GtPGKogPYT4p61R1biicqBXsUzo" /> Google+ WIP it Real Good: Faith Hunter shares an excerpt from a future short story! + giveaway | I Smell Sheep

Sunday, January 10, 2021

WIP it Real Good: Faith Hunter shares an excerpt from a future short story! + giveaway

Faith Hunter shares an excerpt from a short story coming out in November 2021!

Hi all!

Thanks for having me at I Smell Sheep!

The “sheeply people” wanted to know if I had something new in the works, and I do! In fact, I have two.

I have a snippet from the anthology in Dirty Deeds, and below that a totally new snippet from a short story I wrote while I was in Ireland. The brand new short was mostly penned (by hand, on a spiral pad) on the train between Dublin and Galway. It was a lovely trip, and the Hubs and I talked, studied the scenery, listened to accents, and I wrote. Apparently, I wrote enough to end up with a short story, to be released in November 2021 in another anthology titled Of Claws And Fangs

The story came about because I was wondering about and doodling with Nell’s very ancient ancestry, where people like her might have come from. I had always thought it should be Ireland, and it is. And I love it!

And now, the new story, "Call For My Bones," from Of Claws and Fangs  
“Come,” she whispered. “My visions are ended.” Her voice was a croak, weakened by age, by the years of calling her people together, and by the smoke and fire that was the center of their tribe. Smoke and fire meant life and it was ever and always with them: the smoke of cooking fires, the smoke of preserving meat, the fire that warmed their circles, trapped in the thatch, the smoke of mating as the flames leaped high, the smoke and ash of hunting images and the painting of their bodies, and the smoke of the gatherings. After so many years, the smoke had darkened her brown skin and had left her hoarse, her voice rough, dry, and weak. 

But it was the visions of the Vision Moon that brought the tears to her old eyes. It was the visions that had broken her, had broken her voice as she screamed and grieved. 

She had hoped to survive until the First Gather of the new year, that first mating moon, when her great-great-great granddaughter would choose her first man from among the clan-less Hunters. She had hoped to pass her staff to the Birther of its choice at spring’s First Gather festival. Old Mother of Winter Trees had hoped so many things. Desperately, fervently hoped for another cycle, another gather. 

Most importantly, she had hoped to deliver a different vision from the one she had been given. But it was not to be. 

She tried again to call, but instead, coughed, the sound a wet rumble in her chest. A horrible tearing pain. She rolled to her side and coughed, a racking spasm. She spat out the contents blocking her lungs and there was blood in the gobbet. The visions were true. Sun and Moon, she thought, the visions are true. The coughing fit left her exhausted. She lay in her bear fur, trembling, but breathing better, regaining her strength. Outside, winter sleet fell on the thatch above her. It shushed and sang against the stones of the Womb Circle. The cold had come early, just as her visions had foretold. 

When a measure of strength had returned, Old Mother slid her fingers from the warm furs and found the small stone. It was her calling stone, and was perfectly fitted to her hand. With it, she tapped on the Stone of Winter, a clear tone which would call the women to her. 

Moments later, a thread of cold air swirled through the smoke as the outer-hide-cover slid aside, allowing two women to crawl into the Womb Passage and across the ancient staffs embedded in the clay floor. The Womb Passage was the symbol of mating and birthing and death. Each time they crawled through the narrow passage, their fingers and knees on the staffs of the previous Old Mothers, it was a reminder of their ways. It was a reminder of who they were and what they were. 

The outer hide closed against the winter air. Then the inner-hide-cover opened and the air shivered with cold, the low flames rushing with the delight of mating and joy, of life and death. 

“Old Mother of Winter Trees,” her daughter, Spring Blossoms, said with the proper ceremony of the Vision Moon, “and Staff Bearer of the Women. How may we serve you?” 

Her words carrying the weight of decades and many Vision Moons, Old Mother gave the ceremonial reply, “The Vision Moon has spoken its wisdom to me. My vision is true.” 

“Yes, Old Mother of Winter Trees,” the two women said softly, together.

Below you will find an excerpt from my short story "Bound into Darkness," from Dirty Deeds and the world of Jane Yellowrock, from point of view of a witch named Liz Everhart and Eli Younger. I had a ball writing this story, and I might yet do more from their Point of View. Who knows? 

Thank for having me! Dirty Deeds is up for preorder!


Dirty Deeds: An Urban Fantasy Collection
by Devon Monk, Diana Pharaoh Francis, Faith Hunter, R.J. Blain
January 12th 202
Genres: Adult, Urban Fantasy
When the going gets tough, the tough get their hands dirty. Join NY Times Bestselling author Faith Hunter, USA Today Bestselling author R.J. Blain, and National Bestselling authors Diana Pharaoh Francis and Devon Monk on a wild romp where the damsels bring the distress and what can go wrong will go wrong.

Venture into a thrilling spinoff tale from the world of Jane Yellowrock; join vacationing gods in what appears to be a quiet, ordinary town; visit a supernatural hotel where the bedbugs could very well eat you; and dive into the zany, deadly world of the Magical Romantic Comedy (with a body count) series.

In this collection of all-new urban fantasy novellas and other stories, no job is too big or too small — if the price is right.

"Bound into Darkness," from Dirty Deeds and the world of Jane Yellowrock, from point of view of a witch named Liz Everhart and Eli Younger.

Liz pulled on all her knowledge of demon lore which was pitifully small. The demon was either a fire demon, partially trapped and tied to the cave and the leyline, or the skeleton buried in the cave had been a fire practitioner, one that had been tied to the demon either through possession, or through becoming a sacrifice. Not many fire witches survived to adulthood. When they came into their powers, they usually burned themselves up—spontaneous human combustion—or set their family on fire and had to be put down. But the body in the cave had been adult-sized. 

In the woods, back along its trail, along the path of the faint green binding, another dead tree went up in flame. 

Eli asked, “Can you alter the hedge to resist high temps?” 

“Maybe. But that means it’ll burn through my reserves faster.” 

“How do we kill it?” 

“You don’t kill demons. Impossible.” 

“Jane did.” Jane. Not Janie. Maybe Jane when he was talking about the warrior, Janie when he was talking about his adopted sister? It was cute how he divided up the two parts of her. 

Liz released Eli’s hand. Jane the warrior had killed her sister, Evangelina, and the demon Evie had called. Or rather, had bound the demon back into hell. Either way, the important part was that Jane had killed Evie. That should have been the coven’s job, but they hadn’t been willing enough to kill their sister, or powerful enough to stop the demon. And killing Evie had proved beyond any doubt that an Everhart had called the demon to the earth. That act had destroyed Liz’s coven, wreaked havoc on her family, tarnished their rep in the witch community, and shattered her faith in the older sister she had revered. And even though Liz knew—with the rational part of herself— that Jane had done the only thing she could to stop the evil of Evangelina, there was a small, mean, little part of her soul that hated Jane for that. The rest of her feelings were still a mishmash of anger, sorrow, grief, and worthlessness, unable to fix anything her sister had done.

About the Author: 
Award-winning, New York Times, and USA Today bestselling author Faith Hunter has 40+ books in print under the names Gary Hunter, Gwen Hunter, and Faith Hunter. As Faith, she writes three fantasy bestselling series: the urban fantasy / paranormal Jane Yellowrock series and the Soulwood series, and most recently, the bestselling sci-fi Junkyard Cats series. 

The Jane Yellowrock series features a Cherokee skinwalker who hunts rogue-vampires, and the Soulwood series, featuring earth magic user Nell Ingram, is a paranormal series set in the Yellowrock world.

Her Rogue Mage novels are a dark, post-apocalyptic fantasy series, featuring Thorn St. Croix, a stone mage. The role-playing game based on the series, is ROGUE MAGE, RPG.

Tour-wide giveaway (INT)
$50 Amazon gift card


  1. This sounds like a great read.

  2. Great cover, vivid colors that are eye catching.

  3. Cool Cover. Great excerpt. Thank's for sharing.

  4. This sounds so cool. There is only one author that I don't already follow.

  5. I like the cover, synopsis and excerpt, this sounds like an awesome read. Thank you for sharing the book and authors' details

  6. Thanks for being on the tour! :)

  7. Sounds great! Looking forward to it!

  8. The book sounds great and I love the cover.

  9. Love the cover and already preordered Dirty Deeds.

  10. This sounds like a good anthology

  11. This sounds like an enjoyable read!

  12. Interesting cover! The colors are amazing.