Lantern Leaf Press

Voyages Into The Fantastic

Tag: burgundy graves

A Sneak Peek at Surfaeillance 3


As you may have noticed by now, Surfaeillance 3 has not been the most cooperative of its fellows. It’s been through alteration after alteration, some big, some small. . . at this point I think I’m working on something like version #4. But I’m happy to announce that the story is finally sticking.

One of the biggest challenges in this particular installment has been getting Burgundy to navigate the weirdness that is “beginning a friendship” with her coworker Myron. It doesn’t help that Burgundy has almost no social skills, and Myron tends to withdraw rather than express. Somedays I find myself in the corner with the pixie making sarcastic comments and trying to figure out how to make them talk to each other.

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Excerpt from The Mirror Knife

Hello, all! Here is one of my favorite scenes from The Mirror Knife. This particular scene involves Burgundy taking her pixie and current client (a tiny, hunted fairy named Fly) to a faery black market to try to uncover some information.


   I opened my eyes to see the familiar rows of booths, tents, and haggling fairies. A tall female fairy on guard duty glided forward and looked me straight in the eye. “Can I help you?” she asked. She stood as tall as me, and her voice was husky and clearly suspicious. Her gaze travelled to my shoulder. “Two visitors?”

   “Three. Surfaeillance business,” I replied. Silence rippled out from where I was standing. Then the talk began again, but in hushed tones.

   The fairy arched a perfect eyebrow. “Really?” The slender vine in her dark curls wound tighter, obviously disappointed that it didn’t get to attack an intruder. She turned away in a rustle of gypsy skirts and vanished into a shrub.

   “Hang on,” I said, poking at the bush. “Where’s Saunders hanging out these days?”

   The branches rustled and the fairy peered out at me, her brown eyes turning green. “Why?” she asked.


   She sniffed. “Third tent from the end. Red curtains.” The leaves swished shut in my face.

   Fairies. I plunged into the sea of tents, hoping to keep my sense of direction. The interiors of the booths glittered with glass jars, amber-colored lamps, and all sorts of human-made junk. One fellow was even trying to sell broken washing machines.

   “I am thinking this was a bad idea,” Fly said in my ear. I felt a little hand tug on my hair. “Maybe you should wait here, and I will go find the. . . it.”

   Well, that was new. “You want to risk getting caught again?” I said, turning a corner. I could see the red tent now, at the end of the row. Fly seemed to be getting more and more agitated. I slowed down. “You’ll be fine,” I said. Few fairy criminals would be stupid enough to try anything in the Market, but it paid to be on the safe side. “If you see anything suspicious, let me know. Got it?”

   Fly whimpered a response as we reached the tent. I slid one hand into my coat pocket and stepped up to the counter.

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