Road to Justice is my first ever publication in a magazine. You can find the short story on Arena Fantasy Magazine website by clicking on this picture. Obviously, this was part of a competion, but as the magazine is in it’s staring phase there wasn’t a high number of entires. I managed to be the only one sending my story. While exploring an abandoned rubbish dump location off the coast, a young boy discovers an ancient sword. Editors remarks: This story is a different viewpoint on the rag to riches trope, with a touch of Arthurian legend. A very well written story and you end up feeling for the character. This story could easily be part one of a full-blown fantasy novel. Keep an eye on Victoria Liiv definitely one to watch for the future.
Sir Hugh Charles Clifford’s Badge of Honour Burn it, bury it, leave it in the past or sell it! Isobel Clifford would do anything to get rid of the last family heirloom and get on with her life. Isobel Clifford clacked into the ‘Spray & Display’ paint shop on her Gucci high heels, carrying a Prada handbag and wearing a red Valentino minidress. Among other things, the shop had services for metal polishing, paint restoration and cleaning up trinkets and jewelry, their website announced. Isobel didn’t need a paint job, her Lamborghini always looked new. She’d come there for a family heirloom from the 1880’s that belonged to her great, great,… great grandfather, Sir Hugh Charles Clifford. She should have gotten the courier to handle this, but surely, she could do a simple drop off. Besides, she couldn’t trust an errand-boy with something as valuable as her great, great,… great grandfather’s badge of honour, something only very few were ever granted – or so Isobel liked to believe. Sir Hugh Clifford had been a British colonial administrator, a high position, no doubt about it. Their family prestige still revolved around his accomplishments. Now that Nana had passed away, Isobel was ready to rid herself of the Knight Grand Cross Order her predecessor had been ordained with. Sell it, make some money and never hear the name Hugh Clifford again. Growing up in that household had been a total nightmare. “You’ll never live up to the Clifford name if you slump… Read More »Sir Hugh Charles Clifford’s Badge of Honour
I stood in front of the building. Filled with excitement and dread. This was it. This was the place where the clan lived. What if they didn’t like me, doesn’t accept me? What if they saw me as a weak link? ‘Stop that, Victoriel, you are going to be just fine!’ I encouragd myself. ‘Like you have always been. Go on and knock.’ I took a slow step towards the door, but did not knock. I just stared at the worn handle, that’d seen all of those people already and felt their touch as they entered their home. I stared at the patterns on the door, and the craving above it, that said I’m in the right place. If only I would knock. I thought about turning back, just because was too scared to make the first step, going back and wondering the world alone, like I’m used to. The way of life that was already familiar to me. That I did not like that much, but was my comfort zone. ‘Stop being such a little girl!’ I told myself. ‘You are a warrior!’ I was not a warrior, though. I was not a wizard, I was not a knight. I wasn’t anything, really. Not a healer and not much of a fighter, either, even though I’ve been trained in both. And that was what scared me the most. I tried to calm my melancholy thoughts, they’ve never been of use to me, and they definitely didn’t help me now. I raised my hand to knock instead, but the door already… Read More »Mongolhorde stories
Chuck Tucker investigations The Club Shooting The beat was sick and the crowd wild. I might’ve had one too many shots, but it didn’t matter when the stunning blonde ran her hands down my chest. We were crammed up against the bar with a bunch of other partygoers, most of them pissed off drunk or on their way to it. I’d ordered her a cocktail, but she was already slurring her words before I squeezed in next to her. A couple of compliments and suggestive comments later and she was leaning into me. Not my usual type, but she was hot as fuck and I didnt bother to care about the rest when she bit down on my earlobe. Fuck. I pulled her closer to me, letting her know exactly what I thought of her sneaky tongue and soft lips sucking on my neck. Her breasts pressed up against my chest were probably fake, but that ass I was gripping was perfectly firm, perfection. It was my day off, nothing to stop me from having some much needed release. The local club, Wicked Angels, was as good a place as any to find what I needed and the woman writhing against me was ready to give it. There were too many people around. Drunk or not, this wasn’t the place to continue our introductions. She seemed to be on the same page, because as her hands roamed around my chest, her lips uttered exactly what I was thinking. “Let’s get… Read More »Chuck Tucker investigations