Dragons and Dreams

By WP aD, Daniel E. Tanzo, Diana Garcia and 11 more

Magic, myth and alien worlds come together in this collection of short stories from Writers, Poets and Deviants.

~ A young witch and her talking dog must rid their home of unwelcome guests.
~ A pair of newsmen travel to Alaska to hear an astonishing tale of an encounter with an extinct creature.
~ A boy searches for the Edge of the World, uncovering the mystery of his grandfather's disappearance in the process.
~ A troll hunter makes a startling discovery about his prey.
~ Dragons on an alien planet find friendship in an old man, but not all humans share his sentiments when it comes to the giant winged reptiles.
~ A lonely shapeshifter is the sole survivor of an Aztec king's attempt at genocide of her race.
~ A pair of inter-dimensional explorers discover a new world and face a horrifying beast.

Enjoy these stories and many more, in this exciting fantasy collection from the versatile and imaginative authors of WPaD.

This is a charity anthology. A percentage of royalties will be donated to MS research in support of members of our group who live with Multiple Sclerosis.

This ebook is DRM-free - can be read on non-Kindle devices.

The Authors of Dragons and Dreams:

Daniel E. Tanzo
Diana Garcia
David W. Stone
Marla Todd
Mandy White
J. Harrison Kemp
A.K. Wallace
Robert Betz
Michael Haberfelner
David Hunter
Jade M. Phillips
S.E. Springle
Anand Matthew

We are Writers, Poets and Deviants!

• Language: English
• Publisher: WPaD Publications
• Release date: Jun 13, 2013
• ISBN: 9781497777231

Book preview

Dragons and Dreams

A Fantasy Anthology

By WPaD

(Writers, Poets and Deviants)

Copyright © 2013 WPaD Publications

and all authors named in this book.

All Rights Reserved

All stories and poetry in this book remain the property of their respective authors. No individual or agency other than those named may reproduce, copy or publish any part of this book in full or in part, in any medium printed or digital, without the expressed permission of the owner(s) of those works.

Thanks to David Hunter for providing the title for this book.

––––––––

Table of Contents

~ Dedication

~> If You Really Want to Know ~ Poetry by Daniel E. Tanzo

~> Magical Dark ~ Poetry by A.K. Wallace

1 ~ Keep Close my Yellow Dog by Mandy White

2 ~ Many-Moon Saw a Dragon by David Hunter

~> Untitled Poetry by Daniel E. Tanzo

3 ~ A Penny for Your Thoughts by Michael Haberfelner

~> Nymphology ~ Poetry by A.K. Wallace

4 ~ Myth in the Mist by Robert Betz

5 ~ Johnny Brimble and the Edge of the World by Jade M. Phillips

6 ~ Dragon Brow by David W. Stone

7 ~ Morning at the Vineyard by Marla Todd

~> Sacrifice ~ Poetry by Diana Garcia

8 ~ The Witch, the Shapeshifter and the Warrior:  – An Aztec Legend by Diana Garcia

~> Untitled Poetry by Daniel E. Tanzo

9 ~ When You Grow Old by Marla Todd

10 ~ The Curse of Grimmsmarchen Manor – From the Further Adventures of Ruff and Honours by J. Harrison Kemp

~> Universal Connection ~ Poetry by Diana Garcia

11 ~ Last Visit by S.E. Springle

12 ~ Sitnalta by Mandy White

13 ~ Dreams in Atlantis by Anand Matthew

~> An Uncharted Isle ~ Poetry by Daniel E. Tanzo

14 ~ First Sight by Marla Todd

~> Seeded Souls ~ Poetry by Daniel E. Tanzo

15 ~ Skin Deep by Mandy White

Books by WPaD

~> The Authors of Dragons and Dreams

Dedication

This book is dedicated to Daniel E. Tanzo

He is so many things to us:

Our Grizzly Bear,

Our strength.

The one who reminds us that it’s ok to be who we are.

Daniel is one who, through his poetry, makes magic with words,

adding a richness and sensuality with fierce passion, hunger and desire.

Most of all, he is missed.

He is currently fighting the toughest battle of his life – cancer.

And we are all there with him, in heart and soul.

We love you Dan!

The original Wolf Pack

AAARRROOOooo!!!!

If You Really Want to Know

By Daniel E. Tanzo:

Poetry is the gauntlet of the human existence,

from agony to ecstasy, mundane,

profane and sacred.

From Christ on the cross

to Dionysian orgiastic debauchery

with nymphs who rend his flesh,

to the cry of a newborn babe,

reaching in and attaching itself to your soul

Poetry is life squared,

brought to existence,

through an oft times inadequate medium.

So we try to connect soul to soul,

with the ink from our veins.

Copyright © Daniel E Tanzo

Magical Dark

By A.K. Wallace

In the darkest hours, long before dawn

I wake to the cacophony of nature's symphony

The beautiful birds' serenade and wisest owls' calls

The hungry wolves howl as their doomed prey hides

The steady crickets' song carried by the sweet breeze

The full moon's reflection revealing what is hidden

For daylight may diminish the growing shadows

But night is where ancient magic lies

I take my cup of tea to the porch

Where there are always guests waiting

Each lonely one with a modest request

And very eager to pay a handsome price

A love potion here and a curse there

A healing balm for him, a lucky talisman is hers

Can you help me to bear a child?

Will you mark those who've done me wrong?

All so simple, but the price to bear

Lies equally in their hearts as in any gold laden purse

Families of wee folk presenting their precious wares

While the mighty Faye are flitting to and fro

Milky unicorns grazing in the meadow

And majestic Pegasus soaring in the starry sky

Fierce dragons bellow in the distance

Causing mighty trolls to cower in fear

Thus is life of those who dwell behind the veil

Between dusk and morning's first light

Copyright © 2013 A.K. Wallace

Keep Close My Yellow Dog

By Mandy White

Reginald trembled.

What’s wrong, Reg? I asked.

I’m not entirely sure... he began, then vomited his recently-eaten dinner onto the floor. Oh my... I’m terribly sorry, he apologized. I don’t know what came over me. Here, I’ll clean it up. He started lapping the puke up off the floor.

Gross! Reg – NO! I cried, running to grab some paper towels.

Reginald had a brilliant mind, and a witch couldn’t ask for a better familiar than the little yellow dog, who had once been a powerful wizard and lord of the manor in which we currently resided. But alas, his canine nature still took over sometimes.

After cleaning up what remained of Reggie’s mess, we turned our attention back to the issue at hand.

The angry woman upstairs hadn’t slowed one bit since her very unwelcome arrival. I could hear the sounds of her tantrum as she raged overhead, her footsteps thundering from room to room on the main floor of the house. Dishes rattled on the shelves as she slammed cupboard doors in her frenzied search for whatever it was she was looking for. The ceiling over my head muted her furious mutterings so that I could only hear snippets of what she was saying but the message was clear. She was displeased with every single thing she laid eyes on, especially me. My very presence in the house infuriated her. Each time she neared the stairwell that led downstairs to my quarters, where Reginald and I had been hiding since her arrival, something kindled her rage anew and set off another slamming, screaming tantrum.

The fact that she had arrived at all meant my banishing spell had been ineffective. This puzzled Reggie, since banishing was one of his specialties and he had helped me cast the spell. He had been feeling ill since her arrival and I knew it had to be connected somehow. We were beginning to suspect that the spell might have been turned back on us. Her energy was apparently toxic to Reggie but didn’t seem to have any adverse effects on me. I noticed however, that my energy didn’t appear to be doing her much good. I wasn’t sure why, but something about me seemed to repel her, which suited me fine because it kept her at bay, upstairs and away from our quarters. A temporary solution, but not ideal by any means.

If a banishing spell didn’t work on her, then what? A binding? Or...

Reginald glanced up at me from beneath the fringe of golden fluff that served as eyebrows, his chestnut eyes filled with the sadness that accompanies generations of wisdom. He shook his furry head slowly.

Damn that dog! He licked his nuts purely for entertainment and thought nothing of eating his own barf, yet he always seemed to know what I was thinking.

Miranda, no, he said. First of all, you know the consequences of manipulating the dark forces. And second, it won’t work. Hexes only work on mortal beings.

What are you saying, Reg? I asked, even though I already knew what the little yellow dog was getting at. I just wanted to hear it from him.

She’s not human.

Then what is she? Reggie’s theory made sense. It explained why our fail-safe banishing spell had failed in this instance. The spell only worked on humans and, to a lesser degree, on animals.

I’m nmff nmfff mrtnfffnff, Reginald said.

Would you please look at me when you’re talking to me? I scolded.

Sorry, the dog said, pulling his nose from where it had been momentarily buried in his not-so-private parts. At first, he continued, licking his lips, I suspected she might be a succubus because of her humanoid façade. But now I know that’s not the case. A lower entity like a succubus would not have any effect on my powers. We are dealing with something far worse. And yes, you are correct. She wants you dead.

I rubbed my arms to quell the gooseflesh that had risen – a sure sign that my familiar was speaking the truth. There was no doubt she wanted me dead; I’d suspected that from the beginning but up until that moment I’d felt confident, cocky even, that I could handle the likes of her.

She was the estranged stepdaughter of Harold, my former master. Harold was a kindly old wizard who had employed my mother before me and her mother before her, as domestic servants and apprentices. It might seem strange to an outsider that I would choose a life of servitude in these modern times, but it was the tradition of my family and the wizard was kind and fair. He had taken me under his wing at an early age and mentored me in the magickal arts, having apparently seen the same potential in me that he had known in my mother and grandmother. Harold had been my guardian since I was ten years old, after my mother was killed in an auto accident. Harold owned the ancient mansion and its expansive grounds, which had been passed down through his family for generations since Reginald’s time. In keeping with tradition, Harold’s next of kin was to inherit his home and all of his possessions after his death.

Wherein lay the problem – Harold had no children related to him by blood and he had outlived all of his other relations, having died at the age of 125. He did, however, have two stepdaughters by his late wife Esmerelda, who, according to Harold, was a sweet and loving woman until after their wedding. As soon as the honeymoon was over, she made an instant transformation into an evil, screeching battleaxe just like the one who now raged overhead.

The stepdaughters, who had not visited Harold even once since their mother’s death, intended to walk in and take over executorship of the estate because they were ‘related’ to the old wizard by marriage. The moment he died, the man who had meant nothing to them suddenly became ‘dear old Dad’. They became the grieving ‘daughters’, sucking up condolences from Harold’s acquaintances like the bloodthirsty leeches that they were. Reginald and I were left to grieve for our beloved mentor in private.

The stepdaughters strongly objected to the terms of the simple Will Harold had left. He had made provisions for me and all of my descendants in his Will, stating that we would always have a home and place of employment in the manor for as long as it remained standing or our family line died out, whichever came first. Until that time, the house was not to be sold, rented or renovated. Erin, the screaming stepdaughter, could not evict me nor could she sell the house as long as I, or one of my offspring, (of which I had none) were alive. Which was why she wanted me dead.

For the first time since I had accidentally conjured a shit-demon from the sewers of Hell, I felt genuine fear. The wizard had taught me that fear would defeat me faster than even the most formidable of foes and had spent years conditioning me to be fearless. I had heeded his teachings carefully and in my bravado my power grew.

With Reginald as an ally there was no spell I could not cast, no charm I could not repel and no mistake I could not undo. He was an ancient soul and a very powerful wizard in his own right. I had no idea how old the little dog was, but Reggie had been with me for as long as I could remember. Formerly known as Lord Reginald, he was the original owner of the manor and of course, one of Harold’s ancestors. The estate had been passed down through the generations from one descendant to another but the bloodline ended with the old man. Harold’s first wife had died without bearing him any children. His second wife died soon after the wedding, leaving behind the two greedy stepdaughters who were now trying to lay claim to the estate. The real father of the two girls was a mysterious dark wizard from somewhere in Europe, where the older sister currently resided.

Now Erin had returned, claiming to be the one chosen as executor of her father’s estate. She had commandeered the entire upper section of the house, leaving Reg and I banished to our downstairs quarters. She was livid about something. I could hear bits and pieces of her mutterings as she stormed around and slammed doors, apparently still searching for something. She ranted about being attacked and something about the chosen one and absolute power.

I didn’t know what any of it meant, but I had a feeling that if she found what she was looking for it would mean trouble for Reggie and me. All I knew for certain was that she was dangerous and we would have to be on guard at all times. I had already suggested to him the possibility of us leaving but he refused. This had been his home since he had staked his claim on the land and built the home back in 1672. No psychotic demon bitch was going to drive him out of it.

The problem was, how did we get rid of her?

* * *

The second stepdaughter, Maria, arrived the following week. She appeared to be the polar opposite of her sister –articulate and soft-spoken with a British accent that made her sound cultured and snobbish. She seemed quite reasonable but it was all just a façade, which I saw through immediately. Her invitation to come upstairs and join her for tea appeared to be a friendly gesture but I was immediately on guard. I wasn’t stupid. She didn’t want my friendship any more than I wanted her and her screeching shrew of a sister in my home.

I wasn’t about to eat or drink anything offered by those two vipers, so I concocted a little invisibility potion with Reggie’s help. I dropped my teaspoon on the floor and politely asked Maria for another one. While she was gone I dripped the potion over my tea and scone, making it appear as if I had consumed them.

When she noticed my empty teacup and plate, she offered more but I declined, then the interrogation began. I suspected the refreshments she had tried to trick me into consuming probably contained a potion or spell designed to act as truth serum.

She was a master manipulator but I played along with her little game, curious as to what information she was trying to extract from me. She asked me about myself and about my family – did I have any siblings, cousins, uncles or aunts? I guardedly explained that I was an only child and the last of my family since my mother’s death.

And what about my father? she inquired. Did dear Harold ever mention any cousins or nephews I might not have known about?

Her referral to Harold as her ‘father’ pissed me off because she was no relation to him whatsoever. I knew Reg was listening quietly from the staircase.

No, I replied coolly, Your STEP father did not mention any other relatives other than those you would already know about. Can I ask why you would want to know? I wanted to slap the fake smile off of her duplicitous face.

No reason, dahling, she crooned. I just want to ensure that all parties get their share of any inheritance they may be entitled to.

If I understand correctly, I said, Harold’s Will was quite clear and simple. I don’t see what you would find confusing about it.

She reached over and patted my hand in a condescending manner that made me want to conjure another shit-demon just for her. No need to fret, my dear. It’s just a lot of complicated legal jargon that I wouldn’t expect you to understand.

What the hell did she think I was, the village idiot?

I’m sure I understand just fine, I replied.

Sure you do, dahling. Sure you do, she purred. There is, however, one wee issue that may need to be addressed, and that is the quality of care my father was receiving prior to his death. Erin and I have reason to believe that there was a certain level of neglect that may have contributed to his untimely demise. You understand, of course, that we will need to have our attorney look into this.

What exactly are you implying? I snapped. That I caused his death due to neglect? First of all, the man was 125 years old, which is admirable even considering the fact that he was a wizard. Secondly, how the hell do either of you think you can know anything about what went on here, since neither one of you bothered to visit him even once? I’m SURE the level of care he was receiving was TOP priority for both of you!

I couldn’t stand being in her presence a moment longer. I stood to leave.

Thank you for the lovely cup of tea, I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm, but I really must get back to work. I have a million things to do.

Yes, yes, she sighed, I’m sure you are quite the busy little lass. She waved her hand at me as if swatting away a fly. Off you go, then.

I fumed as I made my way back downstairs. How dare she dismiss me like a common household servant in my own home? Frankly, I preferred the screaming banshee to this one. At least the banshee spoke her mind. I furiously swept my fingernails across the stone wall of the stairwell, sending a spray of blue and green sparks in my wake.