Short Story

New year, new projects!

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With 2023 underway, it’s time to check in with our authors and upcoming projects!

The big news is that Adventure Worlds Press is putting together a tenth-anniversary anthology! Since AWP began with short stories, we thought a collection would be a cool way to celebrate a decade of writing and publishing genre fiction. Although it’s still pretty early in the process, we’ll be posting more about it in the coming months.

In the meantime, Ben Van Dongen is knee-deep in edits on his Invasion Novel. He continues to post weekly updates and thoughts about writing on his long-standing blog. If you checked in on him right now, you’d probably find him listening to music and typing away on a new short story!

Christian Laforet a.k.a. C.M. Forest had a stellar year for publishing, with his horror novella and novel getting a lot of attention! You can expect to see some of his short stories in anthologies and magazines, and stay tuned for some exciting projects in the works.

Brittni Brinn is editing a novel while taking a bit of a writing break after the release of Where Long Shadows End. Watch for a short story coming out from her in the summer!

This year, AWP is once again going to be venturing out to book events and conventions near you! The details are up on our Events page. Come say hi!

Thanks to all of our readers for the incredible support this past year. We’re proud of the books we put out and are looking forward to having something new for you to read very soon!

The Secret to Writing a Novel

/ Brittni Brinn / Leave a comment

Welcome, readers, and especially writers searching for that ever-elusive secret of how to write a novel! It truly is the fountain of youth, the holy grail, the lost car keys for every writer looking to make that leap into the long-form of prose that has foiled so many seekers before! In trying to uncover this enigma, I consulted with the authors here at Adventure Worlds Press. Their advice will shock you! Do you dare read on, and at last reach the secret to writing a novel?

…

Are you still here? Good. Then let us continue.

I first approached Ben Van Dongen, the triple-threat of the company. Short stories, novellas, novels, he’s done them all! Surely he knows the secret to writing a novel? Let us see what he has to say:

“Writing a short story is easy. A monkey could do it in her sleep. You’re smarter than a monkey, right? Just write the thing.

Novellas require the kind of free algorithms you can download off the dark web. Usually Russian or Chinese in origin, expect to have to do some translating, but it’s not much more work than what the monkey does.

To write a novel on the other hand (a novel worth reading at least) you need to go to your local library. Give the librarian the secret handshake and a crisp hundred-dollar bill. They’ll take you to the hidden section where you can get a book to summon a demon. Make sure to get one with a really long name. The short name ones are bad at spelling.”

Ah, yes, the age-old bribing-a-librarian-to-reach-diabolical-novelistic-heights trick! But is this truly the secret to writing a novel?

I continued my search, next seeking out Christian Laforet. Recently signed on to a two-book deal with Raven’s Tale publishing, he would be the logical person to ask about the holy grail of novel writing. His comments:

“Marry someone with money. Lots of money. That way there’ll be no pesky day job to interfere with the writing of you masterpiece.”

Another solid piece of advice! Those day jobs, sucking the creative spirit from the genius novelist, ah! Best to seek out a wealthy partner and sponge off of them for life!

But again, I was not satisfied in my quest for the secret! As a last resort, I took to the deep, grim forest paths that lead to an abandoned cabin where they say at least three ghosts reside. I gathered my courage, and went inside, where I found C.M. Forest, roasting marshmallows over a space heater.

“Please!” I begged him, “My search has been so long! What, oh what, is the secret to writing a novel?”

C.M. Forest turned to me and said: “Write every day. Even if it’s only 500 words. 500 words a day will give you two novels by the end of the year.”

The horror! I ran from the cabin screaming and have never been the same since. My quest for the secret to writing a novel was all in vain!

Unless…

Do you know the secret?

Do you?

What’s Next from AWP?

/ Ben Van Dongen / 1 Comment

September / October 2020

120108498_4451387658266981_1926075961421334201_oHello all. Ben here. After pushing Christian into doing monthly posts, I find that I failed to get one done for September. I had this post planned, but the proof is in the pudding and there wasn’t any (pudding or proof). I may do another post later in the month to make up for it, but I want to make sure there is something to say and I’m not pulling what I do on my other page and forcing a post when there is really no news. I believe in the advertising philosophy that an ad owes you either information or entertainment in payment for your time. And what are these posts, really, other than advertisements for us? Continue reading →

Unmoored

/ Christian Laforet / Leave a comment

By Justine Alley Dowsett

Red in the face, Renaud Laurent stood and slammed his cup down, splashing ale on the table’s checkered cloth. “I’ll bet any one of you here,” he slurred in his thick French accent, “that I’m the luckiest man ever to have crossed the Ismeran Channel!”

“Aww, sit down and put your money where your mouth is, Renaud!” His dicing companion, a red-headed Haldoram man, nudged the dicing cup toward him, taking a swig from his own ale cup and wiping his scruffy chin with the back of his hand. “All you do is talk.”

“Ginny, another round please,” Renaud called out after dribbling ale all over his thick curly beard, “I’m about to win all of Dagan’s coin.”

“If you lose this hand, I’ll buy the round,” Dagan countered.

Renaud grinned, scooping the dice up into his calloused hands. “As you say.”

He blew on the dice in his hands for emphasis, his blue eyes twinkling with more than just drink under his thick brown brows, before he let them fly onto the checkered cloth below and waited, holding his breath.

“Ha!” Dagan jeered. “That’s a win for me.”

Renaud studied the results of the dice closely, feigning shock. “Why, I believe you’re right, Dagan.” He lifted his head. “Ginny, I’ll have that ale now.”

“You’ve had more than your share,” Ginny called back, but that didn’t stop her from delivering another cup at Dagan’s expense, sashaying her ample bottom as she did so.

Dagan scowled, seeming to realize he’d been played, but wisely kept his thoughts to himself. Seeing that he’d possible overstayed his welcome, Renaud downed his first cup and started in on his second as he looked about for another dicing partner.

“Ah, well, I guess I better call it a night,” he said loudly, wobbling slightly as he reached for his winnings from the night. Not bad, he noted, mentally tallying them, though I should’ve bet less on that last round.

He turned about, ready to depart, only to find a lithe, dark-haired man staring intently at him. Renaud squinted at the newcomer. By his appearance, he was not a sailor like most of the patrons at The Crow’s Nest. His hair was greasy and pulled back into a loose tail at the nape of his neck, and his clothes were well-tailored and expensive looking, though they had clearly seen better days.

“Excuse me,” Renaud belched. “I was just leaving.”

“Luckiest man ever to have sailed across the Ismeran Channel, huh?” the man questioned, eyeing the dice on the table. “Ever thought of playing a game with a bit more skill involved? Poker, by chance?”

Renaud looked down into his mostly full cup. “Well, it seems I’ve still got some left in me after all,” he drawled. “Why not?” Continue reading →

Monster Rabbit Test

/ Ben Van Dongen / Leave a comment

Edele Winnie

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”  Allen said. His pale face was completely serious, even though what he was suggesting was ludicrous.

His skinny girlfriend Sheila shook her head, her long chestnut hair catching a shine in the light. “You’re right. I don’t believe you,” she looked again at the metal cage on the dresser and the small black and white rabbit that wiggled its nose within. “Bunny Hopwell wouldn’t hurt a flea.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have told you,” Allen said sullenly, brushing a lock of pale blond hair off his forehead. “You never believe anything I say.”

“That’s not true. Besides this is just a little too much- do you really expect me to believe that he turns into a monster at night?”

“Not every night. Just certain nights. I can’t tell if there’s a pattern.”

Sheila shook her head. “Nope. Don’t believe. How would you know this anyway?”

“I saw it happen. I had let him out to stretch his legs. A shaft of moon light hit him and he transformed into this big scary thing. His ears- he still had big bunny ears- they were touching the ceiling. That’s how big he was. And he looked- demented.”

This time Sheila laughed. “Stop it,” she said. “You’re just making it worse. “

Allen became pouty and it made Sheila laugh even more.

“Come on you big goof, give me a hug. I love you even if you do have a weird sense of humour.”

They cuddled on the couch for half a bit and then he wanted to watch a movie on TV. She fell asleep near the middle of the martial arts and bang bang flick and when she opened her eyes again the house was in darkness, and she was shivering and alone. Allen must have gone to bed. She padded to the kitchen to get a drink of water before joining her boyfriend and passed by the room where Bunny Hopwell’s cage was located. The little door was open and the rabbit was nowhere in sight. A long beam of moon light shone in through the window and caressed the green shag carpet. Continue reading →

Mommy Won’t Wake Up

/ Ben Van Dongen / Leave a comment

Edele Winnie

Abigail was walking home from the dollar store when she heard the little voice. She had the day off and needed some new rubber gloves for washing dishes, as she was allergic to the soap. It was a beautiful Fall morning; warm and breezy and the few leaves that had already deserted their branches were racing with the wind across the road and through the grass.

Abbey liked to look around, she found other people, and the hints about their lives you could see in passing, fascinating. She was on a quiet street and at first the voice sounded like a squeak. She kept walking, ever mindful of rats in this city but then she heard it again, and recognized words this time.

“Hello, hello,” the little child’s voice called.

She tried to see where the voice was coming from. And then there it was- the house she was passing had the front door propped open and the little girl was standing there looking out. Abbey gave her a quick wave and kept walking.

The sound of little bare feet slapping concrete followed her and the little girl grabbed onto her shirt.

“Hello,” the little girl said.

Abbey smiled warmly at her. The girl’s clothes were worn and tattered and her face was smudged with dirt.

“My mother won’t wake up,” the little girl said. Continue reading →

Night Whispers

/ Ben Van Dongen / Leave a comment

Edele Winnie

It was the middle of the night when Megan heard the soft sounds. She clamped her hands over her ears and willed the sound to stop. If only she could fall asleep this way. She’d tried earplugs but the unnatural silence made her feel panicky. Her boyfriend Derek, asleep beside her, never heard anything in the night. He’d suggested she take a sleep aid, but Megan liked natural things and eschewed pharmaceuticals. Although after several weeks of night whispering she was ready to try anything.

She unclamped her ears and held her breath. Silence. Blessed quiet. She exhaled with relief. She was so tired. She could feel the gentle hands of sleep reaching up through the mattress for her.

“Sss sssh ssh-law sha-law.” The whispering went. “Sshh slee she slaw.”

Megan’s eyes flew open. No. No. Why wouldn’t it stop? They’d lived in the house two years before the whispering started. She looked at Derek and he was sound asleep, his lips slightly parted, peaceful. She felt a flash of anger towards him and sighed.  

            She was wide–awake now. She swung her bare feet out onto the cold floor. Continue reading →

Hole in the Wall: The Fifth Monday Three – Part Four

/ Ben Van Dongen / Leave a comment

By Edele Winnie

“Jocelyn, is it really you?” Carol asked the white-coated woman up on the catwalk. “I am so…. muddled.” Carol ran her hands through her brown hair but the confusion remained. They were surrounded by buzzing machines, tubes and metal catwalks. “What is this place?”

Jocelyn laughed. “It’s definitely not the bank. The Jocelyn who works there with you is just one version of me. A sister, if you like.”

Carol pointed at one of the large glass tubes. It was filled with green liquid and an exact copy of Carol herself, floating languidly. Beside that there were more tubes and copies. Carol shook her head, unable to find words. Beside her, Gary shifted into a quivering red cylinder shape.

“I see you’ve met Gary. He’s a portal jumper. A creature that can transfer between dimensions without decomposing.”

“You make me sound so dull.” Gary complained and transformed into a star shape. “I’m actually a star.”

Everything seemed to be swirling in her head and Carol looked for a place to sit. She settled on the bottom step of a metal ladder that led to a catwalk above.

Gary changed into a rhombus. “There was a cloh enforcer right behind us.” Continue reading →

2016 Mission 6, 443, 273

/ Ben Van Dongen / Leave a comment

By Edele Winnie

There were always four. That’s why this didn’t make sense. Wherever you went- corporation, village, unit, class, whatever- there were always four. But this time Melanie found five.

Melanie was a pro- not only highly trained and a weapons expert but she also had 12 years hard experience to back it up. She knew the ins, the ups and was careful enough to never even have been wounded. She was fast, thorough and deadly.

She had discovered them on her first day. It was at the Belcon Corporation head office, employing 350 with a fine dining cafeteria and company swimming pool. She’d had new employee orientation in the morning and then gone to the cafeteria for lunch. She was the new girl- short bobbed blonde, natural makeup, blue skirt and jacket- and all the company wolves took note. Clothes can’t hide real power- and Melanie was extremely fit and capable. Every wandering male eye was drawn as if by a magnet. But she ignored it. She had to. Not only was it an inconvenience, but the four would be unaffected. It might even make her stand out too much, and her cover would be blown.

Tray in hand, plate heaped with the salad of the day, Melanie strode into the cafeteria seating area prepared for the stares. She swayed her hips just a little bit more for those hungry eyes. She had to play the part if she was going to survive. She’d done it too many time before for it not to work. The men in suites looked up, the females scowled, and she was invited to sit beside a corporate vice president alpha wolf who was practically drooling. She flirted as she picked at her salad but her eyes were scanning for the four. They might be in hiding or they might be elsewhere- usually they were so used to being ignored that they were easy to spot. And there they were. Continue reading →

In a Perfect World

/ Ben Van Dongen / Leave a comment

By Edele Winnie

“Are you Mrs. Dununzio?” The doctor asked. At lease she assumed he was a doctor. He was wearing scrubs, had a pulled down mouth mask around his throat and a smear of blood that was just disappearing from his white coated chest.

Carol Dununzio nodded. “How is she?”

The doctor shook his head sadly.

“She’s not dead then?” Carol had to be certain.

“No.” The doctor said, frowning. “She lived. She’s going to be fine. I’m sorry.”

Carol Dununzio tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Her daughter still lived. Jessica, aged eleven, had survived. What was she going to do now?

A moment later another doctor wheeled Jessica out in a wheelchair. The young girl looked dazed, and the brown hair on the side of her head was matted with dried blood. The doctor tipped the chair and Jessica slid out and landed at her mother’s feet.

The doctors walked away, commenting on how awful the sunny weather currently was.

Carol grabbed Jessica by the arms and hauled her to her feet. The girl wobbled, but her legs held and so Mrs. Dununzio tugged her towards the emergency room doors.

The family car was easy to spot, for it was the least damaged in the lot. It was a fiery red and only the passenger side had been crashed in. The car in the spot next to it had been in so many accidents that it was now a patchwork of different colours as replacement parts had been added. One door was light blue, the next black, the roof was orange and there were other colours and some rust too. The car on the other side had been in a head on and all that remained of the windshield was jagged glass.

Mrs. Dununzio pushed Jessica into the back seat where the dead cocker spaniel was.   They’d found it by the side of the road about a week ago. It was long dead though and there were barely any insects in it anymore. Jessica was still bleeding lightly from her head wound. She lay down on the ripped seats in the back and wrapped her arms around the dead dog. Continue reading →