Rivergrace, reprinted in The Dark #109
The river brought the man, but Grace let him spend the deep night on the softly-ferned bank, refusing to budge from the tuff walls of the old granary to bring him in from the darkness. Hunger clawed at her belly. She had not been outside for two weeks. Morning light was slow to pierce the valley but as it did, the ferns glowed with the gold and amber, no matter how meager.
The Best Horror of the Year, Vol. 16,
edited by Ellen Datlow
“The Louder I Call, the Faster It Runs” (Bourbon Penn #31) will appear in the annual collection of best horror. Check Ellen’s site for the full table of contents!
The Year’s Best Fantasy, Vol.3, edited by Paula Guran
“Remembered Salt” (F&SF March/April 2023) will appear in this annual collection of year’s best fantasy. Check Paula’s site for the full table of contents!
Homewrecker, Apex Magazine #141
Episode 60, Transcription by @jbutler22
0:01Murray: Hey there, I’m Dean Murray and this is a special episode of Homewrecker. We’re on the road this week, heading up to historic [garbled] where we’ll venture [garbled] outside the city to see the colonial mansion known as Cutter House. While you’re isolating, I will be too—undertaking this reno while the owners are away.
The Crawling Moon
Includes my short story “Beauty in the Blight,” about a ruined world full of ruined people, vaguely in the realm of Gatsby. Full table of contents over at Neon Hemlock.
The Necessity of Stars, Neon Hemlock
“Tobler’s prose is always stunning, her characters rich, and her worlds immersive. The Necessity of Stars is no exception with its beautiful exploration of memory, perception, what we choose to see and what we choose to ignore, and our responsibility to each other and to the planet.”
—A.C. Wise, author of Wendy, Darling
The Louder I Call, the Faster It Runs, Bourbon Penn #31
In the predawn dark, Annie found herself in a bed, holding onto another hand beneath the cool weight of the pillow. Floral case, it was the trailer—her trailer—and slowly she came back to herself, to her body, and kissed the folded fingers beneath the pillow before claiming the ringing phone, dreadful thing. The voice on the other end was frantic, offering double pay because the cops needed her—needed her boat, a man had gone missing—Ricky had that charter, didn’t she remember—it had to be her, there was no one else. Triple, she said. She lived plain, but there were always bills.
