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Urban Fantasy

Sheerie (of The Only Song Worth Singing, by Randee Dawn)

Dear reader, tonight with us is one of the Irish fae, inspiring poets and musicians for decades. She’s here to talk about unseen worlds and working with a touring rock band.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

I’m not human, you see, so I can’t exactly give you warm and fuzzy tales of my idyllic “childhood.” I’m actually a leanhaun sídhe, or as you might call me, a “fairy mistress.” Like many fae, I exist because I am believed in, and the more powerful the belief, the more powerful I become. I was created out of a string of folk and fairy tales from Ireland, and I believe my true father was none other than the poet W.B. Yeats, who first gave me form in his 1892 book Irish Fairy and Folk Tales. I visited him more than once, though once he left for France he was out of my reach. In those days I couldn’t travel across the waters … but today it is different.

What do you do now?

My duties involve inspiring your poets – or, in the case of The Only Song Worth Singing, your rock musicians, driving their inherent creativity to heights of near (or total) insanity. What do I ask in return? So very little. Just a bit of life, taken bit by bit. It’s a fair exchange. It’s also why your poets die so young….

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

Fae exist in a world “beyond the Veil,” sometimes considered “under the hills,” but in any case, a place separate from the human world. All fae can pass through … and a few humans, if they are particularly special. But when a human and a fae comingle and create a new … being, it can be distasteful to us. One such exists, and we’ve been keeping an eye on him his entire life. Then he – and his band – left to share their music in the New World, and the orders came down from the Seelie Court: Find him and decide if he’s allowed to live. What can I say, though? I got distracted and found his bandmate far more interesting.

Continue reading “Sheerie (of The Only Song Worth Singing, by Randee Dawn)” →
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Max (of Unfixed, by Amy L Sauder)

Dear readers, tonight with us is a young man, fascinated by historical circus wagons at the edge of town. He’s here to speak about claimed of an enchanted circus, abandoned mansions, and the blurring lines between villains and sidekicks.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there? Any cherished memories?

That seems a bit nosy. I grew up same as everyone else, I suppose. And I cherish each memory. Why do you ask? What are you fishing for?  

At any rate, I don’t like talking about the past. The now is what matters, that and the future. The rest is in, well, the past. Let’s leave it there.

What do you do now?

I’m a private investigator, looking into the disappearance of the Circus of Strange Marvels and the night of the fire while doing simple upkeep at the abandoned Trencher mansion. My unfortunate roommate Fancy is no help, and the witnesses are unreliable and few.

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

I’m sure you heard of it. The supposed hauntings, the claims of magic. Other than that, what else is there to say? The walls can’t talk and the people won’t. But sooner or later, something has gotta come out. And when it does I’ll be there, ready to jot it down.

What did you first think when you read about the night of the fire?

There’s so mystical an air around it that the only guesses are practically a fairy tale. Even the newspapers bought into the hype…what sort of journalist does that? And of course there’s no proof. Everyone loves a good story, but there’s a reasonable explanation underneath all the vanishing people and fresh corpses. In time, I’ll find it and watch the magic crumble.

Continue reading “Max (of Unfixed, by Amy L Sauder)” →
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Benedict Shade (of Claws of the Collector, by Douglas Lumsden)

Dear readers, we tried to schedule an interview with the protagonist of this exciting new series, to ask him about shapeshifters and life under the dragon lord, but unfortunately he was detained by the police. So, instead, we bring you the transcript of his police interview.

Police Interview Transcript. Subject: Benedict Shade, aka “Shade the Collector”

Date, October 16. Time is eight-oh-five. Present in the interview room are Officer Julio Gutierrez of the New Helvetia Police Department and Benedict Shade. Mr. Shade has waived his right to have an attorney present.

Mr. Shade, you are a person of interest in an official police investigation. You are not under arrest, and your presence here is voluntary. Could you please state your occupation for the record?

Certainly, Officer Gutierrez. I collect and sell magical artifacts, the more exotic and unusual, the better.

Are any of the objects in your collection dangerous?

Many of them are potentially lethal. The more dangerous the artifact, the more valuable it is.

You realize that selling lethal magical objects without a license from the Realm of Tolanica is illegal.

Of course! I would never think of selling a truly dangerous object without a permit.

Your reputation suggests otherwise.

Please, Officer. You shouldn’t believe every stray rumor you hear from the street. The NHPD has never found evidence of my involvement in a single illegal transaction.

You’ve been lucky so far.

[Laughter] Maybe so. Say, officer, any chance you could send for a cup of tea? Plenty of cream, please. The tea you have around here is probably domestic swill, so make it half tea and half cream. Real cream, please, with all the calories. And for Lord’s sake, heat the water in a kettle. Boiling water with radio waves is barbaric. And a teaspoon of vanilla bean if you have it. If you don’t, I carry a shaker of ground vanilla bean with me wherever I go. The desk sergeant impounded it when I came in, so you can get it from him.

Does this look like a restaurant? We don’t have tea. I can get you coffee if you want it. Heated in a microwave.

Ugh. Unless it’s imported from the rainforests of northern Qusco? I might be able to tolerate some of that with plenty of cream and sugar. No? Well, never mind. I’ll get by.

Let’s move on. You’re a shapeshifter, right?

That’s right. I am able to transform into twelve black cats.

You seem remarkably stable for a shifter. In my experience, most shifters are at least borderline insane.

What can I say? Imagine you are a normal young human, somewhere between the ages of twelve and fifteen, and you wake up one morning with the realization that you have become something… different. Something both more and less than human. It’s bad enough when you are suddenly and randomly gifted—or cursed—with the ability to transform into a single beast, like a wolf or a cougar, but most of us find our entire self fragmented among a number of smaller animals, such as foxes, crows, or, in my case, cats. I was lucky. Imagine what it must be like to discover that you have become a were-rat, or a were-slug? When the change comes, it’s totally unexpected, and it’s always traumatic. It changes your entire life. Even more than the onset of puberty, which occurs at roughly the same time!

How did your family take it when they discovered you had become a were-cat?

My father was already gone. He’d been disappeared by Dragon Lord Ketz-Alkwat’s secret police. You know how it goes. The “gray-ties” came knocking at our door at two in the morning. My mother told my brother and I to stay in our room. Then she went to my older sister’s room and told her the same thing. A few minutes later, Mother told us that our father was gone and would never be coming back. By the time I came down for breakfast, all traces of my father were gone. I was twelve years old. I still don’t know why they came for him, and I have no hope of ever finding out. But that’s life under the Dragon Lord, and it’s been going on for centuries. Nothing unique about my story. I was just another boy whose father or mother, or big brother or sister, or aunt or uncle, or grandparent or cousin disappeared suddenly, without warning, taken by the Lord’s Investigation Agency and erased from our memories.

What about the rest of your family? How did they take it when you became a were-cat?

The same way most families do when they discover their son or daughter, or brother or sister has become a freak. My mother was a strong woman. She accepted what she called my “affliction” and thought I could be tamed through drug therapy and the force of her will until it was time for me to enter into my three-year mandatory government service. I put up with that for about a year before I ran away and changed my name. I avoided government service, too. I decided no one was better suited to help me cope with my affliction than myself. Also, I had a little supernatural guidance.

What do you mean?

After a few years engaged in a lifestyle I’m certainly not going to talk about with a policeman—hey, you never caught me, so there’s no point in rehashing it all now, right? Anyway, at some point I was visited by Coyote.

The Coyote? The trickster spirit?

The one and only. But he’s a lot more than a trickster. He’s the father of every living thing on this planet. His companion, Kodoyanpe, built the earth, but it was Coyote who filled it with blood, because red is his favorite color. And with blood came life.

And Coyote came to you?

That’s right. He provided me with the guidance I was rejecting from everyone else. I accepted his counsel because he was willing to give me some useful things. For example, he made me more sensitive to the presence of magic. He also taught me some occult magic and granted me some minor hexing powers. None of this was free, of course. It cost me the ring finger on my left hand, but I wasn’t using it all that much anyway. It also cost Lucky, one of my cats, his tail. He’s not too happy about that, but he copes.

Was it Coyote who taught you to use your shapeshifting ability to steal valuable artifacts?

Who says I steal those artifacts? I collect them from people who had no right to own them in the first place. Rich parasites, mostly. They’re the real thieves, not me.

Tell it to the judge.

I will in the unlikely event you ever catch me in the act or find any stolen goods in my possession.

It’s only a matter of time. Are you ever afraid that your cats will scatter to the winds and take pieces of your personality with them?

I have to admit it’s my greatest fear. Every shifter has to deal with the possibility. It’s why many of them are so mentally unstable. Each of my cats is a distinct piece of me, and if I were to lose one, I’d lose the part of me that it embodies. If I lose any, I lose some of what makes me who I am. If I were to lose half of them, the human part of me would dissolve into the ether. But I’ve got a handle on my cats, and I haven’t lost one yet.

How do you keep them under control?

Officer Gutierrez, you obviously don’t know many shifters. If you did, you’d know that the question you asked is in poor taste. How I deal with the pieces of myself is personal, and I won’t speak about it with anyone who isn’t a shifter or someone I know a lot more intimately than I know you.

My apologies, though if you were under arrest, rest assured I’d require you—compel you, if necessary— to answer my question. Now, I understand you were out of town recently. I’m sure you had an innocent reason.

It’s no secret. I went to Yerba City with my friend, Dwayne, to collect an artifact.

This would be Dwayne Buckler?

That’s right. He and his wife, Salamander, own some land by the river, along with a few trailers. I rent one of their trailers, and they live in a doublewide in the same court. Sal’s a river spirit, by the way. Dwayne makes pots and sells them. He’s quite the character and a real stand-up guy. I’m sure you have a file on him, but he’s clean these days. I trust him with my life, or at least enough to gather up my clothes when I transform into cats, and bring them to me when I need them. Anyway, I heard from my sources that an enchanted dagger was on its way to Yerba City, and Dwayne and I went there to collect it.

From its owner?

Right of ownership was an open question. It was being delivered to a private investigator, but he didn’t know anything about it and didn’t know it was coming. In the end, he and his were-rat friend helped me collect it. We got some help from a sorcerous goat-creature and a really powerful and scary witch.

A dagger, you say? From what I hear you’re quite an expert with blades.

Well, far be it for me to boast, but I can put a put a throwing knife into an eyeball from twenty paces. Not that I ever would, of course. But I didn’t want this dagger because it was a weapon. I wanted it because I heard that it contained a spirit of some kind. As it turned out, something was trapped inside, but it wasn’t the spirit I’ve been searching for.

What spirit is that?

Kodoyanpe, the Earthmaker. He was trapped in something long, long ago, and finding the artifact that imprisons him is the dream of every collector on the planet. I’ve been looking for the Earthmaker for years, and I intend to be the one who finds him, whether he’s indeed confined in an object, or in a tree, or a body of water—or even in another living being! Whoever finds the Earthmaker will be celebrated till the end of time.

You say the Earthmaker wasn’t trapped in this dagger. Who was?

I’m not at liberty to say. If you want to know, ask the Lord’s Investigation Agency.

Right. No thank you. That’s above my pay grade. Was this enchanted dagger dangerous?

More than I can possibly tell you. It could have instigated a major war between the Seven Realms. A lot of people died because of it, but it could have been worse. Much worse.

Were you responsible for any of those deaths?

Me? Of course not. And I find that question offensive.

Right. Maybe an investigation by the realmers would tell us a different story. Where is it now?

That’s none of your business.

We’ll see about that. Now that you’re back in New Helvetia, I hope you’re planning to keep your nose clean. We don’t want to hear about any black cats sneaking into gated communities, hexing the residents, and walking off with any enchanted gemstones or statuettes.

Please, Officer. I’m hurt by your low opinion of me. There’s no way you’d ever catch any of my cats walking away with anything valuable. If I were inclined to commit burglaries, I’m far too skilled to allow anyone to catch me in the act. Can I go now? I’m dying for some tea. Especially some red bush tea from the western cape of southern Ghana.

The transcript ends at this point with a note stating that the interview was interrupted by a representative from the Lord’s Investigation Agency, who took Shade into custody. The LIA agent, a dwarf who identified herself as Dallin Streete, offered no explanation. The note indicates gratuitously that Ms. Streete was remarkably beautiful and dressed as if she were stepping out of a limousine onto a red carpet. The note ends with this brief statement: “When Officer Gutierrez objected to the intervention of Agent Streete, he was seized by convulsions. He was taken to New Helvetia General Hospital where he is currently under observation.”

Douglas Lumsden earned a doctorate in medieval European history at the University of California Santa Barbara. He taught world history at a couple of colleges before settling into a private college prep high school in Monterey. Now retired, he writes an urban fantasy series featuring hard-boiled private eye Alexander Southerland as he cruises through the mean streets of Yerba City and interacts with trolls, femme fatales, shape-shifters, witches, and corrupt city officials. Douglas and his wife Rita can be found most days pounding the pavement in our running shoes, or with their cat named Cinderella who is happy to stay indoors.

You can find Shade on the pages of Claws of the Collector.

Browse our archives for past interviews, or follow the site by email (bottom-right) to know immediately when your new best-book-friend makes an appearance.

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Borax (of In Victrix, by Assaph Mehr)

Dear readers, tonight with us is nominally the bodyguard of the protagonist — proving once again that everyone is the hero of their own story. He’s here to talk about gladiatorial games, about childhood in the forest vs life in the big city.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

I grew up in the forests of Arbarica, under evergreen trees. We lived in a remote village, only a few families, and my father and brothers hunted for furs and meat. At festivals, we went to the oppidium to trade the furs for tools, jewellery, and other things, and then stayed the nights for celebrations. The bards sang, and the druids dispensed law and lore, enthralling everyone with feats of magic.

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

All the memories I have are cherished because there are so few of them. I was barely thirteen when the legions came. I took up a sword and stood with everyone I ever knew and more besides against the invaders.
It didn’t help. I have no idea how I survived. I don’t even recall the actual battle. Then I was chained and marched day after day to Egretia. I was a big one, even as a child, so a lanista from a gladiator school bought me. That was the end of my childhood.

What do you do now?

My dominus is a kind master, and I owe him my life. Gladiators don’t always die on the sands and the retirement options are limited, often reduced to begging. What else is there for someone who only knows how to fight, but can no longer do it once he’s too scarred and disfigured? Even those who survive the six years or thirty bouts to earn their freedom, find it hard to get a job.
Felix took me in when I had no prospects, gave me this metal hand you see, and now I protect his life. I go wherever he goes, to make sure he comes back.

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

You’d have to ask the master about that. My dominus is very strict about client confidentiality. Without betraying any names… well, I got to mix with gladiators again, and got a much better view of the chariot races. There were things going on — with secrets and gods, and sacrifices and religion, and rich people tampering with things they shouldn’t — and I have no idea what they meant. I wasn’t privy to those conversations. I was just there for when the going got rough.

When it did! Now, that is something that gets the blood roaring in your ears. Not like the adulation of the crowds in the arena, but real fights in dark corners with real stakes. Makes you appreciate being alive.

Continue reading “Borax (of In Victrix, by Assaph Mehr)” →
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Pawlina Katczynski, aka “Pawly” (of Werecats Emergent, by Mark Engels )

Dear readers, tonight with us is a young woman, scion of an ancient clan of werecats. She is here to tell us about the challenges of discovering your family’s dark secrets and battling lethal urges, while trying to finish high-school.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

My brother Tommy and I lived in Norfolk, Virginia most of our time growing up. Our dad was a Navy SEAL, so we were your garden-variety Navy brats. Around major holidays while Dad was off on deployment, our mom would take us on a bus to D.C. and then a train to Chicago where our folks were both from. There we’d spend time together with our grandparents and aunts and uncles. At the time our extended family all lived together in the same building, so it was like a big family reunion whenever we’d show up. We’d been on ice skates from nearly the time we could walk, so we’d bring our hockey gear along and play pick-up games with the kids from a Chicago neighborhood league our aunt and uncle coached. The tricks we learned there made us high school hockey superstars back in Norfolk!

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

Our great grandfather, a retired Coast Guard commandant, had bought a decommissioned light keeper’s cottage situated on a small, remote wooded island in Lake Michigan near Wisconsin’s Door Peninsula. He fixed it up for his family to use a summer cabin, and my brother and I continued that tradition for much of our summers. With our dad gone so much, Tommy and I spent far more time at the cabin every summer than we did in either Chicago or Norfolk. We’d wander around all day, every day, building forts and playing hide n’ seek and combing the beaches looking out for treasure washed up from centuries of shipwrecks.

What do you do now?

Tommy and I are both trying to finish out our senior year at a new high school. It’s been, well, a challenge…

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

Let’s just say neither of us had any idea just what it meant to be Growing Up Werecat. Not until I first morphed last Halloween, the night before our big game at the invitationals last fall in Green Bay.

Continue reading “Pawlina Katczynski, aka “Pawly” (of Werecats Emergent, by Mark Engels )” →
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Amber Yu (of The Bonehead Resistance, by Narelle King)

Dear readers, tonight with us is an ordinary Australian citizen who found herself embroiled in extraordinary events. After her son is taken hostage, she must race from leafy suburbs to the dusty outback, confronting merciless soldiers and terrifying monsters.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

I grew up in north-west Sydney. My parents have lived in the same small brick house in Eastwood since they immigrated from China, a couple of years before I was born.

They had this great backyard full of fruit trees. I used to climb the trees and make myself sick eating the fruit. My mother was always tearing her hair out trying to get me to do homework, but I just wanted to be outside.

A few years ago they sold half the backyard to a developer who owned a couple of properties next door. He whacked an apartment tower on them, so now they only have a small vege patch, and nothing grows well because it’s always shaded.

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any treasured memories?

I spent hours jumping on our trampoline. This was in the 90s, so there was no padding or safety nets or anything, if you weren’t careful you’d land on the springs or the metal bars. One of my cousins fractured her leg falling off it.

When I was a teenager my friends and I would lie on it and talk for hours.

What did you think when you saw the Boneheads for the first time?

I was in shock. Just that morning Adam and I had been laughing at the rumours about the PM working with monsters. We thought it was a joke.

And the Boneheads were terrifying. Those black pits they have for eyes – they’re like something out of a nightmare. I watched them gun people down in the street. I’ve seen a lot of death since then, but I don’t think I’ll ever stop having nightmares about that.

Continue reading “Amber Yu (of The Bonehead Resistance, by Narelle King)” →
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The Huay Chivo (of The Blood Moon Feeds on My Dreams, by Douglas Lumsden)

With me in the studio today is the creature known as the Huay Chivo, who has through sorcerous means traveled here from the Realm of Tolanica in a nearby parallel world.

Welcome, Mr. Chivo.

Thank you. And, please, call me Chivo.

Certainly, Chivo. My first question to you is a little delicate. At the risk of being rude…

You wish to discuss my appearance, right?

Well, if you don’t mind…

It’s not a problem. As you can see, I resemble a goat with ram’s horns, a row of spikes down my back, glowing red eyes, human-like hands and feet, and a long, bare rat-like tail.

And some rather impressive pointed teeth!

Yes, quite handy when you’re a carnivore. And, to anticipate your next question, no, I wasn’t born in this form. Underneath all this, I am as human as you are, though with considerably more skill manipulating supernatural energies.

You mean magic?

That’s as good a word as any, I suppose. Many centuries ago, I was the most powerful sorcerer in the region of Cutzyetelkeh, roughly the equivalent of the Yucatan Peninsula in your world. Back then I was known as Lord Cadmael, and I ruled a large and sophisticated kingdom. Then the Dragon Lords emerged from a parallel world called Hell and conquered the entire planet. I successfully resisted two of the dragons—Ketz-Alkwat and Manqu—for decades, but eventually I was overcome. Or so they tell me. My memories of the end of my kingdom and the years that came after are vague. I’m dimly aware of wandering for centuries in my current form, mindlessly hunting and surviving. That’s when they began calling me the Huay Chivo: the Goat Sorcerer.

I was warned that I should avoid the lethal gaze of your glowing eyes.

[chuckling] That’s a bit dramatic. When I’m hunting, I bring down my prey by meeting their eyes with my own. My ‘lethal gaze,’ as you put it, causes extreme nausea, and when my prey is helpless—I strike! I developed this spell when I still maintained a human form. It was an entertaining way to intimidate anyone foolish enough to oppose my leadership.

I see…. Chivo, you say you wandered mindlessly for centuries. That obviously changed. What happened?

I’d reached a very low point in my life. I wandered into an urban metropolis called Yerba City on the tip of a peninsula. Geographically, it’s the equivalent of a place in your world called San Francisco, and there are some similarities. Unfortunately, the urban environment was not suitable for me in my bestial state. Also, I came to the attention of certain agencies of the government that wanted to capture me for the Dragon Lord. I wandered through alleys, eating whatever game I could find: dogs, cats, racoons, amikuks…

Amikuks?

Nasty little critters that swim through the earth. Maybe you have a different name for them. Anyway, I was searching for a meal early one morning when I ran into a strong-willed gentleman named Southerland who was able to resist my nausea spell. I was impressed, and I decided to move into his abode, in part to keep myself from the prying eyes of the Dragon Lord’s agencies. Southerland has a small room he uses sparingly to mechanically launder his linens. I found it an adequate place to pass the days in sleep before my nightly activities, especially after I was able to convince my new host to provide me with regular meals. In return, I keep his living space secure against enemies and thieves. It was, and remains, a suitable arrangement.

Continue reading “The Huay Chivo (of The Blood Moon Feeds on My Dreams, by Douglas Lumsden)” →
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Ned Spinks, Chief Thief-Catcher and Jenni the sprite (of The Roshaven Series / The Bone Thief, by Claire Buss)

Dear readers, tonight with us is the chief thief-catcher for the emperor, and his second in command — a rather mischievous sprite. They’re here to talk about their quirky magical mystery adventures.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

Ned: I grew up in Fidelia with my parents and brother. It’s a coast town like many others I guess except…

Jenni: Yor Dad was ‘ead of T.A.R.T.S and yor bruvver took over and made it even more evil. Only ‘e ain’t yor bruvver or yor Dad.

Ned: Yeah, just found that out. A lot to take in.

Jenni: Specially as you killed yor bruvver. It were self-defence though, Boss.

Uncomfortable silence…

Jenni: Whereas me, I’m a fae ain’t I, so I was born in the grove. Me mum is Momma K, you’ve ‘eard of ‘er. Queen of the Fae and that. Me dad I just met so I can’t really say much.

Ned: He’s no pillar of society though, is he?

Jenni: Nah. S’good job we got each uvver in Roshaven, eh?

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

Ned: Just the usual really, wooden swords and toy bows and arrows. That sort of stuff.

Jenni: Yeah but you grew up in a big ‘ouse though, didn’t you? Wiv servants and stuff. You got taught to fence and ride and all that malark. S’not wot people get usually, Boss.

Ned: I left all that behind when I moved away from Fidelia and came here to Roshaven. Started afresh.

Jenni: True. Now you got a real sword. I never ‘ad a sword or nuffink like that. Didn’t need it being fae. Just snap me fingers and I’d get wotever I wanted. Corse that all changed when I ‘ad me coming of age ceremony and then there were the whole fing wiv the Source but I don’t fink we can talk about that, can we?

Ned: Not yet, Jenni. The book came out on 12th November, but we don’t want to spoil it for the readers.

Jenni: Right, right. I wos a ‘appy kid though. Always in everyfink, you know wot it’s like. Fun times.

What do you do now?

Ned: I’m Chief Thief-Catcher here in Roshaven. It’s my job to run the team and keep the empire safe from the criminal element.

Jenni: And I’m ‘is right ‘and fae.

Ned: That’s right, Jenni is my second in command. We also have Willow, a tree nymph, Joe, a regular human and Sparks, a firefly. We are actually looking for new recruits so if you think you’ve got what it takes to keep the streets of Roshaven safe then do pop in to Headquarters for a chat.

Jenni: And don’t go to the old ones on Justice ‘Eights. We ain’t there no more. Not after it got burnt down again again. We’re in The Noose, on the corner of the Black Narrows. Can’t miss us. Curry Night special on Thursdays.

Ned: We both joined the Catchers at the same time. It’s a funny story actually, involving a potato…

Jenni: Yeah, but we can’t talk about that eivver, Boss. It’s coming up, innit. When she wot does the writing sorts out the Case Files.

Ned: Yes, that’s right. There will be more Case Files coming your way, detailing some of our more interesting cases.

Jenni: Like the runaway cheese. And the Tea Cake Alley riots.

Ned: Best not to say too much more.

Jenni: Rightchoo are, Boss. ‘Ere, did you always wanna be a catcher? I tried a few fings first afore I knew. Didn’t get on wiv any of ‘em. And I definitely ain’t gonna be the next Queen of the Fae. No fank you!

Ned: I knew I wanted to do something in the opposite direction to my family.

Jenni: Them’s being thieves and vagabonds and evil and wotnot.

Ned: Erm, yeah. And I saw a notice in The Daily Blag about recruitment for the Catchers so I thought I’d go along. That was when…

Jenni: Boss! We can’t tell ‘em, remember? They gotta wait for the Case File to find out wot ‘appened.

Ned: Yes, sorry.

Continue reading “Ned Spinks, Chief Thief-Catcher and Jenni the sprite (of The Roshaven Series / The Bone Thief, by Claire Buss)” →
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Saul Imbierowicz (of Unavoidable, by Coy Kissee and Geoff Habiger)

Dear readers, tonight with us is a postal employee from 1920’s Chicago. He’s here to talk about being murdered buy AL Capone, and about being reborn as a vampire.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

I was born and raised in Chicago. Mom raised me to go to Temple and respect my elders, while Dad taught me to be a Cubs and a Blackhawks fan, and that the only way to succeed in life was to work hard. My little sister, Sarah, tries to teach me patience, but I’m apparently a slow learner, heh. Until recently, we lived together in a second-floor apartment near Douglas Park, but once I got a job at the post office, I saved up enough to get my own place. It wasn’t much, but it was mine, and the only thing I had to worry about was my nosy neighbor keeping track of my every move and reporting back to my mother. At least, that’s what I thought. Then I died, but that wasn’t so bad, as I ended up getting a better apartment out of the deal. Silver lining, right?

Did you have any favorite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

We didn’t have much in the way of toys growing up. Dad made a decent living at the meat packing plant, but not enough for too many extras, you know? I don’t have a lot of memories with my Dad other than sending him off to work in the morning before school, or eating dinner together once he got home, but there was one day that we had together that I’ll never forget.

It was Memorial Day, 1916, and Dad had the day off. The Cardinals were in town, and that day was a double-header. Dad surprised me with tickets and we spent the whole day together at Weeghman Park. The Cubs got shut out in the first game, but in the second game, Cy Williams hit a home run off of Bob Steele that landed close enough that I could chase after it. When I saw the ball coming our way, I heard Dad say, “If you want it enough, you might be able to get that ball.” That was all I needed. I shot out of my seat, and raced to where the ball landed, determined to snare my prize. Just as it was almost in my grasp, a bigger kid snatched it up in his meaty paw and jumped up and down for joy. Dejected I shuffled my way back to my seat. I sat there, pouting in silence, until my father said, “Do you see how happy that boy is?” I glanced up at him, and then over to the boy with the ball, and mumbled, “Yeah.” He looked me square in the eye and replied, “He thinks that he’s happy because he has a new ball, but he’s wrong. He’s happy because his hard work paid off. He saw something that he wanted, and he didn’t let anything stop him from getting it. He could lose that ball tomorrow, but he’ll remember the day that he got it for the rest of his life.” Dad had always touted hard work, but this particular example is the one that really hit home. No pun intended, heh.

What do you do now?

I worked for the United States Post Office up until my untimely demise. After that, I became a government agent, working for Eliot Ness. With the help of my partner, Christian Wright, I enforce the law and am trying to take down Chicago’s biggest gangster, and fellow vampire, Al Capone. Oh, whoops, I probably shouldn’t have said the part about the vampires. I mean, I was just kidding, there’s no such thing as vampires. Heh. Um… yeah. So…

Ok, fine, here’s the deal. It turns out that my former girlfriend was a vampire who worked for Al Capone, who is also a vampire. That’s not public knowledge, so you can’t publish any of this. It’s… what do you call it? Off the record? So, anyway, she turned me into a vampire before she got killed in that big shootout on Valentine’s Day. She was under orders from Capone to get me to steal some ledger books that Capone wanted. I got caught up in this giant mess between Capone and Bugs Moran and the Feds, and I didn’t even escape with my life. Capone himself murdered me on the Michigan Avenue bridge. Of course, at the time, I didn’t know that I’d become a vampire. I just thought I was dead. Which I was. Am. Heh.

Once I rose from the dead (no, not like Jesus), I became part of a team, led by Eliot Ness, with the main goal of taking down Al Capone once and for all. The fact that he (and I) are vampires isn’t even known by everyone on my team, but we’re fighting fire with fire, so to speak. My partner, Christian, was not very happy about the situation at first. Or now, even. We’ve gotten so close that he calls me these fun nicknames, like “abomination” and “affront to God”. Yeah, he’s quite religious, but he wants to take down Capone just as much as I do, so I trust him with my life. Death. Whatever.

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

Well, now we have a new boss, this J. Edgar Hoover guy, and he wants us to try to get Capone for tax evasion (I know, super exciting, right? I get to use all my special vampire accounting powers. Just kidding, that’s not really a thing. Heh.), although my partner and I think that he deserves a stake through the heart instead. Since we’re not going to be super busy with that, I think we should try to figure out who the mystery player is that seems to be at odds with Capone. If we can’t figure that out, I worry that Chicago will end up in the middle of a vampire turf war, and nothing good can come from that.

Continue reading “Saul Imbierowicz (of Unavoidable, by Coy Kissee and Geoff Habiger)” →
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