“After the Happily Ever After” – Anthology

Newly Published

Hot off the press! A nice new publication is coming up, because Transmundane’s latest short story anthology includes my short story The Thin Blue Breadcrumb Trail! 

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After The Happily Ever After

The curtain doesn’t fall once love is recognized or evil is vanquished. Wicked stepsisters, malevolent rulers, and hideous creatures still have lives after their sinister roles play out; heroes, lovers, and dreamers often find their victories lead to more troubles.

Within these pages are more than seventy continuations, retellings, and eldritch stories that explore the dark forests, magical castles, and grotesque monsters After the Happily Ever After.

Update: The book is now available on Amazon.

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Short Story: “Directions”

Res Arcana: The Advent of Choice - Short StoryShort story to celebrate the release of my book Res Arcana: The Advent of Choice.

The saturated soil squelched under his feet and mosquitoes buzzed around his head. He tried to ignore them and focused on the nigh on invisible path instead. These marshes were treacherous under the best of circumstances. What had possessed him to cross them with less than a full day’s light ahead and after heavy rains, he couldn’t say, but he cursed himself for it.

Before every step he prodded the swamp ahead with his long walking stick, searching for the next bank of solid ground. More often than not, however, the tip of the stick sank so deeply under its own weight that he dared not use it for support, even when he was about to lose his balance. If he fell, he might not be able to get up again.

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Short story: “Bloody Mary”

Story inspired by this quote from

“Bloody Mary”

My toes curled against the cold of the tiles while I waited for my eyes to adjust to the dark. Faint moonlight shone in through the high window of the bathroom, illuminating my reflection in the mirror above the sink.

I stared into the image of my own eyes and shivered. How precise was the timing of this, anyway?

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“The Arches” – short story

The forest was wonderful at this time of year. Everywhere, the leaves had begun to change colour, but it would still be a week or two before the autumn storms transformed the beaten paths between the trees into soggy mud pools. The first mushrooms of the season had popped up, while the chestnut trees started to shed their conkers, spiky shells and all.

Mark Haynes whistled at Thor, his enthusiastic Alsatian. The young dog had bolted off between the scrubs to chase a squirrel up a tree and, despite Mark’s efforts, wouldn’t be convinced it was a lost cause.

“Thor! Heel!”

Reluctantly the Alsatian abandoned its playful hunt and trotted back to its master, tongue hanging out of its muzzle. When it found Mark, it sat down on its haunches, the very image of obedience.

“After a treat to make up for that squirrel, are you?” Mark shook his head, a lopsided grin on his face as he pulled a dog biscuit from his pocket and tossed it up. Thor leapt and snatched the treat out of mid-air.

“If all else fails, I can always sell you to a circus, you crazy mongrel,” Mark said as he roughly petted the Alsatian. When he rose again, the deep colours of evening shining through the trees caught his attention. “See that, boy? Time to go home.”

Twilight set in before they were halfway back to the car. Mark didn’t mind. He knew the forest well enough to find his way around on a moonless night. There had been a time when he would do exactly that, but for a year or two now, his eyes were failing him. Only last week he had tripped over a root and twisted his ankle; not badly, but it had hurt.

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“Downswing” – short story



I sit and listen to the emptiness. A circle of light, cast by a source I cannot see, marks the edge of my world.


A gigantic pendulum swings back and forth in a slow, steady rhythm.


It comes and goes. The only company I have, and the only thing that tells me time has not yet stopped for me.


That I may still be alive…


The pendulum’s creased face catches the light as it passes through my world before disappearing in the shadows high above. A soundless moment, then: