For Authors: Finding A Cover Designer

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A cover is your number 1 marketing tool, and it not only has an impact on whether or not your book will sell, but it has a psychological impact on the reader: if they like the cover, they are more likely to open it, and more likely to actually enjoy the story; if they don’t like the cover, they are less likely to read it, and less likely to enjoy the story (I made this up, but it’s true. Test it on yourself sometime).

Covers are critical.

I personally find searching for cover designers to be extremely stressful. There has been a lot of drama in the author world with cover designers taking money and disappearing, not finishing projects, doing a terrible job, being non-communicative—but for every non-professional cover designer, there are at least three extremely professional, skilled cover designers out there, ready and willing to work with you to create the perfect cover for your novel.

So here is my very-own (sorta) three-step process.

Step 1: Make a list.

Make as long a list as you can. There are lots of places to look for recommendations for designers. Google, for starters. Just search, “list of science fiction cover designers” or “list of best cover designers for romance” and you’ll find hundreds of bloggers with lists on lists on lists of designers. Pick your favorite author Facebook group and search through past discussions. Facebook has an easy search button in groups; just type in “cover design.” If you really want to get into the weeds, join Facebook groups about cover design.

If you can’t find any posts like this (you’re not looking hard enough), then just ask in a group of authors: “who does your cover design?” People are all too willing to share.

If you’re not a member of any groups, here’s a Facebook group I help manage (answer the three questions!!!) you can request to join. Tons of discussions about cover design there.

You can also find these same conversations on Twitter, Reddit, Pinterest, Instagram, or wherever you like to hang out online.

Ask your friends. Ask your neighbors. Ask other authors. Look in the copyright for cover design attribution.

Make the list as long as you can stand it.

Step 2: Vet them.

Now you have a list of designers, how do you choose?

Easy: research!

Here’s my list of qualifications I run through when trying to choose. You may have other things that are more important to you, or maybe you don’t care about all of these, but it’s a good place to start.

Do they have a website?

The first thing I always look for is a website. This seems to be less important to other authors I’ve talked to, but because I write series and writing is my career, it is important to me that the designer takes their work seriously. I need to know that they are going to be around for a while, able to design covers for books 2, 3, 4, 5 of my series. Even if they work another full time job, I want to see that they are willing to put the most basic investment into their business. Websites are cheap to own and easy to make—there is no excuse for a designer not to have one.

That said, there are plenty of cover designers that operate fully off of Facebook. There’s nothing wrong with that, necessarily, but I prefer to hire someone that has at very least invested in a website.

If they don’t have a website, I cross them off my list.

Do they have a portfolio?

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Cover design is a visual representation of my writing. I won’t hire someone unless I can see samples of the work they have done. They don’t have to have a lot up, but there should at least be five or six samples. And I have to like the samples. Every artist has a different look, a different voice, a different style—I want their style and voice to appeal to my own personal tastes, and look like something that would fit well within my brand.

If they don’t have an accessible portfolio, I cross them off the list.

Do they have a pre-made gallery?

Pre-made covers are essentially covers the designer came up with off the top of their head. The covers usually reflect a particular genre and tone, and authors can buy them at a cheaper cost than a custom-made cover.

I like to look at pre-mades because cover designers are graphic artists. And I know that as a creative person myself, I do my best work when I am allowed to freely create whatever appeals to my sensibilities at the moment. The writing I have done for clients in the past has never been as high quality as the writing I do for myself—and I think the same is likely true for graphic artists. The work they do because they want to do it is probably going to be better than the work they create with an author breathing down their neck and trying to change every little thing.

So, I browse the pre-made gallery. I probably won’t buy anything, but I want to see if I like the art in their pre-made gallery as well as their portfolio.

The other thing I like about pre-made galleries is that it demonstrates that the graphic artist practices their work outside of client work, and I think that’s a plus, too.

If they don’t have a pre-made gallery, I cross them off the list.

Do they have examples of work in my genre?

This is critical, especially in scifi/fantasy/paranormal—the more speculative genres. I have found found plenty of cover artists that make their entire living off of creating covers for romance authors. It’s awesome that they can do that, but I don’t want to hire a designer that has never done science fiction or fantasy before. I want someone that knows and understands the ins and outs, the trends and reader preferences of my genre.

If they don’t work in my genre, I cross them off the list.

Are they transparent with their pricing?

I think it’s important to understand that prices can vary based on what you want or what you need. A hand-painted custom illustration plus the graphic design of a book cover is going to cost a LOT more than some text on a stock photo (like for a business text).

But we all have a budget—I want to know what the general range of prices is going to be before I reach out and contact a graphic designer. I want to know that I can actually afford their services.

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All the cover designers I have used offer packages: $X for an e-book cover, $X for an ebook cover + a paperback wrap; $X for more iterations of changes; $X for marketing graphics to go along with a book. If they have to ask for more because I asked for some special artwork or an expensive stock photo, that’s fine—I just want a general idea.

If a cover designer doesn’t include prices on their website, I cross them off the list.

Do they offer a contract?

The thing about contracts is that if the other party chooses not to follow through on the terms, most of us can’t afford a lawyer to go after them, especially if we’re talking in the realm of only a few hundred dollars. But a contract means that the designer is trying to be professional and willing to hold themselves to a standard. The contract protects you and it protects them. And, if you’re trying to get the bank to stop a payment, or you want Paypal to refund money for services not rendered, having a contract gives you leverage.

Always read the contract up front. Don’t sign anything if you don’t agree with or understand the terms.

That said, even a simple contract is better than none.

If they don’t offer a contract of some kind, I cross them off the list.

Do they require payment up front?

Some designers require a 10% or a 30% or a 50% deposit up front. This is fine. They are protecting themselves—it means they take their work and your project seriously.

Some don’t require any upfront payment. This is fine too, but don’t be the jackass that asks them to design a cover for you and then decide you don’t like it, paying them $0 for their time.

Some designers require payment in full up front for a custom design (not pre-mades—they’re different because you’re buying a completed design). If you encounter a designer like this, run like the wind.

If a designer wants full payment up front, I cross them off the list.

Step 3: Reach out.

By the time you’ve vetted your list of cover designers, you will probably have gotten it down to only a few. Last time I went through this, I got down to three designers, and picked the one whose designs I liked the most.

At this point, you can also make judgement calls about their communication—do they respond to emails? Are they timely? Do they ask you for information about your genre and your work and what you’re looking for? Do they send you invoices or just request money? Do you like their communication style? Do they make sense? Is this someone you are happy to work with for the entirety of your series?

If so, congratulations! You’ve found a cover designer!

If you’re one of the unlucky few that ends up crossing off EVERY designer from your list, then just start over. I guarantee you—there are thousands of cover designers in the world. One of them will meet all your criteria (as long as your budget is reasonable).

Did I miss anything? What criteria do you use to choose your cover designers?

Monster Encyclopedia: Bogar

The bogar. Imagine a semi. Or a shed. Made with a metallic-like exterior, shaped like a giant bug. Filled with smaller bug versions of itself that swarm out and around and search for food and shelter. And this giant semi-shed-bug eats people, and is fast, and can smell you, and will hunt you down no matter where you go.

That’s a bogar. Here’s a picture:

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If you find yourself staring down a bogar, my best advice for you would be to run. Forever. Hide. If you run far enough and fast enough, it might lose your scent, but you have to run faster than it does. Killing one is close to impossible. I’m not sure if it’s ever been done.

They do have an allergy to water, though, so maybe if you trap it in a swimming pool? Or maybe just live on an island—that could work too.

Anyway, I recommend avoiding these gargs at all cost. And good luck.

Book 2 of Land of Szornyek, City of Dod is being released on September 26! Grab your copy of Book 1, Tentacles and Teeth, and say tuned for more monsters!

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Monster Encyclopedia: Koponya

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A koponya is one of my favorite monsters, though, that might just be because I love the drawing so much. Koponyas are a little different in that they are protector monsters. Their sole responsibility or goal is to protect weak monsters from the strong. They tend to focus on infant monsters that don’t have the ability to protect themselves, as well as defenseless gargs, or ones they have deemed innocent. They will protect from other, larger gargs as well as from humans.

Koponyas are categorized as ghostly gargs. They are silent when they move, and have control of a hallucinogenic fog that they can use to control humans or other gargs (although less effectively). Koponyas are respected by most gargs, and are a sort of justice system in garg society. On rare occasions, they have even been seen to protect human children.

Your best bet for dealing with koponyas is to not kill monsters wantonly. Don’t kill monsters just for existing, and make sure you’re only doing so to protect yourself or because you have a real need. If you find yourself up against one, start by apologizing, and if that doesn’t work, use a sword and go for the eyes. But good luck, because the chances of you and all your friends surviving is slim. A better strategy would be to find opportunities to show mercy on monsters, to create a respectful relationship with the koponyas. They return favors in kind—and you never know when you might need a favor in a world filled with monsters.

Book 2 of Land of Szornyek, titled City of Dod, is coming out on September 26! Click here to grab your copy of Tentacles and Teeth and stay tuned for more monsters.

Let the garg’s blood rain!

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City of Dod: An Excerpt

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Book 2 of the Land of Szornyek series, City of Dod, is almost here! Click here to pre-order your copy! Haven’t read Book 1 yet? Never fear, Tentacles and Teeth is only $0.99 right now! Grab your copy before the sale ends.

City of Dod is another action-packed adventure in a post-apocalyptic world filled with monsters.

Head down, mouth shut—this is Askari’s new mantra. A pall still hangs over the Baratok community from the rarohan attack only a few months before, and all Askari wants is to stay out of trouble and help her grieving community heal.

Until a stranger rides into camp. He offers her a chance to obtain something rare and valuable—monster blood with healing properties that could help prevent more of her people from dying. But when the mission goes wrong, she becomes the target of a relentless monster who won’t stop pursuing her until she and everyone around her are dead. Her only thought is to lead it away from the Baratok community, even if that means sacrificing herself.

Injured, scared, and with only Harcos and Shujaa to help her fight, Askari flees from the Baratok with the monster on her tail. As she runs, fights, overcomes injuries, and encounters unimaginable terrors, she begins to wonder if she’ll ever make it back home—or if she even wants to.

Intrigued? Read the excerpt below:

The bogar charged straight for the stream. It reared up on its hind legs, its front legs thundering down on the opposite river bank. Askari had been right—it could straddle the river. But its middle legs hung down into the water and immediately began to turn orange. The orange crept slowly up, up to its knees. It made a wheezing, squealing noise, like air being pushed through a small hole.

It couldn’t be as simple as rust, Askari thought, but maybe some kind of allergy to water. Hopefully at least something that could weaken it, make it easier to kill.

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The bogar now stood eyeball to eyeball with Askari. She felt energy surging through her body, overwhelming her exhaustion and fatigue. Her stomach ached where Agi had stabbed her, and her entire body was covered with cuts and bruises from their midnight dash through the woods.

She stared into the large, bulbous eyes of the creature, its giant pincers only a few feet away. Its head was huge, so huge that she couldn’t have wrapped her arms around it. She scrambled back as far on the rocks as she could go. Leverage. Speed. That’s what she needed.

Taking a deep breath, Askari bent down, preparing to launch herself forward, but froze as the bogar opened its mouth. Bogarites poured out, falling to the ground and skittering up the rocks to where Askari stood.

"Go now!" she heard Shujaa shout.

Without another thought, Askari sprinted and leaped.

Her feet landed solidly on the wide back of the bogar, and she gripped the machete tightly in her hands. The garg’s shiny, cold skin made her shudder. It smelled strange too, a bitter, sulfuric scent. Askari clapped her hand over her mouth and nose and tried not to gag.

Askari spun around to stare at the bogar’s head. Sure enough, it couldn’t turn around. It began to beat its wings, creating a breeze, but she found she could stay between them without even being jostled. However, in almost no time, bogarites had begun to make their way up the bogar’s back. They would be swarming all over her in no time too.

She held her machete in her hands and surveyed the situation. She could smack the garg with the blade randomly, or she could do so strategically. She looked around frantically—were there any weaknesses up here? Any soft spots? The smell grew stronger, and her eyes began to water. It must be part of the bogar’s defenses. Where was it even coming from? The bogarites? Or the bogar itself?

Moving carefully forward, Askari leaned down to examine the bogar’s head. A tiny cloud of vapor rose from a small hole almost invisible amid the swirling patterns on its back—and amid the crowd of bogarites scuttling around. The hole was too small for her to stab her machete into, though. She glanced back at the wings, staring at them for a moment. Maybe they were softer than its skin? Maybe she could injure those? Then she felt something on her feet. She looked down. The bogarites swarmed over her shoes. Revulsion filled her stomach. She tried to step forward, but whatever they were doing was like glue. She could see them excreting or spitting a brown goo that covered her feet and ankles. She was stuck.

Tears filled her eyes; her muscles trembled. Her breaths became short and fast and her mind swirled, racing to think of something, anything. Panic. That’s what they called this.

It didn’t matter in the end. She said she would go down fighting, so she would. Without waiting another instant, she lifted her machete high over her head and brought it down with as much force as she could muster, aiming directly for the hole at the base of its neck. A little puff of orange smoke burst out of the hole, but the bogar didn’t move or flinch. She yanked the machete out and drove it down again and again, hoping that maybe she would cut its brain in half so it couldn’t function anymore.

A dull roar sounded in her ears. She wasn’t sure if it was coming from her mind or somewhere in the woods. Her heart pounded as she brought the machete down again, slicing into the back of the bogar’s head. A rusty, orange liquid began to seep from the hole. She hoped it was blood, or some kind of bodily fluid, and that by releasing it, she was speeding the bogar’s death. On the other hand, it could be some kind of healing solution. Maybe these gargs couldn’t die…

The bogarites kept coming, higher and higher. They were up to her knees now, still releasing some kind of sticky liquid that covered her pants, shoes, and skin. She would be completely consumed soon. Buried. Drowned. Encapsulated. Askari swallowed and brought her machete down again. She couldn’t think about it. Couldn’t worry about it. Her legs began to burn, and pain throbbed and pulsated, distracting her from trying to kill the garg. The dull, distant roaring grew louder.

Orange liquid began to squirt in a fountain from behind the bogar's head, and the bogar began to make a slow, low moan at first, that rose up and up in pitch until a high-pitched scream ricocheted off the rocks and hills around them. It jerked back and forth, and Askari fell to her knees, holding on to the bogar’s ice cold skin for dear life.

The roar grew louder as the bogarites around her writhed and chattered, losing their grip on the bogar and falling to the ground.

Askari gritted her teeth and raised her machete one more time, jamming it into the sulfurous hole. The bogar let out a long, piercing scream and toppled to the ground, landing with a thunderous boom. Water and bogarites splashed in every direction. Askari launched herself away from the creature as it fell, landing and rolling half in the water and half on the dry riverbed. She groaned slowly, rolling over into a sticky pool of rusty orange slime that dripped from the gargantuan creature, now dead and glassy-eyed.

"Take my hand!" Shujaa shouted over the roaring sound, which was now nearly deafening. “Now!” She ran toward Askari, eyes wide.

Askari dragged herself to her feet, only to see a great wall of water rolling, rushing toward them.

The dam.

Harcos had broken the dam.

Askari leaped forward and grabbed Shujaa from behind, locking her in a bear hug. The frigid wall of water crashed over them, and everything turned to black.

The bogar now stood eyeball to eyeball with Askari. She felt energy surging through her body, overwhelming her exhaustion and fatigue. Her stomach ached where Agi had stabbed her, and her entire body was covered with cuts and bruises from their midnight dash through the woods.

She stared into the large, bulbous eyes of the creature, its giant pincers only a few feet away. Its head was huge, so huge that she couldn’t have wrapped her arms around it. She scrambled back as far on the rocks as she could go. Leverage. Speed. That’s what she needed.

Taking a deep breath, Askari bent down, preparing to launch herself forward, but froze as the bogar opened its mouth. Bogarites poured out, falling to the ground and skittering up the rocks to where Askari stood.

"Go now!" she heard Shujaa shout.

Without another thought, Askari sprinted and leaped.

Her feet landed solidly on the wide back of the bogar, and she gripped the machete tightly in her hands. The garg’s shiny, cold skin made her shudder. It smelled strange too, a bitter, sulfuric scent. Askari clapped her hand over her mouth and nose and tried not to gag.

Askari spun around to stare at the bogar’s head. Sure enough, it couldn’t turn around. It began to beat its wings, creating a breeze, but she found she could stay between them without even being jostled. However, in almost no time, bogarites had begun to make their way up the bogar’s back. They would be swarming all over her in no time too.

She held her machete in her hands and surveyed the situation. She could smack the garg with the blade randomly, or she could do so strategically. She looked around frantically—were there any weaknesses up here? Any soft spots? The smell grew stronger, and her eyes began to water. It must be part of the bogar’s defenses. Where was it even coming from? The bogarites? Or the bogar itself?

Moving carefully forward, Askari leaned down to examine the bogar’s head. A tiny cloud of vapor rose from a small hole almost invisible amid the swirling patterns on its back—and amid the crowd of bogarites scuttling around. The hole was too small for her to stab her machete into, though. She glanced back at the wings, staring at them for a moment. Maybe they were softer than its skin? Maybe she could injure those? Then she felt something on her feet. She looked down. The bogarites swarmed over her shoes. Revulsion filled her stomach. She tried to step forward, but whatever they were doing was like glue. She could see them excreting or spitting a brown goo that covered her feet and ankles. She was stuck.

Tears filled her eyes; her muscles trembled. Her breaths became short and fast and her mind swirled, racing to think of something, anything. Panic. That’s what they called this.

It didn’t matter in the end. She said she would go down fighting, so she would. Without waiting another instant, she lifted her machete high over her head and brought it down with as much force as she could muster, aiming directly for the hole at the base of its neck. A little puff of orange smoke burst out of the hole, but the bogar didn’t move or flinch. She yanked the machete out and drove it down again and again, hoping that maybe she would cut its brain in half so it couldn’t function anymore.

A dull roar sounded in her ears. She wasn’t sure if it was coming from her mind or somewhere in the woods. Her heart pounded as she brought the machete down again, slicing into the back of the bogar’s head. A rusty, orange liquid began to seep from the hole. She hoped it was blood, or some kind of bodily fluid, and that by releasing it, she was speeding the bogar’s death. On the other hand, it could be some kind of healing solution. Maybe these gargs couldn’t die…

The bogarites kept coming, higher and higher. They were up to her knees now, still releasing some kind of sticky liquid that covered her pants, shoes, and skin. She would be completely consumed soon. Buried. Drowned. Encapsulated. Askari swallowed and brought her machete down again. She couldn’t think about it. Couldn’t worry about it. Her legs began to burn, and pain throbbed and pulsated, distracting her from trying to kill the garg. The dull, distant roaring grew louder.

Orange liquid began to squirt in a fountain from behind the bogar's head, and the bogar began to make a slow, low moan at first, that rose up and up in pitch until a high-pitched scream ricocheted off the rocks and hills around them. It jerked back and forth, and Askari fell to her knees, holding on to the bogar’s ice cold skin for dear life.

The roar grew louder as the bogarites around her writhed and chattered, losing their grip on the bogar and falling to the ground.

Askari gritted her teeth and raised her machete one more time, jamming it into the sulfurous hole. The bogar let out a long, piercing scream and toppled to the ground, landing with a thunderous boom. Water and bogarites splashed in every direction. Askari launched herself away from the creature as it fell, landing and rolling half in the water and half on the dry riverbed. She groaned slowly, rolling over into a sticky pool of rusty orange slime that dripped from the gargantuan creature, now dead and glassy-eyed.

"Take my hand!" Shujaa shouted over the roaring sound, which was now nearly deafening. “Now!” She ran toward Askari, eyes wide.

Askari dragged herself to her feet, only to see a great wall of water rolling, rushing toward them.

The dam.

Harcos had broken the dam.

Askari leaped forward and grabbed Shujaa from behind, locking her in a bear hug. The frigid wall of water crashed over them, and everything turned to black.

The bogar now stood eyeball to eyeball with Askari. She felt energy surging through her body, overwhelming her exhaustion and fatigue. Her stomach ached where Agi had stabbed her, and her entire body was covered with cuts and bruises from their midnight dash through the woods.

She stared into the large, bulbous eyes of the creature, its giant pincers only a few feet away. Its head was huge, so huge that she couldn’t have wrapped her arms around it. She scrambled back as far on the rocks as she could go. Leverage. Speed. That’s what she needed.

Taking a deep breath, Askari bent down, preparing to launch herself forward, but froze as the bogar opened its mouth. Bogarites poured out, falling to the ground and skittering up the rocks to where Askari stood.

"Go now!" she heard Shujaa shout.

Without another thought, Askari sprinted and leaped.

Her feet landed solidly on the wide back of the bogar, and she gripped the machete tightly in her hands. The garg’s shiny, cold skin made her shudder. It smelled strange too, a bitter, sulfuric scent. Askari clapped her hand over her mouth and nose and tried not to gag.

Askari spun around to stare at the bogar’s head. Sure enough, it couldn’t turn around. It began to beat its wings, creating a breeze, but she found she could stay between them without even being jostled. However, in almost no time, bogarites had begun to make their way up the bogar’s back. They would be swarming all over her in no time too.

She held her machete in her hands and surveyed the situation. She could smack the garg with the blade randomly, or she could do so strategically. She looked around frantically—were there any weaknesses up here? Any soft spots? The smell grew stronger, and her eyes began to water. It must be part of the bogar’s defenses. Where was it even coming from? The bogarites? Or the bogar itself?

bogar in field jpg.jpg

Moving carefully forward, Askari leaned down to examine the bogar’s head. A tiny cloud of vapor rose from a small hole almost invisible amid the swirling patterns on its back—and amid the crowd of bogarites scuttling around. The hole was too small for her to stab her machete into, though. She glanced back at the wings, staring at them for a moment. Maybe they were softer than its skin? Maybe she could injure those? Then she felt something on her feet. She looked down. The bogarites swarmed over her shoes. Revulsion filled her stomach. She tried to step forward, but whatever they were doing was like glue. She could see them excreting or spitting a brown goo that covered her feet and ankles. She was stuck.

Tears filled her eyes; her muscles trembled. Her breaths became short and fast and her mind swirled, racing to think of something, anything. Panic. That’s what they called this.

It didn’t matter in the end. She said she would go down fighting, so she would. Without waiting another instant, she lifted her machete high over her head and brought it down with as much force as she could muster, aiming directly for the hole at the base of its neck. A little puff of orange smoke burst out of the hole, but the bogar didn’t move or flinch. She yanked the machete out and drove it down again and again, hoping that maybe she would cut its brain in half so it couldn’t function anymore.

A dull roar sounded in her ears. She wasn’t sure if it was coming from her mind or somewhere in the woods. Her heart pounded as she brought the machete down again, slicing into the back of the bogar’s head. A rusty, orange liquid began to seep from the hole. She hoped it was blood, or some kind of bodily fluid, and that by releasing it, she was speeding the bogar’s death. On the other hand, it could be some kind of healing solution. Maybe these gargs couldn’t die…

The bogarites kept coming, higher and higher. They were up to her knees now, still releasing some kind of sticky liquid that covered her pants, shoes, and skin. She would be completely consumed soon. Buried. Drowned. Encapsulated. Askari swallowed and brought her machete down again. She couldn’t think about it. Couldn’t worry about it. Her legs began to burn, and pain throbbed and pulsated, distracting her from trying to kill the garg. The dull, distant roaring grew louder.

Orange liquid began to squirt in a fountain from behind the bogar's head, and the bogar began to make a slow, low moan at first, that rose up and up in pitch until a high-pitched scream ricocheted off the rocks and hills around them. It jerked back and forth, and Askari fell to her knees, holding on to the bogar’s ice cold skin for dear life.

The roar grew louder as the bogarites around her writhed and chattered, losing their grip on the bogar and falling to the ground.

Askari gritted her teeth and raised her machete one more time, jamming it into the sulfurous hole. The bogar let out a long, piercing scream and toppled to the ground, landing with a thunderous boom. Water and bogarites splashed in every direction. Askari launched herself away from the creature as it fell, landing and rolling half in the water and half on the dry riverbed. She groaned slowly, rolling over into a sticky pool of rusty orange slime that dripped from the gargantuan creature, now dead and glassy-eyed.

"Take my hand!" Shujaa shouted over the roaring sound, which was now nearly deafening. “Now!” She ran toward Askari, eyes wide.

Askari dragged herself to her feet, only to see a great wall of water rolling, rushing toward them.

The dam.

Harcos had broken the dam.

Askari leaped forward and grabbed Shujaa from behind, locking her in a bear hug. The frigid wall of water crashed over them, and everything turned to black.

Moving carefully forward, Askari leaned down to examine the bogar’s head. A tiny cloud of vapor rose from a small hole almost invisible amid the swirling patterns on its back—and amid the crowd of bogarites scuttling around. The hole was too small for her to stab her machete into, though. She glanced back at the wings, staring at them for a moment. Maybe they were softer than its skin? Maybe she could injure those? Then she felt something on her feet. She looked down. The bogarites swarmed over her shoes. Revulsion filled her stomach. She tried to step forward, but whatever they were doing was like glue. She could see them excreting or spitting a brown goo that covered her feet and ankles. She was stuck.

Tears filled her eyes; her muscles trembled. Her breaths became short and fast and her mind swirled, racing to think of something, anything. Panic. That’s what they called this.

It didn’t matter in the end. She said she would go down fighting, so she would. Without waiting another instant, she lifted her machete high over her head and brought it down with as much force as she could muster, aiming directly for the hole at the base of its neck. A little puff of orange smoke burst out of the hole, but the bogar didn’t move or flinch. She yanked the machete out and drove it down again and again, hoping that maybe she would cut its brain in half so it couldn’t function anymore.

A dull roar sounded in her ears. She wasn’t sure if it was coming from her mind or somewhere in the woods. Her heart pounded as she brought the machete down again, slicing into the back of the bogar’s head. A rusty, orange liquid began to seep from the hole. She hoped it was blood, or some kind of bodily fluid, and that by releasing it, she was speeding the bogar’s death. On the other hand, it could be some kind of healing solution. Maybe these gargs couldn’t die…

The bogarites kept coming, higher and higher. They were up to her knees now, still releasing some kind of sticky liquid that covered her pants, shoes, and skin. She would be completely consumed soon. Buried. Drowned. Encapsulated. Askari swallowed and brought her machete down again. She couldn’t think about it. Couldn’t worry about it. Her legs began to burn, and pain throbbed and pulsated, distracting her from trying to kill the garg. The dull, distant roaring grew louder.

Orange liquid began to squirt in a fountain from behind the bogar's head, and the bogar began to make a slow, low moan at first, that rose up and up in pitch until a high-pitched scream ricocheted off the rocks and hills around them. It jerked back and forth, and Askari fell to her knees, holding on to the bogar’s ice cold skin for dear life.

The roar grew louder as the bogarites around her writhed and chattered, losing their grip on the bogar and falling to the ground.

Askari gritted her teeth and raised her machete one more time, jamming it into the sulfurous hole. The bogar let out a long, piercing scream and toppled to the ground, landing with a thunderous boom. Water and bogarites splashed in every direction. Askari launched herself away from the creature as it fell, landing and rolling half in the water and half on the dry riverbed. She groaned slowly, rolling over into a sticky pool of rusty orange slime that dripped from the gargantuan creature, now dead and glassy-eyed.

"Take my hand!" Shujaa shouted over the roaring sound, which was now nearly deafening. “Now!” She ran toward Askari, eyes wide.

Askari dragged herself to her feet, only to see a great wall of water rolling, rushing toward them.

The dam.

Harcos had broken the dam.

Askari leaped forward and grabbed Shujaa from behind, locking her in a bear hug. The frigid wall of water crashed over them, and everything turned to black.

Moving carefully forward, Askari leaned down to examine the bogar’s head. A tiny cloud of vapor rose from a small hole almost invisible amid the swirling patterns on its back—and amid the crowd of bogarites scuttling around. The hole was too small for her to stab her machete into, though. She glanced back at the wings, staring at them for a moment. Maybe they were softer than its skin? Maybe she could injure those? Then she felt something on her feet. She looked down. The bogarites swarmed over her shoes. Revulsion filled her stomach. She tried to step forward, but whatever they were doing was like glue. She could see them excreting or spitting a brown goo that covered her feet and ankles. She was stuck.

Tears filled her eyes; her muscles trembled. Her breaths became short and fast and her mind swirled, racing to think of something, anything. Panic. That’s what they called this.

It didn’t matter in the end. She said she would go down fighting, so she would. Without waiting another instant, she lifted her machete high over her head and brought it down with as much force as she could muster, aiming directly for the hole at the base of its neck. A little puff of orange smoke burst out of the hole, but the bogar didn’t move or flinch. She yanked the machete out and drove it down again and again, hoping that maybe she would cut its brain in half so it couldn’t function anymore.

A dull roar sounded in her ears. She wasn’t sure if it was coming from her mind or somewhere in the woods. Her heart pounded as she brought the machete down again, slicing into the back of the bogar’s head. A rusty, orange liquid began to seep from the hole. She hoped it was blood, or some kind of bodily fluid, and that by releasing it, she was speeding the bogar’s death. On the other hand, it could be some kind of healing solution. Maybe these gargs couldn’t die…

The bogarites kept coming, higher and higher. They were up to her knees now, still releasing some kind of sticky liquid that covered her pants, shoes, and skin. She would be completely consumed soon. Buried. Drowned. Encapsulated. Askari swallowed and brought her machete down again. She couldn’t think about it. Couldn’t worry about it. Her legs began to burn, and pain throbbed and pulsated, distracting her from trying to kill the garg. The dull, distant roaring grew louder.

Orange liquid began to squirt in a fountain from behind the bogar's head, and the bogar began to make a slow, low moan at first, that rose up and up in pitch until a high-pitched scream ricocheted off the rocks and hills around them. It jerked back and forth, and Askari fell to her knees, holding on to the bogar’s ice cold skin for dear life.

The roar grew louder as the bogarites around her writhed and chattered, losing their grip on the bogar and falling to the ground.

Askari gritted her teeth and raised her machete one more time, jamming it into the sulfurous hole. The bogar let out a long, piercing scream and toppled to the ground, landing with a thunderous boom. Water and bogarites splashed in every direction. Askari launched herself away from the creature as it fell, landing and rolling half in the water and half on the dry riverbed. She groaned slowly, rolling over into a sticky pool of rusty orange slime that dripped from the gargantuan creature, now dead and glassy-eyed.

"Take my hand!" Shujaa shouted over the roaring sound, which was now nearly deafening. “Now!” She ran toward Askari, eyes wide.

Askari dragged herself to her feet, only to see a great wall of water rolling, rushing toward them.

The dam.

Harcos had broken the dam.

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Askari leaped forward and grabbed Shujaa from behind, locking her in a bear hug. The frigid wall of water crashed over them, and everything turned to black.

Don’t wait! Pre-order your copy of City of Dod today! The book launches on September 26!

Tentacles and Teeth: An Excerpt

Tentacles and Teeth is the first book in my Land of Szornyek series. Click here to grab a copy!

The apocalypse wasn't what anyone expected--no rising flood waters, no zombies, no nuclear bombs. Instead, monsters. Their sudden invasion left the world in shatters, and now, decades later, all that's left of human civilization are a few nomadic bands struggling to survive off the land.

Askari was born to this world, and lives, fights, and survives alongside the community that raised her. But when she breaks one too many of the community's rules, her punishment is severe: leave.

Armed with her bow and blade, Askari sets off alone, guided only by a map and the promise that if she can find a book hidden in a nearby town, then she can return. But what can one person do alone in such a harsh, violent landscape? How will she survive?

Askari faces a challenge that will force her to learn not only about the world she lives in, but question what she believes about herself.

Not sure if you’ll like it? Read the excerpt below.

This takes place in Chapter 3. Askari, the main character has been sent on a mission by the elders in her community as punishment for breaking too many rules, and is now traveling alone in the wilderness. The word ‘garg’ is a generic term for any monster. Read on!


Askari observed plenty of plants in this part of the forest, but she didn’t recognize most of them. She did recognize some of the trees—mostly oak and maple, with a few pines mixed in, many of them old or dead. That would make it easier for her to find kindling, at least.

Askari spent the next few minutes staring at a large, shiny black mushroom that grew several feet away. She had been taught time and time again to stay away from all mushrooms, given that so many of them turned out to be poisonous. And whenever they cooked mushrooms at home, they were little dinky things, not giant ones like this. She wondered if mushrooms liked rain. Did they have personalities? Opinions? Or were they just like the rest of the plants in the forest?

She sighed and stood up, re-latching her bag. She had to keep moving or either a garg would find and eat her, or else she would never complete her mission and die anyway. The rain had let up entirely at this point, and she could even see rays of sun had begun to peek through the clouds. It was still pretty dark on the forest floor, but it was nice to think somewhere might be drying out a little.

As she neared the river, she noticed another mushroom, big, black, and shiny, like the one before.

“Must grow in this area,” she muttered to herself, frowning a little. There was something off about the mushroom, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Askari wished she had paid more attention during her botany and foraging lessons. She stopped walking and stared at it for a few minutes, and then continued on her way. She didn’t know anything about plants, so as long as she stayed away from it, she should be fine.

She walked a few more feet toward the river and saw another mushroom. This one quivered briefly, like it had just been brushed by something moving past it. Frowning, Askari turned and looked back at the previous mushroom. It was gone.

Her frown deepened as she walked slowly past the new mushroom, keeping an eye on it over her shoulder. What exactly was it? A weird plant? A hallucination? As soon as she was past, the mushroom miraculously sprouted ugly hairy legs and scurried behind a tree.

“Oh, good grief,” she said, rolling her eyes. She wracked her brain trying to think of what kind of garg this would be. It was a small one, and not something her community had come across, at least not that she knew of. It might have been mentioned in a lesson though, or maybe she had seen a picture of it in a book. A mushroom-shaped head with hairy legs. She needed a better look at it.

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Askari continued walking through the forest, watching for the mushroom. Sure enough, not too much farther ahead, she saw it sitting perfectly still, as if it had been there the entire time. She bent over and picked up a long stick with one hand, while quietly sliding her dagger from its sheath with the other. She slowly moved closer, then reached the stick out and poked the mushroom creature with a quick jab.

The garg stood up and hissed at her, drool dripping from six-inch-long fangs. It had one eye in the center of a bald, slimy head, which was mostly taken up by its enormous mouth. It had long legs, like a frog, but was covered in a thin, scraggly hair, and the mushroom hat appeared to be attached to its head.

“You’re a gamba!” she exclaimed, a grin breaking across her face. She had heard about these. The last time the Baratok had encountered a smaller group of travelers, they had told stories of mushroom-hatted gargs. She pursed her lips, trying to remember what else the travelers had said. All they had said was that the gambas ate meat and would stalk their prey until it slept, then attack, going straight for the jugular.

“Glad I noticed you before I went to bed tonight,” she said. Then she hissed back at it, the way it had hissed at her, and waved her arms to make her look bigger. It gave a little bark-yip and scurried off into the trees.

“I probably should have killed it,” she said to herself. “Oh well. Next time.”

Askari trudged through the woods for several more hours until the sun was just over the cusp of the tree line. She could see a break in the trees ahead, and the rush of the river was quite loud now. A moment later, she stepped out onto a rocky ledge, set a few feet over the river. It was spilling over its banks, no doubt because of the rain that had passed through that morning. On the opposite shore was another rock ledge, but this one had dry ground underneath. She could use it as shelter to camp for the night—if she could somehow get across the river.

Mud squelched and sucked her feet down as she mucked along the edge of the riverbank. She had a feeling that no matter how hot it was the next day, she wasn’t ever going to be dry—or clean—again. Then, to her right, she saw the gamba. It was sitting almost hidden behind a log, waiting for her to pass by.

“I see you!” she exclaimed, waving her hand at it as if to shoo it away. “I’m gonna poke you with my stick again if you don’t go away.”

The mushroom ignored her. Askari walked past it, carefully keeping an eye out to make sure it didn’t attack. She didn’t want to be immobilized if it had some kind of paralytic agent in its saliva or fangs.

“You stay back,” she warned, swinging her stick at it.

Again, as soon as she had passed by it, the gamba leaped into the air and disappeared into the woods.

“It’s not a very subtle garg, is it?” Askari muttered.

The next moment she heard something growl deep in the woods. “Aw, great garg,” she muttered. “What now?”

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She moved close to a tree and peered around it. The mushroom was in a heated battle with… something. Askari squinted to try to see what the other creature was. It had big ears, that much she could tell. Big ears and gross-looking wiry fur, with enormous hands. It didn’t really look like a monster, more like some sort of unfortunate rodent that had gotten stuck with the short end of nature’s stick. It did appear to have fangs, though, and blood-red eyes, and it was a little smaller than the gamba. Part of her brain thought it seemed familiar, like she had seen it somewhere before. It appeared to be losing the fight.

Askari watched for a few minutes as the creatures tumbled and growled and tried to rip each other’s throats out. She debated for a minute if she preferred one to win. On one hand, the gamba was kind of cute and had been her friend for the last few hours. On the other hand, as soon as she tried to go to sleep, it would try to rip her throat out. At the same time, she didn’t know anything about the red-eyed rodent at all. But it was small, and she felt sorry for it.

She picked up a rock and tossed it from one hand to the other. She should probably stay out of it. Or… she could always let fate decide. Taking careful note of where the ball of hissing fur was, she pulled back her arm, closed her eyes, and threw the rock as hard as she could.

It hit the mushroom hat and the gamba went down. Instantly, the other creature was on top of it, gobbling away.

“Gross,” Askari said. She watched for a minute, then shook her head and turned away. At least somebody in the forest wouldn’t go to bed hungry tonight.

Click here to grab your copy of Tentacles and Teeth!

Already read Tentacles and Teeth? Not to worry! Book 2, City of Dod, is available for preorder now!

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Head down, mouth shut—this is Askari’s new mantra. A pall still hangs over the Baratok community from the rarohan attack only a few months before, and all Askari wants is to stay out of trouble and help her grieving community heal.

Until a stranger rides into camp. He offers her a chance to obtain something rare and valuable—monster blood with healing properties that could help prevent more of her people from dying. But when the mission goes wrong, she becomes the target of a relentless monster who won’t stop pursuing her until she and everyone around her are dead. Her only thought is to lead it away from the Baratok community, even if that means sacrificing herself.

Injured, scared, and with only Harcos and Shujaa to help her fight, Askari flees from the Baratok with the monster on her tail. As she runs, fights, overcomes injuries, and encounters unimaginable terrors, she begins to wonder if she’ll ever make it back home—or if she even wants to.