Transcendence

By Danielle Ackley-McPhail and Jennifer Brozek

What Will You Discover Between the Darkness and the Light?

When the mortal coil wears thin and the great unknown draws nigh you might spy the narrow gap between the mystical and the mundane. You might even notice something’s looking back.

Transcendence takes a hard look at humanity in nine tales of difficult choices, g

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paper Phoenix Press
• Release date: Jul 31, 2017
• ISBN: 9781942990642

Danielle Ackley-McPhail

Award-winning author, editor, and publisher Danielle Ackley-McPhail has worked both sides of the publishing industry for longer than she cares to admit. In 2014 she joined forces with Mike McPhail and Greg Schauer to form eSpec Books. Her published works include eight novels, Yesterday's Dreams, Tomorrow's Memories, Today's Promise, The Halfling's Court, The Redcaps' Queen, Daire's Devils, The Play of Light, and Baba Ali and the Clockwork Djinn, written with Day Al-Mohamed. She is also the author of the solo collections Eternal Wanderings, A Legacy of Stars, Consigned to the Sea, Flash in the Can, Transcendence, The Kindly Ones, Dawns a New Day, The Fox's Fire, Between Darkness and Light, Echoes of the Divine, and the non-fiction writers' guides The Literary Handyman, More Tips from the Handyman, and LH: Build-A-Book Workshop. She is the senior editor of the Bad-Ass Faeries anthology series, No Longer Dreams, Heroes of the Realm, Clockwork Chaos, Gaslight & Grimm, Grimm Machinations, A Cast of Crows, A Cry of Hounds, Other Aether, The Chaos Clock, Grease Monkeys, Side of Good/Side of Evil, After Punk, and Footprints in the Stars. Her short stories are included in numerous other anthologies and collections. She is a full member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association.In addition to her literary acclaim, she crafts and sells original costume horns under the moniker The Hornie Lady Custom Costume Horns, and homemade flavor-infused candied ginger under the brand of Ginger KICK! at literary conventions, on commission, and wholesale.Danielle lives in New Jersey with husband and fellow writer, Mike McPhail and four extremely spoiled cats.

Book preview

Introduction

When introducing a collection of short stories, I’m not one to give the reader a preview of each story. They already have their introductions—well-expressed ones at that. Instead, I like to think about the collection as a whole. Danielle’s collection, Transcendence, is perfectly named for the stories and poems within.

To transcend. To go beyond the range of normal or merely human experience.

All authors attempt to tell stories to the reader about something bigger than themselves; to share parts of themselves or to impart knowledge or wisdom or experiences. Even the authors who only wish to entertain. There is the need to affect the reader, to touch them in some way.

To transcend. Surpassing the ordinary.

Even when the stories are steeped in mundane trivialities, authors try to bring a new point of view, a new perspective to the ordinary, and to make it extraordinary. Stories are all about going beyond what is and rush forward into what could be. No matter how impossible that might seem. In and of themselves, stories transcend reality by being exactly what they are.

Danielle’s collection embodies these two concepts. Each story sets the reality for that world, then has the characters—protagonists and antagonists alike—surpass what is there. Or, to be given the chance to transcend their roles, only for them to deny the opportunity. Even when I, a reader, was shouting at them to do something else.

These stories touched me. They made me think. And, as an author, they inspired me. I can think of no better compliment to give another author. These stories are so good that they make me want to write and to share as well.

I have my favorites, of course. If I Had the Chance made me put down the collection so I could think about what I had just read and to think about what I would do if I were also in that position. The poem Luna made me smile and to go look at the night sky. Stoli and Solitude made me ponder my marriage as I approach seven years with my beloved husband.

The point is, Transcendence is a collection of stories that will affect you. How? I don’t know. You and I are different people and different readers. The only thing I am sure of is that you will enjoy this collection and it will touch you. Some of the stories may make you think. Some may make you angry. Some may make you smile. All of them will entertain.

In the end, what more can you ask for in a short story collection?

—Jennifer Brozek

author of BattleTech: The Nexus Affair

On Skippy

Full disclosure—for a horror writer, I’m a huge chicken. I don’t do scary movies, I don’t do haunted houses, and there’s no way in HELL I go into a mirror maze. So this story about what happens when a haunted house goes rogue pushed a lot of my buttons. It’s creepy, atmospheric, and shocking all at once, with a character that you care about from the beginning and an awesome back-and-forth struggle. Go ahead, venture forth into Danielle’s lair of terror—there’s nothing in there that could possibly hurt you. After all, these things are all make-believe, right? Right?

—John Hartness

author of the Bubba The Monster Hunter series

Skippy

Kylie’s screams shredded the air the way shards of glass cut through cobwebs. She jerked back, her hands shaking violently. Something cool and slimy flew off them and slapped against Don’s cheek as he brought his hands up to steady her.

Eww! Eww! EWWW!

He didn’t say a word, but Don agreed; whatever she’d flicked off her hand now slid down his face and was now heading inside his shirt. One hand came off Kylie’s shoulder to intercept it. His fingers rubbed across something the consistency of chilled jelly. Every year the haunted house changed. Whoever designed it this year had gone all-out.

The effort was not lost on his baby sister.

No! No! I can’t do it! I can’t! I want to go back. Kylie whimpered. She continued to back up until she pressed tight against his chest. When he didn’t move, she slammed herself into him and pushed, as if determination alone would send him the way they had come. Somewhere in the dark ahead of them rose a witch’s cackle. Kylie jumped at the sudden sound and renewed her efforts with more force. Her little body crashed against him like a battering ram. He had to brace himself more than once as she pulled away and slammed back over and over. For all her fierceness, he smelt the acrid scent of her fear and responded.

Shhh…shhhh… With ten years between their ages, Don was used to soothing his twelve-year-old sister. They shared some link that made him particularly suited for it, a connection beyond the norm. He could not explain except to call it a mental ability. Not telepathy, not empathy, but something that allowed him to influence her. He could not make her do things, but if emotion clouded reason, he could clear it away; kind of like calming by osmosis. It worked best if they were touching, but that was not necessary.

His clean hand came off her shoulder and smoothed down her sandy curls so he could rest his chin on top of her head. As he did so, he brought both arms around her slender shoulders in a sheltering hug. He spoke because she expected it, though it was not what he said out loud that made a difference. Come on, darlin’. It’s okay. We’re almost there.

I want to go back. This time she braced against him and used her muscular legs to push him back. "I want to go back!"

Kylie was nothing if not stubborn. He could hear it in her voice. Intractable, unyielding…she would dig in with both feet all night. Leaning forward to cancel out her nearly successful efforts, he chuckled and rubbed her arms gently.

Sweetie, Don allowed amusement to edge into his voice. Think about it, we’re over halfway through. If we turn around now you’ll just have to go by the creepy stuff all over again.

She remained silent a long moment. He could feel her scalp shift forward. In his mind, he saw the glowering pout so familiar to him. He gave her a little extra squeeze, another mental push. Growling, she slapped at his arms until he let her go.

"Never again! Never again, Donkey-breath!" She whirled as she spit the words at him. As she turned, artificial lightning cracked through the dank ‘graveyard’ they stood in the middle of. The setting and the spooky glow made her glare downright ghoulish despite the silver tracks of tears glittering on her cheeks. If she weren’t so young and his kid sister, Don would have been doing some serious back-pedaling himself. Instead, he smiled.

"Come on, Ky, you say that every year. This was your idea, you know."

Her scowl deepened and her tiny hands curled into hard little fists. He chuckled and grabbed them before she could bring them into play.

Hey, find the way out and the caramel apple’s on me.

Her fists stayed clenched, but the scowl lost all its heat. Kylie suddenly grinned as if she were six. "A caramel apple and cotton candy," she countered.

Don let go of her hands, held out one of his own, and shook on it. He chuckled and waited patiently as she visibly gathered her courage to move forward. They weren’t in any rush. The lady who tore their tickets told them they were the last ones for the night, so it wasn’t like anyone was going to come up on them.

Ahead the shrieks and laughter of those who had gone before grew fainter. Time to continue on or they would end up locked in for the night. They moved through darkness and shadow in a quick hustle. Canned shrieks and maniacal laughter kept pace with them, while burning red eyes blinked from unexpected places. The occasional denizens of the dungeon leapt out, only to fade back once Kylie screamed. Near the end, the floor beneath the grate they walked on fell away to reveal the illusion of a raging inferno below, as if they were about to plummet straight to hell. Kylie simply clutched his hand a little tighter and plowed through, squealing as low-flying bats zipped by.

Finally, the moss-draped exit came into sight. Don barely registered Kylie’s gasp as the door clanged shut behind them. He was too busy gulping hard. The exit had not led outside; it led to a hall of mirrors.

He turned to push back through into the haunted house, only to find that there were no handles on this side of the door.

Wow… Kylie’s tone came out hushed with awe. The wonder in her voice drew him back around. He struggled to force away his own less-eager reaction. For her, Don plastered a smile on his face. A strained grimace reflected back at him a thousand-fold.

Crap. This was not good. If he’d known this was here, he would have given in to Kylie’s insistence to go back the other way. Something lurked behind the silver-backed glass, something hungry. Something primal instinct told him to avoid. He’d encountered it once as a child and had avoided mirrored mazes ever since. Hell, he avoided any mirror, if he could.

This time he had no choice; the way out led straight through that perilous maze. For the first time ever Don wished his link with Kylie went both ways. The best she could do was hold his hand, only his ego could not stand the blow of letting her know how freaked he was.

Oh wow! Will you get a load of this... Kylie started forward and it was Don’s turn to dig in his heels. She turned to look at him, the memory of her own fear quickly fading. The corners of her mouth drew down and her brow furrowed as she grabbed his hand and tugged. Come on, Don Quixote, face your demons.

Internally, Don flinched. Demons. Apt word. Thousands upon thousands of them stared back at him. Each one wore his face. Literally mirroring his every move. In theory, he held the power over them. After all, what could a reflection do but follow his steps? His forehead immediately filmed over with sweat. He gave in to his need to keep hold of her hand. He had learned long ago that reflections could be more than they seemed.

Cut it out, Ky.

Hey, it’s just a maze. Her tone softened as she saw through his efforts to remain calm. Let’s go, we’ll be through it in no time. I promise, this time I’ll protect you.

Reluctantly, he let her draw him forward. He watched the thing with his face, waited for it to make its move. When he looked at it head on, it matched him exactly, over and over in endless repetition. Except for the glimpses he caught from the corner of his eye. Those made him tense. Those expressions and actions did not exactly mirror Don’s own.

He continued to let Kylie lead the way. Her reflection stayed true to