Dark Places: Rainbow Collections, #10
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About this ebook
Dreams. War. Winter and aliens and curses.
The Dark Places collection by Meyari McFarland will take you into the dark places we all fear to tread.
Includes six stories sure to stay with you after you turn off the lights.
The Haunted Half-Light
The Blade Was Not Brass
The Rings of Icy Mist
The Lived Glory
Mortal Stream of the Undead Sky
Shifting Towers of Fire
Meyari McFarland
Meyari McFarland has been telling stories since she was a small child. Her stories range from SF and Fantasy adventures to Romances but they always feature strong characters who do what they think is right no matter what gets in their way. Her series range from Space Opera Romance in the Drath series to Epic Fantasy in the Mages of Tindiere world. Other series include Matriarchies of Muirin, the Clockwork Rift Steampunk mysteries, and the Tales of Unification urban fantasy stories, plus many more. You can find all of her work on MDR Publishing's website at www.MDR-Publishing.com.
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Book preview
Dark Places - Meyari McFarland
Dark Places
Meyari McFarland
MDR Publishing
Contents
Other Books by Meyari McFarland:
Special Offer
Author's Note: The Haunted Half Light
The Haunted Half-Light
Author's Note: The Blade Was Not Brass
The Blade Was Not Brass
Author's Note: The Rings of Icy Mist
The Rings of Icy Mist
Author's Note: The Lived Glory
The Lived Glory
Author's Note: Mortal Stream of the Undead Sky
Mortal Stream of the Undead Sky
Author's Note: Shifting Towers of Fire
Shifting Towers of Fire
Author's Note: Transplant of War
1. Sand
2. Trap
Other Books by Meyari McFarland:
Afterword
Author Bio
Other Books by Meyari McFarland:
Day Hunt on the Final Oblivion
Day of Joy
Immortal Sky
A New Path
Following the Trail
Crafting Home
Finding a Way
Go Between
Like Arrows of Fate
Out of Disaster
The Shores of Twilight Bay
Coming Together
Following the Beacon
The Solace of Her Clan
You can find these and many other books at www.MDR-Publishing.com. We are a small independent publisher focusing on LGBT content. Please sign up for our mailing list to get regular updates on the latest preorders and new releases and a free ebook!
Copyright ©2018 by Mary Raichle
Print ISBN: 978-1-64309-042-9
Cover image
ID 43651053 © breakermaximus | Dreamstime.com
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Requests for permission to make copies of any part of the work should be emailed to publisher@mdr-publishing.com.
This book is also available in TPB format from all major retailers.
Created with Vellum Created with Vellum
This collection is dedicated to Dean Wesley Smith for reminding me to put out collections, not just short stories and books.
Special Offer
The rainbow has infinite shades, just as this collection covers the spectrum of fictional possibilities.
From contemporary romances like The Shores of Twilight Bay to dark fantasy like A Lone Red Tree and out to SF futures in Child of Spring, Iridescent covers the gamut of time, space and genre
Meyari McFarland shows her mastery in this first omnibus collection of her short fiction. Twenty-five amazing stories, all with queer characters going on adventures, solving mysteries, and falling in love are here in the first Rainbow Collection.
And now you can get this massive collection of short queer fiction, all of it with the happy endings you love, for free!
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Author's Note: The Haunted Half Light
It's a rare thing for me to write stories with a spooky edge to them. In general, it's not where my mind goes when I sit down to write. But every so often, my mind goes to darker places. Haunted places. Haunted dreams and worlds, magic both twisted and terrifying.
This story was one that came from a dream I had. It started with an image and grew into so much more. Eventually, I suspect there may be a series blooming out of this one little story, just because it had such a powerful impact on me.
The Haunted Half-Light
Clouds billowed overhead, monstrous, dark, shot through with lightning that never struck the earth. Rain hung in sheets from the bottoms of the clouds, but it never got close to the ground, either. Kanti stared up and up, and up, heart pounding as she bit her lip. There were trees around her, black trunks scorched by fire not long gone. Ashes drifted in the air. One tiny coal floated past her eyes, lighting the darkness with the promise of another firestorm raging over the top of her.
Her nightgown billowed in a wind she didn't feel. There was no scent of ash, no smell of distant rain. No sound of thunder rumbling constantly through the air despite the lightning. When she looked down, her feet were bare. Underneath them were coals, red and white with ash.
It should hurt. The air should hurt her nose, her throat, her lungs. This didn't make sense.
You're dreaming.
Kanti turned. A woman in stained pale blue yoga pants and a sagging tank top stood next to her. The tank top barely restrained breasts so full that they would never be perky. Her eyes were the sort of green that people in books talked about, the green of new green alder leaves with sunlight pouring through them.
Thank you,
the woman said, grinning. Mostly I think my eyes are kind of weird looking in real life. Too yellow, you know? Not enough green to make them easy to look at. I'm Joyce Banks from down the block. Don't think we've ever spoken to each other before.
Kanti blinked at her, then frowned. Had she spoken? No, she couldn't have. There were no lips on Kanti's face. No nose, either. She ran her hands over her face and shuddered to realize that all she had was a smooth blank disk with eyes. That was so very wrong.
Dreaming,
Joyce said. She reached towards Kanti but suddenly the distance between them stretched and stretch. Joyce began to shout across the growing space. You're dreaming, Kanti. This isn't real. You need to wake up or you'll get trapped in the half-light and never escape. Wake up. Wake up! Kanti, wake up!
Kanti tumbled out of her bed, gasping and wheezing. The bedroom smelled of sweat and garlic, of too-perfumed fabric softener and the long-gone cat the previous residents had secreted into the apartment. She shuddered and rubbed her hands over her face. They came away sweaty.
What was that?
Kanti asked as she slowly pulled herself back up onto the bed. The blankets were a tangled mess, soaked through by her night terror. I don't even know a Joyce. Joyce Banks. That can't be a real name. It can't.
But Joyce had seemed so real in the dream. The only thing that hadn't seemed real was Kanti herself. She could remember it all so perfectly when she never remembered her dreams. Fire-scorched trees, a thick coating of coals underfoot and thunderstorms overhead that gave no relief to the blasted landscape below.
She shook her head and stood, moving into the kitchen area of her little studio apartment. Sleep wasn't going to happen, not now. Even if she'd wanted to go back to sleep, the sheets and blankets needed to be washed. Dried at least. And the laundry room would be open at… three in the morning. God, tomorrow, today was going to be horrible.
Kanti still made tea, still curled up on her little loveseat and stared out at the maple trees outside her window. The leaves were changing from green to red and gold. Brown would come in a few days and then the branches would be bare while the ground would be carpeted by the fallen plate-sized leaves.
When dawn came, Kanti showered. Ate. Dressed. Stripped her bed and remade it with her spare set of sheets. Tucked the still-damp sheets into the hamper to be washed later. After work.
Her day was a series of nouns. Car. Street. Traffic. Office and timeclock and desk and