Second Saturday Stories

The wizard felt as if he were falling backwards through the sands of time. Everything ahead of him blurred, he could smell the hot wax of the candles that burned in the cave alcoves and the stench of the elixir he’d indulged in. His vision began to tunnel until only blackness remained. 

The Caulderwilde Chronicles is an ongoing event happening throughout the next few installments of Second Saturday Stories. Readers will be introduced to more characters as the tale unfolds and learn of the mysterious book of knowledge currently in Wormwood's possession

Rygeaar watched the seasons of emotions change in Tyson’s eyes as he nodded at the man’s bitter words. “Let your actions speak those words then and give your able bodied men to these pursuits.” The King spoke as if he were requesting, but Tyson could tell the intent was decided well before their conversation and that his King was merely allowing him to keep up appearances in front of those who may be watching. 

It is decided there will be a great hunt and a fierce tournament to challenge all who enter. The castle's coffers have been thrown open and a small fortune awaits the handful of brave souls who out perform the rest. 

I traced a line from the floor to his eyes, my neck feeling ancient, my head feeling stuffed. Harry Clemens stood in a wool coat cinched at the waist and scarf caressing the exposed skin of his freshly shaven neck. He pulled his doe skin gloves off finger by finger and in one absurd second I thought he’d slap me across the face with them.

Haunted by ghosts of his past and hunted by his ex brother in law, Percy takes one last case hoping he can shake his pursuer in the underworld of post World War I North Bay.

When your heel collides with a pine branch the ensuing snap sounds off like a rifle shot. You freeze. Seconds slide through time and your eyes scan the gloaming for any sign of movement, your ears tuned to the telltale flurry of crashing through the woods, your eyes search for a flag flying. Your heart stammers and calms. You resume your clumsy slide through the morning to the treetop habitat where you sit sentry. 

Ghosts' works with a poetic style that focuses less on the act of hunting, and more on the atmosphere experienced when one is set in the forest for 8 hours a day.There's powerful imagery, humour, and experience gleaned from this columnist's own personal lifestyle.

From the deck to the kitchen, Lester strolled to the freezer and dug to the bottom. A steak hid somewhere and tonight it would make its sacrifice as Lester paid tribute to the North Bay weather, her maple sugar trees, and brisket stonewall highways. They would all soon be barren, snow covered and frozen in less than six weeks.

'The Lake Breeze of Nipissing' centres on our main character trying to enjoy one such afternoon as he attempts to enjoy one of the last barbeques of the season. When the afternoon griller can't find his desired steak in the freezer, the backyard paradise he's created for himself slips into a series of increasingly maddening unfortunate events. All of these events lead to a confrontation with his neighbour that will change their relationship, maybe forever.