He had served the city for forty years, and he was a shoe-into be re-elected. 

Only one problem. Polling day, the guy is found dead in the bed of a seventeen-year-old ho.

What to do?

His grieving wife pulled her panties up tight and suggested a corpse could do as much in the way of civic duties as the old goat had managed in the last two decades.

This eminently sensible point of view was endorsed by his political bosses.

The election went as planned, and the cityfolk became quite fond of their mayor’s embalmed body.

©️jj 2018

From 'Dying for a Home' a short story in The First Dai and Julia Omnibus by E.M. Swift-Hook and Jane Jago

Early November MDCCLXXVII

The golden autumnal weather had given way to a chilly November. Dai Llewellyn sat at his desk by the broad window that looked out over the walled garden of his residence. He still struggled to think of it as ‘home’. Maybe it was the eagle over the door that sneered at him every time he crossed the threshold with its silent message that this was a villa designated sub aquila – Roman only. He wondered if he could arrange to get the facade remodelled on some excuse so above the name of the house, the poppies of its name were wreathed there instead.

He had been absently playing with the silver band around his index finger as he thought these near treasonous thoughts. Then he looked at the ring, it’s intricate blend of Celtic knots and Roman letters and symbols. It marked him out as a citizen – as Roman as his beloved wife Julia and without it she could not be his. She had given him this ring to remind him that their worlds were enriched by each other, not diminished.

Days like this he had to be reminded of that. Sighing, he tried to focus again on the information in front of him. A breakdown of the tenancy of a group of insulae on the rougher edge of Viriconium’s expanding commercial area. The buildings were owned by a Britannia wide property agency – Titus Holdings. They provided housing for over four hundred families – most were single-parent households or impoverished elderly folk who either had no family or whose sons and daughters lacked the space and resources to take them in. It was one of the poorest communities in the city and Dai knew that Titus Holdings did little for its tenants except ensure the structural integrity of the building was maintained. And that was only to avoid facing criminal charges if they should collapse.

He had not visited the estate himself since his return to Viriconium after almost a decade living in Londinium, but his Senior Investigator, Bryn Cartivel had done so and his account had been harrowing.

“I’m not saying I’ve not seen as bad – we both have. Think the dreg ends of the Caligula, but that was Londinium and most there were unregistered and criminals. These people are just desperately poor. Most do seasonal work in the farms around or go begging even. Half the kids look like they’ve not had a decent meal in their lives and most all the old folk are ill from the mould and damp. I was told there is a local joke that the estate has to restock each spring ‘cos so many don’t make it through the winter.” Bryn shook his head at the thought. “It’s grim, Bard.”

“Grim – but not illegal.” Dai had a bitter taste in his mouth as he spoke. “The law says no one forces those people to live there, they choose to do so. That means they choose to accept the conditions the owner offers. After all, if they don’t like it they can always leave.”

“I can see it now you put it that way. They are spoiled for choice with alternatives – sleep on the streets, or under a bridge by the river – or maybe in a nice comfy hedgerow.”

Dai sighed.

“Roman logic. People who can’t imagine what it is like to be so poor the very concept of ‘choice’ about anything in life is meaningless.”

“Not all Romans are rich – your Julia was born in a place not so very different, from what my Gwen tells me.”

“That’s true, but it’s the rich ones that make the laws.”

E.M. Swift-Hook and Jane Jago

“We gonna have us a vote.”

Sammy’s bullhorn tones split the air.

“What we gonna vote about?”

“We gonna elect us a leader.”

“But ain’t you him?”

“I is, but I ain’t been democratically elected.”

“Oh…”

“We needs another candidate. Who’s gonna stand agin me?”

Sammy’s Glock discouraged pretension so nobody came forward. 

Then Hoppy’s grandmother’s billy goat got nominated.

Being as how most people couldn’t read, a vote was a pebble in a bucket. White for Sammy. Black for the goat.

Somebody must have misunderstood. Badly.

The Slashers’ new leader had yellow eyes and made Sammy look kinda nice.

©️jj 2018

A taste of The Dragons of Andromeda, sequel to The Arks of Andromeda, by W.H. Mitchell which is out today.

On the planet Aldorus, outside the city of Regalis, a sanitation robot roamed the grounds after the park had closed for the night, emptying the rubbish bins of trash left by people during the day. On a set of six wheels, the trashbot rambled along from one bin to another, lifting each with a pair of robotic arms and dumping it into a hopper.

Near midnight, the trashbot was checking bins by the lake when sounds began drifting from the dark somewhere off the main trail. Unlike the animal noises common during the night, these were different, faint and rhythmical.

As the compactor in his body pressed a clump of paper cups and a small raccoon into a tidy cube, the robot rambled over the carefully cropped grass to a cluster of bushes. Peering through the branches, he noticed an outcrop of rock and the entrance to a cave. The drumming clearly was coming from inside.

Organics, the robot thought, are always up to mischief.

He entered the cave.

Inside, a group of seven people sat around a fire, the flickering light casting shadows on the walls.

This doesn’t look like a picnic, the robot thought.

In sackcloth robes and with hoods over their heads, each person also wore an amulet in the shape of an eight-pointed star, a black pearl in the center. 

One of them pounded a large drum in his lap while the others chanted:

FROM THE VOID

THE OLD ONES COME.

THE END IS NEAR,

AS HEARTBEATS DRUM.

BOW YOUR HEADS;

RECEIVE YOUR FATE.

CHAOS REIGNS;

THEIR LOVE IS HATE.

BURNING FIRE

FROM SKY WILL FALL.

PRAISE THE GODS!

THE END FOR ALL!

A Bite of... W.H. Mitchell

Q1: What do you most enjoy about writing your books and why?

Bringing the “world” of the Imperium Chronicles, with its landscapes and characters, is my favorite. Building an ecosystem has taken a lot of time and populating it with people who are interesting is a lot of fun. 

Q2: If you had to choose which character you are most like in your books, who would it be and why?

In some ways I identify with Henry Riff, the hapless romantic in love with someone who doesn’t love him. That reflects how I was for much of my younger life (prior to getting married), when I felt out of my league most of the time. I also like my robots. They too are outsiders in a lot of ways.  

Q3: Are you more of a cat person or a dog person and why?

Although I pretty much love all animals (except humans), most people would probably say I’m a cat person. I’m both highly curious and skeptical of the world around me, and spend a lot of time sleeping. On the other hand, I hardly ever use the litter box except in emergencies.

W.H. Mitchell in his own words

Born and raised in Omaha, NE, W. H. Mitchell has called Kansas City his home for more than a decade. With a degree in English from the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, Mitchell’s writing has been compared to “Frank Herbert through the eyes and voice of Douglas Adams.” He currently lives in Olathe, KS with his wife and two cats.

You can follow W.H. Mitchell on Facebook, Twitter and his own website.

The soldiers had taken him. Strapped like a beast across the hindquarters of one of their snorting horses. Their leader looked down his prodigious nose at her. 

“Just be thankful we have no orders for you.”

Then he spat in her face.

She kept that face blank until they were over the hill, then fell to her knees with the sobs racking her whole body.

But that was seven whole months ago, and the secret she had kept hidden since that day was now at her breast suckling greedily.

She gave him his father’s name and taught him to hate.

©️jj 2018

CHAPTER NINE
Bristol airport, eight days later, and Anna and Sam’s flight landed bang on time. They collected their bags from the carousel and went to find Paul, who saw them coming through the arrivals gate and unfolded himself from his position lounging against a pillar.
“Good time?”
“Excellent. I’d recommend marriage just for the honeymoon,” Anna giggled. “Lots of sex and sun. I’d always sort of looked down on the Canaries. But inland Grand Canaria is lovely, and the house we rented is gorgeous.  Sam’s folks loved the area, and he went there often as a child. He has lots of friends on the island. So we were sociable in the evenings and solitary during the day. It was fun. It was therapeutic. We had the best time.”
By this time they were in the short stay car park and Paul was opening the tailgate of a brand-new bright red Range Rover Evoque.
“You been treating yourself?” Anna asked.
“Nope. Your new husband has been treating you. It’s yours.”
“What? Sam! You bugger.’
“Do you like it?”
“I reckon. Gimme the keys Paul. If it’s mine I get to drive.”
He obliged and she got into the driver’s seat.
“Oh. It’s very close to the other Range Rover controls-wise. Good. I can manage.”
The drive home was fairly quiet, as Anna was concentrating on her new car, and Sam was just content to watch her. Paul lounged in the back seat enjoying Anna’s almost childlike amazement in her new toy and Sam’s obvious delight in her happiness.

Back at the old rectory, as soon as Sam and Anna got out of the car, Danny opened the front door and Bonnie flew out. She hurled herself at Anna making pleased little noises in her throat. Anna sat down plump on the floor and threw her arms around the wriggling furry body.
“Did you miss your mum, Bonnie?”
Bonnie pushed Anna flat onto her back, and stood on her chest, licking and wagging.
Sam dropped into a crouch beside them and fondled Bonnie’s ears.
“We’re home now, Bon Bon.”
Bonnie got off Anna’s chest and threw herself at Sam. He caught her and stood up with his arms full of happy dog.
“Silly girl,” he said lovingly.
“Come on Anna. Get up off the cold floor,” Danny laughed. “Come inside. Coffee machine is on.”
Paul hauled their bags out of the car, grabbed the keys and locked up.
“In,” he said firmly. “We have news.”
Anna and Sam followed obediently, Sam still carrying Bonnie, who had her chin on his shoulder and was looking blissfully happy. In the kitchen, he put her down carefully and she trotted around wagging her tail.
“To look at her now, you would think she had been properly miserable without you,” Danny said ruefully.
“Instead of properly spoilt,” Anna grinned. “I bet she slept on your bed…”
Danny actually hung his head, and Paul laughed.
“Told you she was taking you for a ride, Dan.”
Then he turned a laughing face to Sam and Anna.
“Messed up our sex life good and proper. Wouldn’t let him touch me…”
Anna laughed appreciatively.
“She don’t do that to us. Though we do get dirty looks. And she only sleeps on the bed in the camper.”
“You know she has our number, so what did you expect…” Paul laughed. “But sit. We are big with news.’
Sam manned the coffee machine and Paul opened some very expensive biscuits.
“The home made ones are all gone.”
When they were seated at the table Danny opened his mouth, then shut it again.
“Out with it bro.”
“Two things. First, and most important, we’re getting married.  ASAP. Second, we have our new appointment. It’s back to DC, but this time I’m to be minister with special responsibility for liaison with the African American and Native American communities. It’s a heck of a step up the ladder. So…”
Anna got up and kissed them both, while Sam wrung their hands joyfully.
“So indeed,” Anna grinned. “When exactly is ASAP?”
“That depends on you and Sam.”
“Because?”
“Because we’d like to be married from here. There are very few people we want around us. You two are most of them. But.”
“Okay. So why the but. Why would we not want that?” Sam asked in genuine puzzlement.
Paul smiled.
“You really don’t see it, do you? It might not be good policy to have a gay wedding at your house, Doctor Henderson.”
“Oh fuck that. And it’s Mister Henderson, if we’re being silly.”
Anna grasped Sam’s hand and squeezed.
“So. That’s you told. Do you want a party here afterwards?”
“Not a party, but if we get a morning wedding, lunch for a dozen and a bit. If that’s not being cheeky. And we get to pay for stuff.”
Sam laughed at Danny’s flushed face.
“No sweat. Anna will  have a whale of a time cooking and organising, and we’ll all just do as we are told. How much time do we have before you go back to the States?”
“Ages,” Paul said with a smile. “The appointment doesn’t start till the first of February. We kept our condo as we had an inkling we would be going back to DC, so there’s no house hunting involved. Means we don’t need to leave until mid-January. We do have to take a bolt to London. We need to see about re-letting the flat, and Danny has to go bow politely to some very senior mandarins. That’s next week. Other than that we are as free as birds.”

Jane Jago

The room smelled vaguely antiseptic, and the only sound was the clink, clink of teeth falling into an enamel dish.

“There. All done.”

The dentist pulled off his mask and smiled down at the now toothless three-year-old in his chair. 

“No more toothache now.” 

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a shiny sixpence. 

“That’s for being a brave girl.”

When the child and her mother left, hand-in-hand, his assistant grinned wolfishly.

“That’s a hundred this month. One more month like this and the tooth fairy will owe us enough to buy our own practice.”

©️jj 2018

Come on gran, Carpe Diem they said
But the pillow is soft to my head
I have doughnuts and milk
And my jammies are silk
So, f**k it, I’m staying in bed

© jane jago 2017

It was quiet in the garden and Leonore sunk to her knees, grateful for solitude and silence. As the sun dipped below the horizon a cool, white moon illuminated the jasmine that crept up the side of the garage. The heady scent filled the air, and a cloud of tiny white moths gathered among the star-like flowers.
Suddenly almost unbearably weary, Leonore lay back in the cool grass. Tears pricked behind her eyelids as a cold weight settled on her shoulders. She sat up and hugged her knees to her chest, feeling the cooling air against her hot cheeks.
How long she sat in silence she didn’t know, and then she heard a voice. 
“Alone and sad? Why so?”
Her eyes snapped open, but she could see nobody. 
She heard a chuckle. 
“You will only see me if you close your eyes.”
She obeyed and found herself looking into a pair of golden orbs with vertical reptilian pupils. She concentrated and slowly, slowly a face assembled itself around the eyes.
“Are you a dragon?”
“I am whatever you want me to be…”
Leonore found herself laughing.
“That’s a politician’s answer if ever I heard one.”
The dragon smiled dragonishly and blew a breath into her face. She smelled menthe and cinnamon and something hot and exciting.
“Oh. I can smell you.”
“Of course you can. Now you can open your eyes.”
The dragon sat beside her. His iridescent scales seemed to gather the moonlight and reflect it back in a myriad of shifting colours. She looked at him for a very long moment. 
“But I don’t believe in dragons.”
“Of course you do. You wouldn’t be able to see me if not.”
“What do you mean?”
He showed his teeth in what looked like genuine amusement.
“It’s elemental my dear, it is only belief that makes dragons visible. Unbelievers can never see us.”
“Never?”
“Not ever. If an unbeliever was sitting next to you he or she would neither be able to see nor hear me.”
Leonore remained unconvinced, but was pleased by the company anyway. 
“What is your name?”
“I am R’u’uth. And you are L’e’onore.”
Leonore tried both names, rolling them around on her tongue as if to taste them. Finding them pleasing she laughed delightedly.
R’u’uth laughed too.
“That’s better. You don’t sound sad any more.”
“I don’t feel sad.”
“Good. But now you need to sleep.”
“Sleep. If only I could.”
The dragon breathed on her and she felt the benison of his presence.
“Lean on me and you shall sleep.”
She frowned but found herself drawn towards the shining presence as iron is drawn to a magnet. Before she knew she had even moved, her back was resting against the dragon’s smooth spicy-smelling skin. Even as she would have protested, her eyelids drooped and she drifted gently into slumber.

She awoke early in the morning with the rising sun in her eyes. For a moment she didn’t know where she was or how she got there. She stretched and heard a chuckle. She turned and spread her hands against R’u’uth’s smooth warm scales.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
He blew a breath on her and spread his shining leathery wings. 
“Until later.”

Leonore went on with her day with a lightness of heart that had been a rare thing of late. Time flew by, and it wasn’t until the sun was setting that she had leisure to think about her draconic visitor. She sat on her bed and considered the events of the last night. They made no sense, and she had just about convinced herself that he was a figment of her imagination created by tiredness and stress, when a familiar chuckle sounded inside her head.
“Where are you?”
He laughed. 
“I’m on the roof. Waiting for you to call. And you didn’t imagine me, although it was your sadness that allowed me to find you.”
“How so?”
“Sometimes when a person feels their spirit has been all but overwhelmed, a spark within them calls to their soulmate and, if the portents are correct, that soulmate can come to them.”
“Are you saying that you are my soulmate?”
“I’m saying that I must be. Because you are mine.”
“I am?”
“Yes. Of course you are. I’m a dragon. If I didn’t feel like that I wouldn’t have watched over your rest.”
“You weren’t just being kind?”
“L’e’onore. Dragons are never kind. I came to you because your soul called to mine.”
She sighed.
“Why a dragon?”
“I might as well say why a human?”
Leonore sat down plump on the floor not sure whether to laugh or cry.
“Come down to the garden, let’s talk.”
She didn’t move, and the dragon’s voice grew plaintive.
“Please come down L’e’onore.”
“I don’t understand. Am I going mad?”
“No. You are not. Just come down here. Please.”
She got up and went downstairs to where R’u’uth awaited her with the rays of the setting sun turning his scales blood red.
Leonore caught her breath.
“You are so beautiful,” she breathed and R’u’uth smiled.
“We might want to talk about that later” he said and the warmth in his voice had her feeling a tingle in the pit of her stomach but she pushed it away as perverse. Even so, she couldn’t prevent herself walking to his side and resting the palms of her hands on his sun-warmed flanks.
He turned his head and nipped her wrist with his needle-sharp teeth. She was surprised by how pleasurable the small pain felt and a blush mantled her cheeks.
R’u’uth laughed at her discomfiture but his laughter was kindly.
“Never mind lovely,” his voice was full of affection. “Come for a fly.”
Leonore looked into his eyes and felt her own excitement rise.
“A fly? Can I?”
The dragon bent the knee and she scrambled onto his back where she found a spot between his wings.
He threw her a smile over his shoulder before taking a few running steps and spreading his wings with a snap.
“We are together L’e’onore. Together. And we will fly high.”

©️jane jago

Dog sat quiet seemingly all but asleep, but when the client had finished his business the muscular animal filled the doorway. Beauty lifted herself on her elbow.

“There is the small matter of payment,” she said softly.

The fat merchant scowled pettishly. “I was not going to default.”

“This way we are sure.”

The merchant shrugged largely and counted out some coin into a dish on the dresser. Dog didn’t move.

“What?”

“My accountant says that is not the agreed amount.”

“A dog that can count?”

He added a handful more coins, and Dog’s tongue lolled in a canine grin.

©️jj 2018