The Guardian Cats of New York City: Shin-Nephura’s Neighborhood Now Available for Sale!

Cover with title

Hey, all!

As I mentioned last week, I’m starting to put short stories back up for sale again, and I’m starting by republishing the ones that were published before.  As you can tell from the illustration, the first story to get this treatment is Shin-Nephura’s Neighborhood.  My apologies to the fans of the kittehs, but yes, this does mean that the free version of this story has been taken down from this site.

Take a look at the updated Books page, the brand-new Short Stories page, or Shin-Nephura’s own page.  Or if you’re impatient, just head straight to Amazon or Smashwords to pick yourself up a copy.

To whet your appetite, here’s an excerpt:

It was deep into the night. Even the most cat-spirited of two-legs had finished with eating their burned meats, drinking their mind-fogging poisoned waters, and inhaling their strange-flavored smokes. They had all returned to their dens to mate and to sleep. Only those with no den of their own remained out in the open airs, or those performing some strange human task or other. The great metal serpents still roared in their caves, but their bellies were nearly empty.

It was the time of the Cat.

The cat known to other cats as Shin-Nephura the Gentle, to herself by the secret name no other knew, and to the two-legs as Dodger, was out walking the streets of her domain.

She was known as “the Gentle” because she was affectionate and gracious to the two-legs of her domain, visiting them often and allowing them the liberty of scratching her head and stroking her back once she was sure they belonged. This familiarity had the benefit of teaching her much about the two-legs. For example, she knew that the name they’d given her came from one of those marvelous two-legs stories, and that it was the name of a clever thief. This pleased Shin-Nephura greatly; clever thieves are highly esteemed among cats. Also, many cats who were less in-tune with their two-legs were confused by such habits as putting on obvious mating displays and heat pheromones, but not mating. Shin-Nephura understood that the mating ritual of the two-legs was simply much longer and more complex than that of cats.

Perhaps most importantly, she had learned the names with which the two-legs marked her territory. Two streets marked the boundaries of her territory, and she lived where they came together. Their names were “Seaman Avenue” and “Dyckman Street”. For some reason, the two-legs seemed to find this funny.

She had a family of two-legs that she stayed with, who fed her and tended her hurts and stood as her companions. But unlike many cats that shared nearby dens with the two-legs, Shin-Nephura did not content herself with enjoying their companionship, playing and taking the food they gave her. She kept to the old Compact: “You will shelter us, feed us, and care for us in our illness and injury. You will honor us and give us good company. In exchange, we will protect you from the rodents that eat and foul your food, the insects that trouble you and bring disease, and the darker things that come out of the night.”

During the day, Shin-Nephura guarded the food place that her two-legs ran (in her clever listening, she had learned the words “corner bodega”).

By night, she walked a patrol.

She’d finished checking the courtyard and was just returning to the Corner Bodega when she stopped, ears pricked.

“Aaaaaalllleeeee”

Something was coming. Something that raised the fur along her spine and made her claws twitch involuntarily in their sheaths.

“AllEEEEE!”

Closer and louder now. Close and loud enough so that even a two-legs could have heard it. If any two-legs did hear, they would have been disturbed, even frightened, but they wouldn’t know why. Shin-Nephura knew. Whatever was coming was…wrong. It had come from the river – it squished and dripped and splashed with every step, and Shin-Nephura could smell the tidal muds – but it was no right part of the world of cats, birds, mice and two-legs.

It drew closer, and Shin-Nephura finally caught a whiff of something other than the muds.

Rotten meat.

Not like the food the two-legs so wastefully threw away, the meat just moldy or spoiled enough to be flavorful, but the smell of something long dead and decayed.

“aaAAallEEEeee!”

As the dead thing came around the corner and into view, Shin-Nephura’s hackles went all the way up and her claws scraped on the sidewalk.

A two-legs. The dead, lurching, half-rotten thing was a two-legs.

No wise cat wishes to face a two-legs in a straight fight. Slow, clumsy, half-deaf, night-blind, nose-numb, so often strange and silly in their behavior…it was easy to underestimate them. But yet, they were giants. Their strength was immense and their clever forepaws could create horrors. Once a cat was in a solid grip, there was little hope of wriggling free. The best one could hope for was to make the price too high.

“AAAaalleeee”

Still. She had a duty. The ancient compact.

The dead thing was shambling toward the iron gates that led into the courtyard. They were locked, but Shin-Nephura doubted that would be any obstacle. Locks and gates were little use against something like this.

“AAAA—”

“You are not welcome in my territory, dead thing.”

Another Good Step For A Friend

Dubiousbyhabit of Sartorially Smart Heroines (who I will be adding to my link page as soon as I create it) has commissioned another character study of characters from his upcoming novel First Empress.  This time, it’s Pella and Zahnia, two young girls who escape from the setting’s equivalent of mad scientists to join Queen Viarraluca in shaping history.

(I should warn you: as much as I’ve enjoyed the excerpts of First Empress that I’ve been privileged to read, it approaches A Song of Ice and Fire in terms of brutality.  Unlike ASOIAF, the most “moral” character is also the most competent, but even she comes right up to the edge of “Villain Protagonist” territory sometimes.)

(Also, I must say that I’m considering following Dubiousbyhabit’s advice and contacting MJ for some artwork myself.)

Coming This Week

Hey, all.

I know it’s been a while since I delivered any new fiction.  That’s not because I haven’t been working on any.  Quite the opposite!  This week, you get to see what I’ve been working on all this time.

So join me on Thursday for the first chapter of Dreams of the Boardwalk, a fantasy set in the strange and glittering wonderland that is Coney Island.

And yes, when this story is completed, it will be part of Shining Towers, Shadowed Tunnels.

A Good Step For A Friend

Dubiousbyhabit of Sartorially Smart Heroines (which I will be linking here soon, for all that it’s currently on hiatus) is writing a novel called First Empress, a fantasy set in an iron age world.  I’ve been reading and reviewing parts of it, and I highly recommend getting yourself a copy  when it comes out.  I’ll keep you posted on the progress.

In the meantime, Dubious has commissioned a picture of two of the main characters: Queen Viarraluca and her handmaiden and lover, Elissa.

Head on over to Sartorially Smart Heroines and check it out…and while you’re there, keep in mind that Queen Viarra is actually more awesome than she looks in that picture.

Found Stories: The Meat Loaf Album Covers

This story was originally published on my old blog on February 19, 2013.  I include it here partly because I think it’s an interesting meditation on creativity, inspiration and the process of writing…and partly because I really like it and want to share it with a new audience.

As I say on my About page, I’ve always loved the Stories. But here’s the thing about the Stories: they don’t stop. Call it a blessing, call it a curse – I can look at the most unlikely thing and build a story out of it. For example, I’ve built an entire mythos out of Meat Loaf album covers. It’s true. Let me show you what I mean:

meatloaf_bat_out_of_hell
Continue reading “Found Stories: The Meat Loaf Album Covers”

For the Fans

I wasn’t originally planning to post tomorrow’s next story.  It was the last of the “Guardian Cats” stories to be completed, and I’m still not sure that it’s up to the same standard of quality as the others.

But I’ve received such a strong positive reaction to the Guardian Cats series – plus some straightforward requests – that I’ve decided to go ahead and publish that final story (though who knows?  If I keep getting a reaction like the one I’m getting, maybe it won’t be the final Guardian Cats story).  It’s a sad tale, but it honors a cat I knew personally.

Come back tomorrow for Kodama’s Courage.

About the Upcoming Stories

The next three stories are also set in New York, and will almost certainly be included in the Shining Towers, Shadowed Tunnels compilation.  I’m not quite as certain if they’ll be included in my broader New York City mythos, along with the Washington Heights Witches and other NYC supernaturals that I intend to introduce over the course of coming stories.

You see, the Guardian Cats of New York City series was originally inspired by this cartoon from the webcomic Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal:

 

Guardian Cat Source

What if, I wondered, there really was some kind of ancient pact between cats and humanity?  What if they defended us from Dangers Of The Night that might otherwise slip beneath our radar?  Human magic-users and monster hunters might be good at staking vampires and banishing demons, but we won’t notice the rat king in the sewers until the entire town is consumed with pestilence.  We’re good a blocking the punch to the face, but we’d never even notice the bite from the plague-bearing flea until it was far too late.  Thus, the Old Compact with the cats.

I got three good stories out of the idea, but then started to run out of gas.  Cats secretly defending humans from occult threats is an inherently cute idea; I wanted to treat it seriously, but it was resisting.  As for incorporating the Guardian Cats into my NYC mythos with the Rivera family and other characters I have planned, there’s no technical reason why not, I suppose, but it raises difficult questions: are all of the cats in my setting Guardian Cats, or does it take a special breed of cat, like a witch’s familiar or Sailor Moon’s companions?  What about rats (cats’ eternal enemies) or dogs (their reluctantly-accepted comrades in the defense of the two-legs)?  How sapient are they?  Does all of this fit into a world of gritty street-level magic?

Those are questions I need to work on as I compile Shining Towers, Shadowed Tunnels.  Any suggestions are welcome.

In the meantime, tomorrow’s story is the first story in the Guardian Cats series, and the one that establishes the rules.  Come back tomorrow and enjoy Shin-Nephura’s Neighborhood.

The Truth of Rock and Roll is now available at new sellers!

Truth-of-Rock-and-Roll-for-Dreams

Great news!  In addition to being available on Amazon, The Truth of Rock and Roll is now available at Smashwords, Barnes and Noble, iTunes Books, and Kobo!

The fable of courage, youth, and rock & roll magic is now available in almost any format you could imagine!

An Amazon review for The Truth of Rock and Roll:

By Amazon Customer on April 2, 2013

The Truth of Rock and Roll is an astoundingly good novel. It has a unique, yet still familiar premise. It begins with a young man who doesn’t want to go to business school arguing on the phone with his father. After the conversation, a middle-aged man approaches him and begins to talk. The young man stays and listens (against his better instincts) and is treated to a story about youth, love, rebellion, small town prejudice, courage and the magic of rock and roll, which in this story is not just a figure of speech. Rock and roll is literally magical.

The Truth of Rock and Roll is not a long book, nor is it an intensely intellectual read. It can be easily devoured in an hour. Devoured is the right word for how one should read this book though. Keville recently began releasing it in serialized form on his blog in an attempt to simply reach more readers. After just the first section I wanted to buy the book. After the fourth I needed to buy it. The characters had quickly become my friends, people I cared about and wanted to win. I couldn’t escape the story, or the world. It’s the world I want for myself, where life is magic and love conquers all, though not without some serious annoyance along the way. Keville shows his skill in telling a wonderfully cheesy tale while making it new enough and good enough that you don’t care if it’s cheesy or a little old hash.

It’s possible this book appealed to me so much because I grew up in a small town and know all too well the kinds of trials and prejudice Johnny and Jenny (what else would our rock and roll lovebirds be named?) come up against. He’s a rich boy, she’s just white trash from the wrong side of the tracks. It’s the same in Footloose and Grease and The Notebook and thousands of other stories. Yet The Truth of Rock and Roll brings something these other stories don’t. For one, it starts with an old man telling how he threw it all away. It is a testament to Keville’s skill at storytelling that when he gets to the part where Johnny rejects the rock and roll angel (yes, there’s really, seriously a rock and roll angel, and it’s just as awesome as it’s possible to be) we feel cheated. Keville anticipates this perfectly with our young man listener/narrator who interrupts, “You did what?” only to be met with “Hey, kid, I told you early on.” He is correct, but it only serves to make this departure from the standard tale more frustrating. That is not to say it makes it bad. In fact, the story is all the more poignant for it.

The Truth About Rock and Roll is a message to anyone who has ever had a dream, “it’s about rockin’, not remembering.” You don’t have to be a writer, an artist, or a rock and roller to appreciate the message. Dreams are worth fighting for.

Stories From Friends

Hey, all.

As you might suspect, I don’t spend all of my time online here at matthewkeville.com.  One of my favorite places to spend time is at Slacktivist, which I’ll be writing about in more detail soon.

I’m not the only writer or blogger at Slacktivist, so I just thought I’d share a few of the hidden gems I’ve found there.

The first is from a commenter who goes by the handle of “Von Krieger”, and the idea is one I’ve seen before, but never quite this way:

Writing Prompt: Demons are not born, they are made from humans surviving in hell long enough

Warning: possible blasphemy.

The next is The Comforts of Winter by a commenter called AlyceInJeans, which is a spicy, erotic fantasy romance.  If you like it, Alyce tells me that there’s a sequel in the works.

BTW, readers, do any of you know anything about Inkitt?  Should I be trying to post any of my own work there?

And special thanks to the friend from Slacktivist who is the first (that I know of) to put Matthewkeville.com on their blogroll:

Tools of the Trade

 

New Story Up Tomorrow!

Bodega

Coming up tomorrow is Neighborhood Witch, a tale of everyday magic in the Washington Heights neighborhood of New York City.  Like Looking The Other Way, Neighborhood Witch will be part of the upcoming Shining Towers, Shadowed Tunnels short story connection.

Neighborhood Witch, like Looking The Other Way, is based on my own experiences – people I’ve met, places I’ve seen.  They needed a lot less alteration than you might expect to create an urban fantasy story.  There’s magic, both dark and bright, in those streets.

Excerpt:

The witch came out of the corner store with her carton of smokes and her two-liter bottle of Pepsi in a plain black plastic bag.

“Hola, Mami,” one of the old men playing dominos in front of the store greeted her.

“Hola, hola,” she replied.  At seventy-one, he had a good six years on her, but “mami” was a title that honored more than just age.  In fact, she’d earned it through sheer pushiness by the time she was three.

She turned the corner onto 180th street and waved at the local drug dealers before mounting the front steps to her apartment building.  They waved back and shouted their greetings – “Hola, Señora Rivera!” “ ‘Ey, Doña Celia!” – before turning back to the people they were speaking with.

Such nice boys.  Why, she remembered when her elder daughter and her husband had needed to move in with her for a few weeks as part of their move to New York (move back to New York in Aracelli’s case).  Brian – also a nice boy, but ay, such a country mouse!  More than once she’d had to rescue him from con artists or chatty street people – had been a bit intimidated by all of the people sitting on the stoop while he tried to parallel park, but the dealers had coached him through it and then watched the luggage so it didn’t walk away while Brian and Aracelli were moving it from the curb to the apartment.

They weren’t the kind of boys who went shooting at everyone who wore the wrong colors.  They didn’t want trouble.  They just wanted to sell their pot and ecstasy to Columbia students and at all the new clubs opening up in Inwood.  Living in New York meant making such accommodations.

Besides, anyone who was more trouble than that didn’t get to stay in Celia Rivera’s neighborhood very long.