So, um, Apex Magazine had this to say about my reprint, unlocked on Feb. 16th and free-to-read online:

Here’s the story:


I’m being published in two magazines this January!

My reprint, “The Ace Of Knives”, is reprinted in Apex magazine!
I’ve had the honour of having both Nisi Shawl use it in her Writing The Other workshops, and Tananarive Due has used it as well, in her Black Horror course in UCLA. In both cases my story was used as an example of code-switching.

I have Rachel Nussbaum to thank, for if it wasn’t for her asking to interview me for an interview series she was doing on he Facebook page, Maurice Broaddus’ attention wouldn’t have been caught, and I wouldn’t have been reprinted.

I’m happy it gets such a great opportunity for reprinting!
It will be available for reading on Jan. 16th.

Speaking of code-switching, I had originally conceived of “10 Steps To A Whole New You” walking back from rescuing an injured starling and handing it in to The Humane Society, near Queen and Broadview, around the middle of December last year, and had planned to do this story as an assignment to turn in as part of Richard Thomas’ Short Story Mechanics class. Based on how the course was designed, that didn’t work out. But I still wanted to work on it, seeing as I had never done a story in this way before. Writing a story in complete Patois had been done; heck, I’d spearheaded the way for SFF stories written in complete Patois, which is basically an English creole unique to the Caribbean, and it varies distinctly from island to island. Writing small segments of a story in Patois I’d done in The Ace Of Knives, for example. But actively switching between standard English and Patois? I hadn’t seen that done yet. So I’m assuming that’s how it got started, because I’m always striving to do something I hadn’t done previously in my work.

Fantasy Magazine will have it available for reading… and I also did the narration!… on the 19th.

Postscript to Darkness 6, containing my story “The Ace of Knives”, is now ready to order!

From Sean Moreland, Editor, Postscripts to Darkness 6:-

We are thrilled to announce that Postscripts to Darkness – PstD Volume 6 is now available for order! Please check out our store page and buy a copy of this, our most fabulous volume yet, featuring an unforgettable cover by MANDEM Moco Steinman-Arendsee, poetry by Sandra Kasturi and fiction by writers including Robin Riopelle, Kate Heartfield, Nicole Cushing, Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Bruce Meyer, Tonya Liburd, Lisa de Nikolits and many more…. Not to mention fantastic interior illustrations by artists including Mark RE Slater, James Greatrex, Robert Thompson, Alyssa Cooper, Marina Belvin¬†and more! A bargain at $18 including all S/H anywhere in Canada, USA, UK, Western Europe or Australia! Buy one now!

(It says “5”, but it shows the current anthology volume on the page, don’t worry!)

Snippet again

Another story I started, based in the world of The Ace of Knives story that I sold.


The wild yellow dance of flames.
The scent of smoke.
Your screams.

You’re in my arms, you hold onto me tight, and we sit as the flames surround us and climb into the night sky, and you whimper, a sound almost consumed by their crackle and hiss. You get frantic at them licking at your sleeve, scream as the hungry flames cause a blister to appear on your pale skin. You wonder at my own untouched black sleeves, at my implaceable calm.

“Because this is just a dream,” I remind you once more. “It is not real.”

Your fear of imminent death, your panic as your clothes begin to be consumed, fades along with your fearful moans. You regain composure. Your back straightens, a stable, confident clarity shines in your dark eyes, something I rarely see in them these days.

The fire disappears. We wake in your bedroom, on your bed. You rise and extricate yourself from our embrace. You look into my eyes, the sober clarity I saw while lost in your dreamworld replaced in the real world by a fragile skittishness that makes your eyes dart hither and yon.

“Thank you,” you say softly to me.

You look into my eyes, mother to daughter, a broken toy past its playable date, uncertainty and gratitude trading places within your eyes, along your features.

I kiss your forehead, lay you back down onto the bed, and pull up the covers, telling you goodnight before heading to my own room.