The Witch’s Second

Lillian countered by flinging a particular spelled spice blend about her. I couldn't tell what it was supposed to do, other than make me want roast chicken for luncheon, but Lord Benderskeith fell to his knees. Lillian took advantage of his moment of weakness to reach for some of the fermented entrails. But Lord Benderskeith rallied astonishingly, summoning an ugly little imp to wreak havoc with Lillian's work.

One can scarcely thank a man for promising to thrash one's best friend in a duel.
The Angel Azrael Rode into the Town of Burnt Church on a Dead Horse

When he was done killing another glass, he dragged the demons' bodies out of the saloon into the street for the buzzards circling overhead. They’d eat anything. There were a few more people standing in the doorways of other buildings now. He couldn’t tell if they were ghosts or not. He didn’t have an eye for that sort of thing.

Azrael shook his head. He didn't need to eat. Didn't need to drink either. But need and want were different things.
Audio Fiction Podcast:
My Father’s Wounds

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Father guides my hand to the ruin of his belly. My fingers sink into the wound, touching something moist and pulsing—