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Skip Carter: Henchman for Hire

Skip Carter: Henchman for Hire
J. Von Swan
Publication date: October 13th 2026
Genres: Action, Adult, Humor

From the award-winning author of the Wolf of Vanaheim series comes a story about the guy nobody roots for — until now.

Skip Carter isn’t a hero. He’s a former soldier, ex-con, and lifelong screw-up whose only real talent is taking punches and showing up anyway. So when a shady agency offers to rent him out as muscle for supervillains, he figures it’s just another paycheck.

But between ridiculous costumes, insane bosses, and jobs that always end in broken bones, Skip starts to realize the real losers are the guys stuck cleaning up after the chaos. And when a world-ending threat finally hits Skytropolis, he gets one shot to stop being the disposable henchman and start being the man his daughter believes he can be.

Darkly funny, surprisingly heartfelt, and packed with action, Skip Carter, Henchman for Hire is for anyone who’s ever felt like the sidekick in their own story.

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

Mrs. Fuller glanced down her list. “Okay! Next we have… Mr. Carter.”

Peggy turned around in her chair and locked eyes with me. Her smile wasn’t just excitement. It was encouragement. A silent You can do this.

My chest tightened as I stood, smoothing the front of my suit jacket with sweaty hands. The room stared at me with pure, unfiltered child curiosity. No judgment yet. Just curious attention like they were hoping I might be someone I’m not.

I walked to the front of the classroom, facing a row of small faces that believed adults were all responsible, stable people with their shit together. And I realized, with sudden clarity, that I had no idea what to say.

I opened my mouth but nothing came out.

Awkward, uncomfortable silence stretched. The kind that crawls across your skin and whispers everyone is watching you screw this up.

I cleared my throat and glanced at Dr. Ramirez. He studied me like he was trying to place how he knew me from his emergency room.

“Uh. Hi, kids.”

A few of them waved like I was a minor celebrity. Someone whispered something and giggled.

“My name is Skip Carter. I’m Peggy’s dad.”

Peggy sat up straighter at that. Pride radiated off her like a heat lamp.

“I, uh… I used to be in the military.” That part was safe and true. Technically documented despite the dishonorable discharge. “And now I work in… private security.”

That sounded boring enough to pass. Mrs. Fuller nodded approvingly.

Jayden, the dog lover, raised his hand immediately. “Do you protect people?”

Every instinct screamed at me to lie. To say yes. To let that be the end of it. Protecting people was clean. Simple. Noble.

Instead, honesty slipped out like a bad habit.

“Not really,” I said.

Jayden frowned with confusion. “So then what do you do?”

I choked a little. “I… help make sure certain situations go the way they’re supposed to.”

That felt vague enough to dodge the truth while still being technically accurate. I had spent years perfecting that skill.

A girl with neat, black braids and a pink sweater raised her hand. “Do you stop bad guys?”

“No,” I said, and immediately regretted it. “I mean, sometimes other people stop them.”

She also frowned like I’d just told her Santa wasn’t real.

Another hand shot up. “Do you stop burglars from stealing stuff?”

I shook my head. “No.”

The kids started exchanging confused looks. The magic was leaking out of the room.

From the back, a voice cut through the air. “My mom says he’s a henchman.”

Some of the kids immediately giggled.

I looked toward the sound. It was Billy from next door. He was wearing a Captain Justice T-shirt and a smug expression. The kind of kid who repeated adult conversations without understanding why they hurt.

Peggy whipped around in her seat. “Shut up, Billy!”

Mrs. Fuller stepped forward. “Billy, that’s not appropriate–”

Billy wasn’t done. “She says henchmen work for supervillains and help them hurt people.”

Every pair of eyes swung back to me.

I felt heat crawl up my neck, into my face. The suit suddenly felt too tight.

Peggy stood up in her seat. “My dad knows all the superheroes!”

That part was technically true. Unfortunately.

Billy smirked. “Then does he know Captain Justice?”

I exhaled slowly. “Yeah,” I said. “I know Captain Justice.”

Billy’s eyes lit up. “Is he awesome in real life?”

I thought about Captain Justice and all the times he had knocked out my friends. About him swooping in to stop us even when the jobs were small. About the time he punched a henchman who was injured and trying to surrender.

“He’s kind of a blowhard,” I said.

Author Bio:

J. Von Swan is the award-winning author of the Wolf of Vanaheim series. He retired from law enforcement as a Sergeant in 2024 after the birth of his first daughter. During his career, he served on both the SWAT team and the mental health unit, experiences that now influence his writing and dark sense of humor. He now writes full-time and instructs law enforcement part-time at the community college.

J. Von Swan lives in Colorado with his family, where he spends his time enjoying the outdoors and imagining dragons that still need slaying.

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Where Dragons Are Captured


How much would you wager to save a dragon?

Your safety, your friends, your people?

How about your life?


Where Dragons Are Captured

Where Dragons Are Book 1

by Fran Zuid

Genre: Epic Grimdark Dragon Fantasy Adventure



How much would you wager to save a dragon? Your safety, your friends, your people? How about your life?

Skye, an alitur—elf as the small-minded humans would degrade her—is a gambler hiding in the skin of her enemy to escape capture, her past and her true identity.

However, her fragile safety shatters when she’s caught cheating. Thrown into the corrupt world of gambling, where animals and creatures are pitted against one another for sport, Skye witnesses something she thought long extinct: dragons.

Determined to save and connect with the dragons, Skye is drawn into a web of deceit, loyalty, and love, impelling her to face her past and reclaim her heritage.

With unlikely allies, Skye must confront the soul-devouring priestesses and their ruthless general, One-Eye-Nic, before the last dragons—and her own soul—are lost forever.

This is an enthralling tale of lies, rebellion, and the price of freedom…


**NEW RELEASE!**

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The girl showed up with their tankards and a jug of homebrew. The man’s attention went straight to her cleavage. The hairy man pinched her behind for good measure before tipping her. Skye used the distraction to nick a card from the pack, a prince, hiding it in her coat sleeve. She waited for the girl to leave before dealing. The cards were soft, faded, and stained from nights of gambling.

Skye watched the three players as they scrutinized their cards. ‘Stupid’ smiled, Sid’s left eye twitched. The hairy man downed his tankard of homebrew.

Skye looked at her cards, she had two of pawns and a prince. On the table were a five and a seven of shields, a castle, and a three of pawns. Skye wasn’t sure what ‘Stupid’ thought he had, but Skye was pretty sure Sid had a castle, giving him the highest pair from the table.

Skye’s attention turned to the hairy man. The more she watched him, the more he seemed a ‘Stupid’ and in that case, no threat to Skye. He was only lucky with the previous hand.

Skye had the winning hand if she switched her two of pawns for the prince in her sleeve. ‘Stupid’ started the bets, throwing half his coin in, four silvers. Sid saw the bet and the hairy man added a silver.

She didn’t want to chase away Sid, so she also raised with only a silver coin. Keep it modest, keep it moving.

As the bets evened out around the table, Skye shifted her weight slightly and slid one hand under the edge of her sleeve. A quiet motion, a simple flick. She switched her cards—replacing a dud with a prince. Now she had two.

But just as her fingertips closed over the edge of the second card, a hand clamped down on her shoulder.

Steel. Not touch. Not pressure. Just steel.

“That is enough. We know what you are,” a male voice said. “Good call, Jim, you will get your reward. And you,” the man’s grip tightened slightly, “Finn Skylar, just won yourself a meeting with the gambler’s guild.”

Her heart jumped. Breath caught halfway up her throat. The hairy man had a smug cat-smile. He’d caught his mouse.

Her gut twisted. A setup. She should’ve seen it. Should’ve felt it. No wonder he was unreadable—he wasn’t here to play. He was here for her. Cold flooded her limbs.

What did they know? That she was a cheater? A woman? An alitur?

Or all three?

She relaxed her face into neutrality, but her mind raced. Could she run? No. Not yet. Too many eyes, too close to the table. No one had drawn steel, which meant they still wanted her alive—questioned, not killed. Yet.

“What? You have nothing to say?” the hairy man–Jim–said. He leaned over and took Skye’s tankard of homebrew and downed it. “Cheers.”

Skye didn’t answer. She reached down, slow and measured, and picked her tricorne up off the floor. Her hat was just fabric—but it made her feel armed. Steady. Like herself.

She rose to her feet.

“I don’t know what this guy told you,” Skye gestured towards Jim, “but I didn’t cheat. I haven’t seen him before in my life.” She truly hoped that was the only reason they were confronting her.

The house-muscle behind Skye chuckled, or that was what she assumed the rumbling noise was.

“We have been watching, and you have an appointment with the gambling guild.”

“No one told me,” Skye said with a shrug.

“I did. Just now.”

Skye looked over her shoulder at the house-muscle looming over her. Tall. Broad shoulders. A scar cut down his right temple, hugging the cheekbone like a crack in old stone. His stance was heavy, but not rooted. A bit off balance. Good.

The short one would be slower, maybe better in a brawl, but easy to outmaneuver. The tall one could be clumsy. The real problem was her coat—it would get in the way if she had to move fast. If she had to fight.

But—

She ran through options. Surrender. Fight. Flee. None was good. She shifted her weight, breath held shallow in her chest.

“Where is this meeting?” Skye asked.

“At the boss’s office, at the pits,” the tall one answered.

Skye scanned the room. No escape. Everyone watched. Waited. Sid had crushed his cards in his hands. Only Jim kept drinking, he found his entertainment for the night.

“I don’t go to the pits,” Skye said.

The tall one rumbled again from behind, “I don’t care, you are going.”

The room inhaled.

Jim smirked at Skye and lifted his tankard off the table. With a flick and a flash of her hand, a knife plunged into Jim’s eye.

Gasps.

The cup fell, and Jim followed. 





Fran Zuid lives in a village on the outskirts of Cape Town, South Africa, with two dogs and four parrots (her personal dragons, without the fire-breathing part—which is a bonus). If she is not submerged in a creative fantasy world, or playing old games, she is fiddling in her garden, sipping wine at a vineyard or conquering a hiking trail somewhere—that is, if her “dragons” allow it.

Where Dragons Are Captured is her debut novel.

 

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Dragons of Mu


The Eternals, a non-magical woman as the Chosen One, Marfóir, and her best friend join in the battle to slay the most evil dragon on earth who’s plan is to take over the world.


Dragons of Mu

by Pamela Ackerson

Genre: Epic Fantasy Adventure


Drakine is rising. The only hope is the hero no one expected.

One non-magical woman is the Chosen One. Destiny won’t wait. With her fiercely loyal friend, Lottie, by her side, and Blaze’s army behind her, Amy is thrust into a war against the most evil dragon ever to preside over the dragon realm on the Island of Mu. A creature whose heinous ambition is nothing less than total annihilation of the mortal world and complete global domination.

To survive, they must fight the ancient powers and unite the fractured kingdoms. The Island of Mu is burning… and only she can turn the tide. Grab your copy today.

 

**Releases June 26th – PreOrder Now for Only .99cents!**

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She rubbed the back of her head, felt a small lump, and winced. Her head was throbbing. Her knee was yelling at her and now she heard angry, men’s voices.

One of them yelled, “Over there! There she is. Get her!”

Another pulled out a long knife and they ran toward her.

Amy rushed into the woods. Turning around, she could see they were catching up to her.

Up, Amy, up. They won’t be looking up.

She climbed an oak tree as high as she could. Pulling on the long skirt, she squatted on a branch.

The branch felt odd and slithered underneath her. A large, looming face in the shape of a dragon stared at her unblinking.

Holy cr—

The creature put a long claw to its mouth and said, “Shhh.”

Amy took a deep breath. A scream was building inside her but before she could release the ear-piercing screech, she was muzzled by the creature. Her heart jolted as its wing enveloped her and she lost consciousness.

A few moments later, she was gulping for air. Fully expecting to open her eyes and see the hotel lobby, she was stunned to be staring into the eyes of a dragon.

–A dragon, a huge dragon with big, green eyes.

You’re safe.

Amy shook her head. “No. No, I’m not. There’s no okay in this, whatever this is at all. This is crazy. Why is this happening?”

Where did you come from?

She stared at his mouth. It wasn’t moving.

This hallucination was freaking weird. A talking dragon that didn’t move his lips. They’re going to take her away and leave her in the psych ward for the rest of her life.

Her eye began twitching. It wasn’t real. None of it makes sense.

Think, Amy. Dragons aren’t real. How could a dragon talk?

Anything can happen in a hallucination. She repeated to herself. This isn’t real.

Was she dead? Is this purgatory? Her own personal nightmare of an afterlife? Could she have injured herself so badly that she died?

She wasn’t a bad person. It certainly wasn’t in Hades. Well, it better not be Hades.

A talking, psychic dragon communicating with his mind.

Of course, it makes soooo much more sense.

She watched as the men ran into the woods, searching for her.

The dragon spoke in a deep, soothing voice, “Why are you dressed in that garb?”

Amy stared at the huge beast.

The beast’s green eyes penetrated her with a questioning glare.

“A— a party. We were going to a party.”

He looked at the bracelet.

“Someone put them in my shopping bag.”

“Let’s go. We need to get you into normal clothing. I’ll take you to Bev’s.”

Amy started climbing down the tree.

“No, no.” The dragon grabbed her and placed Amy on his back before taking flight.

Amy squealed, inhaled and released another louder scream.

“Stop.” His body jolted. “Your obnoxious squawking is impaling my ears.”

Within a few moments, they soared through the air and flew from cloud to cloud.

Her stomach flipped and she swallowed the huge lump in her throat.

“Ugh, no ups and downs, please.”

He laughed. “No quick drops? You’re the slow-boat kind of person.”

Her heart was finally returning to its normal beat. She was getting comfortable riding on his back and was beginning to enjoy the view.

“Whoa! This is awesome. I never have flying dreams.”

The dragon huffed.

Amy was mesmerized. It was freaking fantastic. The warm heat from the sun and soft air on her face, the flapping of his wings, it was glorious.

She could do this. It was peaceful. He was gliding along and she was euphoric.

Hold on.

“Hold on? No, don’t ruin the moment!”

The dragon took a deep dive. Amy let out an earsplitting shriek and gripped the back of his neck tighter as he gracefully landed on the ground in front of a small, wooden cabin.

He grunted in pain.

“Your fingernails are cutting into my skin.”

“Sorry.” Amy dismounted him like she would a horse.

“You don’t look like you’re sorry.”

She gave him an angry side-eye.

He grumbled, “Go. Tell her I sent you.”

“Um. You want me to knock on a stranger’s door, in the middle of BFE, and tell her a dragon sent me?”

 “We’re not in Egypt.”

She snapped, “What? We’re in the middle of freaking nowhere. That’s what BFE means!”

Ignoring her irritation, he responded, “We’re in Ireland.”

 “Ireland? I’ve never been to Ireland. How am I dreaming that I’m here? I’ve only seen pictures and this in not anything like the pictures.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine. I don’t have a passport with me!”

She rubbed her forehead. Why would she need a passport in a dream?

“No worries.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “I’ll be back in a blink. In the meantime, tell her Blaze sent you.”

“Oh, look. A fairy circle.”

His wide-eyed, incredulous stare gave her pause. He shook his head. “Wow.”

She shrugged.

“I can’t keep up with you.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot. My mind goes really fast sometimes.” She limped toward the fairy circle.

“What are you doing?”

Amy chuckled. “Making a wish.”

He looked at her like she was growing horns.

“Um, yeah. Make a wish and the fairies will grant it only if they see fit. You have to watch out for all the fairies protecting the fairy circle. You don’t want to step on them, you know.”

Amy stepped back from the circle. “Hello, little fairies. I hope you’re having a pleasant day.”

He harrumphed and walked away.

“Hey, it’s my dream. I can do what I want.”

Amy raised her hand to knock, but never made contact. An elderly woman, in her mid-seventies, opened the door.

“Oh, I thought I heard Blaze’s voice.”

“I’m Amy. He told me to tell you—”

The woman opened the door wider. “Come in. The sun’s going to be setting soon and it’ll be a bit chilly.”

The elderly woman had light hair, dark blue eyes, and a wide, pleasant smile. Her hair was rolled up into a bun tucked on the back of her head. Amy’s memories immediately went to the cartoon with the grandma lady who owned the canary, Tweety.

Amy cautiously entered the house and as she turned to look about, a man rushed through the doorway.

He was an average-looking man except for his eyes. They gleamed an effervescent green. The man’s dark hair was a deep contrast to his light skin.

She never cared for the five o’clock shadow but it did do him justice.

“There you are, Blaze.” She handed him a mug.

“Thank you, Bev.”

“Mark on his way?”

“Soon. He has a few things he needs to take care of before he comes.”

Mark? As in Harlow?

Bev turned to Amy. “What would you like, dear? I’ve got some hot tea on the table or, if it pleases, I can pour another draught.”

“T—”

“She needs normal clothes.”

Amy glared at Blaze. “And who are you?”

“I’m the man who saved your skinny bum and brought you here.”

“And how, pray tell, did you do that? A dragon…” Her voice trailed off.

Bev looked puzzled. “So, she’s not from medieval times?”

“No.”

“She didn’t time-travel here?”

“No.”

Time travel? Amy interrupted, “I can speak for myself.”

“Really?” He snorted. “Go ahead, darling, and explain how you got here.”

“Fine. I was at a party.” Amy flipped her hand in the air. “I tucked the jeweled comb in my wig and the next thing I knew, these men attacked me and I’ve been having this dream or possibly been unconscious ever since.”

Blaze sat at the table. “You’re not unconscious.”

“Then you tell me what’s happening.”

Bev took her arm. “Oh, sweetie, it’s been a day for you, hasn’t it? Sit, relax, and have a cuppa. I’ll get you some clothes that should fit you. We’ll get you all sorted out.”

The concern in Bev’s voice was telling.

Wariness clung to Amy as a hesitant smile tugged at her lips, a stark contrast to how she was feeling.

“I don’t need clothes. I just want to wake up.”

Bev asked, “Wake up?”

Blaze waved Bev’s question off and spoke to Amy, “Somehow, you’ve managed to get two very powerful and magical relics to bring you here. People have gone to war to possess the magical comb and bracelet.”

Amy grunted.

“Those men stole the relics to take over Mu and conquer the magical world. They will not hesitate to kill you for them.”

Amy bit her upper lip, repressing a nervous giggle. “Not ruby-red slippers? Will lightning flash from the jewelry when you try to remove it from my hair and wrist? Do I repeat ‘there’s no place like home’ three times?”

Blaze glowered. “I don’t find your sarcasm amusing.”

She removed the jeweled comb and handed it to Blaze. “Here. Take it.”

Bev glared at Blaze and tapped Amy’s hand. “Blaze can get you back to where you belong and to your party whenever you’re ready.”

“Good.” Amy put her wrist toward Blaze. “I’m more than ready.”

Blaze reached to take the bracelet off her wrist. “It won’t come off.”

Bev put her hand to her chest. “What?”

Amy’s voice shook in panic. “No, no, take it off!”

“It won’t come off.”

“Fine, then I’ll do it.”

She fiddled with the clasp and finally threw up her hands in frustration. “It won’t come off!”

Bev walked over to the cabinet and brought back a bottle of Irish whiskey and three glasses, and said, “It has begun.”

 




Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Wall Street Journal bestselling, award-winning author, Pamela Ackerson is a time traveling adventurer. She was born and raised in Newport, RI where history is a way of life. She lives on the Space Coast of Florida where everyone is encouraged to reach for the stars!

Her literary journey is as diverse and adventurous as the time-traveling escapades she writes about. With a rich tapestry of genres at her fingertips, she weaves stories that span from the wild frontiers of the Old West to the intricate cultural tapestries of Native American history. Her work doesn’t stop at fiction; she delves into the realms of history, self-help, and even marketing, showcasing a versatility that resonates with a wide audience.

Ackerson’s presence on the Space Coast of Florida reflects her forward-thinking approach to writing, always aiming for the next big leap in her storytelling odyssey. Her prolific output is a testament to her dedication to her craft, inviting readers to join her in exploring the vast landscapes of human experience and imagination.

Honest reviews of Pamela’s books are always appreciated.

Absolutely no AI programs were used to create any story she has written.

Thank you and have a good moments day.

 

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City at the Edge of Time


Stuck at the very end of time.

If you love gritty dark fantasy, epic mythical battles, and ancient gods interfering with mortals, you need to check out City at the Edge of Time by Janet and Chris Morris!


City at the Edge of Time

Sacred Band Series Book 5

by Janet & Chris Morris

Genre: Epic Heroic Fantasy Adventure



“An exciting and brilliantly colored sortie . . .” – David Drake

Join Tempus and Niko on the triple shores of land, sea, and eternity . . .
Where a young girl trembles between love and sorcerous obsession . . .
Where a prince’s refusal to admit his flaws makes him a pawn of hell . . .
Where a city of immortals learn that Death has not forgotten it . . .
In the catacombs beneath a warlock’s citadel, swords and courage face the jaws of demons — with a girl’s life and a god’s vengeance resting on the outcome.

 

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A red cloud rising out of the east was borne seaward on a hungry wind that howled like a devil. It was a hot cloud, a wet cloud full of the promise of rain, and yet it shed no drop on the forest below. It spread across the wilderness without end, a cloud like a funnel, a cloud like a waterspout turned on its side.

It crossed the scorched earth between the forest and the city on the coast, low to the ground and howling. Then it arched up like a striking snake, a hissing serpent that ate the sky and reared high over the city’s walls.

By then no one walked the city streets. Everywhere the city’s folk had fled indoors, even from the courtyards of the king. No peltast stirred on the battlements; no sentry held his ground. From within the walls of the palace, men peered out through slits at the unnatural red storm.

Women held each other in their boudoirs, and children sheltered under mothers’ skirts. Noise went everywhere, carried on a wet and flailing wind that made hairs stand up on arms and necks and dogs scramble under sturdy beds to whine.

Macon was in his father’s stables with his sister Tabet when the maelstrom started; and there he stayed, working with the grooms to calm the horses, lest one break a leg rearing and kicking. Among horses, as men, hysteria travels fast.




Don’t miss the rest of the Sacred Band Series!

The Sacred Band of Stepsons series is Homeric and heroic fiction following the exploits of an ancient cavalry unit modeled on the Sacred Band of Thebes. Deftly mixing history, myth, and fantasy, Morris’ Sacred Band of Stepsons live and die in a world where gods are real and magic works — sometimes.

Morris’ accursed cavalry commander, Tempus, first appeared Sacred Band first appeared in the million-selling Thieves’ world shared-universe in 1981. Subsequently, Janet Morris, first alone and subsequently with her husband Chris Morris, take the Sacred Band into their own series of novels, set in the fourth century BCE. Passionate, gritty, lyrical prose and unforgettable characters make this series. Perseid Press Sacred Band novels includes the “Author’s Cut” of the Beyond Sanctuary Trilogy and Tempus, as well as the epic novel The Sacred Band, and The Fish the Fighters and the Song-girl.

 

Find them at Perseid Press



Best selling author Janet Morris began writing in 1976 and published more than 30 novels, many co-authored with her husband Chris Morris or others. Most of her fiction work was in the fantasy and science fiction genres, although she also wrote historical and other novels. Morris either wrote, contributed to, or edited several book-length works of non-fiction, as well as papers and articles on nonlethal weapons, developmental military technology and other defense and national security topics.

 

Christopher Crosby Morris (born 1946) is an American author of fiction and non-fiction, as well as a lyricist, musical composer, and singer-songwriter. He is married to author Janet Morris. He is a defense policy and strategy analyst and a principal in M2 Technologies, Inc. He writes primarily as Chris Morris, but occasionally uses pseudonyms.

 

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Broken Wings

Broken Wings
Miloa Scape
Publication date: April 7th 2026
Genres: Fantasy, Steampunk

When a city begins to fall, the truth rises.

On her tenth birthday, Marty Oakley expects comfort and celebration, not a city tearing itself apart. As Velarisca trembles and steam-powered defenses spiral out of control, Marty flees through chaos with her father, only to discover he is not who she believed him to be.

With the city collapsing around them, long-buried secrets surface and a hidden legacy awakens. Caught in a conspiracy stretching from the depths below to the skies above, Marty must face truths no child should ever carry, or lose everything she loves.

Broken Wings is a heartfelt steampunk fantasy prequel filled with wonder, danger, and unexpected adventure.

Broken Wings is now on Kickstarter!

—

Some truths are inherited. Some are stolen. Others wait quietly, buried so deep that only loss knows how to uncover them.

The world teaches obedience first. Then fear. Then silence. Breaking the pattern was never part of the design.

Get a FREE CHAPTER here!

—

Why the kickstarter collector’s edition is special.

This is not just a book. It’s the beginning.

Broken Wings is a 20,000 word prequel novella and the very first story in the Enchanted Skies universe. It introduces Marty at age ten and her father who tried to protect her from a truth that was always going to catch up.

This edition will never be sold through retailers. It is only available through this Kickstarter, and later Miloa’s direct store. No algorithms. No middlemen. Just readers who chose to be here from the start.

Backers of this campaign will have their names printed in the book as founding readers, permanently recorded as the ones who helped this world take its first breath.

Visit the KICKSTARTER HERE!


Author Bio:

Miloa Scape is a speculative fiction author writing genre-blending stories that combine fantasy, science fiction, and steampunk with a strong emphasis on found family and character-driven storytelling. With an engineering background and extensive gaming experience, she brings a systems-focused approach to worldbuilding and narrative structure. Her debut project, Broken Wings, introduces a steampunk-inflected world that serves as the foundation for a larger speculative fiction series in development.

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#Adult, #Adventure, #Fantasy, #Steampunk,

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I’m a Mom, a Grandmom, and a Veteran. Nothing scares me! That’s the saying on my favorite T Shirt. I’m enjoying life too much to let the little things slow me down. If you can’t tell from my Avatar, I live in Florida where I enjoy the sunshine and endure the hurricanes with good grace. Sometimes you have to take the bad with the good!

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