Posted 24 June 2014
Countdown: The Year Just Gone (2013) Releases this Week
C.M.’s second volume of collected short works completed, revised and prepared for publication or published in 2013 releases in five days’ time.
Like Remnants to Recent Years, The Year Just Gone consists of short stories, flash fiction and poetry, explorations of fantasy, science fiction, speculation, real-world and real-life commentary, language and word play in general.
Some of the short stories in The Year Just Gone have been released as stand-alone works, as part of An Anthology of Blades, or as both. Rather than buy them one by one, you can find them all in this volume. These stories are:
- The Soul in the Sword
- Gulvane and the Dragon
- Stiletto’s Luck
- The Reptiles’ Blade
- Death Comes in Bone
The rest of this volume consists of flash fiction and poetry, explorations of fantasy, science fiction, speculation, real-world and real-life commentary, language and word play in general.
The Year Just Gone is scheduled for release on June 28, 2014.
Here is a taste of what to expect:
So, I woke up this morning with the first line in my head, knowing I had a bit of catching up to do. Heavens knows what I’d been dreaming. The line haunted me all through breakfast, so I made it the springboard for today’s flash fiction. This piece was written on December 31, 2013, for 365 Days of Flash Fiction.
“Your dog is beautiful,” the Hungarian woman said, “but you belong in a zoo.”
I felt my jaw drop, and then came the reply, quick as a flash and just as unwise.
“It is true, but only the same zoo you escaped from.”
Well, it was on for young and old, she being the young and me being the old. I truly should have known better. We fought, the dogs forgotten, alternately barking and cowering on the sidelines.
The Hungarian’s name was Yolta, with a ‘J’. She caught her foot on the curb and went down hard. I reached out to help her, and she sent 300 volts up my arm—her mother was bilingual and had a sense of humour. No one touches her and lives.
Except for me, Villamia—lightning. I am older by fifteen years.
Earthing us both, I helped my sister from the ground, and took her home.
We had a lot of catching up to do.