W.R. Gingell

Beauty met the Beast and there was...bloody murder? It’s the Annual Ambassadorial Ball in Glause, and Lady Isabella Farrah, the daughter of New Civet’s Ambassador, is feeling pleasantly scintillated. In the library is Lord Pecus, a charming gentleman whose double mask hides a beastly face, and who has decided that Isabella is the very person to break the Pecus curse. In the ballroom is young Lord Topher, who is rapidly falling in love with an older woman. And in the cardroom, lying in a pool of his own blood, is the body of one of Isabella’s oldest friends: Raoul, Civet’s Head Guardsman. The papers sewn into his sash seem to suggest espionage gone wrong, but Isabella is not so certain. Lord Pecus, as Commander of the Watch, is of the opinion that Isabella should keep out of the investigation and out of danger. Isabella is of the opinion that it is her murder to investigate, and that what a certain Beast-Lord doesn’t know won’t hurt him... Will Isabella find the murderer before Lord Pecus does, or will she end her investigation as a bloody spatter on the parlour floor?

Masque

It begins the way it has always begun: with a card on Mabel's pillow. But Mabel has been in Underland before, and she's not so anxious to go back. No matter what name it takes, Underland is always bizarre, always mad, always dangerous. There's the Queen of Hearts, terrifying, powerful, and possibly insane. There's Hatter, purple-eyed and undoubtedly mad. March Hare has always been one sandwich short of a picnic, and Sir Blanc is missing his wits. And then there's Jack. Jack the aristocratic son of the Queen. Not quite mad, but not far off. Disinclined to help anyone but himself. A liar. And, thanks to an ancient ceremony performed by the Queen, Mabel's fiancé. Fall into the rabbit hole with Mabel as she climbs through tea-pots, battles the Jabberwock, and attempts to overthrow the Queen of Hearts herself. Don't lose your head. And whatever you do, don't be late...

Playing Hearts

She’s not a princess...but then, he’s no prince. Polyhymnia is deep in enchanted sleep. High in a tower, behind an impenetrable barrier of magical thorns, she sleeps, dreams, and falls ever deeper into her curse. Woken by a kiss, Poly finds herself in an alien world where three hundred years have passed and everyone she has ever known is dead. Luck, the enchanter who woke her, seems to think she is the princess. Understandable, since he found her asleep on the princess’ bed, in the royal suite, and dressed in the princess’ clothes. Who cursed Poly? Why is someone trying to kill her and Luck? Why can’t she stop falling asleep? And why does her hair keep growing? Sometimes breaking the curse is just the beginning of the journey.

Spindle

Between Jobs

Gothel and the Maiden Prince

In TWELVE DAYS OF FAERY, King Markon of Montalier is at the end of his tether. His son, Prince Parrin, is afflicted by a nasty curse that brutally attacks any woman with whom he so much as flirts. Markon, accompanied by a mysterious enchantress, must enter Faery to break the curse. He’s collecting clues, but she seems to be collecting shards of an ancient, broken sword… Rafiq has FIRE IN THE BLOOD. When the crafty Prince Akish attempts to rescue Princess Kayami Koto from a dragon-guarded and enchanted keep, it seems only sensible to bring his own dragon. Bound to Akish by an old, spiteful piece of magic held in a single shard of an ancient sword, Rafiq has no choice but to help. There to assist is serving maid Kako–mistress of many secrets, and perhaps the only person who can free Rafiq from his bondage. Llassar is feeling THE FIRST CHILL OF AUTUMN. Fae began to filter slowly into the land shortly after the birth of the crown princess, Dion ferch Alawn, and now there isn’t a town in Llassar that isn’t under their control. To unite her country and save her world, Dion ferch Alawn must gather all the shards of the Broken Sword that will seal away Faery once and for all. BONUS CONTENT: A short story featuring Carmine and Fancy, never before published!

Shards of a Broken Sword: The Complete Trilogy

Wolfskin

Peter has lived most of his life in the assurance of two comfortable convictions. One, that he is always the cleverest person in the room; and two, that when it comes to magic, he does not make mistakes.His ability to make--or keep!--friends has been less assured, and despite the fact that Peter enters the University of Mechanics as the youngest student in all of his classes, the disquieting conclusion that he might not always be the cleverest person in the room slowly begins to creep over him.When he tries to impress his classmate, Miss Stoneflange, with his latest time-altering device, things go disastrously wrong.Now, Peter has a new conviction: namely, that whenever Miss Stoneflange is involved, something will inevitably go wrong. Worse, it doesn't seem possible for him to stop making mistakes around her.Peter will need to decide who is the biggest threat to the timely continuation of the Two Monarchies: Miss Stoneflange and her ability to set things wrong, or himself and his own rash determination to be always right...

Two Monarchies Sequence, No. 4

Clockwork Magician

Bad luck is the least of their worries… Annabel has never wanted a cat. She certainly didn’t want a secretive, sarcastic black cat who takes over her pillow and makes remarks that no one else ever seems to hear. Despite that, Blackfoot manages to slink into her life like a small, furry shadow. Now Annabel and her friend Peter are being over-run by cats. More and more arrive each day, turning up at the old castle ruins where Annabel and Peter spend most of their time. And some of those cats aren’t as…friendly…as Blackfoot. When someone tries to kill Annabel and a spell goes very badly wrong, they find themselves trapped in the castle ruins, which are now growing back at an alarming rate. Even more alarming is the fact that the person who tried to kill Annabel is rapidly gaining control over the magical ruins. Worst of all, Blackfoot knows more than he’s telling, and what he’s not telling could be enough to get them all killed.

Blackfoot

G’day. I’m still here. Still Pet. Well, I’m only two thirds of a Pet these days, but you might as well call me Pet anyway. Everyone does: everyone but the vampire, that is. Life is more unbalanced these days—cases are cutting closer to home than usual. I thought I was the only one, but there are others like me: kids whose parents were murdered just like mine. Stuff that never fit into place before is beginning fall into place. And my psychos are getting really weird. I mean, they’ve always been weird, but now they’re getting weirder. Why would a fae lord decide to collaborate with humans? Why has the fae steward started sneaking out at night? And why is the vampire reading romance novels?

Between Cases

G'day. I'm Pet. Not, not Pet--I am a pet. Well, I was a pet: I used to belong to two fae and a stroppy vampire. Now I'm homeless. I mean, I was always technically homeless, but this time it's different. I just got used to having some kind of family, and now we're back to everyone wanting to kill each other--and guess who the weak link is? I'll give you a hint: it's not the vampire, and it's sure as heck not the fae.

Between Homes

Two fae is company, but a company of fae is trouble. Which is exactly what we’ve got. Trouble, I mean. Well, and fae. Lots of fae. Something or someone is stalking and killing high-level fae around Hobart—tearing out hearts and leaving a trail of bloody bodies behind. Fae don’t like it when they’re the ones getting killed, so of course they came to hire my owners. Owners, you ask? Hi. I’m Pet. No, that’s not my name. I am a pet. My owners? They’re fae. Well, two fae and one stroppy vampire. Welcome to the world Between.

Between Frames

Don’t get too close to humans. That’s rule number one. Well, it is if you’re an emotionally constipated fae lord. As far as I’m concerned, the vampire could do a better job of keeping his distance, but he’s never been that good at following the rules. G’day. I’m Pet. Schrödinger’s Pet, these days; depends who’s asking. I’m human, but when you hang around with enough Behindkind, it starts getting dangerous for the other humans around you. Humans like my friend Morgana. I tried to stay away, but now she needs my help and don’t get too close to humans isn’t exactly gunna cut it anymore. I’ve got the feeling I’m about to find out why it’s such a bad idea.

Between Walls

There’s a body beneath the skip bins. Fae on the forklift. A vampire in the manager’s office. And there’s definitely something skeevy going on in the locker rooms. Hi. I’m Pet. Well, not exactly Pet. I am a pet. I was meant to stay out of it, but somebody’s gotta do something when humans are being killed by Behindkind creatures. Lucky for me, my owners are just as dangerous and inhuman as the bad guys...

Between Shifts

G’day. I’m Pet. Heirling. Biter of fae lords. Trouble. I have a lot of names these days—including my own, real name. Unfortunately for me, someone else knows that name too; not to mention the names of my other heirling friends. Now those heirling friends have disappeared, stolen by the current King Behind for a fight to the death where only one contender to the throne remains. The rules say there’s no way in and only one way out of that fight, but I’ve always preferred to work outside the rules. I just have to trust my friends to help each other stay alive long enough for me to get them out—without becoming a contender for the throne myself. Because one thing is for sure: I am absolutely not planning on being the next King Behind.

Between Kings

When someone tries to threaten me by telling me they know my name, I take that personally. G’day. I’m not really a pet anymore, but you might as well keep calling me Pet. It’s not like I’m gunna tell you my name anyway. And if I sound stroppy, well, I am. First, I was threatened. Now, someone has cut off my house from the human world and left my emotional support vampire on the human side. On the inside, it’s just me and an emotionally compromised fae; outside, a closed arena in the world Behind, where everyone is out to kill us and a few of that everyone might actually be capable of it. Yep. The Heirling Trials have begun, and it seems like it’s either be king or be dead when it comes to the world Behind…

Between Family

Life is complicated. I mean, life has always been complicated, but there’s a difference between monsters-are-trying-to-kill-you complications and monsters-are-in-love-with-you complications. I’m still not sure which is more dangerous. G’day. I’m Pet. Two-thirds of a pet, anyway: the vampire isn’t claiming ownership these days, but he’s definitely encroaching. On the list of other encroaching complications is the threat of heirling trials, a certain fae lord, and a mysterious librarian—not to mention the thing that’s killing people on Hobart’s waterfront… One day, I’ll have a normal life. Today is not that day.

Between Decisions

I’m not supposed to push through the boundaries of reality without supervision. I’m definitely not meant to drag a cop Between with me. But stuff happens, you know? Hi. I’m Pet. Well, not Pet, exactly. I am a pet. Nothing too hard; I just cook and clean for the Behindkind who took over my house. Easy. But now one of my owners has gone missing. He’s fae, so it shouldn’t worry me, but if there’s something out there that can kidnap fae, I don’t wanna meet it. Good thing I’ve got another two owners and a spare cop up my sleeve…

Between Floors

Kill the kid and you can come back. That's what the note says. Five-Four-One is just a lowly leprechaun, working for the Behindkind Tax Office. He has no idea why he's suddenly been dumped into the terrifying death-trap known as Australia: no idea who the kid is, or why someone wants them both dead. Nor does he know who else is looking for the kid—which is unfortunate, because out of all the other things that could potentially kill him today, that one is the most likely to stick. CLOUDY WITH A CHANCE OF DROPBEARS is a companion novellette in the City Between urban fantasy series, best read between books 5 and 6.

Cloudy with a Chance of Dropbears

When you get up in the morning, the last thing you expect to see is a murdered guy hanging outside your window. Things like that tend to draw the attention of the local police, and when you’re squatting in your parents’ old house until you can afford to buy it, another thing you can’t afford is the attention of the cops. Oh yeah. Hi. My name is Pet. It’s not my real name, but it’s the only one you’re getting. Things like names are important these days. And it’s not so much that I’m Pet. I am a pet. A human pet: I belong to the two Behindkind fae and the pouty vampire who just moved into my house. It’s not weird, I promise—well, it is weird, yeah. But it’s not weird weird, you know?

W.R. Gingell

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