frustrated mother of teenager

A Table Of Contents, In Progress

As part of the January 13 Prompt Call, I started doing landing pages for series I write or worlds I write in.  I don't always write in an established world or series but I seem to have a lot of worlds and series out there.

Having created landing pages, they are of no use to any of us, if no-one can find them.  Hence this page.

The landing pages created so far are for:

The Angel Universe - a world of polytheism, angels, vard, and a lot of humans, including one group who believe they are the chosen of the gods.

Rensa - within the world of the Defensive Diaspora, there is a world where the revolution has wiped out the entire Imperial family.  Except for one princess, who was made a proposal she can't refuse by a man who's in his job because everyone else is dead.

The Prince of Cats - a father and son who aren't quite what they seem.

The Winged Cat Universe a contemporary world with magic, and winged cats.

After The Fairy Tale - so what happened after the fairy tale ended?

The Squad - four ship protection specialists in a space faring culture.

Mayin -  after a decade away fighting an interstellar war, a returned soldier tries to adjust to the civilian world with the complication of an unexpected suitor.

Erima -  the demons are taking over, the godssons are the free world's best hope, and Erima was not the child her mother hoped for.

The Elf - the elf has taken over the city.  He's up to something and he's being opposed, but the opposition doesn't care if they hurt people.

Nai - a mangaish road trip undertaken by a young, female, professional gi fighter and her instructor.

Frack - Ludwina Frack has reappeared after being missing for seven years, but her life of spaceships, piracy and offers she can't refuse isn't over yet.

Iphana - within the world of the Defensive Diaspora, on a world with extreme arctic climate changes, a young technician is almost abandoned for the winter...

Afterwhen - there was a catastrophe, maybe even an apocalypse, but that was a while ago and is just passing from living memory. Different groups have different resources, different skills and different issues.

The Unformed Coven - thirteen people who are quite happy as they are, with their own concerns and lives. Other people, it seems, have plans for them that they may not care for.

Dark Fantasy Bingo - based on the prompts from my Dark Fantasy Bingo card from 2013 we have the story of Sillan Denevda after she became Tamin Sorid - because of politics and stuff.

The Twisted Skein - probably space opera with star ships, isolated human civilizations, plus drama and intrigue if I can pull them off.

Inheritance - in the wake of an elderly man's death, secrets begin to come out and stories to reawaken. (Note: may contain super heroes.)

After I finish listing the various series, then I'll have to keep the landing pages up-to-date....

Engaging With Family

This follows on from “A Negotiation” which can be found on Dreamwidth, LiveJournal, and Patreon. The entire series of these stories is tagged ‘Erima’ but the complete set is only on LiveJournal here. This story comes out of kelkyag’s Dreamwidth prompt for “the next segment on an open multi-part piece” and it runs to 1,929 words. I hope that you enjoy it.

The visit to Chatham had gone well.  Denfia Sarobrast had discussed new siege machines with the workshop supervisors and managers, while Erima had talked delivery schedules, space requirements and maintenance needs.  Alvithis Mordvill had made notes about floor space and clearance requirements.  When they were done, Erima and her little retinue of experts moved on to the stone quarries at Sudentenvale, travelling in the cart supplied and driven by Temus Porter.

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Saylie: Lessons Vignette 2

This came from thnidu’s prompt on Dreamwidth.  After taking a hard pivot around a plot hole, this piece came in at 683 words and did not end where I expected it to.  It follows on from Saylie: Lesson Vignette 1.

Today's lesson was taking place under an irregularly shaped gazebo in the back garden of the home of Saylie's mentor, Magister Herotus Zallack.  There was a collection of stools scattered around the covered over space and a small table sat in the middle of the room.  A hammock was strung between two of the supports so that it occupied the length of one wall.  Magister Zallack was wearing his usual outfit of a toga over a kilt, all of it undyed, while Saylie was wearing a greenish-blue sari over a dark blue bodice constructed of silk, knots, and firm twists.

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Saylie: Lessons Vignette 1

So, this comes from [personal profile] chanter1944 ’s Dreamwidth prompt for “… can I ask for Saylie Chaterhalm in the early days of learning about, and finally succeeding with, her magic once she was out from under the heel of her mother's insistence on order and control?”.  This piece came in at 793 words.  Other pieces about Saylie can be found with this tag.

Saylie's mentor was an older man with whose skew-whiff hair and beard were grey lightening into white. His clothing was, essentially, a toga over a kilt with fraying edges on both pieces of cloth. He was, as he had told Saylie, a chaos Magister, and his name was Herotus Zallack. Right now, he was trying to find out what Saylie already knew.

"So, your mother tutored you at home, but no-one has ever discussed your magic's affiliations or alignment with you?" He looked like he was trying to be hopeful and encouraging. "How far along are you in your training?"

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This is now followed by "Saylie:  Lessons Vignette 2". This entry was originally posted at There have been comment count unavailable comments there.

The Cabbage Seller in the Capital

Ada Kerman on Patreon asked for, “More Nai. More Liavan. A link to the other appearance(s) of the cabbage seller that got a cameo in Nai's story.” As a consequence we now have 2,095 words on the cabbage seller who hadn’t had any other appearances to link to….

It was four in the morning and Jie Bai was at the markets to buy vegetables.  The Jie family had been selling vegetables to the households of the Tang-jian Capital for four generations and it was part of his job to choose and buy the produce that the family's network of stalls and shops would offer to their customers.  Later in the day he would take over the cabbage stall that his elderly cousin, Jie Bo, ran while the old man went home for lunch with his daughter and an afternoon nap.  Jie Bo would come back to finish off the day and lock up, while Jie Bai went home to eat, bathe and sleep before he got up at three to go to the markets again.
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Caterpillars and Parsley

I wrote this 746-word piece to an anonymous LJ prompter’s request. This is my third attempt, the first one resulted in the first few paragraphs of Liavan: Summer but then I got took a wrong turn with that and set it aside for now, so here we are. I hope you enjoy this.

"And the only things you can find in common between these...incidents are parsley and caterpillars?"  Edmona looked sceptical.

"There are theories," admitted Treece.  "Generally, Devlin finds them for me late at night in funny little holes of the internet being promulgated by self-identified bot accounts."

"Oh, really sound theories then."  Edmona was less than impressed.

"At least they have theories," riposted Treece.  "I've got nothing.  Zilch.  Nada.  Maybe a supposition."

"Certainly not the missing antiquities."  Edmona thought for a moment.  "You've factored in that all the taken items have less than pristine provenance?"

"Yes, but it's not the same less than pristine provenance."  Treece sighed.  "Multiple points of origin.  Multiple, mainly unrelated collectors.  Multiple periods of manufacture.  They were all 'liberated' from their original locations within a two-hundred-year time frame but none of the items taken were acquired at the same time.  They've never been in the same exhibition or the same collection.  They haven't been through the same auction house.  Other items sitting right next to them that were collected by the same person from the same place and at the same time as a stolen item were left behind.  I'm asking about past and current curators, cleaning and admin staff now."

Edmona looked quizzically at her.  "Someone's taking their favourite pieces?"

"That possibility is as close as I get to a theory." Treece sighed again.  "Whoever it is has either skills or money to buy skills.  Also, I have nothing to explain the parsley and the caterpillars."

"So, your latest acquisition is off to its new home?"  Pemberton was sipping tea and watching Fredericks over his teacup.
"More like its original home," corrected Fredericks gently.  "A place it should never have left."

"Your ancestors would be upset with you," commented Pemberton.  "Some of them went to great lengths and expense to have those items acquired."

"I choose not to support all of my ancestors' choices," replied Fredericks.  "I also choose to...rectify some of their actions.  I also admit to being selfish enough not to give away everything I inherited from them because I like living in comfort."

"Which also allows you to take those rectifying steps."  Pemberton acknowledged.  He put the teacup down and picked up the plate holding his chosen slice of cake and a cake fork.  "May I ask what you're planning to repatriate next?"

"You may not.  However, congratulations may be in order shortly - I intend to acquire a certain lady investigator...for my personal collection, so to speak."  He drank some tea.

"Gerring Fredericks, do I need to be worried about you?  You do realise that you can't go around collecting people, don't you?"  Pemberton put his cake down again.

"Don't worry, I have no intention of staging an abduction or kidnapping."  Fredericks smiled and added, "I am allowed to scrape an acquaintance and launch a courtship, aren't I?"


"I find her attractive.  Also, she's beginning to ask questions that will eventually lead her to some gardeners and a landscaper, and as my wife she couldn't be made to give testimony in a trial, if I went to trial.  If she were my wife, I could offer persuasive arguments and blandishments for her not to become involved in my trial, if it came to that."  He smiled again and added, "I can make it possible for her to be far more comfortable than she is now."

"Is she uncomfortable now?"  Pemberton picked up his cake again, elegant brown hands contrasting with the pale china.

"She's a freelance investigator living with a rather ramshackle brother - no readily apparent moral issues on the brother's part but no reliable apparent source of income either."  Fredericks drank a little more tea.  "If she were married to me, she would be financially secure."

"Money can't buy happiness but lack of it can make you miserable," noted Pemberton just before he ate a forkful of cake.  "When do you think your investigator is going to connect you to the liberated items?"

"Probably after I introduce her to my butterfly house."  He squinted while he spent a moment considering his options.  "As late in our courtship as I can contrive, I believe."

“What has your butterfly house got to do with your other endeavours?”  Pemberton loaded up his fork with more cake and some whipped cream.

Fredericks smiled beatifically at his friend.  “I left caterpillars in my garden work for those fine establishments I moonlighted at.  The world needs more butterflies, don’t you think?” 


This came from [personal profile] lilfluff's prompt "An unexpected dinner guest brings long awaited news" and runs to 629 words.

The letter arrived as part of two satchels of mail that Falco had collected in Magenda when the first mail ship arrived after the annual storm blockade of the Howloon Straits.  He had bounced up to the front door of the family home just in time for dinner with his usual uninvited but impeccable sense of timing. The house on Crense Street was still the family home, even though most of Falco's generation had moved out.  Despite that, when the assembled family sat down at the table there were still fifteen people plus an empty seat.

The satchels sat untouched on the coffee table in the lounging room while they ate because, as Sachi had said, the mail could wait another hour, but the meal would spoil in the same time.  It was a good meal: fish dumplings with Grandma's own sauce, meat and potato stew with steamed green vegetables, and pome pie with cream and cinnamon ice-cream.  When it was done, they loaded up the dishwasher, turned it on, cleared off the dining table, and took their after-dinner drinks into the lounging room.

Because he had collected the mail and the satchels were his, Uncle Falco conducted the sorting and handing out of the mail.  There was a pile for the house on Crense Street and another for the house ten minutes away on Hortense Square.  A stack of small packages was for the house down south on the inlet coast.  There was a sheaf of letters for Aubley who travelled back and forward over the road into the interior.  Presumably, any mail for Uncle Falco's house in Magenda had been left there before he set out because nothing for him came out of the satchels.

The mail for the Crense Street house further broke down into family mail and individual mail.  The family mail was, some of it, addressed to Great-Grandpa who had built the house as a young man and then gone into the grave as an old man thirty years ago.  Some of it was addressed to the house because various matters concerning property didn't care who owned or resided on the property.  The rest of it was addressed to Grandpa, who mainly let Aurin deal with such things these days.  Everyone at the table, except Falco himself, got at least one piece of individual mail.  There were technical, professional and hobby journals.  Private letters and catalogues.  Bills, invoices, and three boxes of tabletop miniatures.  Finally, there was one pale blue envelope left, addressed by hand in a flowing black script, and sealed with a flattened, patterned dollop of red wax.

It was directed not to a name but to the Paterfamilias.

Grandpa and Aurin looked at the letter for a long time, and then they looked at each other before Grandpa picked the envelope up and opened it.  He read through the words on the pale blue page, and then passed it to Aurin, saying, "Read it."

Having read the letter, Aurin commented, "So, this is what our missing brother has been doing with himself."

Sachi sat up straighter.  "Cherune?  Is that letter from him or about him?"  She and Grandma clutched each other's hands.

"Sort of both," replied Aurin cautiously.  "I mean it's from the Comptroller Imperious Maximus in Trineum but it's also saying that Cherune is the new Comptroller Imperious Maximus."

"How did that happen?"  Aurin's wife, Zeline, looked flabbergasted.

"I don't know.  He doesn't say," replied Aurin.

"Wait," put in Sachi.  "Doesn't the Comptroller Imperious Maximus have to be married?"

"Well, yes," said Grandpa.  "There was a big fuss when I was a boy because the incumbent's wife left him."

"So, who did our brother marry?"

Aurin looked over the letter again.  "You know, I didn't miss it.  He really doesn't say."

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(Dreamwidth is supposed to autopost to here for me but doesn't seem to be doing it for me today so this story may wind up here twice.)

I wrote this to Joanna Stabler-Kimmel’s prompt “I would like to see antagonists being more cheerful and helpful and kind to the protagonist than the protagonist's allies usually are.”  For those of you who track such things, this may or may not be a new world, but it is one that has hyper abilities, otherwise known as super powers.  It came in at 6,921 words and because I couldn’t find a good place to break it into pieces, I am posting it in one fell swoop.  I hope you enjoy it.

Merser realised that her eyes were closed and opened them.  It was harder to do than she expected, and she realised that she felt groggy as well.  Her body ached in enough places that it felt like she hurt all over, and she was lying on her side.  When her eyes sorted out the whole focussing thing, she was looking at the green and grey flecked gravel road surface.  She'd been riding her bike in her teammate's slipstream for the speed boost while they got away from Slicker's men and then, suddenly, there'd been a school bus stuck in the intersection when Fixer had forced the lights to change for them.  She closed her eyes again as she tried to recall what had happened next - Zimma, on the faster and more mobile bike, had zigged but Merser had been blocked by traffic on either side of her and hadn't had that option.

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I wrote this to my Patreon patron M.B.’s prompt “Wheels within wheels.” It came in at 2,147 words. It is also set in the same universe as my Polynesian space empire, but it is a long way from there – this area is much nearer Earth.

Erni and Brun were shining their hand lights around the space they'd entered, trying to get an idea of how big it was and what was inside it.  Their ship's sensors had told them that there were no detectable active power sources or systems as well as no detectable life signs, but that wasn't always the whole story.   "There's Armesan and Romaji stuff in here," said Brun.  "So, whatever this place is and whatever is going on, it's been around for at least a thousand years."

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It Was A Quiet Evening

I wrote this to Conrad Wong's prompt on Patreon of "an adventure (scene) *entirely* at home". It came in at 791 words.

A light glow bloomed into existence, dimly illuminating the room from a corner as a female voice from the room's doorway said, "You could just have come to the compound's gate during something resembling business hours and asked to see me, you know.  If you can't afford to pay coin, I'm open to barter."

He turned around to see a female figure wrapped in an overlarge lounging robe standing in the doorway.

"So, what's a pretty high elf doing in my library in the middle of the night?"  She was hitting a note between exasperated and amused, and from her expression she knew that calling a male high elf 'pretty' would annoy him.

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