episode 30: “The Storm Horse” By Abigail Falanga
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The Red Chord
Bahar stared down into the multilayered concourse and slammed her fist against the rails. Where is he?
Spinning around, she ran slap into a man’s chest.
Vrill.
A shudder shook Bahar and she ducked her head and attempted a hasty sidestep. “’Scuse me.”
Vrill grabbed her arm and grinned.
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Sustenance for the Day
“These are the practices we must observe,” Master Yvear said. “Neglect them, and we neglect life itself.”
“Yes, master,” Ranghur said dutifully for the thousandth time.
Or he supposed it was that much. He had been apprenticed to the temple on his seventh birthday, now over three years ago, and he could do the sums.
Havok Story Podcast: Episode 11
Havok Story Podcast, Episode 11: “Silent Running” By Abigail Falanga
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The Storm Horse
“You said to come in if there was any more trouble. And we are way past that!”
Paula tapped her pen against her pad, adjusted her glasses, and looked at the man and woman sitting opposite her. She had dealt with many parents in her long career and was accustomed to encountering families in the strangest crises.
The Incendiary
Kylie burst through the door so fast that her palm stung from the impact.
The rooftop lounge was empty.
Of course it was. No one ever came up here this time of day—or at least no one was supposed to. But now, not even Tom was sleeping in his favorite Adirondack.
Most Prolific Authors: Update
Back in June 2019, we listed nine authors who had published with us three or more times throughout the first season after Havok’s rebirth. I thought it was time to update that Most Prolific Authors post. This Weekend Scoreboard is brought to you by Our Most Prolific Authors! Let’s hear from them what motivates their writing and
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Watch Me Burn
Azar pulled her Harley out of the haze of rush-hour traffic into an unused parking lot and scanned the expanse of asphalt and concrete. Not a blade of grass broke the gray monotony. No flicker of the royal soldiers’ red-edged, black scales.
She parked beside a concrete slope supporting a busier access street,
The Taskforce
I lurched awake, the dream still scrabbling at my heart.
Not just a dream.
It was real, happening or about to happen. It was all I could do not to call my sister, but I knew she’d insist, as always, that nothing could catch her.
Nothing could, of course. As speedsters went, Hannah could outrun them all.
The Sentinel
The wide training room lay behind them, mats rolled away, the monks motionless in parallel lines, eyes lowered.
“Are you certain of this choice?” the prior asked.
The Sentinel nodded curtly. “My decision stands.”
“From here, there is no turning back. You have mastered our martial arts and the theory of our powers,
Figlio Fortunato
Three of the dragon’s heads lunged, spewing noxious fire. Niccolò bellowed, charged between columns of flame, and drove at the beast with his axe. His blows glanced off the scales, then he staggered against the flags of the old church as four more heads lurched around the corner.
Where was Giovanni?
Silent Running
“Idiots!” Admiral Paul Seward exploded as soon as the doors closed behind him, cutting off the hearing chamber with its three transparent sides showing a stunning starfield view and its dreary bureaucratic interior.
His navigator, who had waited outside, jumped straight. “Sir?”
“Turning down humans, the most promising Lightwarden candidates, just when we’re in dire need of recruits.”
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