Fantasy (nonspecific) – Erin Penn's Second Base

Flash: Hyperfocus

February 23, 2025February 24, 2025 Erin Penn Leave a comment

Photo From USkins.com – Skin Decal Wrap for Yeti Tumbler Rambler 30 oz Baja 0014 Neon Green

The light rap of knuckles on the door was swiftly followed by “Hey, you okay?”

Blinking back into this side of reality from the weird notes some crazy person had scribbled in some old Dragon magazines, I looked over at Mica. “Yeah, sure.”

“Just wondering. I hadn’t heard anything from you since the honeymoon.” They leaned against the doorframe. “You not upset about me moving out or anything?”

“Why on earth would I be upset about you moving out?” I chuckled. “Lord help us both if Dave and I had to live under the same roof more than two days running.”

They rolled their eyes, clearly remembering a few times, their then-fiancé crashed at our place on long holiday weekends. Dave and I are friends, better friends at a distance. Just because he married my best friends does not invoke best-friend-adjacent privileges. “So, then why? No text, no call. You give a non-bi person the worries.”

A smile creased my face. “Sorry, I got a new hyperfocus.”

I don’t know what they read into the smile and words, but they frowned; their eyebrows did the little fencing with each other. “Have you been eating?”

“Um…”

“Today, have you eaten today?”

“No?” I apologized. “I think. What day is today?”

“Thursday, I got back Tuesday.”

“Um, then definitely no.” I waved at the three empty glasses on the table next to the pile of magazines I have been pouring over. “But I am hydrated at least.”

“Thank mercy for small blessings.” They shook their head. “Let’s get some scrambled eggs into you and you can tell me all about it.”

“Be right there.”

“Now, genius.”

“I promise, you go ahead.” After waiting to make sure they walked away, I gathered the magazines up. Tapping them into a neat pile, I placed them into special briefcase I bought just for the forty-year-old publications and snapped it close. I checked once to make sure the lock held. I then tucked it under my desk and muttered a few short words under my breath.

The case faded from sight.

Between my study and the kitchen, my brain exploded into a thousand different directions on what to tell Mica.

“You are so lucky you are rich, Janis.” Mica said as they pulled out butter, eggs, and bread from my refrigerator. “How much work have you missed this week?”

“Oh, I got fired about three weeks ago.” Shrugging, I hopped onto one of stool lining the green marble island. “Missed too much work helping getting the wedding together.”

“What?” They spun my direction, spatula at the ready, threatening me like it was a sword … or a wand. “You didn’t tell me?”

“What? Like I wanted to stock shelves each day after I finished the bookkeeping because Bossing-Boss-Boss was like, ‘you are salary, you are working forty hours’? Fuck that. I’m not a quitter, but I wasn’t going to fight stupidity.”

After breaking the eggs into a bowl, Mica passed the bowl to me with a fork to mix it up just the way I like it while they got the butter sizzling in my cast iron frying pan. “Alright, then what next?”

“Oh, I haven’t decided.” I pushed the bowl to them. “Do I want to travel a little?” The speculation lining that question surprised me. … Do I want to travel?

“You hate travel.”

“Yeah, but I lost a roommate to the love of their life,” I ran the words through my head trying to figure out what I was thinking, “maybe I should go looking for mine?” That wasn’t it, but it wasn’t not-it. Love could be a sidequest.

“Really Janis?” Mica looked impressed. Then frowned, the eyebrows bowing and engaging like two Olympic fencers, “What aren’t you telling me? What the fuck is your hyperfocus?”

“Magic.”

I can’t believe I blurted it out like that.

“Like the Gathering? I go away for a week and Daniel gets you into that crack?” They scraped the eggs onto my favorite green plate and started browning the toast in the pan. The long-suffering sigh carried fifteen years of witnessing me collecting hobbies. “How many packs have you bought?”

“None.”

They stopped the eyebrow war long enough to raise one of the perfectly plucked blades high in disbelief.

“No really,” I assured them. “I’m talking about real magic, not cards.”

“What, like witchcraft? Wiccan or something like that?”

Toast buttered from the pan, three eggs with pepper, no salt, slid back to me while they put the bowl and utensils in the dishwasher and the butter and leftover eggs back into the fridge. “No, and not satanism or hoodoo or anything like that, although I have been doing some side research into those to figure out how this works.” I dug in and ate my first forkful.

And forgot to talk until the plate was cleared.

“How long since you last ate?” The sarcasm dripped like juice from a squeezed lemon.

“Shut up.”

They chuckled and took the plate back to add to the dishwasher.

They didn’t offer anything else. I hate getting a heavy belly when I am focused, which usually means I dropped five to ten pounds during a hyperfocus initial onset. At least I had learned to stay hydrated. Two hospital visits to for IVs to force fluids after collapsing had made me put some serious preventive measures in place.

Speaking of which …

“I need to refill my drinks.” I got off the stool and pulled out theirs for them to sit on. “Let me grab my glasses and set up for tonight’s session.”

“You’re not planning on sleeping tonight?”

Pausing in the doorway in the hall leading to my half of the house, I closed my eyes to test how heavy they were. With food in my belly, they had lead weights attached to them. But I got them open. “Alright, I will be setting up the drinks for tomorrow. Satisfied Mixtrix busybody?”

“Very.” They waved their hands in a ‘shoo’ fashion. “Off you go.”

The briefcase remained hidden by its cloaking. I moved it to a different location behind a bookcase, then gathered my glasses from the table and the four sealed, empty bottles on the floor and the hot chocolate mug beside my reading chair. Eight was a bit much to juggle, but cantrips would work long enough from the study to the kitchen.

May as well show off. Then the real explanations can begin. “Upsa daisy.” With four vessels in hand, the rest figured out what I wanted and hovered like a constellation of moons around the lightly glowing green center mass of glassware.

I inhaled deeply and returned to the kitchen.

(words 1114; first published 2/23/2024)

Ye Olde Dragon Magazines Series

Flash: Smol Snak

February 16, 2025February 24, 2025 Erin Penn Leave a comment

Photo by Timothy Dykes on Unsplash

:Hallo Fren. Mi nam is snak and I is smol: The green snake blinked its sparkling black eyes and flicked its tongue out.

I stared at it in amazement.

Raising up, it started wrapping itself around my finger. :You taste-smell-heat big. I luv u. Hug u.:

“Daniel … that speak with animals I just cast in-game.”

“Yeah, I’m still looking up the intelligent level of the racoons.” The DM glanced over his carved wooden screen. “Oh, Rascal got out again. I need to get a better cover for him. Don’t worry, he isn’t poisonous.”

“Venomous, he isn’t venomous.”

:I swift like wind. Hunt spring on buggies. Nom nom.:

Daniel shrugged. “Not poisonous either.” He flipped a few more pages. “Alright I found it.”

“Where did you get the chant you gave to me?”

“Oh, do you like it? I thought since we are doing one-on-one games while Mica and Dave are on their honeymoon, we could really explore your magic-using. Found it in an old Dragon Magazine at C-Me-Rolling. Someone had marked a set of six to hell and gone, so I got them for a steal – early publications, like in the thirties or fifties, and found that in the margins.”

“Um, so these other five charms you gave me…”

:You nice warm – bettir than lamp. I sleep.:

As you will, I thought toward it. I got back something that felt like a vibration-purr-drifting-off.

“Yeah, whoever did it stuck in a few in every book. They seemed cool, usually surrounding articles explaining how to make the game more immersive.”

“Just curious, did you read these aloud?”

“Sure, just checking the cadence and what-not. They felt good.”

Looking over the list Daniel gave me, after speak with animals, there was also Detect Magic; Light; Magic Missile; Invisibility; and Fire Bolt. “Anything strange happen?”

“What, like a light show? Nah, I never play magic-users, not like you.” Daniel smiled. “Give me a fighter any day. Something that could be real.”

“Right … um, could I see those magazines when we are done this session? They sound cool.”

“Sure, now the Racoon asks for some of your peanuts in exchange for the location the goblins went.”

(words 364; first published 2/16/2025)

Ye Olde Dragon Magazines Series

Flash: The Back Room Part 3

February 9, 2025February 13, 2025 Erin Penn Leave a comment

ID 18618401 © Justin Black | Dreamstime.com

When the landlord closed the door behind him, hiding the Back Room from the mayhem of the harvest festival overflow happening in the front, Nigel jumped out of his seat and took a few steps over the Ashall woolen knotted carpet likely brought across the ocean on a Zeriff ship. “No, we should—”

“No?” Matthews firmly interrupted, pulling the younger man up short, like he was a squire again. “My lands, Sir.”

“Yes, your Grace.” Nigel froze his movement, perhaps for the first time since his horse arrived three hours ago, dropping his eyes to his boots in a short nod. “My apologies.”

“Apologies are only worth their weight in adjustment of behavior.”

“Yes, your Grace.” Nigel widened his stance, properly bowing his head and clasping his hands behind his back. Many a time he had heard those words, and he knew Matthews would accept only one response. “How may I amend my discourtesy?”

Waiting, the young man felt the stare on his head, like a sword across the neck, even though his old knight never rose from his chair. Behind him, he heard silks and cottons rustle. Heat rose up his neck, the blush fortunately hidden under his carvat and the high neck of this riding jacket. To be corrected in front of a peasant! Worse, to DESERVE to be corrected.

“Help the Mistress remove her boots.” Matthews ordered. “I know I taught you how to properly care for the boots and blisters of a hard march. Dismissed.”

Nigel flinched at the emotional emptiness of the last word. He hated that desolation of emotions while in the field at age ten, he hated it now, fourteen years later. And he hated himself for mastering the same tone shortly after he was knighted at seventeen when he needed the tent cleared and the men of his unit to be about their business. He had hoped his fighting years were behind him after he served the required ten years Jackel demanded, but with the recall to family lands, he knew family requirements would again burden his shoulders.

He spun neatly to see the woman had raised her skirts to her knees, the clay from the hems flaking off either side onto the towels laid out by the keep’s sons. The clay caked the boots over the foot laces and up to the third of four buckles on the calves. Streaks of mud disappeared into the fabric hiding her thighs. The Crew of Crew, Zeriff’shaZeriff, whatever her real name was, attempted with shaking fingers to unbuckle the top right buckle.

Her head tilted slightly up to glare at him. Daring him to come closer, the poison in her eyes hidden behind the veil. “Your Grace,” her travel roughened voice whispered from her precarious position, “I couldn’t … wouldn’t presume.”

“Please Mistress,” Matthews smooth voice gave no hint of shouting orders at troops for thirty years, before Jackel had let his uncle retire shortly after Nigel’s officer ceremony. “I assure you, my ex-ward is well-versed in bandaging wounded feet. If you are to get to Blackstone, you have another two days travel, four maybe even five if you rejoin your caravan, depending on how many gifts your country has sent for the royal wedding.”

Nigel watched her shoulders sag within the Kylar bodice; it lacked the shoulder padding found in the Mysentte fashion. He vastly preferred the Kylar fashion for the mobility allowed both men and women, and for the thinner tops in the warmer climate. Some fabric worn by the matriarchs was thin to the point of being translucent under the netted supporting bodice.

“Very well,” she said. For the first time, she turned her head completely to Nigel. “Thank you. Lesh modula ever.”

“Ma’ke.” Nigel responded as he sunk to his knees upon the towels. He moved the bowl of water aside, to better access the boots. Up close, as he worked the soaked and stretched buckles loose, he noticed how the boniness of her knees, the lack of imprint or dye painting on the boots, and the mud coating the underlayers of her skirts.

Had she hike the outer layers over her head, or removed them entirely until she had reached the outskirts of Climb’s Start.

When the fourth buckle gave way, he pulled the top apart, widening it, revealing a ring of blisters around the top of her calf where the wet leather had rested. Assessment of the layers of mud covering the laces on the bottom had him reaching for the top towel of the pile left by the keep’s family. After wetting it in the bowl, he started wiping the clay away.

Nigel felt remorse for judging the woman so harshly. No harrigan would have walked herself to blisters and her gloves to shreds to prevent her horse from getting a split hoof after it threw a shoe as she guided it through a foreign country. Lesson number a hundred and fifty on the subject of never make assumptions. Someday he will learn it.

He heard the innkeep come in with their food, the woman thanked the keep for the heated spiced wine and the small basket of broken bread and cheese as he placed it on the settee beside her. She nibbled small bits from the basket by burrowing a hand under her veil and getting the food to her mouth. She left the mulled wine on the table Matthews had been keeping his books. Over his head, once the food had arrived, the Zeriff asked Matthews what Blackstone was like and if he knew any of the wedding plans.

Did Matthews know about the wedding plans? Nigel snorted as the polite discussion continued. She sidestepped Matthews’ first questions about the largesse within the bride gifts her country was sending to the royal wedding. Surprise for the crown and safety for the travel were her excuses. Blackstone, being the winter castle for the kingdom had fewer visitors than Redstone, but still had few political secrets to hide, ended up being the least fraught topic they settled on. Searching questions about the gardens, mountain roads to there, and how the split of the castle worked for both guests and hosts for the genders, kept the conversation light, yet meaningful.

After clearing enough of the mud to untie the boot lacing across the top of the inset on both the boots and getting the left boot unbuckled, he slipped the left one off first since that was the one he had in hand, to find a not quite emaciated leg, much much thinner than legs of the court ladies Nigel had the pleasure being close enough to view. Rashes, ulcers, and blisters furthered marred his favorite body part to have wrapped around his waist. Arm hugs came a close second. A rolled down, scrunched sock, silk, not thick wool, dyed in a mix of dark and bright red liquid clung around her toes. The boot sloshed.

He poured the noxious mix of leather-spoiled water, sweat, blister fluid, and blood into the bucket, then worked the second boot off. Zeriff’shaZeriff panted quietly above him to hold back a moan.

Looking up, Nigel finally caught a clear view of her eyes. Bloodshot from pain, the brown held a golden undertone. Too much yellow to be anything but magic, but a woman powerful enough to travel on her own would be expected to hold some. Not a full green, as was the case of most of the females chosen for the Roadsky Queens, nor the gold of the most powerful witches, but enough undertones to lead a caravan of merchants delivering a bridal gift to a royal wedding from a pirate kingdom.

No man had yellow in his eyes, nor green. Nigel’s were pure blue, like his brothers and his father.

He wanted to paint those eyes and lost himself in the gradations of color, somehow enhanced rather than spoiled by the tired bloodshot color of what was normally white. His fingers twitched on leather, wanting a palette and brush instead.

“Add about half the tea leaves and marigold flowers, and a quarter of the salt to the water.”

“What, huh?”

The woman’s tired voice repeated instructions to prepare the water to cleanse wounds.

“Right.” Nigel said, setting aside the boot he had been holding.

(words 1,385; first published 2/13/2025)

The Back Room series

Book Review: The Midnight Library

November 5, 2024September 17, 2023 Erin Penn Leave a comment

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The Midnight Library by Matt Haig

BOOK BLURB ON AMAZON

Somewhere out beyond the edge of the universe there is a library that contains an infinite number of books, each one the story of another reality. One tells the story of your life as it is, along with another book for the other life you could have lived if you had made a different choice at any point in your life. While we all wonder how our lives might have been, what if you had the chance to go to the library and see for yourself? Would any of these other lives truly be better?

In The Midnight Library, Matt Haig’s enchanting blockbuster novel, Nora Seed finds herself faced with this decision. Faced with the possibility of changing her life for a new one, following a different career, undoing old breakups, realizing her dreams of becoming a glaciologist; she must search within herself as she travels through the Midnight Library to decide what is truly fulfilling in life, and what makes it worth living in the first place.

MY REVIEW

(Book trigger warning: Suicide Idealization)

Been there, didn’t choose that, regret.
But what if you could review all the regrets of your life and see the other choices? The Midnight Library provides the opportunity.

The concept of “Redo” of regrets is one authors and readers keep circling back to. “I can do it better this time!” And yet, and yet, not really. The “It’s a Wonderful Life” movie and Charles Dickens “Christmas Carol” are two examples of this recycling concept in action.

The Midnight Library’s particular version of the regret-redo uses the library of life trope where every book contains a life, in this case – the life of the main character (MC). This manuscript brings nothing new to the plate of regret-redos storylines, except updating the regret-redo concept for 2020 readers.

Which isn’t a bad thing. Sometimes basic concepts that people explore as their life moves forward just need a dust off for the next generation to consider. Regret being one. Mr. Haig does create a wide range of choices and has a strong MC to work from, plus the story keeps a good balance between reflection and exploration.

Book Review (SERIES): The Ridnight Mysteries

October 15, 2024June 11, 2024 Erin Penn Leave a comment

The build on this series is intoxicating. The first book introduces us to a world on the brink of industrialization through a murder mystery in the most magical and tribal part of this fantasy world. The second book weaves in stronger political portions with a heist in a Frontier Kingdom. The amazing conclusion is located in the industrial cities which straddle democracy and corporate oligarchy with a kidnapping mystery. Each mystery is different, each locale is different, the stakes keep rising, and there is no “saggy” middle to this series.

The Ridnight Mysteries Series by Stuart Jaffe

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BOOK BLURB ON AMAZON for THE WATER BLADE

A brave warleader on a quest for a mythical weapon, Axon Coponiv is forced to look outside her trusted party for help when one of her own is mysteriously slain. She turns to Zev Asterling, a failed businessman, displaced aristocrat, and psuedo-detective, to help her find out who killed her man and why. The mystery deepens as Zev realizes that the killer must be someone close to Axon, perhaps even one of the others in her band.

Is it Pilot, the genial but deadly warrior who has served alongside Axon for many years? Henlio, the quiet but steady sword who has stood by her through battle after battle? Or the mysterious witch Bellemont, one of the mysterious Stolen, about whom little is known?

To get to the bottom of this mystery, Zev will have to use all his intelligence and guile, not only to find the killer, but also to stay alive as the party traverses the treacherous distance to Castle Ridnight and the legendary Water Blade, the only weapon that can stop the encroachment of the armies of the West and their mysterious god-leader known only as The Beast.

The Water Blade is the first in a new trilogy of fantasy mystery novels from Stuart Jaffe, author of the Nathan K series and the Max Porter Mysteries.

MY REVIEW for THE WATER BLADE

A fantasy and a mystery, but not exceptional in either genre to drown in, still an tasty mixture to sip. The characters were more complex than the fantasy world-building and the mystery, though the foundation laid for the gods, the politics, and the magic system look promising for the rest of the series now that the initial premise has been developed in book one.

The Water Blade follows two POV characters, one a solider in search of legendary status and one is a natural detective in search of a challenge. Neither one comes from a family that understands their ambitions. Together they might change the world.

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BOOK BLURB ON AMAZON for THE WATERS OF TALADORO

The Shield of Taladoro. A mythic artifact recovered by the valiant efforts of Axon Coponiv along with brave adventurers from the East and the Feral Lands.

But now, during the unveiling celebration at Ridnight Castle, the Shield has been stolen. The King tasks Zev Asterling, master-solver, with finding it.

The guests, representatives from either side of the world, point fingers at each other, and Zev must navigate the lies and treachery behind someone who has taken the Shield but is still in the castle. Tensions mount as he interviews all those who had a hand in finding the Shield and getting it to the castle. If he doesn’t solve the case and find the Shield fast, a war is going to begin. Right there in the ballroom.

MY REVIEW for THE WATERS OF TALADORO

I don’t normally struggle to solve the mystery before the detective. Usually I am content to observe the master solver resolving the issue, watching it unfurl like a flower in the sun, but the interviews just begged me to peel back the layers of the mystery.

I adored the interviews which furnished flashback/backstory, supplied character development, and provided clues and plot points. The format provided a different way to approach the heist mystery than the Ridnight Mysteries Book 1 (The Water Blade), which was a murder mystery. I also appreciated different types of mysteries to be resolved in the series and am curious to what type of mystery the author has chosen for the third and final book of the series.

If you want some mystery in your fantasy, or some fantasy in your mystery, The Ridnight Mysteries are a good set to pick up.

So did I solve the mystery? … Yes and no. I had a guess and I stuck with it forever and it was kind-of right, and many of the clues I picked up were the correct ones. I would say my guess was close enough to be right, but my particular flavor … I was too wedded to it and should have been open to more options.

Editing comments – these are just my opinions, and, in fact, IMHO more than normal. I disliked some of the modern slang and/or Earth specific slang. The Ridnight Mysteries are set in a steampunk era world, so some of the slang is appropriate, but since I was reading a fantasy, it bothered me. “Rollicking time”- very early 1800 expression, first recorded during 1805-1815 according to the dictionary, would exist in the steampunk era, from 1850-1900. The big one for me was “scapegoat” which has very specific religious significance within the Judio-Christian belief system. On the other hand, The Ridnight Mysteries series has already introduced two or three religious systems and any of them could have created the scapegoat concept as well.

Basically, any of the slang terms used fall within the possible; I personally didn’t like their use in a non-Earth fantasy novel. But that is on me.

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BOOK BLURB ON AMAZON for WATERFIRE

The thrilling conclusion to The Ridnight Mysteries!

After returning to the East, Zev Asterling attempts to put away his Master-Solver days and rebuild his life. Political tensions have run high since the events at Ridnight Castle, and a summit between the Frontier and the East is a sliver of light that many cling to.

But when a politician’s daughter is kidnapped, Zev is called upon to do what he does best. With the help of Axon, Pilot, and Bellemont, they must find the daughter in order to avert an all-out war. Along the way, his companions will have to resolve their feelings about the gods, their nations, and each other if they want to make it out alive.

Zev will have to set aside long-held grudges and family issues to deal with a threat the likes of which no one has ever encountered before, as his investigation takes him deep into the bowels of the city, pits him against a bizarre cult, and forces him to battle rogue witches who have the power to destroy the entire East.

MY REVIEW for WATERFIRE

The third and final book of the Ridnight Mysteries slams it out of the ballpark with the culmination of the worldbuilding for the last three books. While the start is slow, setting all the pieces into position for the mystery and the political thriller, once the action starts, it does not stop, ever. By the end, you feel like you have gone through a battle alongside the characters.

I should mention while our heroes do reach a satisfying conclusion in this fantasy detective series, the author leaves enough threads trailing into the future he could create another series which I would read through my eye-teeth if he manages to pull off another conclusion like this epic ending. The world is so layered, you know that the universe is continuing beyond the words of “the end” appearing on the last page.

Each of the stories of this Mystery series has concentrated on a different type of crime. The first one was the typical murder mystery, the second a heist, and the third contains a kidnapping. Usually a mystery series gets a little same-y feeling when reading them back-to-back, but with the changing crime focus and locales (East, Frontier, West), each book of this series feels remarkably fresh.

The theme of exploring toxic family vs. found family continues strongly in this book.

Zev, one of the two main Point of View (POV) characters, can be hard to deal with as he has the full confidence of a master craftsman and the internal destruction of the imposter syndrome. Some people may ask how both can inhabit the same body; if you know creators, you know this personality – godhood and worthless-worm. It is exhausting to deal with, but very real.

I do like the fact none of the characters are good at everything. The team of found family each have their specialty and respects each other in the area of their mastery, and teases them when not working in their best area. Like three friends going shopping – one drives, another is the SHOPPER, and the third keeps the other two on schedule so they get back in time to wrap the presents for the party.

Final mention, if you have read the other series books, you know the body-horror aspect of the magic system. This book takes it to a new level as one expects in an epic conclusion. I would say this last book crosses into horror as much as it crosses over into romance and political-thriller, while always respecting the core genre of detective-fantasy.

In conclusion, Waterfire delivers on the Ridnight Mystery series. It can work as a standalone, but you will be doing yourself a disservice not to become immersed in the world before experiencing the conclusion. Because, wow, the series is as amazing as this book on its own.