Here you will be able to find finished short stories, as well as works in progress. Also, there will be excerpts and previews available from works still to come.
“Party of Five” is the first fantasy novella in the series of the same name. A magical bunny, daft pirates, a village of rastafari elves, two princesses, a semi-retired thief and an aspiring bard, plus flying ships, dimensional portals and a largely silly sorcerer with a dangerous, mysterious amulet. How do they all fit together, you may ask? Fate, it seems. Or maybe not. Add a dash of fire, a pinch of lightning and some magic to your life. And remember, it could all be just a bad trip.. Available for $0.99 from Amazon.com, Smashwords.com and soon other online retailers like Barnes & Noble, the iBookstore (iTunes), Sony eBookstore, Kobo Books and Diesel Bookstore. When is the next one coming? If you really like it, I’ll get right down to it! See larger image Party of Five (Kindle Edition) By (author): Vasileios Kalampakas A magical bunny, daft pirates, a village of rastafari elves, two princesses, a semi-retired thief and an aspiring bard, plus flying ships, dimensional portals and a largely silly sorcerer with a dangerous, mysterious amulet.How do they all fit together, you may ask? Fate, it seems. Or maybe not.Add a dash of fire, a pinch of lightning and some magic to your life.And remember, it could all be just a bad trip..This is the first book, Book I, in the “Party of Five” series of fantasy novellas. Kindle Edition: Check Amazon for Pricing Digital Only Last updated by Vasileios at 16 November, 2012.
Ever since I was about five years old, about the time when most kids show each other their God-given implement of peeing, their gender awareness a new and exciting thing to share with the world at large, I saw things. Strange, mysterious, butt-ugly and downright scary things that mostly lacked a body in any sense of the word. I once told my teacher, Mrs. Resenbaum that some scary looking ghost of a one-eyed person who might’ve been a pirate when alive was ogling her in a very sexual though quite incorporeal way. Of course, I was only twelve at the time so I just said, “Lookit! There’s an old dead man with a beard full o’ lice wants to grab your titties, Mrs. Resenbaum! He means bad, I tell ya!” As the natural course of events ran through, I got spanked and she got raped by the ghost of a black (what they called negro back then) miner. Or that’s what the papers in Perry County Ohio reported that she insisted telling the good doctors at the Ridges even while they fastened her straightjacket. Call them what you will, ghosts, spirits, demons; any name is just as good cause it sometimes just doesn’t do these creatures justice. Whatever you want to call them, I had the dubious privilege of having some sort of affinity with the otherworld, the afterlife, the world of the spirits if you will. Some would call it a gift, others would call it a curse. I certainly had no name for […]
My name is Serandito Carival. I’m only writing it down because people often hear a story, whether it was real or not and wonder, “who did that”? Some might suspect I’m using an alias, others will point out that a name doesn’t really matter. They would all be wrong. I am Serandito Carival and I’m proud of the things I’ve done, thankful of the memories I’ve kept and always fearful of the future. That is why I’m writing this, all of this. Because you must learn the truth of it all and pass it on to those that come after you, generation after generation, like a fable, like a myth. But never forget it was all true. Because lies are what brought us on the path to extinction. I’m fearful it could all happen again. From the records and annals that have been restored in my time, it almost certainly happens again. That fear of mine, should become your fear as well. Because fear, as I will explain, can be a very useful tool. And you must know how to wield it, as well as live with it. There will be a time, in the future, when these writings – in whatever form – will be no more. It has been known, since almost ancient times, that the stars will wither and vanish, others more prominently than some. But still, the universe will die and along with it, every kind of life that populates it. But mankind has to persevere in spite of that. Promise […]
The sound of small, shuffling feet roused Penthesileia from an uneasy, troubled sleep. She rolled to the other side of her bed and slowly opened her eyes; she saw Heraclea standing by the bedside in the dim blueish light of the glowstrips. The child’s face was pale white and taut with fright. Her mouth was half-open, as if her scream had been sucked into the silent void. “Hush now, child. Hush and worry not. I’m here now,” whispered Penthesileia in her daughter’s ear, her arms wrapped around the little girl like a warm coccoon. She felt Heraclea’s shallow breath and her fragile body’s tremors; chills ran down her spine. There’s no end to the nightmares, she thought. “Where is father? I want to see him,” said Heraclea stifling a sob, barely able to contain a rush of tears. She rubbed a runny nose against her mother’s chest and looked at her with heart-melting innocence. “He’s in orbit my love, you know that already. Come, lay beside me and nothing will hurt you, I promise,” said Penthesileia but her eyes grew distant suddenly. She stared at a pot plant behind her daughter’s back. It had large drooped leaves and creamy rose buds; it served no purpose other than beautification. It was contraband. A thought entered her mind unbidden: He could be frozen stiff, floating outside an airlock. Nothing will hurt you, Hera. “Father promised too,” said the child, her voice fading away crestfallen. “Your father loves you more than anything,” said Penthesileia and swallowed hard. She […]