Landing Page (in Progress): Faerie Apocalypse

The gods left this world thousands of years ago, but they left many of their descendants here on Earth.

Those children mated with humanity and with each other, hid in plain sight, and learned to use their magic without being found out,

In 2011, many of their children come crashing through the gates onto Earth and all of the rules changed again.

This setting is urban fantasy, apocalypse, post-apocalypse, and then rebuilding, depending on the era of the story.

Work in progress: This is my biggest setting, hands-down, and I expect the landing page to take quite a while to work out.

The Stories

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Spoils of War 22: How Long?

First: Spoils of War I: Surrender


She woke feeling refreshed, warm, possibly too warm, and hungry. 

She turned to find that she was being slept on by both of Carrone’s large cats, and that she was alone in the bed. 

One of the cats looked at her, licked her face, and bounded off.  The other one sprawled pointedly over her. 

Nikol looked down at the cat.  It had to weigh at least 25 lbs, and it was making every pound of that known in a surprisingly comfortable manner, its front paws on her chest and its back paws nearly at her knee.  “I take it I’m supposed to stay here for a bit?”

The cat murrowled quietly and started purring.  Continue reading

Purchase Negotiation 21 – Dad Issues

First: Purchased: Negotiation
Previous: Pizza


“You know, I have to admit—” Sylviane held up a hand. “Okay, technically, I don’t have to admit, but I’m going to, I like this so far. I like you. I mean, I still think my dad’s being overbearing, pushy, and a little bit uh, weird, but I think that’s kind of what I get for still living at home and, well, for having him as my dad.”

“Why do you? Still live at home, I mean?”

“He bribed me.” She smiled more at the pizza in her hand than at Leander. “He wants me to stick around both ‘cause he seems to be under this weird mistaken impression that I’m somehow going to get myself into a lot of trouble out on my own, and ‘cause he wants me to learn the family business, which is kind of weird, ‘cause it’s not like he’s going to retire any time soon.” She took a large bite of the pizza and considered Leander while she chewed, which was one of the weirder ways he’d been regarded even lately. He remembered that he, too, could eat and did so, too. This place really did have the best pizza.

“So,” she continued, after a sip of her soda, “he’s paying for college, paying for my wardrobe, and paying for three trips a year wherever I want — as long as I avoid a certain list of ‘danger spots’. And a spending allowance. I mean, I could get a job.  I’m not without skills or contacts.  I could do the whole bootstrapping thing – I’m – well,” she gestured at herself as if it explained everything.

Pretty girl, most people would read, and she was, to be far, quite pretty. 

Fae, Leander read. 

“Rich,” he filled in instead. 

She snorted. “That, too.  Yeah. So I could make it on my own, but – well, honestly, it’s kind of nice having him looking out for me, and he doesn’t get all creepy when I bring someone home.  Well, normally.”

“There’s probably a story there, isn’t there?”

“Oh, two or three stories,” she agreed.  “But the long and short of it is – Dad is good at people.  He can tell if someone’s a creep from like, five miles away.  Well, okay, probably a mile, normally. So he’s chased off a couple people that turned out to be, well, uh.  Not really interested in me, or not in a way that was good for me.  After a couple, well -” She looked Leander in the eye.  “I trust you a lot more than I would if anyone but Dad had… introduced us.  And Dad does, too.”

Leander cleared his throat and looked down at his plate.  He’d gone through too much food. His poor stomach already felt bloated and over-full.  “I- uh. I’m not going to say your dad’s not always right or anything, but-“

“But you don’t think you’re trustworthy.”  She cupped a hand over one of his. “That’s okay.  You don’t have to. If nothing else, we can both trust Dad’s judgement – as long as I remind him to not be an idiot.”

Leander snorted at that. “That does not sound like very trustworthy judgement.”

“Yeah, well.  Nobody said he was good at figuring out interpersonal relationships.  If he was, he wouldn’t have mostly raised me alone.” She shrugged a bit.  “I mean, I can’t really throw stones; there’s a reason the spot of ‘boyfriend’ was open.”

“The last guy was too much of a creep to ever deserve you?” he offered in a moment of gallantry.

She snorted.  “A couple were.  The last one, I just, uh, didn’t juggle, family, the, you know, Other Family, and the boyfriend stuff very well, and I had a habit of either giving in to everything he wanted or pushing for everything I wanted.”

Anyone eavesdropping really was going to think they were mob-related. Leander hoped Mr. MacDiarmad wasn’t under investigation by the FBI, or this could get awkward fast. 

“Well, in my case,” he winked at her, “you can push for everything you want without problem.”

“Except one hour a day,” she reminded him.  He’d more than half been assuming she’d forget about that quickly, so he was left scrambling for a reply.

“Well, that’s not enough time to drag you to the aquarium,” he countered.  “Or even get through the waiting lines at the airport.”

“Private jet.  I mean, it would take half an hour to get to the airport, but once we were there, you could probably have us in the air before your hour was up.”

“If your father is that rich – I mean, it’s a nice house, don’t get me wrong, but-“

“You can hide a jet.  Anything bigger and fancier alienates people dad doesn’t want to alienate.  And also alienates people I don’t want to alienate.  Like classmates.”

“Is there anything you and your father haven’t thought through?”

“You.”  She squeezed the hand she still hadn’t released. “And I’m not entirely certain he didn’t think you through, too.”


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Purchase Negotiation 20: Pizza

First: Purchased: Negotiation
Previous: Screwed


He had to admit, the woman had decent taste in pizza joints. 

They knew her here, too, and had teased her a little bit about the new boyfriend until she’d made a mock-stern face.  “Don’t you dare scare this one off! He’s not like that last one, okay? So be nice.”

The waitress had winked at Leander. “You hear that? We can’t scare you off.  So you be nice to her, mister.”

“I wouldn’t dream of being anything else,” he assured the woman.  As they were seated, though, he couldn’t help but ask, “the last one?” Continue reading

Purchase Negotiation 19: Screwed

First: Purchased: Negotiation
Previous: Testosterone Stuff


Leander would have been content to stay quiet when they left Mr. MacDiarmad’s office. Considering the way the last few hours had gone, he might have been content to stay quiet forever

If he was quiet, he reasoned, he couldn’t put his foot in it any deeper. If he was quiet, he wouldn’t end up with Sylviane dragging him back to her father, and maybe he could avoid her treating him too much like a broken doll. 

He was still a little surprised when Sylviane slid her hand into his and squeezed. He looked down at her — she wasn’t all that short, really, it was just somehow that he was still looking down at her — and raised his eyebrows, hoping that, at least, was safe.  Continue reading

Purchase Negotiation 18 – Testosterone Stuff

First: Purchased: Negotiation
Previous: Unicorn


They sat there for a moment.  Leander was trying to come up with something to say that wasn’t sir, you’re weird, and that terrifies me, and Mr. MacDiarmid seemed to be trying to come up with anything at all to say on his end. 

It was like that, sitting on the floor, one of Mr. MacDiarmad’s hands on Leander’s and the other on his shoulder, that Sylviane found them. 

Leander tensed.  He didn’t— But — how was he going to explain—   Continue reading

Coming Out In Cloverleaf

This is a few days late, sorry!  But it came to my mind on National Coming Out Day

Nathen (and his headmates) are the protagonists of Afterward(s), the… ahem… novels?… I’m working on.  He’s also visible in “Dictator, Dic-TAH-tor…” and “Lightning in Autumn” (which started the whole thing), as well as “Bi Kisses” and possibly my favorite little microfic here.

This is set in approximately the 2060’s, in Cloverleaf.


The calendar was a surprise.  Nathen just wasn’t all that used to them anymore; a lot of places had lost touch with the exact days and weeks for a while, and those that hadn’t had definitely lost touch with things like printed calendars.

But this one, hung behind the bar and claiming to be the most gorgeous people in all of Cloverleaf, was there (Mr. October was indeed gorgeous, but he couldn’t hold a candle to Leo), and the days were neatly X’d off.

It was a Friday – he’d already known that; they were working, after all.  And it was apparently October 11th.

How did I never notice that before?

Because it’s usually behind the rum and the vodka.  Means we need to restock.

They did that, pulling the big glass bottles out – rum, proper rum. Or possibly improper rum, probably improper rum, all things considered. But still rum. Vodka, which of course could be distilled in formerly-Montana if it could be distilled in probably-still-Russia.

It was only when they were making sure that the glasses were stocked that the date hit Nathen.

“Oh.”  He blinked.  “It’s Coming Out Day.”  How long since he’d thought of that?  How long since Pride Parades?  How long since that one sweet co-worker who had shyly suggested to him that, since it was National Coming Out Day, maybe he had something to say?

“It’s what?”  Xia, who owned the bar was not young, per se, but she definitely was younger than Nathen.  Younger than the end of the world.

“Old holiday. Ancient holiday,” he corrected. “Back when being gay was, uh. When it wasn’t quite so accepted. Well.” He cleared his throat. “Back in America, when it wasn’t still as accepted.” There were still places here and there on the continent when just about anything wasn’t accepted. He wasn’t sure that would ever change. But here, here in Cloverleaf, things were a lot… well, easier.

“Oh.”   Xia smirked at him.  “So you’re saying ‘back in the bad old days.'”

Nathen chuckled.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I suppose I am.”

The world was doing fine, he supposed, if less than a century later, they could call the days before the apocalypse the bad old days..

Spoils of War 21 – Don’t Die, I Hate You

First: Spoils of War I: Surrender

“Wake up. Hey, Mistress.  Bitch. Wake up.” Someone splashed water in her face. 

Nikol blinked.  “Urgh?”

“Say the Words.  Jas — Repair, you know, body.  Come on. I got the rib out. I cleaned everything. Sterilized it.  Now heal it. Come on. Wake up.”

She blinked again.  “Did you just call me Mistress Bitch?”

“Yeah.  Mistress, comma, bitch.  Got a better idea?”

“My name’s Nikol.”

“Great, mine’s Aran.  You don’t answer to Nikol when you’re passed out.  Wonder if I answer to Aran?” Continue reading