KAREN BAYLY’s passion for writing began as a child when she wrote soap operas for her dolls to perform under her creative direction. These days it’s her biology PhD and research background that informs her writing, a fusion of science fiction, horror, and fantasy.
Punk—steampunk, cyberpunk, biopunk, dieselpunk—stories where technology is the main focus.
Beautiful, heartfelt poetry from international poets
A reluctant corporate assassin who is losing her edge, discovers fellow assassins are dying after killing high-value targets. Love and loss cloud her judgment, and only following her code will help her survive.
“Parasitic arachnoids,” declared the entomologist. “Deadly.”
I’d laughed. “Pull the other one. I’ll be okay.”
Famous last words. There must be hundreds of the little bastards nestling in my flesh. I feel them eating, scratching, spreading, pushing upwards from within.
I can handle the legs growing out the edges of my nipples that look like wayward hairs. And the bristles all over my back and limbs aren’t so bad.
But it’s the eyes, man, the eyes. Popping up everywhere. Body, earlobes, eyelids, lips, even my penis. Damn. The tip of my dick has eight compound spider eyes.
Kill me. Please.
Karen Bayly is a writer, software tester, and author of the steampunk novel Fortitude. Her PhD in biology and research background both inform her writing, a fusion of science fiction and horror with traditional fantasy. She lives in Sydney, Australia, with two cats, a guitar, and a ukulele.
Website: www.karenbayly.com
She watched from the alley, green eyes burning phosphorescent. Tonight, she would snag one, imprison it. Maybe she’d free it—eventually. Most likely she would torture, then kill it.
Once, the hunting was easier; lay a trap in the forest deep, and return at her leisure. These days, she relied on stealth and dark places.
Thank the goddess, only halflings believed in faeries anymore. Her sport was so much easier. All gossamer wings and wickedness, she could wrap any purebred prey in a spell a blink of an eye.
Here’s one now! Male. Intoxicated. 100% human. Her favourite kind.
Karen Bayly
The great witch, Ophesia, sat leaning against an ancient oak. Even though her heart was drumming its final beats, she sensed his approach.
“Come to mock my last minutes, Tarlin? I have no magic left.”
The ageing wizard eased down beside her. “Even I would not hurt a dying enemy.”
“Yet here you are. Why?”
“I will miss you.”
Ophesia cackled heartily, then noting Tarlin’s serious expression asked, “Your point being?”
“I still have magic.”
Taking her hands, he drew her to her feet.
“Let’s traverse the unknown together.”
She smiled as he uttered his spell.
Into darkness, they flew.
Karen Bayly