1. Announcement: Cover Reveal

2. Article / News

3. Eclectic Etymology: SINISTER

4. Short stories

   1. July Link: Should?

5. Other Book Updates

   1. Infinity Hall Kickstarter Page

6. Indie sci-fi novel

7. Cliff Cave Books Store

📢 ANNOUNCEMENT

I had submitted Subcutaneous to agents and got a full request about a couple months ago. Because of that, I haven’t talked much about it, in case it would be picked up for traditional publishing. However, on Monday morning (yesterday), I got the news that they are rejecting it. They had a lot of nice things to say, but cited “lack of enthusiasm” to support the project. I’m not sure what that means, but it is what it is.

So now I’ll be attempting to release an advanced reader copy (ARC) of Subcutaneous in time for Halloween 😊 I can’t guarantee that, since I still need to do a bunch of work to get it ready, but I’m going to try! If I get it out there, I’ll share the link with you all if you’d like to do an advanced review.

I started Subcutaneous a couple years ago, with the idea of blending my flagship genre, horror, with my long time hobby, soapmaking.

With that said, I have a tentative cover to show you!

Sebastian lives a low key life in the small town of Black River, Missouri. He leaves behind the corporate slog, the woman he once loved, and a childhood he can barely recall. One weekend, along with girlfriend, Lacey, he joins an old friend, Matty, and Mena, the ex-girlfriend now engaged to someone new. Their ordinary conversation evolves into a revelation about the absence of a former coworker that doesn’t appear accidental.

As Sebastian attempts to regain Mena’s affections, disturbing events befall the circle of friends that lead to the discovery of a strange white chapel in the middle of Fort Pines Park; a sprawling forest large enough to conceal the darkest of secrets.

Each new catastrophe draws closer to home, revealing cryptic connections between the chapel and a dark force hunting random victims to create ritualistic soap.

SUBCUTANEOUS explores themes of bodily autonomy, paranoia, and the fragile nature of reality through the lens of intimate horror.

📰 ARTICLE / NEWS

Not news, per se, but I just thought I’d share my addiction to perfume. I would be ashamed to tell you how many I actually have… full bottles, travelers, and samplers (it’s mostly samplers). My favorite house is House of Bo, and I just got one of their new releases. Their bottles are so pretty! I may be a tom boy, but there’s a girly-girl deep down under all this swag. The newest release is Acapulco 76, and while House of Bo claims to craft unisex fragrances, this one is very much for the ladies. I mean, unless you’re a dude that likes to smell like creamy flowers. I wouldn’t blame you.

Any Elden Ring fans in here?

I’ve been playing it for a few years now (still haven’t beaten it, just taking my time). If you’re not familiar with the game, other players can leave messages for you throughout the world. A lot of times, they’re cryptic battle tactics, or warnings about an ambush, or where to seek specific items, etc. The messages are boiler plate phrases that can be strung together to create these useful comments.

However, it’s always a joy to find these little gems like the one below hidden in dark corners, atop seemingly unreachable areas, and tucked behind crates:

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📜 ECLECTIC ETYMOLOGY

SINISTER

(14c.), from Latin sinister “left, on the left side” (opposite of dexter), a word of uncertain origin.

The Latin word was used in augury in the sense of “unlucky, unfavorable” (omens, especially bird flights, seen on the left hand were regarded as portending misfortune), and thus sinister acquired a sense of “harmful, unfavorable, adverse.” This was from Greek influence, reflecting the early Greek practice of facing north when observing omens. In genuine Roman auspices, the augurs faced south and left was favorable. Thus sinister also retained a secondary sense in Latin of “favorable, auspicious, fortunate, lucky.”

The word had become popular in the early 1820s, had a dip in popularity from then on until 2018.

How often do you use the word sinister? Did you know it originally meant “left?”

🔖 Short Stories

1. Should?: a short story written for one of the “owl” Writing Battle competitions, is a bittersweet time travel story sent out last month, so if you haven’t checked it out yet, here’s the link:
   

2. I had 3 back-to-back competitions, and I didn’t submit to one of them. The NYC Midnight contest was the first of their 2-story line, where I had to write 2 stories, each no longer than 300 words. I was able to turn them in at the 11th hour.

Coming to Substack on the 18th of August: Pogonophobia is the Fear of Beards

📖 Other Book Updates

Work In Progress Updates

• Infinity Hall: I’m making steady progress on the 4 novellas that will be included in the anthology. I’m excited to get this one going! If you haven’t followed the project yet, and are interested, click here to go there!

💲 Extras and Deals

A high octane alien invasion tale! Only $3.99 for the E-Book, or free with Kindle Unlimited

🫧 LH Soaps & Sundries updates

VISIT THE SOAP PAGE HERE to check out the “final call” soaps and/or the scrub bars.

I have combined all soaps into the Cliff Cave Books web shop. It will be easier for me to track inventory and check any orders in one place!

LINKTREE | PODCAST | YOUTUBE | WB DISCOUNT

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This short story was written for the WB short story challenge in 2026.

Rules: Create a 1000 word story using the prompts:

Whenever someone bemoans a long slog of a day, they’re really taking for granted that life is slipping past them. At least, that’s how Bo sees it from his dirty nest of blankets and cardboard on the sidewalk next to the antique mart with the neon sign. Each new sunrise is a reminder of how far he moves from what could have been a future with Agnes.

A suited man strolls by, waving a finger at Bo to quick deposit a donation of five credits to his miserable account.

“Bless you sir,” Bo mumbles as the man waves on.

The sun begins its descent yet again, and Bo sighs. The number ninety-eight flickers over his band ID and he wonders why he even bothers. As he shakes his head, he strolls into the antique mart, greeted by Rina, the usual woman at the counter with her long braided hair and ivory colored bohemian blouse.

Each artifact is a reminder of the past, and a wistful pinch squeezes his gut when he thinks of Agnes.

A patina of dust covers his favorite antiquity, and his fingers glance over all of it. Wood grain from the nineteenth century desk cabinet swerves over the ridges in his skin, reminding him of better times. A new item catches his eye on top of the cabinet. The setting sun casts magnified orange through unusual facets of something ornate and glass hidden between a set of melamine Mickey Mouse plates and an empty jewelry box.

It’s a perfume bottle. Bo picks it up and traces each raised decoration along it’s pear-shaped sides. Amber liquid has stained the glass from the inside, sitting halfway up the bulbous body.

“That’s something truly special,” Rina says. Bo jumps at her voice, unaware she had been nearby. She slowly takes the bottle from him, and her warm fingers float over his as he hands it to her.

“One spray and you’ll be transported to another time.” Her voice is airy, and she rotates the bottle in her hand. “Would you like to try it?”

Bo raises his brow. It’s clearly women’s perfume, and quite old. He’s certain the syrupy liquid inside wouldn’t do anything to transport him anywhere but deeper into his melancholy. Or a hospital.

“You’ll love it, I promise. I just got it today. It’s been blessed.”

Holding out his hand, he tilts his head as she hands the bottle back to him. Blessed… why though? It’s just old perfume that’s probably become cancerous in its age.

“Squeeze here,” she says, “and make sure to close your eyes.”

Bo shrugs and indulges Rina, squeezing the bulb. A generous aerosol of gourmand florals squirts from the nozzle and with a deep breath, he closes his eyes. It’s familiar, yet unplaceable. He ponders it. A few more experimental whiffs and the aroma is on the edge of his memory. Still can’t place it.

Defeated, he opens his eyes. Rina is gone, and he stands in his old kitchen, light flaring through the sliding glass doors, warming the bamboo planks on his floor.

“Aren’t you off today?” The lovely voice he could never forget swims past, as that sweet floral perfume radiates from Agnes’s neck, touching his senses. This is it—the fragrance he knows.

She adjusts an earring as she strolls past him, moving to the sink to rinse out a coffee mug that soaks inside the basin.

“Bo? Are you okay?” She tilts her head toward him as the foaming soap drips from her perfect fingers.

The perfume bottle is no longer in his hands, and he stares at his empty palms for a moment before glancing at Agnes.

“I’m perfect,” he says, smiling at her. She smiles back and continues her mug rinsing. There’s no way this is real, but he’ll pretend. Just for a little while.

The suit he wears is custom made, and pressed neatly for a day at the office. He remembers this day, and he remembers it too well. It’s not a good day, and heat rises from his collar.

“Bo? I said, aren’t you off today?” Agnes sets the coffee mug into the drying rack, tapping her wet fingers against the edge of the basin.

That’s right… He’s supposed to have the day off. But he remembers choosing to work extra for more credits for purposeless reasons. It’s all meaningless without her. No matter how many extra hours he puts, he still loses his job, and Agnes still takes that faulty train to Tearny.

He clears his throat and sees her watching him with those deep hazel eyes framed with long, black eyelashes. Her dark hair spills in coils over her shoulders, and her head remains tilted, waiting for him to say something.

“Yes. Yes I’m off today.”

Her skin glows. “Oh good, because I’m thinking of going to Tearny for a movie, and I hope you’ll come with me.”

She doesn’t expect an answer right away, turning from him to polish the counter.

The candy floral aroma encircles his head, and he takes a deep breath of it. It’s a reminder of where he is now and who he becomes; a beggar on the street, pathetic and alone. No living family to run to, no friends to confide in, and no loving woman to hide inside. Could he change it? He touches the edge of the counter. It feels real. Should he change it?

Under the darkness of his eyelids, an image of the news report is clear in his mind, complete with footage of a twisted train, blackened by fire and windows blown out. It was just a trip to Tearny. The helicopter thuds in rhythmic clips as the reporter zeroes in on the flaming engine.

Rina was right, he’s been transported to another time. And this time he wouldn’t squander this opportunity to try. To change.

He moves to her place at the counter, takes her hand, and presses her fingers to his lips. “I’d love to go to Tearny with you.”

She grins.

~END

1. New Upcoming Kickstarter

2. New book site shop link

3. Article / News

4. Eclectic Etymology: MICKLE

5. Short story link: A Misplaced Justice

6. Book Updates

   1. The Other Exiles new in store

7. Indie thriller novel

8. Podcast | Soap Site (retiring soon, see below)

Kickstarter Update

All Kickstarter orders have been shipped and (hopefully) arrived at their destinations! (there are 2 outstanding orders that I need your survey input. Please check your email). I’ve learned a lot doing this campaign, and I’d like to try it again - there are things I’ll do differently, and now that I understand a little more about the back end of the process, next time should go smoother.

With that said, I do have another Kickstarter on the horizon, with the planned launch happening early next year. I haven’t decided on stretch goals or anything yet, as I’m still pricing and building the page. But you can see the preview page by clicking on the banner to go there and follow!

Book Shop is Open!

My new shop on cliffcavebooks.com is officially live! If you’ve been trying to get away from Amazon, or any other big box name, you can get eBooks (and print books) direct from my shop! I’ll also make books available sooner, and I plan to eventually carry exclusive stuff there. Currently, you can get the Audun bookmark, I’ve added my soaps to the site, and there are a few extra copies of the limited edition Kickstarter cover if you missed out on the campaign. There’s more to come!

This is my first go at creating a shop where you can create an account and keep tabs on your stuff, etc. I’m using Cloudflare’s reCAPTCHA system to keep out the T-1000s. If you have any suggestions, feel free to use the “support” link in the footer!

📰 On Prescriptive Writing Advice

I’ve been working on an article about prescriptive writing advice and how sentiments of this sort has been ramping up in frequency lately, invading writing spaces. It’s a topic that has been nagging at me for a little while as I navigate the unsubscription process to a lot of these “advice” peddling channels. I’ve been hesitant to finish and post it because as much as I hate it, indie authors are built on a “brand,” and there are people that are hyper sensitive to anything negative, which could cause my “brand” to get cancelled.

If I decide to finish and post, I’ll link it in next month’s newsletter.

The thing I will say is: there’s a stereotype that goes something like; “If you can’t do [skill], then teach [skill].”

Ultimately, you will never find me telling anyone how to write.

📜 Eclectic Etymology (new section)

MICKLE

(adj., n.) Great, large; much, abundant; a great deal.

Mickle is a dialectal survival of Old English micel, mycel, which means "great, intense, big, long, much, many."

[Fun Fact: A “micelle” is a sphere made up of amphipathic (water AND oil loving) molecules with the fatty end tucked in the center and the water-loving end on the outside. It’s how soap works to clean dirt and oil! I know it’s not a mickle, but the Old English micel reminded me of that ha!]

The common Middle English form was muchel (as in, much, see that?). The phonetic development of the dialectal survival is obscure and might reflect Old Norse influence. Middle English had muchel-what (pron.) "many various things."

I challenge you to use the word “mickle” sometime this week!

🔖 Short Stories

1. A Misplaced Justice, a short story written for some Writing Battle competition, is a gothic horror story sent out last month, so if you haven’t checked it out yet, here’s the link:

2. I have 3 back-to-back competitions during this month through Writing Battle, NYC Midnight, and Not Quite Write. I think I’ve come to the conclusion that the Not Quite Write competition heavily favors Australian authors (which is fine I suppose, since they’re based in Australia), and I won’t be signing up for their lineup in the future.

Coming to Substack on the 21st of July: Should?

📖 Book Updates

Work In Progress Updates

• Infinity Hall: I’ve completed a few more short entries for Infinity Hall, and hope to get the novellas completed soon as well!

• Metaxysm: I’m now officially working on the SECOND expansion, “Investigator.” If you’ve read the book, you know the ending splits into 3 different timelines. Each of these timelines will get their own novella, and eventually will be a combined book for another future Kickstarter (beyond Infinity Hall).

The Other Exiles

The Other Exiles is a supplementary novella to the Northern Roseaarde series based around 2 different characters. If you backed the Kickstarter, you should have gotten your download link. Otherwise, it’s available on my website now, and preorder everywhere else for later this year.

As a forewarning, it’s important to read the original series to understand and get the full feeling from this novella. It’s also a little darker than the main series, dealing with subjects that are uncomfortable and expected within the circumstances of people living in a dystopian exile.

💲Extras and Deals

When Audra goes off to university by herself for the first time, she quickly realizes that nothing will ever be the same again… Only $2.99 for the E-Book!

🫧 LH Soaps & Sundries updates

VISIT THE SOAP PAGE HERE1 to check out the “final call” soaps and/or the scrub bars.

This site is set to be closed soon, as I have combined all soaps into the Cliff Cave Books web shop. It will be easier for me to track inventory and check any orders in one place!

🎧 Podcast

If you’re self-publishing yourself, or like English etymology, take trip to the podcast!

LINKTREE | YOUTUBE | BOOKS | RED BUBBLE
WRITING BATTLE DISCOUNT

Subscribe now

This short story was written for the Writing Battle Fear Pro challenge of 2025.

Rules: Create a 1000 word story in the genre, using the character and the object.

Trading the blade for the noose made for an easier duty, even if the act itself would haunt a man. Finn relished his early morning breakfast, gazing off into the hazy pre-dawn with the taste of salty pork sausage on his mouth. The job didn’t readily haunt this man.

He touched fingertips against the curled scar tissue that was once his left ear before lowering his hood. It was bad luck otherwise, so he repeated the movement twice for good measure.

Aisling Byrne was his charge—bright blue eyes, wavy hair the color of spring carrot, and a damn shame. The law claimed she strangled her ill mother after being driven into poverty at the Byrne patriarch’s death. Some said desperation made her do it. Others, a lover asked her to. Rumor was, she didn’t do it at all. For Finn? He wasn’t sure either way; needing the payout, but wanting forgiveness for his role that day.

Read more

I created a YouTube short discussing a superficial version of this topic a while ago, but I think it merits mentioning again (in long form).

There’s an interesting thing happening, at least with me, and I’m sure I can speak for several others as society navigates the hell that is this AI landscape. With each new iteration or “tool” that is shoved in our faces, and those who’ve been quick to use it as a get rich quick scheme, AI has had the opposite effect on me. I’ve been wanting to create MORE things with my own two hands.

In the Beginning…

When AI was just a baby idea, I think the widespread assumption would be that robots would take over the menial, day-to-day tasks that act as regular thorns in our sides. I’ll admit, I was a little oblivious to the movement of AI during its first crawl through our lives.

But I’d like to think I became aware of it back during its first phase when it created the monstrous “Will Smith eating spaghetti” video. I knew then that it was only a matter of time before James Cameron’s visions of our future under the boot of the T-1000 would come to pass.

In the Mainstream…

When AI first came out to the mainstream, I don’t think there was enough surprise in the fact that a good proportion of its use would be for generative, CREATIVE, purposes. However, I raised my brow when I saw this unfolding.

A lot of people who claim to be in creative spaces likened AI to being “just another tool,” like the typewriter, or a calculator, or whatever other banal comparison they chose to spout to help themselves sleep at night. “We’d better get on the train before we’re left behind,” or some such tripe. My gripe is the fact that this “tool” is a means to rob us of our God-given ability, and need, to create—something no tool has done in the past. There’s something vaguely evil about that, in my opinion.

Yes, I’ve used AI. I’ve used it to test out a few things, whether it be writing, generating music, generating art, or even using my own old art to “improve” on it. I’ve posted about this last year a couple times:

Since these are behind my paid tier, here’s a preview of one of the entries:

I thought it was fun at first, not minding whether AI trains on my work (it does). I’ve also created music with Suno, taking the raw WAV files and attempting to clean them up to be presentable, then posting playlists to YouTube. I still turn to these playlists for writing ambiance, but the songs are certainly flawed and in desperate need of human intervention.

I’ve attempted to have an LLM write something for me from scratch. I’m not talking about using it to analyze something I’ve already written, I’m talking about using it to create something out of an idea. It was so bad, riddled with all the marks of being a digital iteration attempting to sound human. Yet, when I told it to rewrite passages in the style of Stephen King, what came out was scary stuff… Not King scary, but stolen scary.

However…

If you’ve ever spent any time with generative AI, you’ll learn quickly that there is a “look” to it or a “read quality”, and it’s easy to spot. Just go to YouTube and find any video commentating about it. It rarely ever creates the idea in your head. The more the tech sphere tinkers with each model, the more improvements with each rollout, but the outcome remains the same: soulless incarnations of stolen material.

One of the main arguments I hear in writing and art communities regarding AI to make a quick buck is that, “I have so many ideas,” but not the range to implement them. I’m here to tell you a secret: EVERYONE HAS IDEAS. Everyone. You aren’t special for having an idea. What makes an idea become art is learning the skill to make it so.

I have another secret: you won’t learn all the skills to make all your ideas so. And that’s okay!

Figure out what brings you joy (and joyous pain). Foster that, make it yours. I love to write (and maybe I’m kinda okay at it), but I’m not great at art. I’ll probably always have to hire someone to create covers and internal art for my projects. It’s expensive (this is a whole other discussion that I might cover in another piece). Despite the cost, the one generative aspect of paying for an independent artist or designer to create my book covers is the generation of trust. The trust that the whole process is mine, and not a robot’s fever dream. It’s MY fever dream.

For me, I’ve played with the art generators, the text generators, and the music generators. Every time I do, it just spurs me to try it myself. I’ve failed a lot and found things I didn’t really like putting energy into. Of the things I find joy in, well; I taught myself interior book design, then I started learning digital art from the absolute SLEW of free tutorials (by real people) on YouTube, and also picked up my 30 year old guitar again about a year ago. (I’ve been plucking around and wrote a couple tunes for my fantasy series, while learning how to navigate a rather complex Digital Audio Workstation (DAW)). No, I don’t have children, in case you were wondering.

Writing is the magic thing that keeps me up after midnight, getting sometimes 2 hours of sleep. Writing is the thing that brings me joy. Everything else is secondary. If I don’t master guitar? I’m okay with that, and I won’t be running to Suno to generate my ideas. If I don’t master digital art? That’s okay too. I will still pay artists and/or designers to make my book covers. Maybe someday I’ll be paid to write.

I will leave this article to say something controversial: don’t generate something and call it art. If you didn’t spend the hours necessary to get even the slightest bit competent in your area of interest, then you aren’t an artist/writer/musician/whatever. Focus on what DOES make you an artist. Put in the work and wear the badge of trust.

If you’re a writer, putting in real human effort into your manuscript, don’t slap an AI cover on it. Please, I beg you.

FUTURE TOPIC: The reasons why we run to AI in the first place.

Anyway, that’s all. I personally feel like I’ve been exploding lately, wanting to create all the things, whether they turn out decent or not. Failure is a part of the process. Anyone with me?

If you’d like to start supporting creatives who’ve put their manic blood into their creations, consider following this anthology that I’ll be launching in January of 2027:

LINKTREE | YOUTUBE | BOOKS | RED BUBBLE
WRITING BATTLE DISCOUNT

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1. Kickstarter Update!

2. The next crowd funding project on the horizon

3. New private site shop link

4. Podcast and news

5. Short story link: Concerto Memento Mori

6. Book Updates

7. Free indie prequel

8. Discount indie book

9. Review copies of indie novels

10. Soap Site

I’ve ordered copies of the Northern Roseaarde Series Omnibus and they’re being printed. I’m hoping by July’s update, I’ll have already shipped them out to all the backers, and have been received by all!

If you missed out on the Kickstarter, I’ve listed a “regular” version of the omnibus (without the Kickstarter exclusive cover art), as well as the three separate books for preorder.

ALSO! I’m learning how to link a print on demand service to a shopping cart ON MY OWN WEBSITE! I’m so excited about this, because the printer I’m linking to is such better quality than Amazon, and I don’t have to carry inventory, which ultimately makes it cheaper to maintain.

Depending on how many extra copies of the limited edition cover I end up with, I will also list these for sale on my website.

If you want to check out what’s coming, here’s a private link! I’m new to this, so I don’t believe orders can be placed yet, since I still haven’t launched the site. Stay tuned! I’ll let you know when it’s live.

A NEW KICKSTARTER PROJECT

I’ve been getting a good feel for Kickstarter, and I’d like to give it another go for the next project. While the most recent one was fantasy, this one is going to be a compilation of short stories (some published here, some not) and a few unpublished novellas.

If you’re interested in the strange, follow the project! Again, it will be a while.

🎧 Podcast

I’ve loaded several shorts to the podcast page, so if you’re self-publishing yourself, or like English etymology, take trip to the podcast!

📰 Summer is for Reading

Honestly, it’s been a quiet May. There’s always the same buzzing discussions about AI and the creative industry, and frankly I’m a bit exhausted with it. I have opinions about it, and I don’t think people are clamoring for my opinions because it’s the same story that a lot of people in creative spaces have.

Other than that, there’s been a huge influx of graduation parties in our neighborhood. Cars decorated our streets and fireworks our skies (and their booms, our ears). It’s a sure signal that we’ll be seeing a lot more kids in the streets and parties all around. There’s nothing wrong with this of course.

You’d think more kids (and adults) would bask in the summer sun, drink in one hand, book in the other. But interestingly enough, summer book sales usually stall for most authors. I don’t really have an explanation for that other than maybe readers have books in their “to be read” (TBR) pile from Christmas, or birthdays, or sales, etc. that they’re finally getting to.

OR, perhaps people just aren’t reading as much anymore? There’s a lot of conversation surrounding literacy rates among younger generations that have given me pause. I may dig into this a little deeper, because I do think there’s something to this.

For now, I’ll just continue to write, hoping that future generations will find value in my stories.

🔖 Short Stories

1. Concerto Memento Mori, a short story written for the Writing Battle winter horror story challenge was sent out last month, so if you haven’t checked it out yet, here’s the link:
   

2. I turned in an entry to the Not Quite Write podcast a while ago, and while my story got a very minor shout out, it apparently was “too jarring” for the judge. I thought it was kinda tame, honestly.

3. Pogonophobia is the Fear of Beards got an Honorable Mention. I think that’s cool, but I was hoping it was clever enough to make it further. Oh well!

Coming to Substack on the 17th of June: A Misplaced Justice.

📖 Book Updates

Work In Progress Updates

I’m currently mapping out two stand-alone prequels for the Northern Roseaarde series—one is going to be around the fall of the East, and the other will be a backstory. I won’t say the back story for whom, because if you haven’t read the series yet, it might spoil things 🫠

I’ve mentioned before I’m also working on some expansions to Metaxsym, and I’m really excited to get these finished.

Subcutaneous Updates

I just checked on my remaining queries, and it’s still crickets. At this rate, I’m thinking Subcutaneous will be a self release. I have tentatively scheduled release for September 30th this year, in time for October!

💲Extras and Freebies

For the telekinetic youth of New Teotihuacan's Worker City there are two choices: an enslaved life or a free death. By sixteen, everyone must choose.

Free for signing up for David Mark Brown’s newsletter!

Blackvale Manor rises at the edge of civilization, home to an order of vampires that has hidden in plain sight for centuries.

Only $1.99 for the E-Book!

☝️☝️Interested in checking out books as a prestigious reviewer? Check out some of these free books to sign up!

🫧 LH Soaps & Sundries updates

VISIT THE SOAP PAGE HERE1 to check out the “final call” soaps and/or the scrub bars.

These will also be listed on the Cliff Cave Books website very soon.

LINKTREE | YOUTUBE | BOOKS | RED BUBBLE
WRITING BATTLE DISCOUNT

Subscribe now

This short story was written for the Writing Battle Autumn challenge of 2025.

Rules: Create up to a 2000 word story in the genre, using the character and the place.

The stone cannot get any whiter, yet the moonlight catches all imperfections. One such imperfection blots out the light; I rub it away with the Bissell laser shot.

It has been on my mind for a while as to why they maintain such an old structure when a perfectly good telescoping scaffold with living nano plates would erect a much stronger (and maintenance-free) stadium. I suppose ancient structures were ideal for carrying sound. Now, I hear the music thumping inside, with the screams and delights of strangers. There’s no insulation in this stone whatsoever. But who am I to suggest an entire rebuild? Hell, thinking such a thing is crazy. No… suicidal.

The scanner on my temple is warm while it extracts data for the Sovereign. I try not to curse, but thoughts are chaotic, and the thought is now the property of the Division. There’s nothing I can do but continue to clean.

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1. Kickstarter Update!

2. Podcast and news

3. AI and the Creative Boom (and a guitar clip!)

4. Short story link: Last Light on a White Night

5. Book Updates

6. New hobby…

Read more

This short story was written for the NYC Midnight short story challenge of 2025.

Rules: Create a 400 word story with the scare, using the character and the action.

Morning comes and Dorian wakes with the urge to draw. These dreams have been getting increasingly intrusive, yet he can’t escape the nagging feeling of the truth within them.

Dorian doodles on a scrap of receipt from the day before on his nightstand. The image forms to the best of his memory, each stroke of the pen bringing the surreal cloud into greater focus.

The moon.

A spatter of ink sprays from the last stroke. Picking up the receipt closer to see the lines cast through the yellow lamp glow, he pauses—a notification chirps, requesting he report to the abandoned quarry.

Flashes of dream come in pieces when Dorian surveys the scene. Other reporters arrive, but only he has seen this before.

“That was no bear,” a colleague utters nearby.

Dorian kneels next to the body, jotting notes on his tablet, near a scan of his doodle of the moon. “Bears don’t typically remove heads,” he says.

Nearly a month passes after Dorian’s flimsy report of a “bear attack” at the old quarry.

Lies.

Each dream becomes increasingly foreboding, dripping in scarlet, and framed in the glow of night. A grim prophecy. He wants the truth… he needs the truth. If his instinct is right, catalogued evidence of cryptid activity would etch Dorian’s name in history.

Any reporter worth his salt would put boots on the ground.

Nightfall comes and Dorian’s boots scratch over loose rock in the quarry’s lot. The full moon looms overhead, bathing the site in shades of blue. A can of bear mace is clipped to his belt, just in case his dreams had steered him wrong.

In the quiet, every small sound thumps his nerves like a jackhammer, and his hand hovers over the can of mace. A low growl ululates in the tree line, and the can’s cold steel presses against his palm.

The trees bend, birthing the thing that found him: a creature in a bone mask. Thin, pallid flesh slides over gangly limbs as it crawls forward, dressed in motley fur patches. It stands on sinewy haunches, seven feet… no, eight. Dorian swipes the mace.

“Definitely no bear.” A man points at Dorian’s loose head among white stone dust. Red wires leak from the neck stump, and a mace can foams near the body.

“Did you know him?” a woman asks.

“Yeah. Reporter for Black River Times.”

~END

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8. Free indie short story (thriller)

9. Kindle Unlimited picks for April/May

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The day has come and the campaign is officially live!

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This short story was written for the Not Quite Write challenge of 2025.

It is daytime. The proprietor, Yesi, greets me before coffee, and I watch from the corner as my battery charges. I am a BOOT: a Bionic Of Ortholog Technology, and I belong to Yesi. I do not know how old I am, nor do I know what I look like. Such things are not in a BOOT’s programming, despite our code’s descendant from man, and man’s penchant toward pride.

I like to watch my human, as Yesi is an agreeable sort. For now, she sits with her coffee, newly saddened by some pictures on the television. Marko enters the room, retrieving a coffee for travel. His dress is formal, and he pauses for a moment behind Yesi before kissing her goodbye for the day. Every day, while Marko is away, I am Yesi’s helper. That is my role as the household BOOT. Yesi cries again.

“Why do you cry, Yesi?” I ask from my charge port.

My question startles her, and she wipes away the tears. I do not understand the laugh she utters. “I miss Marko,” she says to me.

“Marko was just here,” I tell her.

She smiles at me and nods at the television. “I know. I miss who he was.”

“Do you require my assistance?”

“No, I’m fine…” she turns away from me but she repeats herself. “I’m fine.”

I recognize the pictures on the television. It is a video of Yesi and Marko and they tell each other in turn, the words: I do. They still wear the metal on their fingers, and I understand it is meant to show their love. I do not understand love, but I do understand love sometimes makes the humans say and do strange things.

Yesi still cries, and my programming wants to help. Unfortunately, I am affixed to the charge port for another twenty-seven minutes. Without a prompt, Yesi comes to my corner and confides in me.

For twenty-seven minutes she tells me the story of their love.

They met in college. Marko played with a local band for fun (I do not understand fun), and Yesi saw his band. He wore grungy clothes then, nothing like the pressed suits he wears now. She says it was instant love, and I am intrigued by this notion. They spoke of desires and dreams, hopes for the future… their early years were carefree, artistic, and unknown.

But something changed in Marko. Now, he is gone often, sometimes for several days. He desires more. More praise at work, more numbers in the bank account, more time spent in his suit… It is Man’s innate pride programming. And Yesi? She is alone with the fruits of the account, to watch the television and dream of past Marko. She languishes alone, surrounded by materiality.

I am not warm or soft, nor do I weep or deliver goodbye kisses, yet now I understand. I am glad pride is culled from my program. I am here for Yesi always. I am her BOOT.

~END

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First picking up traction in the early 1800s, it was adopted by traveling freak shows to name a “wild man” who would do some unsavory things for attention and spectacle (much like our “favorite” nuisance TikTokers today).

However, in the 1970s, the term began to morph into something that would refer to person who is weak, or prefers academic pursuits (hey, that’s not such a bad thing!).

Anthony Michael Hall’s character in the early 1980s comedy, Sixteen Candles is credited as “The Geek,” and it’s contemporary meaning exploded from there.

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As I always say, it’s not imperative to know all history of every word you use in your fantasy novel, but do understand where they came from and why it’s important. (I am not innocent, by the way).

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Sinister!

Now frequently interchangeable with hypnotize, it’s technically not the same theory presented by Mesmer. Additionally, hypnosis as a practice was originally coined in 1849 by Dr. James Braid as “braidism.”

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1. KICKSTARTER

2. Podcast and news

3. I don’t understand social media

4. Short story link: Wayward Captain

5. Writing Battle discount link

6. Book Updates

7. Free Lovecraftian indie story

8. Kindle Unlimited picks for March

9. Soap Site1

In case you missed the extra post, you can get to the Kickstarter by clicking here or the banner to go follow the project!

Also, as a special for subscribers, I’m going to mark down the price of every tier by around 20%, just for you all. WHEN THAT HAPPENS, I’ll be sure to share the secret links with you. The special price can only be found through the secret links.

🎧 Podcast

I’ve loaded several shorts to the podcast page, so if you’re self-publishing yourself, or like English etymology, take trip to the podcast!

📰 News & Ramblings

I really, really don’t understand social media.

I’ve been on social based sites for years. I had an ID for ICQ (shoutout if you remember), I had a couple MySpace pages, and signed up for Facebook when it was available through school email addresses only. I joined Instagram, YouTube, Snapchat, Threads, Twitter (X), and even TikTok. Yet, the platforms I chose to nourish were YouTube and Instagram.

I started YouTube in 2017 with soap making tutorials and art ramblings. I started it for fun, but also never really knew how to massage the algorithm to get more eyeballs on my videos. When people did look, it rarely every converted to subscribers, no matter how many tips I followed from other YouTube “gurus.” I hashtag and use category tags; I optimize my titles and try to make my thumbnails stand out. I’m not conventionally pretty, so I don’t like to use my face, but most of the time, those are the thumbnails people respond to (except for mine because of the ugly).

Nine years later, I’ve got 633 subs on Youtube, which is great—but not the instant success story you may see grifters peddling on the same site. I still can’t even monetize my channel. That’s not really the point of why I do it, but I’ll admit, it would be nice to get paid for educational content.

I don’t know how I got these subscribers, but I’m happy they’re here. They may not even be real, let’s be frank. With all the shifting algorithm rules, and lighting fast trend flips, I’ve always just strived to be myself and offer something educational on my platforms. I hate selling myself, despite some of the more recent posts you’ve seen. I love to talk about my stories, not convince you to buy them.

At any rate, people aren’t looking for tips, facts, or lessons. They’re looking for drama and rage bait.

As a self-published author, I’ve literally heard from an agent’s mouth that if you have a decent following on social media, you’re more likely to be picked up. How can I possibly gain a following if I fail to see the point in cruel gossip or the utility in cleaning snow with a gallon of Mister Bubble and AJAX (this actually exists)? How can I entice people to follow any sort of educational content when they’re looking for the grossly lavish lives of sickeningly wealthy influencers and their designer hauls, or attractive women getting on their hands and knees to lick a toilet seat? How can I encourage anyone to choose my book—the one I pored over for literal decades—when the average social media reader is looking for the next Morning Glory Milking Farm (look it up. but do it in a private browser)?

My point is, I don’t understand social media. I post, and get very few views. My YouTube shorts do well enough, but long form content and Instagram posts get crickets. But then again, I’m not letting loose a fart that sounds eerily similar to Chris Isaak’s Wicked Game (okay, it’s funny).

I’m having a moment here, I’ll be honest. I’ve worked my tail off, juggling a 9-5, writing, and trying to be everything I’m supposed to be as a self-published author. I haven’t taken a legitimate break since August of 2023. I’ll fully admit, I feel a twinge of irritation when I see a Substack post that says something banal like, “guys, I’m crying. I just typed THE END,” get thousands of likes, comments, and restacks, when I can post a full story and have zero reads. It’s about as irritating as seeing an agent pick up a Dramoine fanfic, publish it, and be taken seriously.

I am here now, in this cold space where I just don’t understand social media. Can you educate me?

🔖 Short Stories

1. Wayward Captain, a rhyming short story from last year’s NY City Midnight challenge was sent out last month, so if you haven’t checked it out yet, here’s the link:
   

2. Should?, my short story for the Writing Battle pro judged competition made it to the final 16! I was incredibly surprised because I consistently don’t go anywhere in battles.
   
   If you’re interested in Writing Battle and would like to try your hand at competing, I have a code you can use for $5 off submission.
   JUST FOLLOW THIS LINK to take you there. While I don’t usually win, I love doing this to really stretch my creative writing muscle in ways I would never have thought.

Coming to Substack on the 18th of March: I Understand

📖 Book Updates

The Northern Roseaarde Series Omnibus

I ordered physical copies of the fully upgraded version of the book, and it is really amazing! I had to adjust only a few minor things, as well as fix a couple typos I found, but other than that, once the project is done, I’ll be able to place the order!

That means this is probably going to be one of the quickest Kickstarters on the platform. The printer I’m using is in the UK, so for any backers in the UK or in the European Union, I will have the book shipped straight to you from the printer. That means, I won’t be able to sign them.

I’m doing that to save on shipping though, so it helps us both really!

Anyway, if you haven’t gotten sick of me asking, FOLLOW THE PROJECT HERE 😊

SUBCUTANEOUS Updates

Subcutaneous has made its way back to me from the editor, and now I’m doing all my final walkthroughs, and possibly some additions to the manuscript. As it stands, it’s pretty short at 62,500 words (roughly 260 pages). I haven’t decided yet, but the query rejections keep rolling in, so once I make the decision of whether or not to add to it, I should be releasing it soon - in time for Halloween! 🎃

🫧 LH Soaps & Sundries updates

VISIT THE SOAP PAGE HERE to check out the “final call” soaps and/or the scrub bars.

I also have some first edition paperback copies of Metaxysm and Hillbilly Vamp listed on my soap site if you’d like to CHECK THOSE OUT HERE.

Anyway, that’s all for now, thanks for being awesome!

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Vlad II is notorious for being unnecessarily brutal with a lust for bloodshed (hence the fictional character), however, what most people don’t understand, is that his people were constantly under vicious attack by the Turks, whose cruelty knew no bounds.

I’m really interested in knowing more about Vlad II of Wallachia.

I love Eymonline.com ❤️

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Word is quirky, but it can be finessed to create an interior layout that you need. I recommend:

1. Windows: Atticus

2. Mac: Vellum

3. Either: Adobe InDesign

As a Windows user, I use a combination of both Atticus (for ebooks) and InDesign (for print).

In fact, my upcoming Kickstarter can show you how versatile using Adobe InDesign for print can be! Follow the project here!

You want to do some research on what’s popular in your genre, so there’s no question what your story is about.

I have an upcoming fantasy omnibus Kickstarter that you can FOLLOW HERE!