It came to my attention today, when sending my email about Hoofin' It being $0.99, that approximately half of my mailing list had mysteriously been assigned to the nether.

I contacted my mailing provider, and they performed emergency care on my account. It has been fixed! They're now auto-monitoring my account for this issue, as it's a new-to-them problem they've never seen before.

I am SO sorry to those of you who haven't been receiving the emails. I've been using the newsletter for important updates and new releases, and I feel a bit awful you weren't getting the intel you signed up for. (Ahhhh.)

So, to make it up to you, here is a full chapter of an upcoming new pen name for you to sink your teeth into. This is the most I've sent to anyone outside of Patreon, so I really hope you enjoy it.

This is from Grave Affairs (Lilith Daniels, an upcoming pen name dedicated to a dragons, magic, paranormal investigations, and shenanigans This is a passion project for me, which means I scrape together every scrap of free time I can to work on this book around the things that pay the bills. I REALLY hope this series takes off, because I would LOVE if I could go full series on it. I have two storylines already in the works, so there will be two books. (I have covers for both.)

(This will be announced officially in the upcoming weeks when I have sufficient progress of the book done to have a better understanding of its length.)

Note: there are a LOT of typos because this is as raw as it gets. And as I'm not a cruel monster, here's the cover for you to admire:

Chapter One

Friday, April 17, 2167

The Gray Ward

Dragon Heights, Wyoming

It took a rain of lemurs to finally convince me that moving to Dragon Heights, Wyoming, had been a mistake. Last week, it had been toads, some of which could inconvenience those who didn’t take them seriously. I hadn’t minded the toads.

A pair of gloves and a little care had bagged me ten dollars per dead head, fifteen dollars per living croaker, and twenty for the endangered ones, living or dead. The head honchos preferred them alive, but the dead ones would make themselves useful in a lab for study.

I’d gotten fifty for one of my toads, a rather nasty little shit determined to eat the world. At six inches long, it hadn’t accomplished all that much, but it had tried to take my hand off at the wrist.

It had taken a rather amused titanium dragon to pry the blighter off, and I’d been observed for two hours to make certain I wouldn’t fall over dead on them.

My gloves, which went up to my elbows, had saved the day.

Gloves wouldn’t save me from the wretchedly adorable lemurs. Without fail, they’d dig their tiny claws into my soul and refuse to let go. Their oversized, imploring eyes would do me in.

Endangered species, like the lemurs, all went to the dragons for care, enrollment into their various conservatories and menageries, or were released back into the wild, depending on their origin. With the ongoing weekly trials to unlock draconic powers in the petitioners, it could go any which way.

Some lemurs might be real, translocated as a result of the power surge associated with draconic petitioners working their rituals. Some of the lemurs would be conjured, with the majority of them dissolving away to ash, goo, or smoke. The final few would be true creations, a new species brought to life through the determination of a petitioner wishing to rise through the ranks of the dragon-kin.

When a dragon-kin came calling as a petitioner, the dragons took care. Sometimes, they bit off more than they could chew.

For a rain of lemurs to fall on the Gray Ward, the dragons had either forgotten to contain the dragon-kin’s power or they’d gotten an unpleasant surprise. Or both.

For the most part, the dragons did try to avoid the unwanted surprises.

It cost them a fortune in weekly bounties.

Resigned to paying the remainder of my rent through bounty collection, I rummaged through my backpack for the canvas bag I kept just in case opportunity knocked. At the size of a large garbage bag, I’d be able to bag a bunch of the obviously dead lemurs for a decent check. I’d have to handle one injured animal at a time, a task destined to take up the rest of the day.

As I liked getting paid, I always made certain to keep Fridays free.

Just in case.

I put on my gloves and went to work, wondering what other insanity the rulers of Dragon Heights would inflict upon us in their quest to waken more of their kind.

* * *

Friday, April 17, 2167

The Gray Ward

Dragon Heights, Wyoming

I crammed at least forty deceased animals into my bag and carried six live specimens, all of whom had decided I made an interesting roost. The smallest of them liked to burrow in my hair, promising several frustrating hours to restore to rights.

It took a great deal of washing to remove the creepy-crawly feeling of animals from who-knows-where using my hair as a nest.

Fortunately for my sanity, the dragons had multiple bounty drop-off stations in every ward. Ten minutes after collecting the final body, I reached the brick and stone building owned and operated by the titanium dragons, who tended to be responsible for the majority of the city’s troubles.

The titanium dragons enjoyed creating mayhem and disaster, as it gave them something to do.

I pushed through the door, careful to avoid dislodging my collection of wildlife. The receptionist glanced my way and burst into laughter. He got up from his seat, circled his desk, and hurried over. “I was wondering if I’d see you today, Kinsley.”

As I showed up most Fridays with a haul, I expected he wanted to ask what had taken me so long to make my way over. I closed the door to prevent any escapees and heaved a sigh. “There’s a lemur in my hair, Cedrick.”

As the son of a pair of titaniums, Cedrick counted as one of the dragon-kin nobody wanted to cross. One day, he’d either sprout wings and scales of his own accord or petition until he sprouted wings and scales. One day, however, he’d transform and join his fellow dragons in creating trouble for me.

For the moment, he remained a relatively safe individual to know among dragons and their kin.

Titaniums couldn’t sniff out secrets, not like some of the other colors.

I did not need any dragon sniffing around my secrets. I wanted my secrets to remain mine and mine alone, although an unfortunate number already knew more than I wanted.

In Miami, I had been valued for my ability to understand how a wound had come to be. I’d dropped hints to the coroners one too many times, earning the label of necromancer.

Then Miami had outlawed necromancy, and I’d fled to Dragon Heights, a place necromancers wisely avoided but purple dragons could work their magic without interference.

I had my great-great-grandfather to thank for the unwanted and inaccurate label of necromancer, but I didn’t want my past and present to collide.

It would only be a matter of time before dragons and their kin were outlawed in Miami, too.

I sighed, and I went to work catching the living lemurs so Cedrick could cage them and send them off to their new homes.

The little shit burrowing in my hair put up a fight, and it issued pathetic little cries when I finally caught it. My heart broke, and I pet the baby to comfort it. “Can you please tell your kin to stop summoning these little ones? I’m going to need therapy I can’t afford if this keeps happening.”

Cedrick sighed, and he claimed the animal from me. “These aren’t pets, Kinsley. They can’t be pets, never will be pets, and shouldn’t ever be considered as a pet by anyone for any reason. They’re aggressive, they’re not tamable, and they kill their young in captivity. All of the live ones will be given medical care and either sent to a reservation designed for them or released into the wild.”

How sad. “Why aren’t they being aggressive now? The toads certainly were.”

“Magic, of course. We knew we’d have a wild petitioner today, so the dragons took care with their precautions. All the lemurs not wrangled by Monday are going to be difficult at best, so do make sure you bring in any and all you see. And their diseases transfer to us with ease, so if you get sick, get to a doctor quickly. They can carry some pretty nasty viruses. But in good news, the going rate is tripled because these guys are trouble, so I have a good wad of cash for you today. I was also told I owe you an extra six hundred; some of your toads were quite special, so you’re owed compensation.”

“How is Mouthy Asshole doing?” I asked, aware the biter wouldn’t be returning to the wild thanks to its taste for human and dragon flesh.

Cedrick laughed. “Mouthy Asshole has a girlfriend, and they’re making some little mouthy assholes as we speak. That’s part of why you’re getting the check. The male and female are genetically diverse, and the species is critically endangered.”

It would be nice to have a few weeks of enjoying life without worrying over paying the rent. While staying in Miami would have been bad for my health, I missed a lot of things about my home.

My boyfriend took the top of the list. Well, fiancé, when honest with myself. Ex-fiancé, as I’d had the integrity to formally break off my relationship with him before bailing town.

One day, he would be a police captain if he wasn’t already, and the last thing he needed was my status as a presumed necromancer dragging him down.

Maybe I’d taken it a little too far following up with a disappearing act, but I really liked my head attached to my shoulders, and I doubted the lynch mobs in Miami would stop long enough to listen to my explanations there was a hefty difference between necromancers and dragon-kin.

As I didn’t want the dragons of Dragon Heights figuring out I was a dragon-kin of mixed heritage, my general plan worked well despite my various regrets.

To cover my silence, I heaved a sigh and stared at the lemur Cedrick handled. “But it’s so cute.”

“I know, I know. I’ll tell my old man you were emotionally traumatized by the unreasonable cuteness of these guys. Maybe we’ll get a rain of kittens next.”

“I will personally murder any dragons or dragon-kin deliberately creating a rain of kittens. Their deaths will be so grotesque Dragon Heights will speak of it in hushed whispers for a thousand years.” If I had to collect deceased kittens because of some petitioner, the dragon-kin or human involved would perish at my hands, and I’d go after the damned dragon who permitted it as well. “The same applies to puppies, horses, and any animal that counts as a common house pet.”

Cedrick winced. “I’ll also tell my old man you mean business when it comes to the cute, fluffy babies. How about winged foxes?”

My eyes widened at the thought of winged foxes. “That sounds like so much trouble.”

“Foxes are trouble, but they’re adorable trouble. Dad said if we get a rain of foxes, I can keep a pair for our menagerie.”

Damned dragons, collecting everything they wanted, including animals and people. “I’m really going to need therapy if there is a rain of foxes. At least a quarter of them die. Either please tell them to process their petitioners in a better fashion for the wildlife or make them do it the long way. Stop killing off the animals, damn it!”

“The ones that die are typically conjurations, Kinsley. They were never alive in the first place. They just rot like they were, so we need to get rid of them if they don’t dissolve on their own. The live ones manifest fairly close to the ground.”

“And the injured ones?” I demanded, pointing at the little lemur with a broken leg. “It’s obviously not a safe process.”

“That would have happened after the manifestation but before you found it. It was probably in a fight with another lemur and lost. It’s a dissipation of magic. The real ones teleport near the ground. The conjured ones appear in the air and fall. That distributes the magical load better. Otherwise, the pilgrimage is dangerous and unlikely to result in a full dragon.”

Hello, intel. It’d been awhile since I’d gotten a dragon-kin or dragon to talk about the petitioning progress. “Pilgrimage? What pilgrimage?”

“There are a few ways a human can become a dragon or a dragon-kin can unlock their heritage. Petitioning is the easiest and safest, but it requires numerous dragons participating to succeed. It can take a petitioner years to cultivate enough favor with the dragons to actually start the rains. And the number of supporting dragons determines how many rains are needed. Today’s rain? One and done from my understanding of the matter. I don’t know much about the petitioner, but he wanted his status as a dragon to be kept quiet.”

“Human or dragon-kin?”

“Human, but he has some dragon ancestry. Too far down the line to claim status as dragon-kin, but he has the genetics to transition easier than regular humans. That’s all I know, though. I could even be wrong. It’s an honor system, and he didn’t claim himself as dragon-kin, although he did say he had draconic ancestry.”

Interesting. “Do you know how many dragons it took for this one-and-done petition?”

“Oh. That I do know. There were three hundred and fifty dragons present, and they had an equal number of future petitioners present. They had quite the shindig today.”

I gestured at the lemurs. “No kidding. How about the rain of toads?”

“Fifty dragons with a pair of petitioners, and they’ll be back for at least ten more sessions. They’re mated and wanted to petition together.”

I whistled. “Now that’s some dedication.”

Cedrick grinned. “No kidding. Let me get these in the back so they can be taken care of, then I’ll handle your payment and we can gossip some more.”

“Sounds like a plan.” It’d been a while since I’d gotten news about Dragon Heights and the dragons.

When I wasn’t scrounging for bounties, I attempted to rebuild my life from the wreckage, attending classes when I could afford them in the hopes of securing an extra boring but ridiculously safe job, one that paid the rent without me worrying about being bitten, battling against hardened criminals, and otherwise putting myself in the line of fire.

Perhaps one day.

* * *

Friday, April 17, 2167

The Gray Ward

Dragon Heights, Wyoming

Cedrick served me tea while we chatted, and he even provided sufficient sanitizer to make certain I wouldn’t catch anything from the lemurs. Every twenty or thirty minutes, somebody came around with more of the stray animals, and I wondered how Cedrick contained them all in the back. I could only assume other dragon-kin or dragons worked to send them off to their new homes.

At five, precisely three hours after feeding me the basic gossip of Dragon Heights, which amounted to who was sleeping with who as a general rule, he said, “So, you want to know about the pilgrimage?”

“I’m curious,” I confessed.

“You have proven yourself to be a friend of dragons and dragon-kin, so I break no taboo telling you. But the trouble you cause and cause for yourself is your responsibility and your responsibility alone.”

How interesting. “I accept responsibility.”

“You always do, which is why you’re a friend of dragon and dragon-kin.”

In reality, I was a friend of the dragons and their kin for a few more practical reasons, including my general desire to avoid being eaten.

My parents would enjoy putting me in my place if they found out I had meddled in the affairs of dragons without taking appropriate care.

Then again, they would enjoy putting me in my place when they figured out where I’d gone after abandoning Miami. Once a month, I sent them a letter, but I used a service to give each letter a new post stamp somewhere far away from my actual location. With a warrant, they could find out I’d gone to Dragon Heights.

As it was expected of me, I smiled. “Do these pilgrimages create nearly as much trouble for others as the petitioners?”

“Oh, not at all. Pilgrimages tend to be a solo endeavor with singular consequences. But it’s a great deal more effort. The resulting dragon is more powerful, however—and as such, it’s discouraged.”

“More powerful how?” I frowned, as even dragon-kin could develop strong enough powers. My ability to read the wounds of others, a trait of purple dragons, had woken on its own. I’d been five, my father had scraped his knee on his way home from work, and I’d done my best to bandage it.

He’d fallen preventing a woman from taking a spill. I’d captured a brief hint of his worry that if she fell, the baby she held would be hurt.

Being a child, I had asked if the baby had escaped without a boo-boo. I’d startled my father, and then I’d worried him.

Their nature shouldn’t have stirred so young, and he’d praised me for caring but had made me promise to never tell a soul what I saw or felt or how I’d come to inherit my magic.

I’d kept that promise, and as such, I had been condemned as a necromancer.

“They’re advanced, have more access to the magic of their color, and have stronger magic. It’s a great deal more work,” the dragon-kin answered before drumming his fingers on the table. “Most choose against making the effort, as there’s too much risk.”

“That tracks. Those who do things the easy way do not reap the rewards. But do the dragons stop those who try to do this pilgrimage?”

“No, but that is only because very few actually succeed—or they stop once they have awoken sufficient power as a dragon-kin. Some don’t want to take on the rest of the risks after getting some of the reward.” Cedrick glanced at the door, and then he shrugged. “Pilgrimages are simple yet difficult. It begins with the various temples of the dragons. If a dragon-kin, the pilgram must visit the shrines of every dragon in his or her heritage. If a human, the pilgram will go to the shrine of their preferred color. The pilgrimage then begins with the equivalent of prayer. The sites are rather magical in nature. There have been instances of accidental pilgrams, too.”

“Wait. So I could just visit one of these shrines and start a pilgrimage?”

“That’s correct. But visually, nobody would be aware you have undertaken the pilgrimage. The next step is personal. You must obtain an object of personal importance and sacrifice it at the shrine. That’s usually when pilgrims are identified. There are dragons monitoring the shrines for obvious sacrifices.” Cedrick smirked. “Of course, there are ways to handle the sacrifice in secret. Wise pilgrams will keep their sacrifice in their pocket and pretend to be a tourist or photographer.”

I snorted, as I couldn’t afford a camera even if I wanted one, and I hadn’t owned a cell phone since leaving Miami.

While many living in Dragon Heights enjoyed their technology and creature comforts, things like cars and phones tended to be of little importance to beings who could fly at their whim. Add in the psionic abilities of fully fledged dragons, and most didn’t bother joining the rest of the world when it came to modernization.

Considering how many were dragon-kin or aspired to become dragons, most forms of technology had made way for magic.

I wondered how long Miami would last for when it strived to erase anything magical. When I’d been a detective, I’d worked cases involving magic and mundane weapons. I’d done my job well.

I’d just been too accurate, too driven to solve the crimes assigned to me, and too determined to allow someone to get away with murder when I could prove who had done it.

Nowadays, I cursed my family line, which had every color of dragon known to exist, although the curse of my purple ancestors had cost me everything of value.

As far as I was concerned, I’d already sacrificed.

I saw no need to go on a pilgrimage and lose even more.

I snorted, mostly at myself but a little at the absurdity of Cedrick teaching me how I might become a dragon. “I have no desire to become a dragon, although I’m now curious about the shrines.”

“I wouldn’t go. Not right now. It’s not safe. Someone’s been targeting people going to the shrines.”

The part of me I’d believed to be dead and gone stirred. “Someone is murdering possible pilgrims?”

Cedrick winced. “Yes.”

I stared at him. “Do you know what I was before I came to Dragon Heights?”

With a raised brow, he shook his head. “Nobody knows. You’ve never spoken a word of your life before Dragon Heights. As far as we know, you popped out of the ground, fully formed and ready to vex us with your mystery.” A smile made an appearance. “Dragons and their kin do love a good mystery.”

I joined him in smiling. “Let’s play a game, then. If I win, you’ll owe me a favor. If you win, I’ll owe you a favor.”

“There’s little dragons like more than gold, and that is favors,” he warned. “And we always charge a premium for favors.”

“Then you should have no problems playing my game. You might win a favor.”

“Tell me about the game first.”

“You have three tries to guess what I was before coming to Dragon Heights.”

“As in your profession?”

I nodded, although I would call it his win he he guessed I was the child of two rather reclusive dragons who rarely sprouted their wings and scales. “You have three guesses. On my honor, I swear I will tell you the truth should you guess.”

Cedrick considered me, tilting his head to the side as though seeing me for the first time. “And you will count my guess correct if the idea is correct but the name is wrong?”

Poor Cedrick. For a dragon-kin, he couldn’t handle certain occupations. I’d caught him near a brothel once, and his ears had turned red from embarrassment. “Yes, I will count your guess as correct in that circumstance.”

“I’ll play your game.”

“Make your guess, then.”

“You were a librarian. You know more than you should about things that you, perhaps, should not.”

“Hardly.” I wondered what he thought I knew. Whatever it was, I had played dumb enough about the nature of dragons and their kin. “I was not a librarian.”

“That’s a pity. You would have been a spectacular librarian.”

“Alas, I am not nearly as well schooled as such honored beings, be they dragon, dragon-kin, or human. Or other.” Some others lurked in the world, but unlike the dragons, they remained secret—and safe.

Cedrick’s eyes narrowed. “A veterinarian, perhaps? You care for the animals you bring in, and you become gloriously angry over the fate of the conjured. Even the ones that try to bite you in an attempt to inject you with their venom.”

That damned toad would never fail to make me laugh. “He tried to bite my hand off at the wrist. He just would not let go. He was so determined. You have to respect that level of determination. I thought about keeping that little shit, too. That’s just what I need in my life. A pet that wants to kill me.”

“Now the stakes are exceptionally high. What could you have been, Kinsley? Who might you have been? Were you a spy, then, fleeing from those you had spied upon?”

Damn. What did Cedrick do with his spare time? Daydream about the strange and interesting things I’d done in some glorious past life?

“I was a homicide detective.”

His eyes widened. “Excuse me, but did you say you were a cop?”

“Specifically a homicide detective, but yes. I was a cop.”

“You?”

I scowled and crossed my arms, leveling a glare his way. “What part of that is so unbelievable?”

“Everything. Everything about it is unbelievable. Nowadays, you scrape pennies together for rent and pick up dead animals off the road for cash. You could do so much more here as a cop. Dragon Heights is always in need of cops.”

Torn between offense and amusement, I engaged him in a staring contest. “I used to be a homicide detective, Cedrick.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

“Nobody deserves to be murdered for taking a long and difficult path to change their station. Maybe a dragon created through a pilgrimage is dangerous, but this person killing innocents is far worse. They are a clear and present danger. The pilgrimage is an uncontrolled possibility. If you can show me the evidence, maybe I can help you solve your mystery.”

“We would owe you far more than mere favors,” Cedrick replied, and his expression turned thoughtful. “But why would you offer? We have done nothing for you, not to justify the risk you would take involving yourself with my problems.”

“Without you and your wretched rains, I wouldn’t be able to pay my rent. I am grateful for that. When I had nothing, you dragon-kin and your dragons gave me opportunity. I came here with nothing, as nothing, and you made it so I can survive.”

“That does not feel like a debt owed to me, not in letter nor in spirit, but if you are willing to help, I am willing to accept your help. But many who go to the shrines are attacked, and most die. Those who do not die are left empty shells, alive in body but departed in soul.”

That sounded like necromancy to me. “This is quite the grave affair, then.”

“That it is.”

I checked the time on the wall clock. “I need to pay my rent tonight. Next week, I will be on the lookout for the next rain. Bring me all the paperwork you can on this killer. If you need me before then, you’ll find me at the library.”

“The library?” Cedrick blurted.

“Where else do you think I’m going to find a computer I can use for free? Do I look rich to you? And don’t ask for my phone number. I don’t have one.”

“You’re a luddite.”

“No. I’m poor. There’s a difference. But thanks for the rent money. I appreciate it. Just be glad my favor won’t involve cleaning out your hoard to line my pockets. I’m mean, but I’m not that mean.”