Fantasy

Prohibition Orcs

Short Fiction

Prohibition Orcs

Prohibition Orcs

(Prohibition Orcs 1)

“I love these stories”
Kristine Kathryn Rusch, Hugo- and Nebula-award winning author of The Fey

Prohibition OrcsELVES WENT INTO THE WEST—TO AMERICA.
GENERATIONS LATER, ORCS FOLLOWED.

1927 Detroit. Orcs fight Prohibition, avoid police, and labor hard for their children. All while doing their best to navigate the narrow human world. Men drive fancy Dodges and Cadillacs; orcs squeeze into fourth-hand Model Ts. Dwarves dominate the skilled trades; orcs push brooms. And behind everything, elves make it their life’s work to deny orcs have worth.

To be an orc is to endure, but when the world tries to deny even that, an orc must act.

And Uruk-Tai will do anything for his family.

This long-demanded collection includes all the Prohibition Orcs tales—Spilled Mirovar, Final Gift, Drowned Mirovar, Witness November, Degreased Hopes, Woolen Torment, and the never before published A Debt of Meat.

With an introduction by Robert Jeschonek, author of my Favorite Band Does Not Exist

Frozen Talons

(Prohibition Orcs 2)

Frozen Talons

“A tale so outlandish it feels real. Prohibition. Grosse Pointe elves. Automotive lords. And the orcs doing their best to make America make sense. A riotous fantasy within a fantasy. Terry Pratchett via Detroit!”
Zig Zag Claybourne, author of Afro Puffs are the Antennae of the Universe

HOPE EXISTS TO BE CRUSHED
The tenuous bootlegging alliance between the Tai clan and the human Sanford brought wealth to Uruk-Tai’s family. But a treacherous shadow has poisoned booze in the clan’s name. Humans have died and other humans blame Uruk, the way small men always blame orcs.

But when an orcish child dies from poison draught and war erupts between clans, Uruk finds himself forced into a magic-bound partnership with a clan rival who wants him dead. As the Sun surrenders to the Longest Night, Uruk charges through the belly of 1927 Detroit to find a cowardly killer before his own family is destroyed. Is it a lone poisoner? Or have the arrogant elves decided to end their slow feud and destroy Uruk’s family?

An orc endures, but endurance is not enough.

By dawn, bodies frozen to the street.

Perhaps Uruk’s children among them.

Stories

The Last Hour of Hogswatch


You get one day a year with your true love.

What would you do to keep it?

(Originally published in WMG’s 2020 Holiday Spectacular.)

Available exclusively at my bookstore!

Fair Balls

Fair. A human word that means “orcs lose.”

In a world where imaginary cows matter more than orcs, Ivan-Tai struggles to master the wizardly skill of reading. Every word fights him. But a chance encounter grants him a chance at spelling mastery known by no other orc.

If only he can remember to throw the ball over the plate.

Available exclusively at my e-bookstore!

Yellow-Eyed War

Orcish Childhood: Not For The Weak

Oscar-Tai has counted to one thousand and fifty. He knew the Alphabet Chant, the Pledge of Allegiance, and can form each of the Twenty-Six Letters. He expected to take labor hauling cargo with his father, but instead humans offered to teach him and his brother to read. But Oscar has never seen a war like reading school. Desks built to fit orcs. One failure and the human teacher expels you. And how did that lone orcess earn a place?

Can Oscar endure? Or will he fall to the docks and live marked with failure all his days?

Available exclusively at my e-bookstore.

The Rats’ Man’s Lackey and the Half Gallon of Christmas Miracle

A Private Eye
in Supernatural Witness Protection

Whackadoo Manor: hopeful destination for the desperate and the damned. Where the rooms redecorate themselves, the rodents have a valet, and everyone gets a random name off a list of Terry Pratchett characters. Deal with the nameless creep in charge and he might—might—save your soul.
Or send me to save it for you.
I show up and I wing it. Hard. Hard enough to learn to fly before hitting bottom.
At least this time the client is gorgeous, the weather decent, and—if I’m lucky—there’ll be strawberry ice cream as I plunge…

The Rats’ Man’s Lackey and the Delphi Taco

Arachnids with ideas above their species?
A wandering grimoire masquerading as an old Star Trek novel?
The Whine Cellar and the Boom Closet?
In Whackadoo Manor, we call that Tuesday.

In my straight career, I did terrible things to protect normal people. Now, I do insane things to keep regular folks out of Supernatural Witness Protection. This time it’s a sweet couple too connected to be healthy, staggering on the rim of fubar and about to lose everything.

I know all about deadlines and ticking clocks.
But this time, the clock ticks backwards.

Get it at:

The Rats’ Man’s Lackey and the Forbidden Tinsel


“Someone in our household is practicing Christmas, and we will all be dead by midnight.”

Discover demons are real and, if you survive long enough, you might find supernatural Witness Protection. Stay alive by abandoning your life and your name and following Whackadoo Manor’s rules: no Vienna sausage, no Internet, no Bruce Willis movies or Swedish Modern furniture, and—no matter what—no holidays.
Even the strangest rules have reasons.
Reasons writ in blood.
Sometimes on gingerbread.

Get it exclusively at my bookstore.

Heart of Coal

If you fail absolutely everywhere, if you can’t make decent toys or shovel sticky reindeer shit or suck up enough to jelly-bellied Mister Jolly, there’s always the Pit.

Sack never hoped to be a coal miner for the most ambitious enterprise in the world, but he refuses to fail again. Even if the work gives him (ugh! ick!) biceps. The cute woman working next to him refuses a date. The bigger and stronger miners haul far more coal than him.

Until one horrible day.

If Sack fails this time, he’s not the only one who’ll get fired. From life.

Available exclusively at my bookstore

The Rats’ Man’s Lackey and the Bringer of Leaves

“As long as I’ve been here, you have never forced anyone to accept one of your covenants.” Not even me. “I won’t let you trap that man.”

His thin smile exposed ragged yellow teeth. “Not even for the paltry price of a fresh-baked stolen apple crisp?

“I don’t care if it’s an apple seed,” I said.

“My dear Luggage,” he said. “Do you know why I put up with you?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

The smile evaporated. “Spatchcock will not covenant with me. It will be a mere verbal agreement. With you.”

I blinked. “How is that supposed to work?”

“If it doesn’t,” he said, “he will return for a covenant with me. After sufficient suffering. Dress casual.”

Life and death. All part of the job in Supernatural Witness Protection. A lost hiker carries both. But how can Luggage save someone who prefers damnation?

Previously published in Pulphouse #33.

Available standalone exclusively in my bookstore.