Moments of the Adept Universe 1 is now available on all retailers! YAY! The collection includes a short story set in the Archivist series and narrated by Dusk. Aka Archivist 1.5, which some of you missed reading in my Nov 2021 newsletter.
In her illustration (below and in the eBook), Memo captured Dusk in the process of unlocking a super cool brick wall puzzle box.
Dusk, holding Infinity and solving puzzles as she loves (lives?) to do. Illustration by Memo.
“We can talk about it, you know,” Brady said. “Whatever is bothering you. It’s not like … I’m not reporting on you. To the pack. Or the archive.”
I glanced at him.
He smiled tightly, mostly keeping his gaze on the wet stretch of road before us. The traffic was thickening as we neared the city center. Brady had been letting his beard grow in, so it didn’t just line his jaw. Perhaps in response to the encroaching winter? “I know that’s what you think. That the pack has me keeping tabs on you, because I escort you to and from work.”
Not answering, I leaned forward to input the address in the GPS, following the prompts slowly. I’d seen Ravine do the same in her tiny car, though with a slightly different system.
I settled back in my seat, casting my gaze out the side window again. We were driving through what looked like a residential area now, with wide lots and smaller houses, and still more and more greenery.
Brady glanced my way twice more.
“I’m just still figuring things out,” I said finally.
He bobbed his head. “Talking about things, asking questions, doesn’t make you weak, you know.”
“I’m not worried about looking weak.” The exact opposite, actually. Though Brady wasn’t referring to physical or magical strength.
“Bad word choice,” he said, smirking.
Yeah, I wasn’t hiding much from the wolves. At least not Brady and Kellan. And I had a feeling Ravine had figured me out almost right away as well.
Not to say that any of them actually knew the truth about me. They just understood that I wasn’t a regular witch.
“Some new playthings will please you,” Brady said.
“Artifacts and books aren’t playthings,” I retorted. But then I broke into a grin. “But maybe something hidden among the witch’s things will try to kill us. That’s always fun.”
The werewolf enforcer chuckled, a gleefully wicked sound.
At least we had that in common.
No lying necessary.
– Excerpt from A Momentary Retrieval (Archivist 1.5)
Excerpt from Moments of the Adept Universe 1. A Momentary Misunderstanding is a brand new (as in I didn’t share an early draft with my newsletter) novelette from Burgundy‘s POV (click the link for bio/sketches).
When I was drafting the story I put up a poll in my reader-run fan group and asked them what characters they’d been dying to catch a glimpse of, then I tried to incorporate as many of those characters into this sweet, fun romp as possible (while still telling the story I wanted to tell). Burgundy’s tale is set after the events of Misfits 1 but before Archivist 0. And yes, there are a TON of cameos in it.
And … spoiler alert, those of you with an eye for detail might also notice the subtle setup for a new series that I’m working on (a long-term multiverse project).
In her illustration (below and in the eBook), Memo has captured Burgundy in the process of wielding her healing powers.
Burgundy, witch, healing [spoiler]. Illustration by Memo.
A Momentary Misunderstanding
Moments of the Adept Universe 0.6
(Aka Burgundy 0.5)
I set the final stone into place for my outer circle as Kandy prowled out of the densely packed old-growth forest to my far right. Grumbling to herself. Again. We were currently in a natural clearing somewhere in the middle of woods nestled at the base of two gigantic mountains, having spent three-plus hours following the pull of the ley line until I’d settled on a perfect location for my multitiered casting.
And yes, even in human form and wearing hiking boots, the werewolf prowled.
Kandy. Aka the wielder’s wolf. Enforcer for the West Coast North American Pack. The bearer of the wolf’s bracers.
Aka my babysitter.
A babysitter who would have preferred to be helping hone the survival skills of the two others we’d dragged along on the day hike with us — the Talbot twins — instead of waiting for me to set up my circle.
Kandy’s hair was dyed shockingly fluorescent pink, and though she often kept it cropped short and spiked, it was currently long enough to tuck behind her ears and be considered fashionably tousled — except I would never dare use that term within her earshot, let alone to her face. Mory, aka my necromancer best friend, had tried to add some purple streaks to the bright pink last night at the cabin, and the werewolf had threatened to twist her head off her ‘pretty little shoulders.’
I had happily let Mory weave some purple through my own basically boring brown mop, which I was currently wearing in two braids that barely skimmed my shoulders. The day was hot, at least for me. I liked the outdoors. I just preferred to be sitting in the shade sipping a mocha frappuccino while gazing out at some large body of water anytime the temperature even neared twenty-one degrees Celsius.
I had already removed my hiking boots — casting barefoot was much, much easier — which I’d paired with a short stretchy skirt with Lycra shorts underneath to minimize chafing. My subtle floral-print T-shirt clung in all the right places and let all the wrong places sort of … disappear.
Usually, at least. When I wasn’t all sweaty from the aforementioned day hike.
The power I’d be able to gather from the ley line was worth the effort, though.
Having no need to distract the eye from any part of her body, Kandy was wearing the tiniest, tightest shorts I’d ever seen on an actual person, and a T-back tank top over a sports bra, all in various shades of bright green. Matched with her hair and the gold-runed bracers that encased her wrists — and in strong contrast to the hiking boots — the effect was … visually overwhelming.
Literally stunning.
But then, the thirty-something was tiny, lithe, and epically ripped. So she could wear whatever she wanted and look insanely great.
“This is a dry riverbed, you know,” Kandy grumbled as she skirted the edge of my outer circle.
A creek, maybe. But I wasn’t going to correct her. “Just the center part,” I said mildly. I had opted for the largest circle the space between the thick, close-set trees would allow — probably about twelve feet across. Though normally, I kept my circles tight and much, much easier to cast.
Kandy threw me a look indicating that even the mildest of sarcasm wasn’t going to be tolerated.
This trip marked the longest time I’d spent with the enforcer werewolf in … well, ever. And neither of us was having a fantastic time of it. The two-hour ridiculously early-morning drive, then the three-hour-plus hike hadn’t helped. And I doubted I was going to get as much done as I wanted before exhausting myself magically, as well as physically, so I was going to need to come back tomorrow. And possibly the day after.
“I’m just saying,” the werewolf grumbled, pacing around my circle a second time. “If there’s a flash flood, it’s going to be hilarious.” She hit me with a gleeful-edged grin.
“It’s the beginning of September,” I said. “In, like, the Okanagan.” Though in the aftermath of the drive and the hike, it was possible we weren’t technically in the Okanagan anymore. “They aren’t going to see rain here for a couple more weeks. If they’re lucky. And it takes melting snowpack to truly flood.”
Kandy cast a cunning, narrowed gaze around, then overhead. She was now grinning rather manically. “Maybe lightning will strike and spark a forest fire. Then you’ll have to pick up your pace.”
Yes, apparently I walked too slowly. But then, I wasn’t one of the high-powered individuals that we all knew and loved. To be clear, I cared for a couple of such individuals. Massively. Those particular Adepts, aka people with magic, also just so happened to be the ones least likely to kill me. Though having a necromancer for a best friend meant hanging out with death. A lot. And I didn’t just mean Benjamin Garrick.
I chuckled, but not out loud. Though Kandy would probably enjoy any joke involving the youngest vampire who called Vancouver home.
The enforcer, on the other hand, didn’t like being so far away from Jade, her BFF — Kandy’s term, not mine. And yeah, they were ‘older,’ so I had to forgive the ancient acronym. Jade’s official titles were so numerous that at this point, everyone pretty much just called her ‘dowser’ and let those foolish enough to be distracted by the blond curls, the voluptuous figure, and the near-obsessive cupcake baking fend for themselves.
Of course, Jade’s husband, Warner, was usually around to freeze any true idiots in place with a mere glower. Even if they didn’t know he was a dragon disguised as a human, Warner was so intimidating that I’d seen Jade’s human customers flee the bakery at his entrance.
Still, my skill set might not have been as flashy as all the other Adepts who were part of the Godfrey coven, but I was invaluable. Irreplaceable. Because all the others had a terrible habit of running gleefully into danger and getting seriously hurt.
Excerpt. Anchored in the Moment is the first-ever Audrey prequel story. Set between Dowser 1 and Dowser 2 in the Adept Universe timeline, the short is available in Moments of the Adept Universe 1. In her illustration (below and in the eBook), Memo has captured the moment right before the pack princess claims the position she wants … in more than one way. 😉
Audrey. Illustration by Memo, inspired by the short story, Anchored in the Moment.
Anchored in the Moment
Moments of the Adept Universe 0.5
(Aka Audrey 0.5 )
June 2014.
Portland pack house.
Desmond Charles Llewelyn — Alpha of the West Coast North American Pack, and a cat shifter — was making me wait. Granted, I didn’t exactly have an appointment. But neither could he actually refuse to see me.
I was equal to Desmond in birth rank. But I’d also passed a letter of introduction to him via his enforcer Lara, who had greeted me upon my arrival. The letter was from his father. Lord Charles Llewelyn. And technically unnecessary by virtue of the fact that Desmond and I had grown up in the same circles, though I was on the East Coast and he on the West. When our parents intermingled at official Assembly gatherings and whatnot, so had we. Though I doubted whether we’d ever actually had a single one-on-one conversation.
I paced the living room section of the house’s central great room for the umpteenth time. Like most alphas, including my own father, Desmond conducted business out of his residence. As such, the current pack house for the West Coast North American Pack was a sprawling, austerely furnished mansion perched over Portland, with a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree view of the wide river and its multiple bridges below. Wood dominated throughout, from the flooring to numerous built-ins, including the kitchen cupboards. Gray granite tile and countertops were the only contrast, with nary a casing or baseboard in sight.
The furniture was all oversized, including a thick-planked fir trestle dining room table situated between the kitchen area and the large leather couches and glass coffee table that I was currently pacing between. It all felt very male. And all very new. Completely contrary to the centuries of history contained in my family home.
Centuries of history that had been smothering me since my younger brother Justin had been killed.
The intent behind his murder had never been resolved. Not to my satisfaction, at least. And even as all that unfolded, my mother had been forced to choose between the pack’s beta position and her seat in the Assembly, in line with the Assembly’s recently changed rules. She had stepped down as beta.
My father had refused, as he had each year since, to let me step up.
I had just turned twenty-eight.
I was an adored, sheltered, pampered pack princess.
And I’d never felt so ungrounded, so unneeded, in my life.
Excerpt. From One Moment to the Next is the third Kandy prequel story available in Moments of the Adept Universe 1, including an illustration by Memo that captures the (bleached-blond) werewolf in a moment of surprise.
Kandy, actually startled for once in her life. Illustration by Memo, inspired by the short story, From One Moment to the Next.
From One Moment to the Next
Moments of the Adept Universe 0.4
(Aka Kandy 0.75)
May 2011.
An apartment in Malibu.
I let myself into the swanky apartment. It was unlocked, but I knew I was in the right place because I could smell Desmond and Hudson all around the exterior door, even despite the salty, warm breeze coming off the ocean. Plus the address matched the scrawled note I’d found taped to the inside of my apartment door that morning. Other than that address, though, the only other info I’d gathered was the meeting time and the smell of Desmond on the paper.
But I knew why the soon-to-be alpha wanted to see me. The coming request had been building since I’d joined Desmond’s cousin’s pack three years ago.
And I would say yes.
Just not to the second question that Desmond also planned to ask.
I tugged the door shut behind me, toeing off my sneakers. Padding barefoot across the cool marble-tiled floors, I easily followed the scent of the two men I was apparently meeting. Clandestinely.
Shades of white-on-white ran throughout the apartment. Though perhaps it was pedestrian of me to call it something as simple as an apartment. A condo? A townhouse? An upscale townhouse, situated on the corner of a whitewashed complex perched over a sandy beach at the edge of the sea in sunny California.
I missed the snow.
I shoved that idiotic thought away, scanning the ridiculously luxurious living room as it spread out before me. I had shucked off the chains that came with that snow years ago. I wasn’t going back.
An open kitchen, looking as though it had never been used, sat to my far left. Even the abstract paintings on the walls were monotone and completely impersonal. Though knowing that Desmond’s family was as ridiculously wealthy as my own, I didn’t doubt that any one of those paintings could have covered my rent for over a year.
But I had left that money, that unwanted inheritance, behind with the snow. Along with the heartache.
I wouldn’t have been surprised to find that I was leaving dirty footprints behind me, grubby, unruly wolf that I was. I huffed, pleased with that image of myself. As always.
A breeze carrying the scent of two powerful and slightly sweaty males drew me toward the patio. Crashing surf rolled steadily in across the sandy beach just beyond. I was pleased that I’d decided to wear a bikini, just throwing on a rather revealing, bright-green cover-up for the drive to the coast. Even though that green actually contrasted terribly with my currently overly bleached hair.
On the patio, his golden-brown hair a little longer than usual, Desmond leaned back against the glassed railing. He was dressed in washed-out jeans and a light-blue T-shirt that was rapidly failing to contain biceps the thickness of my thighs. His feet were also bare. His casually crossed arms only emphasized the should-be-impossible breadth of his shoulders. He pinned his golden-brown gaze on me and offered me a lazy but toothy grin.
Hudson stepped up to the right, following Desmond’s gaze and hitting me with a megawatt smile.
My heart pinged painfully, as it often did when I laid eyes on the dark-haired werewolf. Though his lean form was taller and broader through the shoulders than Justin had been when he died, Hudson reminded me of …
Well, everything I had tried to leave behind. Unsuccessfully. When it came to the emotions attached to that past, at least.
I bared my teeth at both of them. “This isn’t a threesome, is it? Because it sure isn’t balanced in my favor.”
Excerpt. At Just the Right Moment is the twins’ prequel novelette, narrated by Gabby (click here for bio and illustrations). It is available in Moments of the Adept Universe 1, including this heartrendingly perfect illustration by Memo (another of my favs of the entire collection) (am I allow to say that about all the illustrations?).
Gabby protecting Peggy, as always and forever. Illustration by Memo, inspired by the novelette, At Just the Right Moment.
At Just the Right Moment
Moments of the Adept Universe 0.3
(Gabby 0.5)
February 2011.
Somewhere in Southern California.
My hand shook as I pressed a series of numbers on the pay phone keypad, reciting the sequence quietly as the others gathered around me did the same. My fingers felt weak, to the point of being useless. The handset was heavy, and painful where I pressed it against my ear. After the tenth number, we waited, pressed together, holding our collective breath.
Peggy, Matty, Sophia, and me.
We had gambled everything.
We’d been ready for a week, which was the best we could prepare without more notice. And in the end, only four of us went through the hole it had taken Sophia and me three months to create in the wards. A crack partially hidden behind a bushy lemon tree, and which had barely been big enough for Matty to pass through. He’d grown fast in the last months, taller and broader.
Which was part of the reason we were running without a full plan.
All I could hear over the telephone was an empty fuzziness, like a vastness stretching out from my ear into nothing. My heart was beating too fast. We’d only been gone for maybe ten minutes. But that was ten more minutes than we’d ever been off the property, let alone gathered around a pay phone at a gas station.
Peggy wrapped her fingers around mine, taking some of the weight of the handset. Then something clicked in my ear, and a man’s voice came over the telephone.
“Henry Calhoun,” he said cheerfully. His accent, we’d agreed, was Southern. “At your service.”
I’d prepared a speech. The other three had helped me with it. Sophia, being the oldest, was the best with magic — witch magic, specifically — and she’d told us we wouldn’t have much time to get out all the information that the cowboy sorcerer would need to find us.
They’d picked me to talk. Peggy could get overwhelmed with too many new people around. She could read minds, even of people without magic. Matty was always worried about sounding stupid, and Sophia was on watch.
Because we knew they would come for us.
They were probably already on their way.
All the prepared words emptied out of my head. I felt sick. Weak with fear. I was shaking with it.
But I wouldn’t cry.
I wouldn’t break.
“Hello?” the man — Henry — asked again. His tone was sharper. Less cheery.
“They’re going to kill Matty,” I said. The words were rushed, and my voice was a little thin, but clear. “They call it relocating, but we know … we know what they mean. And then they’ll move us. And you won’t be able to find us again.”
“What’s your name, little one?” Henry asked, all traces of cheer gone from his voice now. He sounded hard and a little fierce.
That should have scared me, that tone. But I knew — because Peggy knew — that Henry Calhoun would never hurt us.
He had come to inspect the orphanage that wasn’t really an orphanage three days ago. We’d thought he’d been there to rescue us. And Peggy said he was. But he was just looking for something really, really hard. Something called cause.
“Gabby, sir,” I said, feeling stronger. “They named me Gabrielle. I’m here with Matty, Sophia, and my sister Peggy. The others were … locked up. Or too scared to come with us.”
“Where are you right now?”
“The gas station two blocks down and three blocks over from the house. It was the first pay phone we found.”
I could hear other noises over the line, like Henry was moving. A door opening, then closing. Murmured voices.
“Someone is coming,” Peggy whispered.
“Humans,” Matty said, his voice a low growl. His shoulders were broad enough to block my view entirely. “Not Dave. Or Charlotte.”
“Gabby?” Henry asked over the phone. “That’s not … they’ll be able to track you.”
“We know,” I said.
“I’m coming to you right now,” he said. “But I’m two hours away.”
Pain crunched through my chest, then another wave of weakness ran through me. I tried to hide it from the others. “Two hours …” I whispered.
“They can’t get away from me now, Gabby,” Henry said. “But I need you to keep moving. And every time you find another phone, you call me again to check in. Do you … do you have money?”
“Twenty-seven dollars.” It had taken us three years to put it together. Usually the eldest of us held it, which in our case now was Sophia. Others had held it before her, and before they got relocated — killed, we now knew — they passed it down to the next eldest.
“Okay, okay,” Henry said, sounding like he was talking to himself, and maybe like he’d stepped outdoors.
It was my first time using a phone, so I wasn’t totally sure what I was hearing.
“Stick together as much as possible,” Henry said. “But don’t fight when they come for you, Gabby. Tell the others, don’t fight. If you fight, they will hurt you.”
“But Henry …” My voice broke, and I pressed my hand against Matty’s back. He completely blocked my sight of the rest of the gas station, standing guard. I dropped my hand. I had touched him without permission, and we didn’t do that to each other. “We have to fight now. They’re going to kill Matty. He’s getting too strong for them. He hurt one of the regular clients. They don’t like that …”
I glanced over at Sophia. Her face was hard. Her densely curly dark hair was pulled back with an elastic band. Sophia was a witch. She could generate electrical impulses. At fourteen, she was very careful to not reveal how strong that power had become.
Excerpt. In Less than a Moment is the second Kandy prequel novelette available in Moments of the Adept Universe 1, including this ridiculously perfect illustration by Memo (one of my favs of the entire collection).
Kandy. Werewolf, junior enforcer for the East Coast pack. Age nineteen. Illustration by Memo inspired by the novelette, In Less Than a Moment.
In Less Than A Moment
Moments of the Adept Universe 0.2
(Kandy 0.5)
March 2008.
A back alley in Boston.
Justin was dead.
I had dragged him behind an industrial garbage bin … or maybe it was for recycling. At least … I thought it had been me who had dragged him … blood streaking away from us into the middle of the alley …
Justin’s blood. From the three gunshot wounds.
They’d shot him in the back.
I thought they’d shot him.
Though it wasn’t yet clear to me who they were.
He’d gone down without a sound.
We’d been chatting and laughing … and …
Now Justin was dead.
Vaguely aware that I was panicking, I rolled him over, tearing his T-shirt so I could get a better look at his back. I accidentally scored his pale skin with wolf claws that I hadn’t consciously manifested.
Blood was just pouring out of him, pooling underneath him. I was crouching in it, kneeling in it. His warm lifeblood.
I’d thought … if I could remove the bullets … but the wounds were already blackening at the edges, a poison there spreading as dark veins of death.
Justin was dead.
Three bullets to the heart would do that.
Even to a werewolf.
If those bullets were silver.
And wielded by a sorcerer.
Sorcerer …
Even as I gently settled Justin onto his back, I whirled around, placing myself between him and the Adepts who were coming for us, hunting us.
No.
They’d already found us. Meaning we had no idea we hadn’t been the only ones doing the hunting.
Wait… had we been hunting?
No …
I touched my temple, then looked at my fingers. More than just Justin’s blood coated them. I’d been shot too. Now that I realized it, I could feel the gouge. It burned and wasn’t healing. More silver.
Had … had Justin shoved me out of the way?
Yes.
I’d darted back for him, dragged him to shelter.
But he was already dead.
The alley had been empty.
Seemed empty.
But it wasn’t.
I could smell the magic now … spells that they’d ignited at the same time as their shooter tried to take us out from behind. That power felt oppressive, like tight boundary spells often did. They’d sealed us in the alley.
So they could murder us.
The sorcerer I’d been expecting stepped around the garbage container, his gun trained low, pointing toward my heart. Black gun. Dark suit. White dress shirt, no tie. Clothing layered in protection spells. I knew. I’d been trained. Was in training.
The sorcerer’s brown eyes flicked to take in Justin sprawled behind me. Dead, I reminded myself. And for the briefest moment, the tip of his gun wavered, lowered.
As if he wasn’t going to shoot me.
The beast that lived deep within my soul tore through my human skin, shredding my clothing and sneakers. Bones shifting, pain streaking through me, I transformed far more quickly than I ever had before. Massive clawed feet scoring the pavement, teeth so large and jagged that I couldn’t effectively close my maw, I rose.
The sorcerer stumbled back, having to look up at me as I now towered over him. Belatedly, he remembered to try to pull the trigger. I crushed the gun in one clawed hand first. Then, clamping my other hand on his shoulder, I tore the offending limb completely off his body.
He screamed.
The protection spells on his suit weren’t rated for a werewolf in warrior form. At least not against my beast.
Excerpt below. In But a Moment, a prequel novelette set in the Adept Universe, was originally sent to my newsletter in an unedited state in early 2021. Now edited, it is the first of the stories collected into Moments of the Adept Universe 1 along with an insanely gorgeous, perfectly evocative illustration by Memo.
Dedra. Illustrated by Memo. Inspired by the story, In But a Moment.
In But A Moment
Moments of the Adept Universe 0.1
(Kandy 0.25)
January 2007.
At Rothhouse Estate in Manchester, New Hampshire.
Beer in hand, I grabbed the arm of the beat-up recliner and dragged it closer to the sliding doors on the far side of the living room, angling it so I had a view of the back patio — and more specifically, the full moon. Curling my legs under me, I lounged back, taking in the cool, dark night along with a sip of the beer. It was still too warm. And bitter. Which was fine, because the bottle was really only cover. If I didn’t have it in hand, I’d be asked incessantly if I needed a drink by the other werewolves slowly filtering into the lakeside cabin from our evening hunt. Some of them still wearing their fur, incapable of changing back to human form with the moon so high in the sky.
I’d arrived early, hanging out in the woods that occupied the bulk of the acreage surrounding the estate of the current alpha of the East Coast pack just long enough to witness the deer slaughter, but feeling no need to participate myself. Not that I was antiviolence when it was called for — which honestly was almost perpetually in a pack as large as ours. But I wasn’t big on tearing the throat out of an innocent creature that never had a chance against me. In wolf or human form.
I wiggled my bare toes under the overly plush arm of the recliner, catching the sound of another car winding along the long drive to the little-used lake house. Little-used by everyone except the younger set of the pack, at least. Yeah, we were supposed to be sleeping off the hunt in fluffy, adorable piles of teeth and claws and ridiculously loud snoring, but our alpha would turn a blind eye to us breaking that tradition as long as we didn’t seriously maim or kill anyone.
And even then, as long as the injured soul wasn’t a pack member, our alpha would probably just clean up our mess and give us a tap on the nose. Arthur was like that. Except he’d then assign some sort of horribly boring duty for a month or two, like rebuilding the estate fence or volunteering at a local charity. Being around mundanes — people without magic — for longer than a few hours was a surefire way to make a werewolf beg for forgiveness.
I, fortunately, was currently slightly out of reach of the pack’s smothering tendencies, thanks to suffering through my first year of college on the path to a physiotherapist specialty. I didn’t have the attention span to become a full medical doctor, but werewolves were impervious to most magic and healed quickly, making a physio degree both pragmatic and a somewhat interesting way to waste my time.
Limiting the messes we got into — and therefore the need for the intervention of any sort of medical professional — was why the entire pack was forced up to New Hampshire for the first full moon of the year. Every damn year. A smaller number of unlucky pack wolves were forced to attend every full moon run. And an even smaller, more dangerous subset of wolves were forbidden from living more than an hour from Rothhouse Estate and Arthur’s calming influence.
I’d been able to control my changes from a precociously young age, though. I’d been transforming multiple times a day since my early teens without exhausting myself. Only the alpha’s eldest progeny, Justin and Audrey, could boast the same.
Not that I boasted about it. Because who really cared? My position in the pack was already firmly set. It had been since before I’d been born. Sure, if I’d been a weak-ass whelp, it would have confused and possibly upset the pack elders. But I wasn’t.
In fact, I was so powerful, so … not intelligent, exactly, but perceptive, that I was a threat. Or I would be, if I were interested in climbing the ranks any higher than I was already positioned.
I wasn’t, though.
I was just seriously bored.
All. Of. The. Time.
College helped a bit. Screwing around with Justin occasionally filled the darkest hours of the night — both in and out of clothing. I’d gotten happily lost among the California pack for a couple of months last fall.
I took another swig of beer, instantly regretting it. “Who bought this garbage?” I howled, not speaking to anyone in particular.
All movement in the tiny house … paused. For just a moment.
“Sorry, Kandy!” Allie squeaked from the region of the kitchen. “It gets better chilled. Promise.”
If you are new to the Adept Universe, you might want to start by reading the novels, then the shorts and novellas. Click here for just the main novels (with the book covers and extra info about characters, etc).
If reading from the beginning is too overwhelming, possible entry points into the Adept Universe are set in bold and marked with an asterisk.
The Dowser Series is written in trilogies: Dowser 1-3, Dowser 4-6, and Dowser 7-9, so please expect the overall story arcs to take the full three books to resolve.
A Difficult Funeral (Dowser 1.5) is a free ‘flash fiction’ found on MCD’s blog under Extras and Freebies.
The Reconstructionist Series is a complete trilogy.
The Misfits of the Adept Universe series contains standalone novels that tie back to the main universe and are therefore best read in order. It is an ongoing series.
The Archivist Series is an ongoing series.
Dowser 9.5 is technically set outside/beyond the current timeline.
If you’re subscribed to my newsletter you may have read six of the seven stories contained in this collection of shorts and novelettes. I gave them away through 2021 in an unedited/unproofed form, but have now bundled them together, added another novelette (Burgundy 0.5), and asked Memo to illustrate a scene (or moment, wink wink) from each. I’ll be sharing those illustrations and a little snippet of each story in the week leading up to publication.
I hope to write more novellas through 2022 to expand the ever-growing Adept Universe! I have ideas!
Book cover by damonza.com
A collection of stories featuring characters from the Adept Universe by Meghan Ciana Doidge in a pivotal moment of their life, or possibly a playful interlude.
The collection contains the following shorts/novelettes:
In But a Moment – aka Kandy 0.25
In Less Than a Moment – aka Kandy 0.5
At Just the Right Moment – aka Gabby 0.5
From One Moment to the Next – aka Kandy 0.75
Anchored in the Moment – aka Audrey 0.5
Momentary Misunderstanding – aka Burgundy 0.5
A Momentary Retrieval (Archivist 1.5) – Dusk
Content warnings: language, sexual situations, violence, and childhood abuse.
So here is a great example of something I should keep my mouth shut about, but I’m going to waste my time responding to. Ironically, I was just talking about the grief I get for the perceived length of my books, and the pressure that negative (and erroneous) feedback puts on my ability to write those books.
So instead of writing new words, I’m going to respond to the latest accusation that I write NOVELLAS and charge FULL PRICE for them. Also the exact definition of a cliffhanger.
As you can see above, this reader is incredibly disgusted by my cliffhanging, novella-length books, which I have the audacity to charge full price for.
So let’s address these accusations.
First, a NOVELLA is 17,500 to 40,000 words in length. (here is the wiki link if you don’t believe me). The average length for an urban fantasy novel is 70,000 – 95,000 (Ilona Andrews often blogs about needing to REDUCE their word count for traditional publishing).
Here are the WORD COUNTS for my FULL-LENGTH books (yes, I’m seriously wasting my time now)(in reading order):
• Cupcakes, Trinkets, and Other Deadly Magic (Dowser 1) – 68,000
• Trinkets, Treasures, and Other Bloody Magic (Dowser 2) – 82,061
• Treasures, Demons, and Other Black Magic (Dowser 3) – 85,621
• I See Me (Oracle 1) – 72,483
• Shadows, Maps, and Other Ancient Magic (Dowser 4) – 68,538
• Maps, Artifacts, and Other Arcane Magic (Dowser 5) – 73,782
• I See You (Oracle 2) – 77,029
• Artifacts, Dragons, and Other Lethal Magic (Dowser 6) – 90,548
• Champagne, Misfits, and Other Shady Magic (Dowser 7) – 74,500
• Misfits, Gemstones, and Other Shattered Magic (Dowser 8) – 73,550
• Gemstones, Elves, and Other Insidious Magic (Dowser 9) – 91,443
• Demons and DNA (Amplifier 1) – 76,984
• Bonds and Broken Dreams (Amplifier 2) – 92,296
• Mystics and Mental Blocks (Amplifier 3) – 83,640
• Idols and Enemies (Amplifier 4) – 103,026 (also includes The Music Box – an extra 4500 words at no extra cost to the reader).
• Misplaced Souls (Misfits 1) – 91,661
• Invoking Infinity (Archivist 1) – 106,557
• Compelling Infinity (Archivist 2) – 88,680
As you can see NOT ONE of the books I charge so-called full price for is a novella. Nowhere near, in fact. The first book in a trilogy is often a little trimmer (Dowser 1, Dowser 4, Oracle 1, Reconstructionist 1, and Dowser 7) because it is the ‘first act’ aka the set-up. And is often balanced by a much longer third book (Dowser 3, 6, and 9, etc)
PRICING
Dowser 1 is FREE. Dowser 2 and 3, Oracle 1 are $3.99. All my other full-length books are $4.99.
The average price for an urban fantasy novel? (eBook, USD): $3.99-$16.99, but most indies charge $4.99-$6.99.
And, highly ironically, the two books I call novellas, The Amplifier Protocol (Amplifier 0) and Awakening Infinity (Archivist 0) are actually short novel-length but I charge $3.99 for them. I also gave away Amplifier 0 and Archivist 0 for free on my blog (serialized). And, at one time or another, the Dowser box set (three books), Oracle 1, and Reconstructionist 1 have all been available for free.
And, even more ironically, my cost to produce a novel (not including an audiobook which adds $3500-$4000) has tripled in the last two to three years and I HAVEN’T RAISED MY PRICES. It costs me (depending on what cover artist I use or extras I include, like the illustrations in the Archivist series): $5k- $7k to produce the eBook and paperback. Minimum. To be completely transparent, I earn approx $3.70 on a $4.99 book. So … just to put it all together, I have to sell 1350 – 1890 eBooks just to break even.
None of my books end in an actual cliffhanger – as in the story abruptly stopping with no resolution, aka with the main character literally hanging off a cliff by their fingernails. Teasing where the story goes next IS NOT A CLIFFHANGER. Even in DOWSER 8, the main storyline is resolved. It just isn’t resolved to some readers’ satisfaction. The second book in a trilogy (so Dowser 2, Dowser 5, Dowser 8, Oracle 2, Reconstructionist 2) traditionally ends on a low note – that is the PROPER structure for a trilogy!! And even then, in my books, the main storyline is ALWAYS resolved. Hence no actual cliffhangers.
It is highly ironic, that the hate mail I got after Dowser 8 directly contributed to me not writing any more Dowser books, and no longer writing trilogies even though I love the structure. Nasty notes/reviews/etc took Jade away from me, and I will be forever bitter about it. Which is probably why I just wasted my time writing this blog post.
So … I hope whoever decided to write the nasty review accusing me of charging novel prices for novellas and ending all my books with cliffhangers is happy she got my attention. That she got me angry. And that instead of writing new words, and therefore releasing another novel sooner than later, that I wasted my time writing this blog post. I hope she also enjoyed getting (at minimum) Dowser 1 for free.
I hope she enjoys the fact that she has most likely galvanized me to raise my prices (since my own costs have more than tripled).
But one question? If you are so DISGUSTEDby paying for my so-called ‘cliffhanger’ ‘novellas’, why keep reading them?
Yes, I know, I shouldn’t read reviews, but when I’ve just released a book I often pop over to see how it is being received. This was staring me in the face when I did so this morning.
End Rant.
Lunch.
And then, I will attempt to get some new words written.
