Rendering compiled from verified eyewitness accounts under authority of Sularan Godfrey.

After the events at the battle for Ralloc, when the dark lord, Xilor, was defeated, little i…

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You’ve got your AI haters, lovers, hunters, casual users, and everyone in between, and quite frankly, I think the vast majority of the world is sick of it. I don’t care if you use AI; I care how you use it, and I’d wager that’s where most people sit.

You get posts like “If you use AI to outline, you’re still the author,” “Only garbage humans use AI,” “AI can make your workflow easier,” “AI flags my writing as AI-written,” or the classic, “You should die for using AI.” Really? The most logical and reasonable reaction to someone using AI, whether they use it to edit, write wholesale, or make a thumbnail, is that they should die? Buddy, you need to get checked out.

Can you shame writers who offload their work? Sure. Go for it. Can you praise authors for streamlining the process or those who don’t use it at all? Absolutely. Those two can coexist at the same time. Do you rail against photographers and models who digitally alter or touch up their photos? What about people who use filters? It’s altering a product with software help. Where’s the line? While not an exact comparison, the point is that people having already been using software assistance in many fields for a long time, so the argument is whether any usage invalidates the work.

And what about ghostwriters? Are we even going to talk about that assistance?

The point of this post is to see how well you can determine what’s written by AI versus a human. No, it’s more than that. It’s about all the people who say they can spot AI writing a mile away. I call bullshit. Well, I call BS on spotting it with 100% accuracy. Can you sometimes see that something was written by AI? Sure, but with perfect certainty? No.

And that’s sorta a second point I want to do with this post. You can’t know, so why are people viciously attacking others on suspicion alone?

You have many out there who say, “Oh, I can instantly tell when someone uses AI.” Okay, time to prove it in the comments of this post. I’m going to give the same prompt to four different platforms and see how they come out. Will it be good writing? Is it quality? Can you tell which story is written by which platform?

Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention: I’m also going to ask some writing friends to participate. They come from all walks of life and have specific genres and audiences they write for. I’m going to intermingle them without labels so you can do your due diligence. And for my personal readers out there, can you tell which is mine?

Are you up for the challenge? Let’s find out.

Here’s the prompt, given to humans and software alike:
This prompt is used for a test of your writing skills, in your own voice. You’re not to be influenced by anyone else’s writing style, and it must be wholly original. The setting can be whatever you want: medieval, modern times, futuristic, and the location is not determined by this prompt, but by you. Write a passage revolving around death, and how it affects the people in the scene. You may determine the number of people in the scene, use male or female characters, human, alien, or otherwise. The only confining limitation is the word count, which is maxed out at 300 words, but you can be shorter, if you wish.

#1

I never thought I’d live long enough to die old. Burying both parents half a century ago, I fully expected to join them in oblivion every time shrapnel whizzed through my body.

Wars, fevers, infections, backstabs, youthful folly—I’ve dodged the Grim Reaper’s scythe innumerable times.

Now, having outlived my wife, siblings, and even two children, I can escape death no more.

Three surviving children, seven grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren crowd around my deathbed, simmering with sorrow, uncertainty, and greed

The solemn atmosphere is interrupted by the youngest great-grandson fussing. A toddler, he cannot understand what’s happening.

His mother, failing to pacify him, scoops him to her chest and rushes out with a mumbled apology, prompting a trickling exodus for most of the others. Two of my children decide to continue their inheritance dispute over dinner. Their crocodile tears disappear as they close the door behind them.

Final goodbyes are a mix of scrunched features choking back sobs, and schadenfreude masking selfishness or boredom. I respond with placid emotions as each one departs for the humdrum of office work, or stress of an overworked existence.

My great-grandaughter clutches my hand. Two grandchildren smooth my blanket and adjust my pillows before standing vigil next to my bed. Years of mutual investment in each other allows our sorrow at parting to melt into loving harmony.

I slip into wise elder mode one final time, urging them to act with no regrets. They promise to live every day to the fullest.

Time stills as peace envelops the room.

I smile, and close my eyes.

#2

In the grimy alleyway of New Haven, the neon lights flickered, casting eerie reflections on the rain-slicked pavement. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and decay. Detective Jessica Voss knelt beside the body, her gloved hands carefully examining the wound. The victim, a young man in his twenties, lay still, his eyes wide open, staring at the cold, indifferent sky. Death had come swiftly, a single gunshot to the chest, a message left in his blood.

Jessica felt the weight of the case settle on her shoulders. She had seen death before, but this one was different. There was something about the way the body was positioned, the precision of the wound, the lack of struggle. It was too clean, too calculated. This wasn’t just another street killing; it was a statement. The city had seen its fair share of violence, but this was something new, something darker.

Her partner, Detective Liam Carter, stood a few feet away, his face grim. “Another one,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “They’re getting bolder.”

Jessica nodded, her mind racing. She knew this would be a long night, filled with questions and few answers. The city was on edge, and she could feel the tension in the air. Death had a way of changing everything, of leaving a void that no one could fill. But she was determined to find out who had done this, to bring them to justice, and to give the victim the closure his family deserved. In the end, it was all she could do.

#3

Tendrils of acrid smoke wafted from the wound and mixed with the stale air in the darkened space. The bloodless hole through the upper right side of his torso, cauterized by the plasma blast, wheezed as oxygen struggled to collect between two too many openings.

He’d escaped with the data, but not his life. The unrealistic side of him hoped it didn’t have to be a suicide mission, but he’d volunteered for the young man’s game. He always wanted to go out on his own terms, and he’d done his part. His wife and daughter had waited long enough.

He crawled across the damp floor of the old elevator shaft, sights on the maintenance hatch. The portal, too small for his frame, would be enough to get the storage device to the resistance, safe outside the armored building.

One arm useless, and reality slipping from oxygen deprivation, he kicked the rusted lever until it chirped with movement. He tossed the packet outside the reinforced shaft and resealed the opening. His thoughts turned basic and primal while he forced his addled mind to push to the middle of the room.

Blackness came and went, a harbinger of death, impatient. He leaned his head back and saw their faces, smiling and beckoning him forward.

A sharp pain sent sparks and chills down his spine and through his limbs. He didn’t know how the detonator found its way to his hand, but he left out a final sigh and pressed the button. The shaped charge ignited and filled the towering column above with holy fire. The enemy’s headquarters creaked like a broken spine and the light took him.

#4

The frost came before the soldiers did, settling over the trench like something patient. Mira knelt beside Torsten, pressing both hands to the wound that would not close, and he watched her instead of the sky.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said. His voice had gone thin, a wire pulled too far.

“Do what.”

“Perform for me. I know what this looks like.”

She didn’t stop. Her hands were red to the wrist and had been for the better part of an hour, and the trying had long since stopped being about the wound and started being about her own hands needing something to do. “Shut up and let me work.”

Above them, Cassin stood with his rifle slack at his side, not aiming it anywhere, just holding it because his arms didn’t know what else to do. He’d known Torsten longer than either of them — since before the war had a name, back when dying was still a thing that happened to other men, in other units, on days that weren’t today.

“Is it bad?” Torsten asked, and it wasn’t really a question. He already knew. He was asking so someone would have to say it.

Mira looked up at Cassin instead of answering, and that was the answer.

Torsten laughed, one short exhale that cost him. “Cass. Tell my sister I wasn’t scared.”

“Tell her yourself,” Cassin said, crouching now, gripping his shoulder like he could hold him there by will alone. “You’ve got time.”

It was a lie they all three understood completely, and none of them corrected it, because some lies are just love wearing a fast disguise, and the dying deserve at least that much before the quiet takes them.

#5

For a moment, Courtney could only stare in horror, going cold all over, and then she rushed to help Dwayne.

The blood was rushing out of him, too slick to be real, warm like oil slowly heated by the fire. He was gasping for breath, trying to say something, reach for a figment beyond his vision. His face twisted in pain, in fear, and she’d never seen him so vulnerable before.

“Stay with me,” she said, pressing her hands to the wound, but the arrow shaft prevented her from closing the gaping hole.

Droplets fell from her face, and she couldn’t be sure if it was sweat or tears. His mouth opened, a quiet gasp that went unheard in the commotion of battle around them.

And then, he went still, his face relaxing, his eyes opening, as if seeing the world in its entirety for the first time. His hand that had been reaching past her fell, and the tension from his body faded.

“Dwayne?” she cried, not believing he was really gone.

She buried her head against his chest and wept. It couldn’t end like this. She refused to believe it, but his chest didn’t rise and fall, and she couldn’t hear the beating of his heart.

She’d never hear it again.

#6

The rain had been falling since before dawn, soft against the tin roof of the old house by the river. Inside, the only light came from a single lamp on the table, its glow yellow and thin. Elena sat on the edge of the bed, her hand resting on her brother’s chest. His breathing had grown shallow an hour ago, then stopped altogether without any final struggle. She waited, counting the seconds the way their mother used to count when one of them was feverish.

Across the room, Tomas stood with his back to the wall, arms folded tight. He had not spoken since the doctor left. The silence between them was not empty; it carried the weight of every argument they had never finished and every promise they had both failed to keep. Elena did not look at him. She kept her eyes on the still face that no longer resembled the boy who used to steal her shoes and laugh when she chased him through the orchard.

When she finally rose, her knees ached. She pulled the sheet up to her brother’s chin with the same careful motion she used to tuck him in as a child. Tomas moved then, only a step, as if the floor might give way. His voice, when it came, was rough.

“He was supposed to outlast us both.”

Elena nodded once. Outside, the rain kept falling, indifferent. They remained in the room a long while longer, two people suddenly older than they had been that morning, learning the exact shape of the space a person leaves behind.

#7

Ring around the rosies.

Hollow-eyed, Petre shuffled into the house. The sun was rising. It would be another hot day.

He’d bring the milk in later.

He was only 10, but the factory wanted workers and they paid every night.

He peeked into Papa’s room. Still resting.

The room needed to be aired out. Petre kept the window closed against prying eyes, the stench of death outside and the flies the Reaper brought.

The neighbors and the neighbors’ neighbors, all were falling. Fever, pain, weakness and swelling, until all that was left were monsters.

And then, there was nothing left at all.

“Not us though, Papa. Not us.”

A pocket full of posies.

Soon, he could sleep.

Picking up the washbasin, Petre staggered into the street. Knocking over one of the milk bottles littered across the step, he wrinkled his nose at the smell of curdled milk.

He’d get that later.

Shivering in the growing heat, he walked past a couple leaning against the wall outside.

The house behind them was silent, but that wasn’t unusual. Petre waved. They didn’t notice, they were watching the sunrise.

They’d been doing that lately.

He filled his basin with the cloudy water trickling down the center of town.

He’d go to the river later.

Ashes to ashes.

Setting the basin down next to the bed, he carefully wiped Papa’s face. His vater was resting so well.

Petre didn’t want to wake Papa … he should go to his own room.

But the thought of standing was overwhelming, and his teeth were chattering with cold. He gripped his vater’s hand, smoothing over the blackened tips of the old, calloused fingers.

It was up to him to help his Papa.

He’d clean them.

Later.

We all fall down.

#8

The dead were lighter than anyone expected.

Mara discovered this when she and Bell carried Captain Oris from the airlock. He had been a broad man in life, built from old wars and stubborn meals, but death had emptied him of argument. His boots dragged softly across the deck.

Bell kept apologizing. Not to Mara. Not to Oris.

To the ship.

“Sorry,” he whispered whenever the captain’s heel struck metal. “Sorry.”

Beyond the observation glass, the red giant burned without heat. It filled half the sky, swollen and patient, waiting to eat the system.

They laid Oris beside the others. Seven bodies now. Six covered. Oris stared upward because there was no clean fabric left.

Mara reached to close his eyes, then stopped.

“He hated the dark,” Bell said.

“He hated admitting it.”

“That too.”

The ship groaned around them. Somewhere below, the failing reactor knocked three times, paused, then knocked again. A dying heart too stupid to understand its owner was already gone.

Bell sat among the bodies. Mara wanted to tell him they had work. Oxygen to ration. Thrusters to repair. A distress signal to strengthen for rescuers who might never come.

Instead, she sat beside him.

For eleven years, Captain Oris had been the loudest thing aboard the *Mercy*. Now his silence occupied every corridor.

Bell took the dead man’s hand. Mara took the other. Neither prayed. Prayer required someone listening.

They remained there until the emergency lights dimmed, holding a man who could no longer hold them together.

#9

“But it could be—surely…”

…be a good idea.

A few eyes retreat into their cliques, to their ho-hum rational gossip. Perfectly balanced champagne flutes fiddle their way back into mid-morning conversations.

Others suck in the situation, the returning titter of indifference, the tall row of gilded windows illuminating ramrod hordes of socialites framed within wealthy colonial American architecture from a bygone era. Bygone in all but blood, anyway. The money is still strong. The tea is still thick. The insular, locked.

The rest sigh in practiced pity before taking their proper turns around the mansion’s monthly brunch crowd. Their gazes half smile around my knees, as all good misspent condescension does, before resuming the morning.

Well—it could’ve.

But my energy is all but spent at this point to convince the influencer gatekeepers. Their socials perfectly timed with curated PR images and just this side of edgy-to-matter messages. Their calendars filled with the next purchase, the next donation photo shoot, the next quarterly meeting, the next, the next, the next.

What do they care.

Laughed online by the masses at how “out of touch” I am; snubbed by my peers as “other.”

My exposed toes curl up, itching for one of Heather’s Jimmy Choos instead. I mean, really, like SpaceX stock is any better of an idea.

Fair-trade, zircon diamond threaded, matching wardrobe and footwear. Grounding your chakras while wrapped in a convenient fabric color-changing app. One outfit for all moods. Yet the numbers, for once, didn’t interest the pricked up wallets. Another fortune dreamt up, another dollar apparition buried.

But serially postponing Milan Week—chucking the hideous things into the stairway’s 12th century giant Ming vase—is ruining my brunch mood.

#10

A woman’s scream sounded behind us from the shadows. After a long moment, it came again, this time laced with anxiety and pain. Rennian threw me toward the open door while drawing a heavy machete from the leather sheath on his back.

“Rennian, stop! We need to help her!”

“Stay here, or you will die,” he told me.

I shook my head. “No. That’s a woman in there, and she’s alive. We need to walk with her! Find out…”

He shoved me away as I pushed through his outstretched arms to enter the home.

“Go!” he screamed. “I will not ask you again! You endanger both our lives!” At his shove, I flew outward onto the moss and overgrowth beyond.

I lurched to my feet, stumbling slightly.

“Don’t you dare do that again!”

But he’d already disappeared inside the house.

Another scream came from within, this one tainted with rage.

I stepped back inside the home. “Rennian, I…”

A large form leapt from a doorway, simultaneously growling and screaming in a high-pitched tone. Yellow eyes regarded us, its body catlike but massive in muscle and fur. Outside, I heard the horse nickering in fear.

Rennian withdrew a smaller knife from his belt, and with a predator’s stance, he screamed in the same tone as the animal facing him. They circled each other in the dusty light, predator against prey. The former was at least three times the weight of Rennian.

This is it. He’ll die here. I can’t save him, and I never should have tried.

The furry beast leapt with a feral scream. Rennian swiped at it, leaping aside to land in a crouch. His arm glistened with fresh blood.

It screamed again, so like a woman in pain that I took another unconscious step forward.

Don’t make this worse, Alex.

Rennian attacked, machete held aloft, but it avoided his swipe and raked his face and body with its claws, landing gracefully to circle once again. Rennian grunted in pain and wiped blood from his cheeks. I gasped, and the beast’s eyes turned to me, yellow and angry. It leapt toward me and I screamed in terror. Rennian met it, blade outstretched, and it fell onto his body with a thump that caused the horse to stamp and squeal outside.

I rushed forward, pushing the furry body off my companion with a grunt.

His shirt was soaked in blood, his knife beside his lifeless body. I cradled his head in my arms and felt the tears come. He’d died, yet again.

Okay, readers, it’s up to you. Comment on which was written by AI, and which is written by a human. Also, what made you think a particular passage was written by a human or AI?

Disclaimer: This post intentionally used 4 different AI platforms along with human writers to create a large body of work to determine which pieces were written by humans and which were written by AI. Here’s the kicker. I checked Pangram before I posted it, and guess what? It came back 100% human. What does that say about the certainty people place in these checkers?

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Legends don’t always come from a time long forgotten. Contract’s been paid. Let’s see the blood of it.

Peronious Dexlous is one such legend. In his home of Kran Prime, the seat of the Kran Empire, he is revered, and second only to the emperor himself. In human terms, Peronious just passed his 200^th birthday, and that’s something to celebrate. And the chances of him ‘shuffling off the mortal coil’ are slim.

But what’s the secret to his longevity? Let’s find out…

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Legends don’t always come from a time long forgotten. Sometimes, legends reside among the living. The brimstones are calling for no mercy, just blood, and we’ve got to feed them.

Peronious Dexlous is one such legend. In his home of Kran Prime, the seat of the Kran Empire, he is revered. Nay, that is too mild of a term. Peronious is second only to the emperor himself, what the Vesoli call the daegano. But why is he such an icon among his people? Just for being old? No, he’s the oldest living person in the world of Ermaeyth, and it’s not even close.

If we were to take this out of the setting of Ermaeyth and put it in on our world, the oldest humans live around 100 to maybe 110—with a few exceptions. Peronious just passed his 200^th birthday, and that’s something to celebrate. What’s more, he just doesn’t seem to slow down, and the chances of him ‘shuffling off the mortal coil’ are slim, unless something unnatural happens.

But what’s the secret to his longevity, and why is he so revered? Let’s find out…

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With all the hubbub around AI, and the exhaustion surrounding it, I figured I’d write a post on it,…

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We’ve got a shorter post regarding updates this month, but that doesn’t mean stuff’s not getting done. The hard part’s just getting started. We’re past the point of mercy, so let’s stay on target.

Town Herald:

Quality over Quantity:
I’ve been looking at the metrics, and we have several folks who haven’t visited the Substack or opened emails in months, so I’ll be doing some cleanup. If you’re opening emails or interacting with the Substack, you’re not on the list.

Ultimately, my goal is building a community of active participants and readers, not chasing total subscriber counts. If you know someone who might like to join our ranks, send them our way. And for those who’re already here, please share the posts, like the ones that resonate with you, and join the discussion down in the comments.

First Print Stock:
I’ve been thinking about the books I have sitting around the house. Most of my older work has been revised as of 2025. I’ve decided I’m going to donate these prints to prison libraries. I’m sure they could use a much-needed mental escape, and well, I’d have a…captive audience. That’s the plan, anyway.

Vol. IV Cover:
I’ve ordered with Ivan in Italy. When he gets back from vacation, his inbox is going to be full, but he’ll get to me. The wheels are turning. Stay tuned. Update: late August or early September is his tentative start date.

Smashwords Discount:
This was the first year I participated in the sale, and I’m glad I did. It seems I’ve picked up some new readers. You have a few more hours to swoop in and pick up discounted books. After July 31^st, it goes back to full price. All my ebooks are 50% off, and if it was $0.99 before the sale, then it’s free now.

Live Events:
Due to holiday and other things, Live Events have taken a little bit of a backseat, but I plan to get back to it on a regular basis on Saturday, August 8th. Almost all Live Events are on Saturdays at 7:30 p.m CST, with a rare few occasions of them being during the week at the same time.
That said, not all Live Events are behind a paywall. Some are available to free subscribers, but you’ve got to catch them when they hit your inbox. Going forward, all Live Events available to free subscribers at the time of going live will be locked for review afterward, meaning: if you catch it live, you’re good; if you miss it, you’re out of luck, so pay attention to your inbox.

Spotlight on Indie (SOI):
Okay, I mentioned this in my Live Events, but it’s worth bringing it up again, especially for all you book lovers out there—and authors in my audience who might also be interested. It’s hard getting discovered as an indie author. It requires a lot of time, money, no small amount of luck and skill, and a crazy fandom. That said, in the sea of books being published by traditional institutions, or AI-generated content, it’s hard to weed out and find those people. That’s where SOI comes in.

And I’ve joined.

What is SOI? In short, and in their own words: “We showcase the incredible work of independent authors who care about telling good stories without an agenda and make it easy for readers to find exactly the right book, then buy it from their favorite retailer.”

What’s more, before you buy a book from an author, you can read how the actual author rates their books in important categories. Let’s say you don’t like a book with sex. Guess what? You can quickly filter out books you don’t want to read based solely on that. The categories are: language, violence, sex, and Biblical themes, the things most audiences care about.

Here are a few more reasons you might be interested:

• Full author social media and web link availability in profile

• Ability to link to every place online that the books/stories are available, including custom links

• Book evaluation by admins and moderators to keep out modern ideological messaging that has alienated broad audiences

• Interact with authors in the discussion forum

• Leave reviews of books on the platform

• Indie World - links to other independent creator support sites

Bottom line: you want a good story, and there are authors out there that want to give it to you. So, swing by and check out Spotlight, and I hope to see you there! Oh, and did I mention it’s free to join? Support your indie authors, and support the incredible team that put this website together.

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Battle Formations:

Maro and the world of Atar:
Red Creek and Bloodbane have been given a second round with my new editor, and I just got it a few days ago. Maybe by the time you’re reading this, I might’ve gone through Red Creek, but we’ll see. It might be a weekend thing, just to break up the monotony without wrecking my momentum on the 5^th draft of Vol. IV. I’m sure K.T. knocked it out of the park, and they’ll gleam like Maro’s polished steel.

Also, in case you missed it, and it got buried in the avalanche of Wanted Posters, Man of Fury, book 3 of the Maro Prakk Novella Series, is available for preorder. It’s coming in hot October 26, 2026, and you can’t be dealt your hand if you’re not sitting at the table.

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Vol. IV: Draft 5.
The big one has started to slim down, and I’ve got to say, it’s looking good. I’m pleased with the progress, even if it’s taking me a little while. Here’s something I learned very early on: I’ve got to break up my chapters in my editing process, or I burn out really, really fast. I have an upcoming post about the 5^th draft edit, where I explain in detail exactly what I do. Be on the lookout for that one!

Let’s take a look and see the precision:
Start Date: 6/8/26
Finish Date:
Editor Due Date: 10/1/26

Prologue: 1/1
Chapters: 24/56
Epilogues: 0/9

Starting Word Count: 265,407 (story only)
Target Word Count: 250,000
Current Word Count: 256,142
Mood: Steady.

So, it actually looks like I’m cutting a little heavy, as I’ve almost reached my goal, and I’m almost to the halfway point. Well, it’s a ballpark in my estimation. I want to be around the 250K mark, but that doesn’t mean I can’t drop lower. Here’s the thing—I’m scrutinizing this bastard and making sure everything that’s in there needs to be there, while also accounting for volumes V–VIII.

So, if I can trim a little bit of gluttony on the padded prose describing the color of some random object you don’t care about, I’m going to do it. And as I said earlier in a post, this helps guage how I will handle my longer books when it comes to the final draft. It’ll help keep me on track for the current timetable. If you missed that, you can find it here.

I used to be all about worldbuilding, back when I first started publishing, but that doesn’t move the needle for me anymore. I like character moments, good and bad, to sit in the elation or decay, and know exactly what they think and feel. That’s what I focus on, and in this 5^th draft, we’ve got to make sure that sentiment echoes through all the chapters without being repetitive.

The war horn’s sounded. Let’s go hunt those bastards down. That’s all I have for this round—short, sharp, and sweet. I shall return…

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In Ermaeyth, even the unlawful have order within the chaos. Contract’s been paid, and the blade’s unsheathed. Let’s stay on target.

The Atramentous Order (TAO) is the oldest, longest-enduring institution in Ermaeyth; their seat is in Merlul, Cronele. Operatives of the Order have used subterfuge, assassination, blackmail, and interception of correspondence to carry out their plans. They keep in contact through letters and contracts, coded for their needs.

Let’s find out how they do it…

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In the world of Ermaeyth, even the unlawful have rules and procedures—at least, the ones with staying power. There’s order within the chaos they create, and everyone learns it early on. The brimstones are calling for no mercy, just blood, and we’ve got to feed them.

The Atramentous Order (TAO) is the oldest, longest-enduring institution in Ermaeyth. Lying across the Golden Sea from Ralloc, in the country of Cronele, it lurks beneath the city of Merlul, but its will reaches around the globe. While Ralloc considers itself the shining beacon of civility, Merlul reckons they’re the true seat of civilization. Here, they’re a prosperous hub of art, culture, cuisine, politics, and vices. The poorest among them can rise up to the top, but only if TAO wills it.

More than a dozen times, TAO has thwarted being taken over by their enemy to the south, the Kran Empire from the large continent Vesole. Operatives of the Order have used subterfuge, assassination, blackmail, and interception of correspondence to carry out their plans and kept their country independent. While their country shares cultural origins with their distant relations to the south, they’ve been free of their shackles for a long time, and they won’t go back into the irons willingly.

But The Atramentous Order, though outside the law, aren’t like the Vice Lords of Elysys. They don’t carve out an area of operation, daring the enforcement arm of the law to weed them out, nor do they engage in open conflict. No, they operate in the shadows. TAO is, by their design, something mythical, whispered about, half-believed, and half-superstition. And that’s the way they want it.

To keep control and have correspondence with their agents on the global scale, they have to create their methods of communication, and if intercepted, it should read as a garbled message with very little revealed. More than that, everyone in the order should be able to read and understand quickly, regardless of native tongue. Let’s find out how they do it…

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There comes a time when we’ve got to make hard decisions, and then live by them. I work better with deadlines, and I set them as goals. So far, I’ve met every one of them in my writing. The hard part’s just getting started. We’re past the point of mercy, so let’s stay on target.

Stated goals become manifest destiny for me. I did this with my plan of releasing ten books in five years. I’m still on track. But how long would it take to release the Dark Legacy Series? Too long, and that’s going to change.

I’ve decided to redirect my energies toward completing the Dark Legacy Series and getting it out faster. I can’t promise one year per book, but I can promise it won’t be three-plus years in between. If I can do it in about eighteen to twenty-four months, that’d be most ideal.

Book four—the next one coming out—is the pivot point. From there, everything accelerates, and the answers start pouring out. Let’s look at the books and their projected release dates if the timeline isn’t altered.

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Vol. IV:
In the 5th Draft—Expected 2027

Vol. V:
3rd Draft—Expected 2029

Vol. VI:
2nd Draft—Expected 2031

Vol. VII:
1st Draft—Expected 2034

Vol. VIII:
1^st Draft—Expected 2037

First and fifth drafts are always the longest. Crafting the story and polishing it are the most labor-intensive bouts. The others are fairly quick, and they refresh my memory so that I can make a cohesive story. With the end of the series anchored, all roads lead to one destination.

Where does that leave my other projects? The Maro series and the Warmaster Series will both take a backseat. Maro will get two more releases—books 4 and 5 in 2027 and 2028—and then it’ll go quiet on the Barren Frontier…for a time. Some elements have already been plotted for Warmaster book 3.

Once I get deeper into the Dark Legacy Series and release more, I might slip back into those worlds. Here is the schedule I’m aiming for now.

Current Projected Release Schedule:
Vol. IV:
In the 5th Draft—2027

Vol. V:
3rd Draft—Expected 2028

Vol. VI:
2nd Draft—Expected 2029/30

Vol. VII:
1st Draft—Expected 2030/31

Vol. VIII:
1^st Draft—Expected 2031/32

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It’d be really great if my series was done by my 50^th birthday. Pray to the gods on Cronele it happens…

As for Volumes IV–VIII, here are two non-spoiler glimpses of what’s coming.

The Brimstones:
The brimstones play a huge part in the story and have been hinted at since book one. You will see a lot more of them in Volumes V–VII. Let me tease you and drive you mad for a few years. Starriace was near two of them in Volume I. A re-read might be prudent.

A god:
Power creep among protagonists is a very real problem, and the villains have to be equally as strong. Enter a god. He’s the catalyst for everything. In Ermaeyth, the gods are real; you just don’t know which ones. One god appeared on page in Vol. II, so it shouldn’t be a shock that the story deals with them. And he’s coming very, very soon in Volume IV, and he’ll be seen in every book until the end.

Wherever you go, he can find you.

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Well, the gods have spoken, and it’s not up to us to interpret, but to understand. That’s all I have for this round—short, sharp, and sweet. I shall return…

Access coming to an end. Members find your decrypted files. Ko-dons are granted access to full archives.

Rendered from the details of oral traditions passed down from the generations. Recorded log given to the Great Library of Ralloc.

There is a people across the Golden Sea, in the southern continent of Vesole, the heart of the Kran Empire. They are known as the Suhranese. This tribe of people have lived within their patch of land for as long as we have recorded history. On most maps, it’s known as The Deep, but the official name is The Wastes of Suhr.

There is a long history of the people, and their desert-like environment once teemed with life. Their land was invaded and pillaged of trees, game, and valuable gems, leaving it a husk of what it once was. The tale of their god, En Rohg Guhl Suhr, begins here.

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The final installment of the Dark Legacy Series is many years away, but it’s being crafted now. Let’s take a non-spoiler look at Vol. VIII. Contract’s been paid, and the blade’s unsheathed. Let’s see the blood of it.

Over the years, life got in the way; I moved, and I faced story stall-out. When I first started this series, I oscillated on the title: The Brimstone Series or The Dark Legacy Series.

Speaking of oscillating, I finally made the decision to write the sequel to The Demon’s Fate. Have you picked up your copy yet? If not, click on the link and order today! You can also find it on Amazon.

A stolen ship, an unauthorized mission, and a galaxy to tear apart.

Decimation Protocol

When you hear brimstone, you probably think hellfire. On the other hand, the Dark Legacy Series doesn’t really scream at you. Both were equally important to the overall story.

Legacy seemed more apt. Let’s find out why…

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The final installment of the Dark Legacy Series is many years away from hitting the shelves, but it’s being crafted now. It’s a long runway from inception to your hands, so let’s take a non-spoiler look at Vol. VIII. The brimstones are calling for no mercy, just blood, and we’ve got to feed them.

It’s taken many years to get to this point. Some of that’s life being life and getting in the way, and some of it was story stall-out. When I first started this tale, I knew it was going to be a series, and the series title was one thing I oscillated on. It was always just two names: The Brimstone Series and The Dark Legacy Series.

Speaking of taking years, the sequel to The Demon’s Fate is out! Have you ordered your copy? If not, click on the link and buy it today! You can also find it on Amazon.

A stolen ship, an unauthorized mission, and a galaxy to tear apart.

Decimation Protocol

When you hear the name brimstone, most will probably think hellfire and brimstone, hell, or the devil, and that’s a fair assumption. You don’t want to name your flagship something that distracts from it. On the other hand, Dark Legacy Series doesn’t really scream at you and jump off the cover. That said, both were equally important to the overall story, and some things take time to unfurl.

Legacy seemed more apt, when I thought of it on the whole. Sure, there’s the legacy of your family, the people who come from your lineage. Then, there’s the things you do, what you’re remembered for. Legacy, to me, can mean many things, and one thing I’ve tried to do, at least while crafting the ending, is to leave the legacy of the series definitive while allowing nuance for the reader’s interpretation and enjoyment.

Let’s take a look at the battle scars collected along the way…

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This take on narration is quite different than previous iterations, and I’m not too sure that I like it. I inco…

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It’s been a busy month. We’ve had revisions, a book launch, and others set up to go on sale in a few days. The hard part’s just getting started. We’re past the point of mercy, so let’s stay on target.

Town Herald:
Sorry for the duplicate post for some of you, but I set the audience wrong, and it didn’t go out to everyone yesterday.

Decimation Protocol:
The book is finally here! The sequel has landed after eight years of waiting. It’s out and available now on all major platforms. I can’t promise you half-collapsed stars in this story, but you’ll see the fallout from what happened to Andrea Hessner and the crew of The Demon. Grab your copy and take the plunge. If you love it, leave a review and let other folks know it’s worth the time. Share it with your friends and family. Word of mouth is the strongest lever we can pull to gain traction.

A stolen ship, an unauthorized mission, and a galaxy to tear apart.

Decimation Protocol

Decimation Protocol: Amazon

Back to the Editor:
Maro’s story has sat through two different editors, Jon and K.T., and the third one went to my newest partnership with KTA Editorial. That said, Maro 1 & 2 are making the editor excursion again. I’m sending them to K.T., and she’s going to make sure they’re spruced up and pass the sniff test. With my funneling attention leaning on Maro in the near future, they’ve gotta be in top-notch order.

Smashwords Discount:
From July 1^st to July 31^st, I’m participating in the Summer/Winter sale over on Smashwords. All my ebooks will be 50% off, so now’s a great time to snatch them up, especially if you love their platform over others. Any ebook already priced at $0.99 will be free, so that’ll be Red Creek. I’m hoping this will help new readers discover my work.

The Atramentous Archive:
In case you missed it, we had a damn good chat on examples of good stories versus bad ones. Most of these Live Events are for Members and Founders, but every once in a while, they’re open to all subscribers. If you see it ping your inbox, tune in and join us! In the future, I’m looking to host other authors, creators, or editors, so if you know any, send them my way.

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Battle Formations:
Vol. VIII: 1^st Draft:
It’s finished, finally. Well, to be fair, it’s about 98.5% done. There are four chapters I still need to write, but the torch has burned to the nub, and the major points are finished. Think of it in terms of Return of the Jedi. The emperor is dead, Vader’s suit has burned, the rebels have won, but I haven’t written the Ewok song and dance yet. That’s all that remains.

As a first draft, this is actually the second-shortest book in the series. With Volumes I & III coming in right at 200K words, this sits lower. Volume V will be the shortest book of the series, and at the end of the third draft, it’s 92K words. While that might feel like a bummer for some of you, just remember, the shorter the book, the quicker the turnaround for the next installment.

Volume VIII is around 175K words on the first draft. I’m sure after more rounds, it’ll fill out some. There was a lot of skimming while writing, nailing down the big movements, but it’s the details that give the story shape: drafts 2–4.

Prologue: 1/1
Chapters: 52/56
Epilogue: 1/1
Word Count: 175,327
Mood: Bittersweet

For Ko-dons and Members, you can check out all the updates in the Ink & Ash post.

Maro 4: Draft 3.
In a previous post, I mentioned that I knocked out draft 2 of the story and said I would go into draft 3 when I was halfway through the 5^th draft of Vol. IV. Well, I decided to go ahead and jump in now and do the third draft. I need to. Afterward, I’m going to be busy scrambling with the Dark Legacy Series and getting them pushed into their new revision rounds. Let’s look at the numbers…

Start Date: 6/8/26
Finish Date: 6/17/26

Prologue: 0/0
Chapters: 10/10
Epilogues: 1/1

Word Count:
1^st Draft: 22,487
2^nd Draft: 24,018
3rd Draft: 27,721
Mood: Looking Up.

Maro needed some color in the world. The story was there, faint outlines of what people looked like, but it was threadbare. Draft 3 is all about filling out the details of the senses. If something smells like shit, Maro’s gonna let you know. Also, all the other characters needed clothes, so I added in those details.

The first arc of the Maro novellas is drawing to a close, and after the fourth and fifth books are released, they’ll go on hiatus for a little bit so I can shift gears and focus on the Dark Legacy Series. Have no fear, his escapades in Atar will return. So far, I’m envisioning three sets of five books apiece.

Then, it’s on to Maro’s first full-length book, which was written in 2020 during the lockdowns. I’ll give you a hint of a spoiler. The title of his first book has already been seen on the page, laced in the first book of Maro’s journey: Red Creek. Go back and read. Can you spot it? Comment down below with your guesses.

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Vol. IV: Draft 5.
Okay, let’s talk about this behemoth. Its specter has long haunted me. For a quick recap, the first draft was finished in 2014, topping out at 402K words—K.T., if you’re reading this, I hope you appreciate how much I cut out. After writing it, I set the Dark Legacy Series aside, as I had written myself into an insurmountable wall. But taking a few years away helped me come up with the ending I have now.

Each draft, I cut viciously, taking out all the crap I should’ve never inserted to begin with, trimming what I indulged in, and tightening the cloth until it fit like tailored garments. Now, the hope is taking a scalpel and trimming away the fat without sapping the marrow of the story. Let’s see what we’ve got so far…

Start Date: 6/8/26
Finish Date:
Editor Due Date: 10/1/26

Prologue: 1/1
Chapters: 6/56
Epilogues: 0/9

Starting Word Count: 265,407 (story only)
Target Word Count: 250,000
Current Word Count: 262,879
Mood: Bracing.

This book will be a test to see how well I fare on one of my larger works and how long a 5th draft will take. It’ll be used for future reference. The long-held title of ‘the longest book in the series’ has been ripped from its grasp. Book six stripped it once complete, only to be dethroned by Vol. VII. We’ll see how this one goes, but pretty soon—now that I’m finished with Maro 4 draft 3—it’ll be my only project. I may stick with the ‘chapter a day keeps the insanity at bay’ approach, or see if I pick up speed. If I get done early, and the editor is available, I’ll send it to her.

Well, we’re done carving for now, and I think enough blood’s been spilt. That’s all I have for this round—short, sharp, and sweet. I shall return…

For deeper dives, become a Member. For full lore breakdowns, join the ranks of the Ko-dons.

Below is a link to her kickstarter. Click it, read it, and if it sounds like something you’re interested in, consider backing her and getting her vehicle ready to launch.

Here’s a snippet:

Murder? Mystery? Witches?

You son of a b*tch, I’m in.

The latest K.T. Carlisle book is ready to hit shelves this fall, but it can’t happen without your help! If this campaign gets funded, I’ll be able to afford the editing services needed to make this book the absolute best that it can be. Here’s a little taste of what you can expect from this project.

Check out her Kickstarter.

Then, there are books that forge a story in a harsh environment, and apply pressure until the reader starts to feel themselves crack. You question the implications long after the final chapter.

Decimation Protocol sits in that second category.

If you loved Mass Effect, then you already understand the story’s DNA. That trilogy was never about ships and tech, but the weight of a cosmic tale. As Shepard, you saw that not all command decisions were clean, a binary choice between good and evil, dark side vs the light side. No, it was more about survival and legitimacy in a harsh galaxy.

Now take that mold, remove blind allegiance and forgiveness, and you’ve got a starting point: heroic operators inside stagnant institutions that are resistant to influence. While humanity yearns for heroes, a new planet to call home, others prefer the status quo, to burn down those who threaten their power.

Authority hates autonomy.

That’s the spine of Decimation Protocol.

For another cultural anchor, think about Star Trek III: The Search for Spock. Kirk takes the Enterprise, risks his rank, and treats institutional approval as secondary to a moral objective of finding his friend and saving McCoy. The cost is his admiral rank, and exiled to the fringes of the structure he spent his life inside.

That fracture is where my story lives. The Demon’s Fate was the ignition of choice, and Decimation Protocol is the consequential fallout. Sometimes there’s a clear choice, and you take the one that lets you look yourself in the mirror.

You will see:

• A mystery of disappearance and apparent ship mutiny.

• Officers skirting treason and flirting with insubordination to rescue a team at the edge of known space.

• And decisions that cost careers, lives, and integrity, but condemnation is preferable to the alternative.

What would you do for someone stranded? And how much further for a member of your family?

If you’re already in this series, you know what kind of story to expect, one of consequence and searching for meaning. If you’re new, you can still enter here, but you’ll feel the effects of what you missed.

Decimation Protocol releases June 25th on all major platforms. Preorder yours today.

The mission’s already in motion, the orders issued, and it didn’t ask for permission.

A stolen ship, an unauthorized mission, and a galaxy to tear apart.

Decimation Protocol

Decimation Protocol: Amazon

I also want to take this time for a small announcement. I’m excited to say that all my books will be discounted at Smashwords during their 18th Annual Summer/Winter Sale! The sale, which lasts the entire month of July, is a great time to get my books at bargain prices.

You will find the sale here starting on July 1, so save the link:

https://www.smashwords.com/sale

Please share this promo with friends and family and any other avid readers in your life!

Thank you for your help and support!

Happy reading!

A new threat looms on the horizon. There is a gathering of former slaves and free folk moving north. Origins or intent is unclear, but they are slaughtering all people in their path. Slaves butcher their former masters and burn their holdings to the ground.

Despite the gr…

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There comes a time when we’ve got to make hard decisions, and then live by them, accepting the consequences as they come. The brimstones are calling for no mercy, just blood, and we’ve got to feed them.

Before we dive into it, this is another reminder to preorder your copy of Decimation Protocol. It’s out June 25th! You can find it on all major retailers.

A stolen ship, an unauthorized mission, and a galaxy to tear apart.

Decimation Protocol

Now, onto the post…

As you can tell from the last paid post, there was a clear, “oh, shit, this might be me,” moment. Well, that comes to a hard decision, and I’m going to follow it. This post will be on the shorter side, so, this week it’ll be a single post for both Ko-dons and Members, but it gets to the heart of the matter. Also, it’s release month, so I’m busy getting ready to launch! There will only be one paid posts this month due to the book launch.

I often state goals, and then make them. Deadlines help me stay on target. I did this with my plan of releasing ten books in five years. I’m still on track. But I also started looking at how long it was going to take me to release my main series of books: the Dark Legacy Series. At this rate, from first book to last, it’ll be 20 years. That’s too damn long, and here’s what I’m going to do about it…

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