I've got a special treat for everyone this week! But first, the chibis have returned! How awesome is that?
First, I was interviewed by Jaxo Roberts over at the "So You Want to Write a Webcomic" blog about writing webcomics, appropriately enough.
Meanwhile, one of my RPG publishers, Fat Goblin Games, was kind enough to give Mysteries of the Arcana a spotlight. I'm writing a Pathfinder-compatible book on rope for them - it'll cover almost everything an adventurer could want to do with a rope in Pathfinder. Almost. Get your mind out of the gutter...
And now for the treat! A few weeks ago I wrote a drabble for the kind backers of the Mysteries of the Arcana Patreon campaign. This short story is canon and takes place between chapters 5 and 6. If you're interested, backers of the Patreon campaign who pledge $3 or more a month get irregular updates that include stories like this one. So far I've posted two and plan to post more in the future.
“¡Mierda!” Theresa swore.
Something had tapped her foot, startling her and causing her to bang her head into the Beast's drive-shaft. Theresa pushed, rolling the creeper she was laying on out from under the truck. She expected to see a blonde. Instead, her visitor had purple hair.
Mandrake, the faerie, was fluttering about two feet off the concrete garage floor, somehow projecting innocence despite being dressed in cast-offs from the Monster High doll line.
“What do you want?” Theresa sat up, rubbing at her forehead.
Images swirled into existence above Mandrake's head. First, an image of a roasted turkey and then a clock and, finally, an exclamation point.
“Dinner's ready. Fine. I'll be right there.” Theresa struggled up to her feet, using the Beast's front bumper for leverage.
That was all the work she'd get done on the damn thing tonight. After dinner there would be storytelling with Melody or chess with the professor or, maybe, a movie with Chrys.
The last idea brought a blush to Theresa's cheeks. As if the faerie could read her mind, Mandrake smiled knowingly. Theresa flapped her grease-covered hands at the flying annoyance.
“Get!” Theresa growled. “Go!”
Images of little silver bells, Mandrake's laughter, followed the faerie all the way back to the Inn.