My tag for things set in the same universe as "Sleeping with Ghosts" is "Nothing Goes Right for Yordan Korvechi," which is about as accurate a tag as you're likely to find on the internet. This is not because he is an assassin; holy assassins are regarded as slightly creepy necessary evils in his world, rather like traveling dentists with switchblades. Neither is it because he's a priest, although that certainly means more people are looking to him to fix what goes wrong than would otherwise be the case. By and large he leads an unremarkable life, albeit one where he kills quite a lot of people.

No, I'm forced to believe that Yordan was simply born unlucky. In a world where cold iron wards off the creatures that prowl the forests, a world where soullessness has practical as well as theological consequences, it's odd that "luck" isn't a more prominent concept. Chance, now, chance is a thing; people roll the bones to wager away their wages there as often as they do here. Chance might mean it's your throat cut and not another's, in the cities where death is still infrequent enough to be novel. But luck, the idea that there is some guiding force in the universe that has reached down its hand with the express purpose of fucking up your day, is relatively unknown. There are gods of profit and gods of death, gods of the harvest and gods of the archive, but Lady Fortuna does not rank among them.

Make no mistake, though, Yordan Korvechi is not a lucky man. In "Sleeping with Ghosts," he sets out to commit a murder and instead finds himself solving one--and finding to his vast irritation that, for all his attempted professionalism, he is not ultimately the culprit. When next we join our plucky young priest, he will be attempting to take a seaside holiday with his boyfriend to recover from the death of a friend. Bragava is the perfect resort town for a man with grief to sort through: quiet, slow, and (most importantly) far, far away from anyone he knows.

Unfortunately, the sleepy city by the sea has roused itself from a long slumber and begun to boil with revolutionary sentiment, and Yordan doesn't even have a potholder to his name.

He was definitely planning to get laid more on this vacation.

*

Tune in periodically for more updates on how nothing goes right for Yordan Korvechi!
 
 
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After a long time away, I've returned to my recreational writing habit with two upcoming anthology publications. Both of these projects are exciting for me, because both potentially have novels attached, so expect a lot of wittering about minor characters and plot logic and the logistics of xenokink. "Deadline" in Tall, Dark, and Wriggly (more on that in the months to come!) is a science fictional story about interspecies politics, power plays, and hot tentacle dickings, which honestly you all should've expected if you know my body of work thus far. I must've been tentacle monstered out, though, because while "Sleeping with Ghosts" is being published in Bump in the Night--an erotic horror anthology with two tentacle sex stories--there is not a single tentacle to be found in it. You could call it a Grimmpunk religious murder mystery, if you were the kind of person who used words like "Grimmpunk," or you could call it an affair between the spirit and the flesh. If you wanted to throw in a lascivious wink at the end there, I wouldn't blame you.


In a land where travelers go to bed with cold iron close to hand and soulless children rip their mothers apart, Yordan Korvechi is a member of a religious order with one purpose: holy assassination. He gets more than he bargained for, though, when his Father Superior sends him on an urgent mission deep into the eastern hinterland. The target, Kardam Zavachi, is not yet ready to die--and as his hungry ghost returns to trouble Yordan's sleep, Yordan begins to realize that killing him was the easy part.
                                                                                                                  Excerpt available here.


If Bump in the Night sounds like your kind of thing, you can pre-order right now. (Seriously, you want to pre-order this right now, because everyone who pre-orders gets the book two days early and is entered into a contest to win free books from Riptide for a year. If it weren't a breach of etiquette, I'd be pre-ordering under six different pseudonyms. Free books is a huge enticement for me.)


So, to sum up, I'm back to erotic horror, tentacleporn, and space boyfriends. Apparently I haven't learned a thing from being away.