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The Horse Monster

As the sun sank below the horizon, Sir Eric ventured into the forest. The villagers had seen strange tracks near their farms, and hired him to go stop the monster that was stripping their fields bare. He paused to light a torch and take carrot from his pack.

"Here, boy!" he called. "I've got a tasty treat for you!"

The silence was shattered by a sound like an approaching stampede. The thunder of hooves grew closer until it appeared. The creature was enormous, longer than any dragon or sea monster he had ever seen. It had the upper body of a man, but its lower body was like an entire herd of horses marching single file. It was one of the rarest monsters in the world: a centaurpede.

"Come to battle me with a carrot?" the creature laughed. "Beware, monsters! The Vegetable Knight approaches! He roots out evil wherever he grows! He'll kale us all!"

"It's not a weapon," Sir Eric said. "It's a bribe to convince you to leave the farmers alone."

The creature folded its arms. "One single carrot? I may have a hundred horse legs, but I'm just as smart as a human."

Sir Eric's mustache bristled angrily. "What do you want, then?"

"A horse blanket. It's cold in the woods."

"But… You must be eight hundred feet long!"

The creature nodded. "Yes! Or I'll go back to eating crops and leave the fields barren."

Sir Eric sighed. "I'll go start knitting."

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Centenarian Superman – Making Superman fun to read

I’ve never found Superman that interesting  of a character. He’s basically a god. It’s nearly impossible to give Supes a problem that feels big enough to actually be a challenge. Even Mister Mxyzptlk, who has the power to warp reality itself, is nothing more than an annoyance. That’s a problem. Other than a few magic rocks, nothing can hurt him. Without a real challenge, there’s no drama. This means that indestructible, all-powerful characters are inherently dull.

That being said, I may have found an angle that would actually make Superman fun to read: making Superman super old.

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Favorite science fiction subgenre?

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The Hops

A robot delivered a large crate to the starship's cocktail lounge. "It's here!" Mimi said. The Molluscan bartender gestured for Captain Eric to come over.

Eric frowned. "What's that smell?"

"I wanted to make authentic Earth beer for all the Humans, so I ordered some hops!"

"That doesn't smell like hops," he said. "It smells like a litter box."

She shrugged, a complicated gesture when you had eight arms. "It's a long journey from… um… you know, your Human planet. Humania? Humboldt? Hubert? The hops probably went potty in the crate."

He nodded. "Sure, that makes sen… Wait, it did what?" He opened the lid. "Mimi, these are called rabbits. You can't make beer with them."

She blushed. "Oh! I thought it was a weird recipe. Can you make other booze with rabbits?"

"Well, they go great with white wine sauce."

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Need a book?

I got books with people being eaten! Books that might eat you! Books with spaceships and robots! Books that will be eternally loyal and books that will go out for cigarettes and never return! Books that are swarms of wasps! Choose carefully!

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False Bow

Over the years, the local monsters had developed unusual ways of attracting their prey. After rainstorms, two rainbows would stretch across the sky. One led to a leprechaun's gold. The other led to a vicious, man-eating troll.

Sir Eric studied the colors. "Red, blue, yellow, black! That's the false bow." He laughed. "Well, that was easy. Gold, here I come!"

A few miles away, the leprechaun sharpened its fangs.

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The Skeleton

Mary stepped out of her apartment and headed down the alley. Something in the air shifted, and she was filled with fear. A skeletal figure in a black cloak emerged from the shadows. Silently, it raised its hand and pointed a long, white finger.

"No!" Mary screamed. "Not yet! I'm still young!" She jumped in her coupe and, tires squealing, sped off down the road.

A soapy sponge dropped from the skeleton's hand. The Grime Reaper sighed. "Nobody ever lets me wash their car."

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That was such a dad joke, it got my wife pregnant

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The Mugging

The first time I stepped into the cascade, I found myself in a back alley. Someone ran up behind me and grabbed my suitcase. They probably thought it was a laptop, something they could pawn, not a portal to other realities.

When the mugger ran off, I knew I'd need help to track him down. I needed this reality's version of me.

I didn't recognize the mugger, but I figured this reality's me would have the same connections with local criminals that I do.

The other me wasn't surprised to see himself at the door. He just said, "Looks like you got the portal to work."

"I'll help you do the same, if you help me."

We found the mugger at a trailer park. I kicked in his door. He scrambled out the window with the suitcase, but got grabbed by the other me.

The mugger was confused and mumbling about clones. He let us drag him to the car without a fight. We drove out to the desert, made him dig a hole.

Once the mugger was done digging, I took the shovel and hit the other me. I made the mugger bury him.

I didn't want any other me exploring the cascade. Eventually they would find their way to my reality. I just knew there wouldn't be a version of me in any world that was worth trusting.

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Recommended Reading for Hitchhiker's Guide fans

I'll be starting my biannual reread of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy soon! If you love the books as much as I do, here are some other authors you might enjoy.

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The Eye

Captain Eric and Amy made a journey to the edge of the universe, stopping at Observation Outpost ZZZ-99. They stood at the space station's windows, staring out at the endless void. And then the void stared back.

A colossal, gray blue eye appeared, millions of miles across. The eye blinked.

"W-what is it?" Amy asked, her voice shaky.

"Nobody knows," Eric said. "Space Operatives built the outpost here to study it, but so far, we haven't learned much. The eye never approaches. It's like it can't get any closer, almost as if there's an invisible wall."

~~~

G'z'ch pressed his eye against the glass bowl of spacetime, watching the swirling stars inside. "Mom, can I have it? It's so cute!"

S'r'rl shook her heads. "You don't want that, baby. Universes only live a few quadrillion years. How about a pet fractal? You can teach it infinite fetch!"

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The Postcards

I got a postcard from Dad a week after he died. It was a picture of flames and the words "It's too hot here" on the back. Of course, I thought it was just a prank. But the cards kept coming.

The next postcard had a cave photo. On the back, it had a rough map through a cave system and the message "Found a way up."

The third had no writing, just a photo of my house.

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Dating With TDD

At first, Rachel wasn't sure she wanted to date someone with TDD. She had always considered herself caring and empathetic. She had dated people with anxiety issues, depression, and other problems, and it had been fine. She treated relationships a bit like camp sites, trying to leave them in a better condition than when she found them. She would help them find a new therapist or a healthier coping mechanism, and make them a better person for the next woman.

But this was different. Temporal Disconnection Disorder was a lot to handle. Random, uncontrollable time travel didn't exactly make for a stable relationship. And it was untreatable. You couldn’t just get them new meds. There was no way to help, no way to fix them.

Why even have a boyfriend if you couldn't rely on them? You could agree to visit your parents for the weekend, and he might show up a month later, dressed in rags and reeking of fish, and his only explanation would be "Sorry, honey, I was defending a seaside village from Vikings." It was like dating an alcoholic, if going on a bender could get you murdered by rampaging Scandinavians.

But Matt was cute, and his TDD was on the mild side. Instead of involuntary visits to the Middle Ages, he would pop forward or back just an hour or two. Either he would show up late to dates, or he would show up twice.

And having two boyfriends for a night wasn't all bad.

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New Short Story: William and the Clockwork Devil

In this clockpunk portal fantasy, a young man named William finds himself transported to another world. This strange place seems like the Middle Ages, but the villagers are threatened by mechanical monsters and centaur highwaymen.

A masked doctor explains that poison has driven the kingdom mad, and William is the only remaining knight. Is the doctor trustworthy, or has he been struck with the madness, too? William must choose between pretending he's brave enough to battle an invincible clockwork dragon, or letting the masked doctor "cure" him with medieval brain surgery.

Available for Kindle for just 99 cents.

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The Babysitter

Beatrix ransacked her bookshelves. She had Baby-proofing Ogre Caves, Foundling Fire Elementals, but not the book she needed. She tossed up her hands. “Zenda never returned my copy of Raise A Little Hellion! Curse that selfish sea hag. She’s probably getting it moldy, too.”

Sir Eric ducked as the baby imp threw another fireball at his face. “So you don’t know how to calm him down?” he yelped.

She shrugged. “You could get him some demon milk? I’ll summon Beelzeboob.”

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The Queen

Captain Eric was on Hexagon VI. He had come to negotiate trade routes with the insectoid queen, but Queen Apidae had ended up taking him back to her chambers.

Afterwards, she gestured to a bottle of amber liquid on her bedside table. "Mead?"

"No thanks. I'm more of a beer guy."

"Are you sure?" she said. "It's a good pain killer. It will help relax you in your final moments."

"I'm fine. Anyway, I'll call you later."

"Later? When later?"

He shrugged. "Tomorrow? Next week?"

Startled, she raised her antennae. "Wait, does romance not kill Humans?"

"…What?"

She cringed. "This is awkward. I wasn't looking for a boyfriend. In my species, the males don't survive the experience. Besides, I was just trying to gain an advantage in trade negotiations."

He bolted upright. "You only took me to your room because you thought it would kill me?"

"Pretty much."

He wagged his finger. "You're not getting out of a relationship that easily. We are going to date, and I'm going to send you gifts and love notes, and you're going to like it!"

"Alright, fine. But I'm going to keep trying to kill you."

"That's pretty standard for my relationships."

He climbed out of bed and kissed her on the cheek. "See you later, honey."

"Ugh, Humans!"

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The Werewolf Test

Sir Eric shoved the villager in a cage and locked the door. "Full moon tonight. If you don't change, I will release you."

"People keep demanding proof that I'm not the werewolf!" the villager yelped. "I've felt so harried!"

Sir Eric scowled. "I would try to feel shaved if I were you."