Girls And Aliens by Anne Michaud – Available Now

We are delighted to announce the launch of the first book in Anne Michaud’s trio of collections that put girls and women at the fore of their own stories. 

In the first volume our heroines find themselves face to face with alien forces.

Five Girls, Five Aliens. Five Tales of courage and outer space. In this collection by Anne Michaud the lesson is clear, never underestimate the power and resolve of ordinary women in extraordinary circumstances. 
‘Anne Michaud’s writing is haunting, powerful and often beautiful’ – Amanda Rutter
Fix Six
Stardust Motel
Battlefield Lost
Snakes and Ladders
Mercy’s Morgue

Stories by Anne Michaud
Cover by Daniele Serra
Edited by Amanda Rutter
Formatted by HandEbooks
Cover layout by Vincent Holland-Keen

You can find the paperback and ebook on Amazon worldwide and the ebook in mobi and epub on our own estore.

Amazon UK Paperback

Reviews are always appreciated, even if it’s just a couple of lines.

Starfang Trilogy Cover Reveal

StarFang Volume 1 has been out for a while now, and you should read it because Werewolves in Space!

We decided to release volumes 2 & 3 together this Spring so this is what the trilogy will look like thanks to the amazing Rhiannon Rasmussen-Silverstein

Book 1: Is a clan captain going to sacrifice everything for her clan? Tasked to kill Yeung Leung by her parents, powerful rival clan leader of the Amber Eyes, Captain Francesca Min Yue sets out across the galaxy to hunt her prey, only to be thrown into a web of political intrigue spreading across the stars. Is Yeung Leung collaborating with the reptilian shishini and playing a bigger game with the galaxy as a price? Is Francesca’s clan at stake? Welcome to Starfang: Rise of the Clan, where merchants and starship captains are also wolves.

Author Joyce Chng is a Singaporean based writer and also writes YA under the name Joyce Damask. Check her site out while you wait for the next two volumes of StarFang.

Join us this Spring for a werewolf adventure in space!

Monday Methods : N.O.A. Rawle

Virginia Wolfe longed for a room of her own and a £100 a week/month. As a 21st century writer and mum these things are essential still a consideration, but not so much as time of one’s own. With all the pressures of work and family responsibilities squashing me into a warped distortion of what I would be if I lead a life of leisure, we just had a little more time I think time to one’s self is the essential thing any writer needs. I have choices along the lines of: write at 2 am or zombify the kids with a DVD or a new game for the tablet, abandon all those essential tasks like cooking/cleaning/marking (I’m a teacher in my other life). I know these are not the best mothering/living/teaching techniques but when deadlines are drawing in, and then emergency measures must be taken!


Then there’s the silence. Ok, so headphones and instrumental music or songs I’ve heard so many times that I am not distracted by the lyrics will work most of the time, but there are moments when you just need silence to write in.

The space and the place are of no consequence (I perch in the corner of a room with a desk smaller than my laptop and work still gets done) but time and silence really are golden.

Monday Methods : Kim Bannerman Space

For the return of Monday Methods, Kim is exploring three areas of importance to her over three mondays. First up Space. 

Monday Methods – Space

Writing demands that I seek out a place – a humble spot on the earth – that provides the necessities of creation: a table, a window, and a cup of coffee. This spot can be private, such as my office, or it can be public, such as the cafe down the street. Both have their advantages. But they must have those three items, or writing will fail.

The table is for my computer to sit upon, and the window is for my eyes to gaze outside at the passing world when I stop my incessant typing to think. If I’m writing in a public space that has no window, then my glazed and day dreamy eyes magnetically drift towards another coffee shop patron, and that’s just uncomfortable for both of us.

“I’m sorry, yes, I AM staring at you, but I’m not really LOOKING at you. I’m just imagining ways to kill someone. No, wait! You misunderstand — I’m writing a mystery — oh, please don’t have me kicked out again…”

In a public space, I’d rather watch mountain bikers ride passed on their way to the trails; in my private space, my window looks out over the forest, providing a clear view of an old hemlock tree where a couple of ravens have built a nest.  Private space also provides the helpful access to books aplenty, while public space provides rare moments of chitchat with friends who drift passed. Both of these are benefits. Books are awesome. And socialization, well… it’s helpful to remember that not all of my friends are imaginary.


The final piece in the puzzle, coffee, is most important.

If ever I questioned Pavlov’s research, I have only to look as far as my coffee cup to see, the man was on to something. One sip of joe and my imagination is whirled away to far off places, my fingers start to tippy-tap the QWERTY dance, and my characters come to life. I hear them, you know. They wake to the taste of a good dark roast, and start jabbering away in my head. Tea won’t cut it, and neither will hot chocolate – they symbolize other times, other functions. Tea is for family gatherings, hot chocolate is for wintertime, after snowshoeing. Drinking either of these beverages only confuses my subconscious.

Coffee is the starting pistol. Coffee is the clang of the gates opening. Coffee is pure magic.

When it comes to writing, the space I inhabit is the foundation of creativity and can’t be ignored. Over the years, I’ve had four offices and visited hundreds of coffee shops, but I’ve grown to love a few, and sometimes, they even become cherished settings in a story. I’m not picky about which coffee shop I visit, but it must have those three things: table, window, good coffee.

Where do you write? What elements do you need to spark the fire in your head?


Starfang Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

I woke up from a dream where April sat before me, our chess set laid open, and the peepul tree rustled in the afternoon breeze. There was brewed jasmine tea on the marble table. Her eyes were intense, looking straight into me, while she pushed her Queen in front of my chess piece.

Her lips parted, whispered Love You. Something the real April wouldn’t do.

Yet, in the dream, I cherished those words. Held them to my chest, to my heart. They were my talisman, holding the demons at bay.

The drab surroundings greeted me. I sat up. Another day. S’sahrak would be arriving in twenty minutes for its “daily interrogation activities”. S’sahrak was punctual to a fault.

I tore into the bread, feeling the hollow and biting hunger inside me. The bread was laced with the drug. So was the water. Yet I ate and drunk. I needed to have energy to face S’sahrak. Somewhere in my head, I imagined copious amounts of Mother’s herbal tonics, dishes of delicious food, my favorite trotters in ginger and vinegar. Real things to sustain me, to keep me from falling. I wanted to fight the addiction.


“Consider this,” S’sahrak said, flexing its claws. I focused on the glistening half-moon talons, fascinated by their obsidian sheen.  “Consider this, your situation. Ever wondered why you were here.”

“You are an agent of Yeung Leung, my enemy,” I said calmly.

S’sahrak tilted its head. “As you wish.”

“You are not an agent then?” I pushed on.

The shishini did not answer. Instead, it began to pace around the table, tracing a definite pattern. “We of the claw are not confined by such restrictive parameters. Agent? Enemy? What are those words? They restrict us.”

“Now you are a philosopher,” I muttered.

Shishini are philosophers,” S’sahrak said without missing a beat, its tail swinging a rhythm as it continued its pacing. “Like what is male or female, but restrictive and confining identifiers. We choose to be male or female or none, when we are ready to move on. You are restricted by your female-ness, but you choose to desire-to-mate with your first officer, have you not?”

Ice drenched my back. “How did you know?”

“I am an agent of Yeung Leung, am I not?”

“You speak in circles.”

“Life, my captain, is a circle.”

“Is it?” I admitted that S’sahrak’s pacing was hypnotic. The rosette patterns blurred with every circuit around the interrogation table. I rubbed my eyes, trying to clear a nascent headache.

“Your bond with your first officer might be a liability, my captain.”

“I am not your captain,” I grit my teeth. They are going to go after her! April, no! I began to smile grimly, a wolf smile. No, April won’t let herself be caught that easily. April would hunt them down. April would destroy them.

“I see,” S’sahrak nodded slowly, as if it was contemplating a piece of outlandish artwork.  “Then why do you persist to be female?”

“Stop,” I said dangerously. “You are being oblique.”

“Am I not?”

I felt the wolf grow larger inside me, heard the growling in my throat. With iron will, I caged it back. “What do you want, S’sahrak? Irritate your prisoner?”

“Isn’t that my goal, my captain?” S’sahrak clicked its claw-tips together. Tink-tink-tink.

I stared directly at the shishini clawleader, staring straight into its pupil-less eyes. I felt as if I was looking into pools of oil.  Was S’sahrak male, female or none?

“I do not want to play games,” I said finally. “But if you want to play games, so will I.”

“As you wish.” A gentle incline of the saurian head. “You have to realize this is already a game. I am your captor. You are my prisoner. There is a relationship here I can exploit.”

Shishini play games. Mind games. They play them like puzzle games. Stay focused, Francesca. Do not lose it.

“Then how do I address you?” I sat down, the very picture of an obedient prisoner. Even a day-old pup would sniff out the pretense.

“Call me clawleader or S’sahrak,” the shishini said, settling down in front of me. Now we were face to face. “At the moment, I am none. I am rar.”

I nodded, wondering at the terms.

“Now shall we begin?”

Continue reading “Starfang Chapter 10”