I have been dogged by health issues that have spiraled out of control, and have not been able to manage the company for over a year. Really wonderful people have attempted to help, and I owe them more than I can say, most especially Selena and JoSelle, but I should have shut down the company much sooner. I held on to the hope that I would improve, and that things would get better, but every time I showed some improvement, something else would break, and I am near bed-ridden and have been for some time. Things just aren’t getting better. On good days, I spend an hour or two out of bed, but am unable to work at all.

The posts to this website will remain as an archive for as long as the domain name exists. The books will disappear from bookstores and around the web over the next month, and a final accounting will be provided to authors as quickly as possible.

If you are an author and have not received your letter releasing your book rights to you, please email drollerie.press@gmail.com. Since my health is so poor, I cannot respond to other emails.

Deena

“[Echo] is compelling and it reads very easily and it contains deep and powerful observations. I recommend it without reservation to adults and youngsters alike.”

Click to read the rest of this review. Read an excerpt of Echo.

Whenever I read a work of fiction, I am longing to be transported. I want to love what’s going on and to love whomever it’s happening to. Editors know this and the best of them patiently sift through hours of preternatural wordage in order to yield a suitable harvest. I bow to the wisdom of Joselle Vanderhooft and Catherine Lundoff here.

Click to read the rest of this review.

Playthings of the Gods is one of Drollerie Press’ strongest anthologies to date, filled with tales both heart wrenching, and empowering.  One thing that really ties the anthology together, aside from the theme, is the very lyrical prose. While each author has a style of their own, some stories compliment each other so beautifully you would swear it was intentional.

Click to read the rest of this review. Read an excerpt of Playthings of the Gods.

Table of Contents

“Frayed Tapestry” by Imogen Howson
“Naiad” by Erin Fanning
“Autumn Equinox” by Jennifer Rachel Baumer
“Naxos” by Megan Arkenberg
“Skylight” by Amanda Sun
“Cursed” by Lisa Gail Green
“The Resistance” by Margaret Buck
“Spear Among Spindles” by S.Q. Eries
“Road to Magdalena” by Kevin Singer
“Hylas” by Elizabeth Zuckerman
“The Long Summer” by Phoebe North
“Awake, She Dreams” by Isabelle Santiago
“How There Came to be Seasons” by Natalie Wendt
“Bliss” by Caroline Schmeing

Click on the cover to buy it from the Drollerie Press bookstore. Available soon from B&N, Smashwords, Amazon, the Apple store, and other fine ebook retailers.

Magic that detects crime, magic that heals, magic that destroys: all this and more and in hands of queer women who use their powers to shape their worlds and their destinies. A greenmage reunites with her former partner on one last mission in Connie Wilkin’s “The Windskimmer.” A shaman calls on the power of the Medicine Buddha to fight demons in Jean Marie Ward’s “Personal Demons.” An aging school nurse learns a dark secret about her magical heritage in Steve Berman’s “D is for Delicious.” Hellebore and Rue includes 12 stories by Juliet Kemp, Lisa Morton, Ruth Sorrell, C. B. Calsing and other talented authors.

Click on the cover to purchase the book in the bookstore.

And don’t forget, you can always find a scary read to curl up with in the DP bookstore.

Here I sit, October 30th, anxious and giddy as most kids get for Christmas. I love Halloween. I always have. Even before I came out of the broom closet as a witch and a Pagan, I loved it. Never for the candy or the costumes (though…hey, free candy and a chance to dress up! Score!) but because I am now and have always been a history geek. And a story geek. I grew up in a haunted house and have lived in them off and on since leaving home. I have heard stories of haints and spooks and specters since…well, forever. I’ve seen ‘em, talked to ‘em and hidden from ‘em. I write about ‘em now, maybe in some attempt to corral the spookies in my head in to some form of order? I know that, as I sit here and finish Wild Hunt and Maxwell’s Demon and work on edits to some short stories, no amount of work can keep my thoughts from turning from the fictional ghosts and demons and things that go bump in the night to the ones that I heard about my whole life and I wonder if those pinpricks on the back of my neck are just my mind playing tricks, or if I have an unseen editor looking over my shoulder, silently critiquing my depiction of what lies across the veil. Even now, writing this, I can feel them peeking in, wondering when I’m getting back to the faeries and wights and leaving the ghosts alone for a bit!

Since it’s Halloween, I thought I’d share with you a classic scary story, one passed down from storyteller to storyteller and can be found in many books on folklore. This is one particularly popular in the South, where I’m from and where my family has lived for several generations, since all sides immigrated here ages and ages ago…

Once, there was a young man walking home from courting his sweetheart some ways away. He got caught in a sudden downpour and decided to hole up for the night in an old, abandoned house. Carefully, he made his way across a rotten old porch, dodged some nasty spider webs and finally managed to get into the old parlor. Furniture stood, dusty and faded, facing the ancient hearth. It took some doing but he managed to get a fire going with the remnants of the woodpile the long-gone owners had left inside. Soon, there was a merry blaze going and he was drying off and warming up. He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew, a small black cat was before him.

“Is Bill here?” the cat asked, surprising the young man and making his heart race.

“Uh… no, he sure ain’t.”

“Mmm.”

The young man could only stare! It must be a dream, he decided, and pinched himself. Nope, he was wide awake! A few moments later, a larger black cat came in and sat down next to the first. “Bill here?” the larger cat asked. “Nope, said the first. Not yet.” The young man was paralyzed with fear! The cats stared at him with bloodshot, yellow eyes, licking their lips. Soon, a third cat joined, this one big as a hunting dog. “Bill here yet?” it asked. “Nope,” the first two replied. “Mmmm…” Now three cats were staring, licking their lips, waiting… A fourth cat lumbered in, it’s steps so heavy it shook the floor. This cat was the size of a pony! It shook dust off it’s fur and smelled of blood and the grave, it’s eyes big as dinner plates as it sniffed the young man from head to toe and curled it’s lip. “Bill here?” it rumbled.

The young man shot to his feet and ran out the door. “No! And tell him I couldn’t wait!”

Happy Halloween, poppets!