Lynn Katzenmeyer's Blog

8 Romance Books that are living in my head rent free right now.

These are in no particular order I’ll flag spoilers and mention content warnings where relevant but I just want to share with y’all about the books that just won’t leave and maybe if other people read them and tell me about them my brain will give up a bit more real estate for other thoughts like work and snacks. 

The Land of the Beautiful Dead by  R. Lee Smith 

Content warnings: Violence, so much violence, zombies, abuse, suicide, parental death, child death, torture, and mentions of sexual assault (there are probably more but I can’t recall off hand go in assuming more content warnings)

This book has broken me. In all the worse and best ways. It is a tome. Coming in at a whopping 733 pages, this book is intimidating to start. I’ll admit, when I went into it, I fully thought I’d DNF it after 25% percent. 

The writing of Smith is elegant, the story unfolds in a way that reminded me of floating down the river. The hours passed, the scenery passed, but I didn’t realize how much had changed (in the book and about myself) until I finished it and put the book down. That’s right, I read it in one sitting. I couldn’t stop. 

This book has all the story elements I usually avoid. An immortal lead, zombies, characters put into situations where they have to sell their bodies for safety, bitter hopelessness in a miserable world. And yet, I could not stop reading.

When I was done reading The Land of the Beautiful Dead, I was so enraptured by the way Smith approaches themes of death, dying, immortality, undying, and most importantly the good death. What does it mean to die a good death? What are you willing to sacrifice to have it? Who deserves a good death? And for the truly evil, should suffering continue after death.

Standing ovation. Gold Star. This book is a 10/10 thought provoker. There is steam, smut, and a brilliantly built romance that I should probably mention more, but you can get those in any Beauty and the Beast retelling. What I haven’t found anywhere else is the thought provoking, emotion churning, terrifyingly beautiful story in The Land of the Beautiful Dead. 

Serpents Mate by Susan Trombley

Anyone who follows me on Goodreads knows that I love alien romances. It is my current favorite sub genre to read. I like them campy, I like them scary, I like them weird, I like them steamy. Susan Trombley is the queen of making the truly alien romantic. 

The first book in the Iriduan Test Subject’s book (The Scorpion’s Mate) is brilliant, don’t get me wrong, but The Serpent’s Mate is the one that lives rent free. 

Particularly one scene. If you’ve read the book, the scene is the kiss. 

Unlike the first two books of the series, the alien male lead in Serpent’s Mate had volunteered to be a test subject. This book explores themes of patriotism, sacrifice, and what it means to choose between ideologies to find the truth. 

The sex scenes are steamy, the biology is fascinating, and the romance feels natural in the strangeness of a human and a serpent alien genetic test subject. 

To be honest, I adore every book I’ve ready by Susan Trombley. She really understands how to make the gaps in culture, language, and biology challenging to the characters and a key part of how the romance builds. Her books are wild rides of weird and I’m here for it. But this one is the one I can’t stop thinking about....and I first read it in October 2018.  

Glint (The Plated Prisoner Series Book 2) by Raven Kennedy

Content warnings: Most warnings related to violence and sex, power imbalance related abuse, cheating, harems, rot.

The most recent inclusion on this list, I read the first three books of the Plated Prisoner series over the weekend. The second book is the one that’s just broken me in all the best ways. 

This series is a King Midas retelling that is honestly a little hard to read. Not because of the prose (which are lovely) but the way that Raven Kennedy hits hurts. 

This wasn’t the first series of Raven Kennedy’s I’ve read (I loved the Pack of Misfits series and couldn’t get into the Cupid series and intend to try out her other books), but Gild, Glint, and Gleam punch with an accuracy and strength I was not prepared for in a King Midas retelling. 

The gut punches started in book one chapter one and didn’t stop (book three ends in a cliff hanger and book four isn’t out until May 2022 and I’m only a little bitter about it).

The themes that have captured my mind in a gilded cage are why this book has been placed on this list before the welcome is even overstayed. 

The series could have been titled: 

Power, Security, and the Art of Weaponizing Love: What we give up to feel safe and how to get it back. 

I stayed up until 3am reading this series and I don’t regret a second of my lost sleep. I felt every cutting word as Auren’s story developed. The world unfolded like a golden sheet floating into a fire. Absolutely brilliant and I feel my understanding of how I as a person have traded my own power, love, and sense of self for feelings of safety. I receive a catharsis I didn’t know I needed related to this trade off and I’m earnestly grateful for having read these books. That said, they’re absolutely brutal. Had I tried to read these ten years ago, I probably would have ended up in a much worse place. Please take the content warnings at the top into consideration before proceeding. 

Beyond the Next Star by Melody Johnson

Content warning: PTSD, violence, medical related humiliation and trauma, alien abduction, human/non-human pairing

Beyond the Next Star is a different sort of alien abduction romance and it’s beautiful. The story is in dual POV and we learn early on that the alien male lead has purchased a human as an emotional support animal.

Yup, you read that right. 

Alien romances have referenced humans as pets for years so I didn’t think this book would be as earth shattering for me as it was. But it was. 

The story is a series of emotional whiplashes as we follow these two sentient beings coming to grasp with the reality of their individual situation. There are hilarious scenes, like the alien trying to train the human in much the way humans train dogs. And there are gut punches as we follow the female human character as she’s treated like a pet and regular vet trips and all the misery that entails. 

I think of this book all the time. How much agency do our pets have? I’ll be honest, as a pet lover this book has really made me question my life and what I’m doing with it. 

Grr!: An Alien Warrior Romance by Zeta Star

Content warning: Alien abduction, non-human/human pairing

This book made me angry. Immediately after I read it, I wrote a several hundred word diatribe to my friends explaining how angry this book made me. 

Why did it make me angry?

A book called Grr! Has no right to be as good as this book was. The title and blurb do not do this book justice.

It hits all the charming, steamy, campy, fun that the rom-com sphere of alien romances hit while having an action packed adventure without the deus ex machina that seems to happen in most alien romances that would compare. 

I adored the way that the characters worked together despite a language barrier. I loved that they worried about each other feeling taken advantage of as they fell for each other. I loved this book so much, after reading it on KU....I bought it and then proceeded to pester everyone I know to read this book because I needed more people to be as aggressively angry about how stupidly good this book is when it has no right to be with a title of Grr!

Love Code by Ann Aguirre

This is another sequel that outshines the first book in my opinion. Strange Love is the first book in the Galactic Love series and it’s precious. I mean, there is a talking dog. What more do you need? 

Apparently a lot because that’s what Aguirre gave me in Love Code. I downloaded this after a glowing review on reddit and this book did not let me down. It’s probably the least dark of all the books on my list. Just thinking about the characters in this book lightens my heart, warms my soul, and makes me positively giddy. 

The amount of consent and consent affirmation in this book is a breath of fresh air (particularly compared to the rest of the books on this list). 

The romance is genuine and explores a lot of the themes from the other books, but in a positive context. When the power imbalance between the leads in Love Code is addressed, it’s to affirm that both characters understood the power imbalance and how to make sure the one with less power was safe, secure, and knew they were not expected to  behave in a certain way to continue getting that safety. 

The book explores life, living, and unlife through the lens of an AI into a meatsuit. Aguirre approaches discovering what it means to be alive with and without flesh in a hilarious, heartfelt book that will forever be embedded in my brain. 

Gladiator Queen by Auryn Haley

This is another series I read back in 2018. The whole trilogy is available in a bundle on Kindle Unlimited. It was a story I initially clicked on because the title cracked me up and I was in an ironic mood. (Sidenote: this is how I fell down the Ice Planet rabbit hole also in 2018. My irony reads often lead to obsessive fandom). 

The details are fuzzy on what happens in which of the three books so I’ll keep my discussion to why this lives rent free in my head. 

Gladiator Queen is a story of a delicate princess thrust into the gladiatorial pits of her country because of political machinations. The world building enraptured me. The action sequences were heart pounding, terrifying, and gut wrenching in a way that I couldn’t look away, even when I wanted to.  It’s clear that Hadley spent a lot of time researching gladiators, fighting styles, and common injuries. 

That alone might have been enough to make this series refuse to leave my cranial apartment complex, but there is so much more to the Gladiator Queen. The romance is a slow burn that at no point feels guaranteed. The stakes are high and when the life and death stakes seem to go away, higher stakes take their place. 

This series also spends time to live in the horror of the pits, but, unlike a lot of violent content in romance novels, it spends the time after to process the pain. The characters struggle with the guilt of what they’ve been forced to do to survive and lean on each other to make it through. The characters’ emotional struggles and handling of their trauma in a way that feels both real and cathartic is art, pure and simple. 

That said, I cannot get myself to reread this series, which is rare for me. I think about this book a lot and it has had an impact on the way I see references to gladiators in the media. 

Phoenix Unbound by Grace Draven

Grace Draven is an absolute character queen. I waffled between Radiance and Phoenix Unbound for this spot because both books of Draven’s live rent free in my head, but I went with Phoenix Unbound because it has a few more elements that linger for me. 

This book hits a few themes that other books on this list have hit. As I wrote this paragraph I discovered that this book has all the elements of the other books that live rent free in my head in one way or the other.

The characters struggle with themes of self vs the whole, hiding elements of the individual’s identity, trading power for security. There is exploration of the good death, and culture shock. The characters have to grapple with what it means to perpetuate their own ideologi

On top of all that, it also has gladiators. I know what doesn’t this book have?

So those are eight of the books living rent free in my head. Honorable (non romance) mentions: ,most books by Drew Hayes (if you play DND and haven’t read NPCs what are you doing with your life), Caitlin Doughty, and William Shatner’s autobiography Up Till Now.

What books are living rent free in your head? I’m dying to know.

Adrian from the Syndicate Series is known for his culinary prowess. Here is one of my favorite recipes of his. Souvlaki.

For this recipe, I used lamb chislic from Goette Farms but it is just as tasty with chicken or pork!

Enjoy!

Step one: Mise en place.
Iris, a tidy kitchen is a happy kitchen. Lay out all the ingredients you’ll need and you won’t forget to put them in.

Cut the vegetables. No, not like that. Iris, they need to be as close in size to the other vegetables or they won’t cook evenly!

Mix the onions, peppers, garlic, and cut a lemon and squeeze the juice over it….or just 2TBSP per pound of meat. Whichever is easier.

Add in oregano, but not too much or I’ll know.

Finally pour over the olive oil and make sure the marinade is coated over all the meat, veg, and mix in the garlic and spices. Put in the fridge until ready to grill….or bake.

Hi all!

As you know Ursa Minors was released yesterday. As you may not know, there was a section missing! (Trust me, no one is more upset about this than me.) I have updated the manuscript so any downloads as of this morning should be correct (how do you know if your version is correct? If there is a drop cap in the first word of a new chapter, you have the correct version.


If your copy is drop capless and you don’t want to wait a week for amazon to update your copy (I have the request out it might take longer than a week I’m so so soooo sorry). I have included the missing section here.

There isn’t any major plot spoilers but it’s a nice character moment for Trinity that I’d hate for y’all to miss out on.
I’m going to add a few irrelevant images so there isn’t any accidental spoilers in RSS feeds then the missing section will be right below it.

I’d like to than Julie again for bringing this to my attention yesterday. And apologize from the absolute bottom of my heart that this major error slipped through. I’m so embarrassed that I missed this, I try to improve with each new release and I just dropped the ball here.

If your version looks like this, you have the version with the missing section and my deepest apologies!

If you have the drop cap, you have the version with the inclusion below and you shouldn’t miss a beat.

Here is the missing section:

I didn’t know what to think. I needed help on all of that, but I wasn’t sure if I was prepared to accept help from them.

“I’m doing what I can with what I have. My cubs are cared for, and we’re making it work.”

“Oh honey, we’ve been young parents too, we know what it’s like trying to balance working and a family. You don’t have a pack to rely on. What are you –“

I held up a hand to stop my mother from continuing her speech, “Money is tight. But I have a plan.”

My dad raised an eyebrow. He didn’t say anything but the careful way he tore a hunk of bacon before devouring it told me all I needed to know. His doubt stung.

“What’s your plan, dear?”

I sat up straighter, “I’m going to save up money and purchase a plot of land at the Bearden.”

Mom nodded, “With your job as…”

“We don’t have much, Trinity, but we can offer you something,” dad said, putting down his bacon and pulling out a his wallet.

“I don’t want your money. I’ve been given enough charity for the time being.”

“You’re a mother now, Trinity, you need to put your pups er cubs first. Set aside your pride and take the help we’re offering.”

“It’s not pride keeping me from taking your money. It’s what you expect from me for it. I can’t just waltz you into the cubs lives like a ready made parent-approved home life. The cubs have already lost too many people for that. I can’t risk you – “

“You were the one who ran out on us Trinity.” She said, reaching to grasp my hand, I pulled away. It would be too easy to accept mom’s warm embrace. To have her pet my hair and tell me everything was going to be alright.

It was going to be alright.

I had the cubs. The RSC helped as best they could. I had Evan.

I had Evan. He was more than just a helpful friend or absent parent to the cubs. I bet if I asked him to spend more time helping out with the cubs he’d jump at the chance. In fact, he’d practically begged for more cub responsibilities.

“I’m the cubs guardian but they don’t think of me as their mother,” Mads in particular, “Give me time to get them used to the new normal and we’ll bring you into their lives. Okay?”

Mom smiled; it was a small one. Clearly, she hadn’t gotten what she wanted, but it was more than I’d been prepared to offer when I entered the Bunk and Galley.

“I think we’ll take the offer of the pack in Grand Portage. You have our number, let us know when you’re ready.”

I ate the rest of the meal with my parents in awkward silence. We’d become strangers yet they were so familiar to me. I’d long since lost their respect as the perfect Beta Princess, as they had lost my respect as my perfect parents.

“When did it all get so complicated?” I asked my donut.

Dad rubbed my back, “It’s just part of growing up.”

 

Evan had the cubs as ready as he could get them when I returned to the cabin. Dinny was racing around with no shirt, crying at Penny who was wearing a shirt that wasn’t hers. Odi was under the table eating something I wasn’t sure was food, and Mads was nowhere to be seen.

“How’d it go?” I asked Evan.

The poor grizzly’s ears and neck were bright red, “I swear they were behaving like perfect angels until five minutes ago. It’s like they heard your car coming down the drive.”

I patted him on the back, “They’re all still breathing and I don’t see any blood. I say you did a pretty good job.”

He seemed a little relieved at that, “I have a few hours before I need to be at the Tooth and Claw, if it’s okay with you, I’m going to take Odi and put all the camping gear away.”

“He’s all yours.”

On the Eve of the release of my eighth book, I’m going to talk about my biggest insecurity.: being found out as an Impostor.

It’s more than doubt. It’s more than insecurity. It’s more than anxiety. It’s a constant nagging feeling that you don’t belong. That your life is a lie. That everything you’ve worked hard for to achieve wasn’t earned. 

Every critical comment is truth and every bit of praise is a lie. It’s pervasive. Daunting. Paralyzing. 

And you’re supposed to pretend you’re not feeling it. Because faking it until you make it is what you’re supposed to do, right?

Let me tell you about Impostor Syndrome. 

In a few hours, my eighth book, Ursa Minors, will be out on Amazon to purchase or borrow using Kindle Unlimited.  I was fortunate to have dozens of preorders. Fans of the books reached out after it was delayed and sent good wishes along to the proofreader for whom I delayed the publication. 

I have over 1,500 ratings on Goodreads and hundreds of positive reviews on Amazon. I’ve been a full-time writer for almost a year. 

Long story short, I have the success that many self-published authors hope for in their “dare to dream big” fantasies. 

And I feel like a fraud. 

I feel like a failure. 

I feel like every 5 star review is a person being way too nice and all the one star reviews aren’t brutal enough. And that is my Impostor Syndrome. 

I feel guilty all the time that the books I love to write are the books that people want to read. 

I feel guilty that those books aren’t better. That I didn’t put more of my heart, soul, or editing budget into them.

I struggle as a self published author balancing investing in more expensive editors, getting a proper formatter, and other experts versus the return on that investment. And the fact that I am fortunate enough to even be able to ponder that while authors I’ve read and enjoyed are working three jobs and are happy to sell a single copy of their books. 

Impostor Syndrome cuts hard, it cuts deep, and is so common. I can’t even say it’s rarely talked about, because it’s not some deep dark hidden secret in the author world. My writing group talks about dealing with Impostor’s Syndrome all the time. And the tragedy of this is that sometimes I feel like an Impostor for even talking about having Impostor’s Syndrome because I don’t feel good enough  to even have it. Impostor Syndrome is for people who are good enough to be in a position of relative success but don’t think they belong there. 

Let that sink in for a second. I feel like an Impostor for even daring to admit I have Impostor Syndrome.

There are many better definitions of Impostor Syndrome, but the only one that matters to me is fucking fuckety fuck this. 

So why bring this up? Why post this on the blog instead of a teaser for Ursa Minors or a plea to buy my books?

I think so much of my life as an author is hoping that my books get seen, read, and reviewed, that I’ve forgotten that I am a person. I’m not an author. I’m Lynn Katzenmeyer. I have insecurities and flaws. I have hobbies and favorite foods. 

Since going fulltime, I’ve lost myself to my Impostor Syndrome. Fighting to prove to myself that my books and through that I’m worth the time and energy and money that people spend with my books. 

My books are a part of me, I’d be lying if I said they weren’t. But I’m not just my books. 

I think authors are pressured to maintain an image. The public face for their authorial empire. The perfect narrative machines. We cultivate the imperfections we allow to show. A picture of a messy office on Instagram, a mention of procrastinating on a deadline on twitter, a Facebook post apologizing for a delay. Because being honest with our readers that the book we’re shilling isn’t our favorite, or we were convinced into a developmental change that we aren’t 100% confident in, or that the book the readers are begging for is beyond our current creative grasp. (Of course none of these are things I’m dealing with because all my new releases are my favorite and I’m totally confident in every word of every book........)

Long blog post short TLDR:  Impostor Syndrome sucks. Ursa Minors is great. #buymybooks?

If you are experiencing Impostor Syndrome, here are things I have found that help me. 

Talking to people in the field I’m in. For me, it’s other authors. I’ve read their books. I know how amazing they are. Hearing them have similar doubts and insecurities as me helps. A lot. 

Memes. Google Impostor Syndrome Memes and feel all the feels. (I would link them or have them here but I’m not sure about how embedding other people’s work is with the legalities and while I’m happy to pay artists to license stuff I’m not paying for memes for a blog post sorry)

Watching Chef Stephanie Cmar on Top Chef. Yup, I know that sounds weird. Let me explain. Season 10 episode one, she doesn’t make the cut to be on Top Chef. Does she disappear into obscurity? No, not our girl Stephanie, she comes back in Season 11. After a brutal controversial elimination in Season 11, she again, returns. Stephanie then comes into Top Chef Season 17 All Stars. This woman opens up this season fangirling about the other chefs. Her interview cutaways throughout the season are about her self doubt and insecurities. Her personal failings but she goes back every challenge and does her best and has fun. There is a brilliant interview where she talks about making it to Italy and just being excited to have done it. To be happy with her food and to do her best. 

I’m tearing up just writing this which is how much I’ve relied on Top Chef for my Imposter Syndrome. But she is such a treasure and I wish she had a restaurant so I could try her food! 

Knowing what is Impostor Syndrome and what is genuine self criticism. Am I being hard on myself because I don’t feel like I’m good enough or am I being hard on myself because I need to improve?

Where is the criticism coming from? Am I editing? ~Might be something to work on. Am I laying in bed at night trying to sleep? ~probably Impostor Syndrome. 

I am so grateful and humbled for every person who has ever picked up one of my books, even if it was to read a half a page and say “nope, not for me.” The past year has been a wild and crazy year and I don’t know what’s coming next. But whatever comes next, I’ll still write. I might just be slower at it ;)

Ursa Minors releases Feburary 22nd. Full Disclosure: Fallen Lorde is still my favorite of all the books I’ve written, but Ursa Minors is a pretty close second. For those of you that choose to read it, I hope you enjoy it.

I love you all.

Yup, so I haven’t left my house in….. A long time. And so my only friends are characters in books, movies, and television shows, and voices on podcasts and youtube. It’s fine. I’m not crazy. I know they’re not really my friends… I do, I swear.

So I want to tell y’all what my favorites have been the past little while and because I market my books to myself, I assume if you like my books, you’ll like these things and maybe it’ll tide you over while I wait impatiently for the proofread manuscript of Ursa Minors. (Long story covid related, I’m doing my best to speed it up).

Alrighty, so let’s start with books.

Bearing in mind that I read almost exclusively Kindle Unlimited content, here are some of my faves in the past recent while. I’ll also flag if there’s any bias on my part with the books because I’m apparently a real author now so I have author friends and stuff which is kinda cool. 

The Clecanian series by Aveline Victoria Theo started a bit clunky but by like 10% in I was hooked and suddenly it was 3am and I’d read all three books in the series. I am desperate for her to release Rejo’s (sp? I don’t remember the exact spelling but if you’ve read it you know who I’m talking about) story because I’m shipping him so hard with one of the human girls I cannot handle it. 

Darkest Moon by Linsey Hall. Y’all. I am so invested in this story I cannot handle the wait for the next book. There’s magic and fated mates and rejected fated mates (which is obviously my jam). It’s this delicious mix of shifter fated mate, witches, and guilds. It’s like the best parts of Annette Marie’s Guild Codex with werewolves. Linsey needs to write faster because I want more Wolf Queen! (I haven’t read her other stuff but in doing this write up I realized that this is like the seventy-something title on her goodreads page so I’m diving in. I’ll come up for air eventually!)

Speaking of Guild Codex I’m deeply depressed that the series and the Demonized Guild codex series are over but they ended so well I reread all of them again and just had the warm and fuzzy action adventure which is great. Eagerly awaiting more on the Warped series) Annette Marie is so talented and I’m obsessed.

Other rereads: All of Hailey Edwards, all the time. Drew Hayes had a new release the Villains Code book two which I’d been waiting for…. For years. Literal years. So excited about it.

All the Ice Planet Barbarian, Icehome, Aspect and Anchor, Fireblood series….again. I love Ruby Dixon her books are campy and hilarious and heartfelt and sexy and I just love them. I cannot count the number of times I’ve read them. My favorites in no particular order. 

Barbarian’s Mate

Barbarian’s Redemption

Willa’s Beast

Devi’s Distraction

** I know these authors. Well know like know, know as in we chat online but haven’t met in person because plague. I’ve read their books but these are my recs

Elizabeth Brady: Over Christmas I read all of her books. Literally all of them. Most are short, they’re all sweet. And they gave me the giddy feeling of flirty books that just make me happy.  The Blakemoor Series is a great place to start.

Bethany Anne Lovejoy: Y’all if you like the Syndicate Series, you will love The City of Crows. Her books get better and better with each release and I’m still obsessed with Roland from Your Promise. 

D.H. Willison: Finding Your Harpy Place came out and I mean. Rinloh. What else do I need to say? She’s amazing and I love her and only good things are allowed to happen to her if I can make demands. 

TV, I’ll break it down by US streaming service that I watched it on, if you’re not in the US, I have no idea where to find this stuff so I’m very sorry but it’s worth finding. Bonus shout out for Beforeigners which I mentioned in my last quarantine blog post. I’m still obsessed with it and yes, it is indeed getting a season two so y’all better watch it…. Please… I need more of Beforeigners in my life. 

Ghosts- Amazon Prime. British comedy about a couple who inherits a house infested with ghosts. After a death/near death experience the lady of the couple can see the ghosts and it is so funny. It’s funny, heartfelt. And has Lolly Adefope who I love (because I watched Taskmaster first and adore her). 

Taskmaster- Youtube (yes I paid money for seasons of this show on youtube that’s how good it is). Greg Davies and little Alex Horne gather comedy friends for a bizarre show of tasks ranging from simple things to complicated things. It is so funny. I have no proper words for how much I love this show and how eager I am for Lee Mack (of Would I Lie to You glory) to be on the new season. 

Virgin River- Netflix  This is a currently watching. I read the books when I was in high school and got like four episodes in before I realized why the story and characters felt so familiar. It’s not like ground breaking television or anything but I watched it when I was sick and it was comforting and romantic and the music is great. 

Truth Seekers- Amazon Prime Much like Ghosts this show was a pleasant surprise. Another British Comedy (this one tragically not renewed for more seasons), Truth Seekers is another hilarious, heartfelt, and kinda spooky show.

Bridgerton- Netflix- Okay, yeah, I watched it for the butts. Sooo many butts. I’m basically Tina from Bob’s Burgers. With Bridgerton I adored Penelope (so much so that I went out and bought her book in the Bridgerton series). There are a lot of elements of the show I fell in love with, but I struggle with other elements. Not saying what because it’s a spoiler but believe me, I have thoughts.  I will watch season two but other than Penelope’s book, I didn’t really feel the need to read the books (I’m not super into Historical Romance) and based on a major plot point from the show that I’ve been assured is in the books, I’ll probably give the rest a pass too. 

Queen’s Gambit- Netflix- Confession, I wanted to stop watching after the first episode because I wasn’t really gripped, but I’m glad we kept going because it was really good. I’m not super into the drugged out prodigy trope so I kinda rolled my eyes at those parts (sorry I know it’s like a thing for people but I just wanted to watch her play chess). But it was a really fun watch. 

FARGO SEASON FOUR: Hulu: Okay, so if you watch nothing else on this list, watch the first 20 minutes of fargo season four episode one. It’s gorgeous. The whole season is just cinematic art. Every frame is a painting. Chris Rock does shockingly well in a role of the baddy. Orietta Mayflower is terrifying and if you wonder what I sound like, has my very accent. 

Rewatches:

Peacock: Top Chef, The Office, Parks and Rec, Face Off

Netflix: Grey’s Anatomy, Great British Baking show

Hulu: Bob’s burgers (they have a thing now where you can just watch musical episodes and I’m here for it), King of the Hill, Lodge 49, Archer, How I Met Your Mother, Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Movies:

I’m not a big movie watcher but here’s the list:

Extra Ordinary (Amazon but it was a rental). This is an Irish romantic-horror-comedy and my husband and I have not stopped quoting it since October. The first five minutes of this movie had me laughing so hard I was in tears. The rest of the movie was a great romcom with horror elements that weren’t too scary for me (I hate being scared). 

The Big Short (amazon rental) Okay, so I had seen this before back when it came out. But with the $GME thing I needed Margot Robbie to explain shorts to me again. Plus Steve Carrell is a treasure. 

Youtube:

Ordinary Sausage: Some dude decided to make sausages out of random stuff and I’m here for it. Seriously, my husband and I watch every episode together. “Hey der folks, welcome back….I guess” Gets me every time. 

Evan and Katelyn: Two crafters who share their love of making and their love of each other. They’re funny and adorable, and if they haven’t inspired a contemporary romance writer to a best selling novel, I’ll eat my hat.

With Cindy: I’m so here for her insight on books, movies, and just life in general. She cracks me up and even if she hates a book, I kinda want to read it just to enjoy the pain with her. 

Rachloveslife: A lovely Canadian mom who looks like a supermodel teaching me about trendy tik-tok recipes. I don’t know why I adore her so much, but every Saturday afternoon, I’m watching her and Francesca (her mixer) make cookies and stuff and it makes life a little brighter. Plus her and Christopher are so cute together I can’t handle it. 

I’ve made a lot of blankets. I crochet like a fiend and the amount of granny squares in my house has reached store levels. 

I’ve recently taken up needlepoint (cross stitch and embroidery). That’s been going shockingly well and I’m hooked.

We are 11 days to the release of Ursa Minors and I am so excited to share Evan’s story with you all.

Earlier this week, I was invited to write a guest blog post on the romance bloke’s blog.

And there was only one thing I wanted to talk about:

Why fated mates?

Hope you all enjoy reading it as I have writing it. Though, if I’m honest I could probably write a whole book on my favorite romance tropes….. after I get a few more books out though ;)

I’m not good with holiday stuff. But I did try while writing Tooth and Claw. Here’s another deleted scene of Lynn’s attempt at Holiday magic. Enjoy!

“The human is humming again,” Evan growled, looking through the window at our barmaid, “What’s she wearing on her head?”

“That, my dear friend,” I said, patting his back, “Is a headband with reindeer ears on it. It’s cute. And festive.”

“Festive,” he growled again. He flipped the burgers and pressed the flat of the spatula against the meat simmering out all the juices. 

I bit my lip and made my way out of the kitchen. 

“Santa Baby and hurrrryyyy dooownnn the chimney toonniiighhhht” Sarah sang off key and my wolf whined under my skin. The barmaid pulled drafts for the table of college kids celebrating the end of finals. 

I never quite understood the human fascination with the holiday. Wolves celebrated solstice much the same way as Sarah celebrated Christmas just a few days earlier. But we didn’t sing. 

Wolves and singing did not mix. From Evan’s reaction, bears and singing didn’t much either. 

“Youuuu better watch out,” Sarah sang to me with a bright smile, “You better not cry.” 

She looked at me expectantly, but I didn’t know the words. 

“I swear that cult you grew up in ruins all the fun of holidays.” 

The human brushed passed me, continuing her strange song about lists and visits to town. She set the drinks down in front of the young men who joined her in song. 

“Are we the weird ones?” I asked Evan through the window, “Should we...sing?”

If looks could turn a person to stone, Evan shot me that look, “Earl might have made us decorate but you cannot make me sing.”

“Could be fun,” I watched Sarah and the college kids laugh and start singing another song about bells but the lyrics didn’t make any sense, “What does batman and rotten eggs have to do with Christmas?”

“About as much as the rest of it.” Evan slid the burgers into the window, “Just ignore them like we do every year. Tomorrow we’ll deep clean the pub and--”

“What if we didn’t do the Christmas deep clean?” I asked, “What if we did the human thing. Take a day off, drink some hot cocoa--”

“-- Chocolate makes you sick.”

“Watch some movies, open presents.”

“I didn’t get you anything and I’m not shopping.”

“We can make something! Better yet, we can learn a new skill and make each other things!”

Evan grumbled, “I might have made you something already...”

Now I was confused, “You made me something?”

“When Earl was in and out of the hospital... it’s not a big deal.”

“AND JOKER RAN AWAAAYYYY” the table burst into laughter. 

“I’ll get these burgers out to the table.”

This year had been rough for Evan. It was easy for me to forget in my own pain. Earl had been my mentor and surrogate family. But he was Evan’s family. 

I dropped the plates on the table and went to my office.

There had to be something I could do in a few hours as a gift to Evan. 

There was paperwork, cleaning supplies, a broken chair. All this was stuff we owned together. It wouldn't do to give him that. 

“What are you doing back here? Did your arm run out of juice?” Sarah asked.

“Evan got me something for sol-Christmas and I didn’t get him anything and now--”

“Oh, OH,” Sarah’s eyes widened along with her grin, “Are you two finally...?”

“Stop it, no, you know we’re just friends.” My cheeks heated despite my protestations. We were just friends. But Evan wanted to be more. 

My wolf just wouldn’t allow it.

“Well, Evan is a grumpy goose,” Sarah said, “What does he like to do in his spare time?”

“Work? Work out?” I said, “Evan doesn’t really do spare time.”

“What about something sentimental? An inside joke for just the two of you? It doesn’t have to be big, just a small trinket that’ll remind him of that moment?”

I thought back to my friendship with Evan. Our ups and downs. Our moments of triumph and loss. 

It all was this pub. Earl. But there was more, it was us.

“Thanks Sarah, I’ll think on that.”

“Better hurry, we’re closing soon,” she started something about being home for the holidays and sashayed out of the office, leaving a cloud of lavender perfume behind her. 

I knew what to make for him. 

After closing, Sarah finished her cleaning and departed, “Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night....er morning.” Her laughter could be heard until she started her car door. Another song blared through her speakers. 

“I’ll see you upstairs, I have to grab something.”

I knew what I was going to get him. He might not like it, but it was the best I could do on short notice. 

I dug in the pantry and liquor cupboard until I found it. A bottle of Jack Daniels. I’d have to add an extra to our order next week, but this was worth it. I snagged an onion and made my way upstairs. 

“I don’t know anything about wrapping so here,” I said, thrusting the strange pairing into his hands.

“I’m pretty sure I’d remember if humans gifted each other onions for Christmas,” he said sniffing it, “Unless you poisoned it.”

“You know I’m not good with chemicals. It’s just a regular old onion. Sarah said gifts could be from the heart. To tug at memories. You remember the time you stole my car and filled it with onions?”

Evan smirked, “I’m sure I didn’t steal it. If memory serves, I was running errands for Earl. And you refused to come with or unload.”

“You called me a one-armed bitch.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” his apology dripped with sincerity. He reached behind him and pulled out a neatly wrapped box, “Here.”

I opened it while Evan pulled out two glasses. 

“What is it?”

I pulled out what looked like a pile of yarn loosely knotted together.

“It’s a scarf,” he said, “I learned how to knit while Earl was in the hospital. It’s my first project.”

“It’s lovely,” I lied. 

Evan started laughing, “Here’s the real one.”

The scarf he handed me was still missing stitches, but it resembled a scarf. Deep emerald green with purple stripes. 

“Matches your eyes....and your arm,” he said, “Your two most distinct features after your sass.”

“Merry Christmas, Evan.”

“Merry Christmas, Lee.”

2020 has been a rough year for just about everyone. I’ve been incredibly lucky to write my books and have readers who enjoy them. I hope that 2021 will be bright and filled with wonderful stories.

Stay safe this holiday season. Wear your mask. Don’t drink and drive. Keep an eye on Grandma around reindeer.

This fall really got away from me. Don’t fret, I’m still hard at work on Ursa Minors, Secrets of the Void, and a few other side projects that I can’t quite tear myself away from, including the backstory of the empathic councilwoman who kept Adrian and Iris on their toes in Mark of the Void.

Don’t worry if you haven’t read the second Syndicate book yet, there are no spoilers in this snipped of Callie’s story.

Neon museum Las Vegas photocred: Lynn Katzenmeyer. Oh yeah, I took this pic, bask in my photographic mediocrity.

I wove my way through the crowd of tourists rubbernecking at my fellow buskers. A family with a stroller stopped right in front of me to watch a group of street artists fold corn husks into elaborate roses. I ducked around them and nearly ran into a group of college students watching a break dancer starting their intoxication early or still drunk from last night. For a Monday morning in late March, the Fremont Street Experience was hopping. I found my circle and set up for the day. 

I hadn’t planned on making my living busking in Downtown Las Vegas, but I quickly found it paid more than the grad school fellowship program for which my ethnographic research led me to Vegas in the first place. Initially, I came looking to study Las Vegas street culture. A year later, I was a part of it. 

“Good morning Calliope,” my favorite security officer, David Martinez waved as he passed on his three wheeled scooter that 

I’d dubbed the chariot. 

I waved at his receding figure and continued my setup. Any street performer has their own unique schools of thought to draw in crowds. Some rely on their talent, others loud music, sex, jokes, but I rely on gimmicks. I had a rotation of gimmicks.  When I worked overnight, I dressed in all manner of get up and took photos with revellers for tips. My standard was Vegas showgirl, but my most lucrative was slutty nun. During daylight hours, when the street was quieter and the crowds thinner, I got to be more creative. Today I had hoped to use my innate talents and try my hand at empathic reading. 

Dressed in an elaborate fortune teller robe complete with a purple turban with giant jeweled feather brooch atop my head. My makeup was intense, even for Vegas. My light green eyes were framed with heavy dark liner that was more reminiscent of raccoons than human female, but it helped sell the look. I sat on my trusty paint bucket and sat on the cute clawed ottoman on the opposite side of the circle. As long as my visitors weren’t giants, our knees wouldn’t touch. 

Finally, I set my sign out. I’d spent a good portion of the previous night carefully painting it in a Ye Old English font. “Calliope the Magnificent palm reading.” And I waited. 

Once the street performer has their crowd, the trick is to get them to pay. Back when I was just a grad student, the performers I interviewed had a few methods to get the cash out of the wallets of bystanders and into their tip jars. The traditionalists relied on their talent. They trusted they were good enough at their craft tourists would willingly part with the cash. The pity-ables carried their handwritten cardboard signs with their story. They relied on either pity or generosity, depending on who you ask. My style of street performance leans to what I’d called in my ethnographic research as “active sales.” 

I closed my eyes and opened my third eye, sending my tendrils of empathetic understanding out into the street until I found my target. I sought the curious, the lonely, and the ambivalent for this act.  Opening my physical eyes, I saw her clearly. I stood up and pointed at her, making intense eye contact. 

She stood in a group of drunk women, one had a sash reading birthday girl. But my target was sober. Her brown eyes widened when she realized I was pointing at her. The drunk girls pushed her toward my circle. 

“You have a question for Madame Calliope,” I told her in my best Eastern European accent. For a girl from Iowa, I’d yet to be called on my affected accents. My third eye tendrils sensed the girl’s unease, “Not to worry,” I soothed, “Madame Calliope is here to help. Come, sit.”

She didn’t want to sit. Her apprehension tasted sour on my tongue, but I knew better than to worry. The drunk girls moved her closer to my circle and sat her down. 

“I need your palm, child,” I croned. The girl cautiously moved her hand out to me and I cradled it in my own hands. Her emotions flooded into me. Touch always intensified my third eye, I closed my eyes as visions of her flooded my sight. Visions of the girl in her most emotionally intense moments. Love, loss, fear, I eased my way through the cacophony of this girl’s emotional turmoil until I found bits I could use, “You did not want to come to Vegas,” it was a statement, I opened my eyes and leaned in close so the drunk girls could not hear, “You are not friends with your friends, no? Just one? But you don’t want to be her friend.”

The girl’s eyes widened, but she said nothing, “Let Madame Calliope look closer now,” I traced a finger over her palms, searching deeper. Moments flickered into my consciousness, I used my tendrils on the moments, the feelings of others for the girl in my hands, “You came here to be with your love. An unrequited one. I’m sorry to say dear, it will never be requited. You need to look further out. The young woman, in the coffee shop, the one with the tattoos that scare you. She is the one for you.”

Panic flooded the girl, and she pulled her hand from mine, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Damn it, I was usually better at reading these situations, “You can hide from your true self for only as long as you wish. But Madame Calliope promises you, open your heart, let fear in, and you will find happiness.”

The girl slowly stood up and backed away from my circle. I turned my attention to the group of drunk girls sending my tendrils out until I found the one I was looking for, “Your boyfriend has a surprise waiting for you when you get home.”

In a matter of seconds, the girl with a besotted boy at home was on my ottoman hand in mine. Ten minutes later I’d gone through the entire group, was sixty dollars richer and a crowd had formed. 

Hours later the DJ’s turned the volume up, which was my cue to pack up. That’s when I felt them. I say them, but really it was him. One man with two emotional resonances inside of him. I paused my pack up to find him in the crowd. He was around my age, maybe older than my 21 years. His deep brown eyes met my gaze and he crossed the crowded street to me. 

His gaze briefly left mine to glance down at my sign, “Palm reading?” his deep voice was skeptical. 

I nodded, “But I don’t need to be psychic to know what you’re looking for.” I said, using what little was left of my brain to keep the accent in place. I was overwhelmed by them. 

“And what am I looking for, Calliope?” the corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Me.”

The Syndicate doesn’t begin with just Iris and it certainly won’t end with her. In Mark of the Void Agent Fuller of the ASB was introduced. Here’s a sneak peak at her adventures.

Are you ready for some aliens?

Agent Cannigan Fuller

It’s not every morning a girl wakes up to the sound of a poorly played theremin. That is, unless you’re me. The wavering crescendo of the vaguely electronic sound echoed through the tiny apartment I shared with the Star Trek enthusiast turned thereminist. 

“Fergy! I thought we agreed no theme songs until after I had my coffee,” I grumbled, rolling out of bed. My pet Narflump whined at the loss of my warmth before falling immediately back to sleep. I’d yet to find something that could wake a sleeping Narflump. He’d slept the entire trip from Roswell to our new home. Carrying a fifty pound ball of fluff up a three-story walkup was not fun, and Fergy had been no help. 

The music abruptly stopped and the pitter patter of six feet scurried across the living room floor. I opened my bedroom door to see the blur of bright green fur and teal scales pace around the room. 

“It’s unfair to expect me to wait the day away when you’re the one being lazy,” Fergius Olkandrius Verdalduous the Sixth hissed. Fergius Olkandrius Veradlduous the Sixth was an unnamed species and presumed last of their kind. Better known as Agent Fergy, my roommate.  

Fergy didn’t require rest, which made them an ideal analyst for the Syndicate. Unfortunately, their size prevented them from doing any field work. Fergy on their biggest day was the size of an overweight Norwegian Forest cat. No amount of alien technology or magic mumbo jumbo could fix that without significant cost and resources, something the Alien Secret Bureau didn’t have. 

Fergy started cursing under their breath, marching around the living room. As the last of their kind, Fergy had one of the few languages that my implant didn’t recognize, something they took full advantage of.

“I had a long day, Ferg, let me sleep in for once before I start my new assignment,” I made my way blindly to the kitchen that was still to be unpacked, “You unpacked the theremin before the coffee pot?”

“You need more art in your life and less mind altering chemicals,” Fergy grumped, taking their place back on the sofa. 

“Caffeine is hardly-”

“Do you want the morning run sheet or not?” Fergy interrupted me. 

“Someone’s grumpy. Is everything ok Ferg?” 

Fergy sighed, all four shoulders sagged, “I want to work in the field. I’m sick of following you from diner job to diner job and still being stuck cooped up in dinky apartment after dinky apartment. And when you get called on consulting gigs I don’t even get to come!”

“Glamour is expensive and-”

“Knowing the arguments doesn’t make it any easier. You get all the fun while I do all the work.”

Fergy didn’t do all the work, just all the boring work. I did all the actual work.

The redhead came into the diner with her own mug. She walked to the counter with all the confidence that apparently wearing a military uniform bestowed upon wearing it. Her sapphire blue eyes looked at me expectantly as she held out the white mug with green and red lettering spelling “Calories don’t count at Christmas.”  

“Diner girl. Coff-ee. Hello” the redhead said with an eye roll.

“Oh, of course, ma’am,” I said in the most saccharine tone I could muster, “But I’m going to have to warn you that it’s July, and calories do in fact count.”

I couldn’t tell if her face was insulted, shocked, amused, or bored with my comment because I spun on my heel and walked back to the kitchen.

“See you met Redlight,” the haggard hasher Henry chuckled, “She don’t like new girls. Says they’re too slow.”

“I’ve worked in diners before, Henry,” I said getting another round of Unidentified Flavored Oatmeal for table four, “Why do they even eat here? It’s a tourist trap.”

“Eh, it’s a new base, the surrounding area hasn’t had time to respond to their eh, culinary needs,” Henry said adding a half dozen sausage patties  ‘saucerage’ to the grill, “so they eat here, the food’s decent, and we’re open 24 hours.”

 The Egg Files was the go-to dining destination for alien enthusiasts in the area. The food was themed with a twist. Sure, there were the basics flying sausages, pancakes shaped like alien heads, and bright green fizzy drinks; but Henry was truly an artist at turning the theme into an artform. His Unidentified Flavored Oatmeal was beyond compare. Every bowl was slightly different, unnameable flavor. Henry offered a $1000 reward for the first person to correctly guess the flavor in their bowl. No one in the 30 years he’d been the hasher had been able to correctly identify their bowl of UFOatmeal. 

Thousands flocked to the region each year because of UFO sightings. Hundreds of kitschy small businesses with alien themes had been around since the late 1940’s. Great business for the small town of_____,___. Better business for the ASB. The Alien Secret Bureau was my actual job. Better known to the Syndicate, the larger secret government agency that we worked for, as the Apron Strings Brigade. We were an elite group of people tasked to keep the general public away from the truth about aliens. 

Yup, that’s right, Men in Black are for real, but instead of Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones in badass suits with badder ass tech, you have me, Cannigan Fuller, in an ill fitting apron, slinging coffee for conspiracy theorists and apparently PMSing test pilots. 

The job is trickier than it sounds, I assure you. The alien aficionados of the United States are a tenacious bunch. And with the advent of the internet and the rise of social media, it’s become more and more difficult to keep the truth from getting out there. You have to create just enough hoaxes to keep them away from real alien activity, and leave just enough unanswered questions to keep them busy. If they get too close to the truth, intergalactic war could break out. That’s a lot of weight on the shoulders of just a diner girl.

I filled Redlight’s mug with coffee from the petty decaf carafe. I really shouldn't. Rule number one of working with food is you never mess with people’s food. Especially coffee. I’d never give someone caffeinated coffee who asked for decaf. Messing with heart meds is no joke, but Redlight rubbed me the wrong way, so it was worth the “innocent mix up.”

She glared up at me when I poured but didn’t say anything more. She was sitting at a table of Top Gun rejects who clearly didn’t think much of her by the way they were excluding her from conversation. I can empathize. Despite being the top agent in the ASB, I was still treated as a pariah at the yearly conference at UFO Con each year. 

“What’llyahave?” I asked the table pulling my pen from my hair.

The men go around the table giving me their standard orders and Redlight just stares at me. When I get to her she just looks up at me, “And you dear?” I ask. I knew the type. High powered women in the military earned respect. Demanded it, when not given. Calling her dear especially in front of her colleagues would rankle. Expecting ice queen, I got a smirk from her. 

“I’m good with coffee, thanks,” she said. 

Ah, she knew exactly the game I was playing. Well this would be an interesting turn at Egg Files. Hopefully better than my last gig. 

“No man, the greys are the supreme beings in the universe. It’s like you don’t even read,” I glanced over to the table. Two guys, two three wolf moon t-shirts, two pairs of khaki cargo shorts with bulging pockets. Standard. I saw a trilby hat sitting on the empty seat next to one of the guys, while the other kept his firmly in place on his head. Perfect. 

I was all set to leave them to their conversation until trilby wearer shook his head, “Nah, uh, the greys are just an amalgam of interstellar species created by the US government to throw us off the scent of the Kierlies. They’re the real supreme being.”

Consider my attention officially grabbed. I sidled over to their table, “Any thing else I can bring you fine gentlemen?” I rest my hand on hatless’s shoulder managing to turn my grimace at the damp cotton beneath my hand into a charming smile to the hatter, “And in case you’re curious,” I leaned down, “The Kierlies were a comic book in the 1950’s that inspired some of Isimov's books. I’m sure you knew that already though.”

Hat wearer sat up straighter, “Oh of course, I was just testing him.”

I smiled, “I take it you two are big followers of M.T. Julian’s?” Matthius Thaddeus Julian, aka my blog alter ego was one of the top rated alien conspiracy blogs in the world, “His latest piece about Area 52 was” I took a deep shuddering breath, “Mind blowing.”

Neither man was looking at my face, all four eyes were directly on my chest, “Well, I should get these orders back,” I said excusing myself from the table. Both men pulling out their phones to look up M.T. Julian. Just another day and another job well done for the ASB.

One of the great joys in writing is the other writers you meet along the way. I’m so excited for this blog cross over with D.H. Willison (as a huge fangirl of Harpyness is Only Skin Deep which is one of my favorite books of 2020 which if you haven’t read the 2020 Self Published Fantasy Blog Off entrant, you should get on that right now. Amazon and Barnes and Noble. You can follow D.H. on Goodreads, facebook, and twitter!

And when you do read Harpyness is Only Skin Deep, let me know, because I need to talk to more people about Rinloh (she’s my favorite)

In all seriousness, thank you so much, D.H. for joining me in celebrating the release of Mark of the Void. Best of luck in SPFBO, we’re all rooting for you!

Now without further ado. While Iris and Adrian are solving cases in Mark of the Void, the agents Kirk were on a different sort of adventure……..

Portals and Prosecutables

“Why are we on portal duty again?” Agent Justin Kirk leaned over the center console flicking through the case file his wife just handed him. “And why Bakersfield of all places?”

Agent Penelope Kirk checked her glamour in the rearview mirror. Her glamour held, no fangs in sight. Good, it only takes one slip up to have to call in the memory wipers, and that was a hassle she did not want again. 

“We go where the Syndicate sends us,” Penelope muttered.

Justin flipped to the next case, reading aloud in his best concerned parent voice, “My daughter started acting strange when she left for college. Come on, people, this is college! What do they think happens there?”

“But in this case, you have to admit they are correct, dear. Being replaced by an alien is not a part of the normal college experience… unless you went to New Mexico State, but that’s beside the point.”

“Yes, yes, but it makes sifting through all this a nightmare. Hundreds of reports of people acting strange, and we have to try to correlate them with portal abnormalities, and then again to these ridiculous advertisements.”

“I have great confidence in your sleuthing abilities, dear.”

“You mean you’d rather drive than sort through files.”

“It means I trust your ability to read more than your ability to drive a manual.”

He was the brains of the operation; she was the brawn. He played with gadgets and doohickeys, she played with engines and punching bags. Two hundred years together, their partnership in and out of the field never floundered because they understood that simple principle.

Normally Penelope acted as the driver and architect of distraction. She’d wield her glamour to keep the innocent away while Justin and the shifter part of their trio tracked dangerous preternatural beings across the country.

With Williams on medical leave, the sprites were stuck investigating silly human after silly human acting “not quite right.” To Penelope, it was just another day at the office. For the unsuspecting non-human shyster, it would be a day to remember.

“King Arthur’s Pole, The Leather Lounge, The Kinky Codpiece,” Justin read off the list of location sites where the known portal abnormalities had been detected, “Fantasy Palace? For glamour’s sake, P, are we going to strip clubs?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Portals, portals, portals, what is this world coming to?”

“Not so much what the world is coming to, it's where they’re going,” P laughed. Justin had read quotes from the last pair of agents to work on the case. The humans claimed they were looking for adventure. “Can you imagine thinking this is the difficult dimension. I swear humans just get dumber the closer their technology gets to magic.”

“Adrian’s pet doesn’t seem that stupid,” Justin remarked. 

“She’s the dumbest of them all,” P said, “She mated Adrian. She could do so much better than bark boy.”

“Eh, that’s what my parents said about you.”

“They did not. Your parents love me after I helped them secure a hotel room at the World’s Fair.” P turned the blinker on. They were nearing their destination but the windy roads were ridiculous.

“P, we talked about this. Having a room in that hotel during the Chicago’s World Fair isn’t something to brag about.”

P rolled her eyes and stole a glance at her husband, “They lived, didn’t they? Now, portals.”

“Why are we on this case again? This screams Od-squad.” Justin whined. Any case he didn’t want he claimed belonged to the Outer Dimensional Abnormalities, Preternatural Apprehensions and Warnings Squad, or Human Augmentations and Memories Squads.

Justin  flipped through more pages of the folder, “I mean come on. Did you see the advertisement’s these guys are using for lures? Ultimate LARPING?”

“Huh the what?” P asked.

“Live Action Role Playing,” Justin explained, “You know like when we saw all the humans dressed as fairies when we investigated the fairies using a Renaissance Faire to swap babies for changelings?”

P suppressed a snarl, “Sprites do not all have wings and even if we did, mine would not be pink.”

***

The first portal was a bust, as was the second.

“Let’s forget the passive surveillance for this last one, and just go in. We go in, pose as a potential client, see what happens.

Justin shot Penelope a suspicious glance. “And by we, you mean me, right?”

“I suppose I could pose as an ‘entertainer,’” she said, checking her glamour in the rearview mirror. Still good, no fangs.

Justin sighed. “I’ll go.”

“You have your paper?” Penelope asked.

Justin held up the printed screenshot from the website, “Now to look like a… LARPer.”

“What does a LARPer even look like?” Penelope asked, flipping through the case folder, “Oh, this. LARPers look like this missing guy.”

“Ooof. Do I have to glamour myself to look like this guy? No one would be intimidated by this.”

Penelope bit back a remark that  Justin couldn’t intimidate anyone in his usual glamours. Her husband was many things, but the big warrior type was not one of them. It usually worked to her favor though, while hunting the most dangerous criminals on the Syndicate’s Most Wanted List, the really dumb ones focused their attention on the shifter. The sort of smart ones focused on her. Only the really clever ones thought Justin could pose them any harm.  

Justin released his glamour from his hands. He squinted at the picture of the missing human again before squeezing them shut. Justin grumbled, swirling his magic around his body. The luminescent sparks left his fingertips and latticed from his shoes until they reached his head, enveloping him in the visage of a stereotypical basement-dwelling human man. 

“I do love a beer gut on you.”

“Let’s just get this over with, okay?” Justin tugged at a faded black t-shirt with a wildly inaccurate looking griffin emblazoned with the name of the hit video game, Fantastic Worlds. 

He pulled out a boxy metallic device. Penelope cringed, she hated the Dimensional, Ethereal Abnormalities Detector aka the DEAD. Using tech to do what rightly belonged in the realm of magic was flat wrong.

“You remember how to work this thing?”

Penelope grimaced. “What could possibly happen in the five minutes that you are inside?”

Justin punched buttons sparking the metal device to life. A small parabolic antenna spun in slow circles while the joystick beeped.

“Maybe I should go in as the nerd and you can work the DEAD.”

“Okay, so if I’m the Dimension Dealer and I ask you about your LARP experience you’d say….”

Penelope grabbed the DEAD from her husband, “Fine, I’ll work the doohickey.”

“Don’t forget this one,” Justin pulled another gadget from his pack, “With Williams off boffing the void, we need to keep an eye out for non-humans.”

“Ugh, not the EIEIO.”

“No, the BINGO, Biological Indicator Non-Global Osteolocator. We’re looking for bone-in human replacements.”

“Why do all your gadgets have names that make no sense?”

Justin grinned at her, the expression was gross on the face he’d assumed.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

Justin stepped out of a van in the very empty parking lot of the Unicorn Firehouse strip club, crumpled screen print in hand. The DEAD monitor had shown a portal generator in the building earlier, but it wasn’t active at the moment.

“Stop stalling, and get in there, ya big baby,” she said, giving Justin a solid slap on the ass.

“I really--” Justin was cut off by a bark from the BINGO unit. 

“Freaking techno feys,” Penelope muttered, switching from the DEAD to the BINGO to search out the target. An aging blue hatchback pulled into the parking lot, and a cosplay enthusiast walked past the van. With a minor difference to typical cosplay. This was a green-skinned alien disguising themselves as human.

“Bingo.”

There’s more to this story on D.H.’s blog!