And also, since Niteblade is sort of where it all started for me, and\u00a0Arcana<\/em> was my first anthology idea, it also felt a little bit like coming full circle somehow.<\/p>\n Anyway, without giving anything away, I’d like to share some of the interior art from Arcana <\/em>along with brief excerpts from the stories they are meant to illustrate.<\/p>\n All artwork is done by Marge Simon<\/a>.<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row column_structure=”2_5,3_5″ _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_column type=”2_5″ _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_image src=”https:\/\/www.rhondaparrish.com\/home\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/1-Finders-scaled.jpeg” title_text=”1-Finders” admin_label=”Finders Image” _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=”3_5″ _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_text admin_label=”Finders text” _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default” hover_enabled=”0″ sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n Excerpt from “Finders and Keepers, Its and Not-Its” by J.G. Formato:<\/strong><\/p>\n I\u2019m not the hoarder\u2014Granny Keeper is. I\u2019m just the finder.<\/p>\n I found her the day I lost everything. My boyfriend, my wallet, my job. I had no idea where the boyfriend or the wallet went, I just knew they weren\u2019t there when I woke up. Will\u2019s stuff was all gone, from his Xbox to his nose hair trimmer, so at least I knew he wasn\u2019t kidnapped.<\/p>\n Maybe my wallet was, though.<\/p>\n On the other hand, Trisha the Manager was crystal clear on why I lost my job. You\u2019re supposed to write the customer\u2019s first name on the ticket, not bitter identifiers. Codependent Hipsters. Sugar Daddy and the Sidepiece. Short-Term Engagement<\/em>. Yeah… that stuff ends up on the receipt, and people don\u2019t really like it.<\/p>\n At aggressively cheerful chain restaurants like mine, such shenanigans are the kiss of death. Termination effective immediately.<\/p>\n Termination\u2019s so harsh. I prefer to think of it as a release.<\/p>\n She was sitting at the kitchen table in the dark when I got home. I didn\u2019t see her, of course, until I flipped on the lights. But there she was, complacently knitting a bright red scarf.<\/p>\n …<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row column_structure=”3_5,2_5″ _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_column type=”3_5″ _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_text admin_label=”Palimpsest text” _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default” hover_enabled=”0″ sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n Excerpt from “Palimpsest” by Kevin Cockle:<\/strong><\/p>\n \u201cYou don\u2019t look like a mom.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThanks? I guess?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou know what I mean.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI could assume. Why don\u2019t you tell me?\u201d<\/p>\n Mike exhaled a speculative breath, narrowing his eyes as he took her in. \u201cBored socialite. Husband\u2019s a\u2026 uh\u2026 arms dealer. Government approved but still a little shady. You\u2019re afraid of him, but he treats you well. Nothing\u2019s for free though. You come here to distract yourself, get out of the house\u2014strike that\u2014gated mansion. You like people, and conversation, but you don\u2019t get much of either any more,\u201d he paused, then said: \u201cHow\u2019m I doing?\u201d<\/p>\n She smiled. \u201cYou must be a writer.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJesus: that obvious?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYour slumming attitude, too-cool for the mall. Your grungy, out-of-style levis. Your unshaven, uncaring face, and the naturally curly hair which saves you from having to do anything with it. Luckily for you. Handsome, but not leading man material: more interesting than hot. Yep: a writer. How\u2019m I doing?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m a writer all right. Mike.\u201d He extended his hand.<\/p>\n \u201cConstance.\u201d She extended hers. A squeal from the park distracted her: her kid, hitting some other kid on the head with a foam bat. Why the hell would they put those things in there?<\/p>\n \u201cSo, Mike. Why are you hanging around a kid\u2019s park in a shopping mall in the middle of the day. Trying to get arrested?\u201d<\/p>\n …<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=”2_5″ _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_image src=”https:\/\/www.rhondaparrish.com\/home\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/2-Palempset-scaled.jpeg” title_text=”2-Palempset” admin_label=”Palimpsest image” _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row column_structure=”2_5,3_5″ _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_column type=”2_5″ _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_image src=”https:\/\/www.rhondaparrish.com\/home\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/3-Larkspur-scaled.jpeg” title_text=”3-Larkspur” admin_label=”Larkspur image” _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=”3_5″ _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_text admin_label=”Larkspur text” _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default” hover_enabled=”0″ sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n Excerpt from “Larkspur and Henbane” by Sara Cleto and Brittany Warman:<\/strong><\/p>\n I cut flowers –<\/p>\n chrysanthemums, crocuses, roses –<\/p>\n not to put in vases or arrange<\/p>\n artfully over the hearth but to invert<\/p>\n and dry until my breath crumbled them.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n In this way I became<\/p>\n a connoisseur of the forgotten,<\/p>\n a handmaiden of the dying.<\/p>\n A witch, perhaps, sleeping in the coop,<\/p>\n nestled among feathers.<\/p>\n …<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row column_structure=”3_5,2_5″ _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_column type=”3_5″ _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_text admin_label=”Lupa text” _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default” hover_enabled=”0″ sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n Excerpt from “Lupa” by Susan MacGregor:<\/strong><\/p>\n Fear tightened her gut but undaunted, she stepped from the litter. They had left her near the Grove of Diana. A nightingale called. She was alone.<\/p>\n What had scared them? She walked down the road fearing bandits, but that made no sense. They would have robbed or attacked her by now. A dim rider approached from the south. With her heart hammering, she dashed into the grove to hide behind an oak. The rider turned out to be a centurion. He paused at the litter, but finding no one inside, rode on. When he was gone, she released her breath.<\/p>\n There was nothing for it but to return to the House. Going back to the villa was out of the question. Still, it might be wiser to travel under cover for as long as she could. As she stepped further into the trees, the night closed about her. The sanctuary of Diana\u2019s temple was a tempting thought, but it would be cold. Best to keep moving.<\/p>\n She was half-way through the grove, when a snap came from behind her. She spun about, her pulse pounding in her ears. Her imagination threatened wolves. She peered into the darkness, forcing her eyes to see. \u201cGoddess?\u201d<\/p>\n When Diana didn\u2019t answer, she continued on, a little faster. Her back crawled; something was watching her every move.<\/p>\n …<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=”2_5″ _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_image src=”https:\/\/www.rhondaparrish.com\/home\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/4-Lupa-scaled.jpeg” title_text=”4-Lupa” admin_label=”Lupa image” _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row column_structure=”2_5,3_5″ _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_column type=”2_5″ _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_image src=”https:\/\/www.rhondaparrish.com\/home\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/5-King-Edgar-scaled.jpeg” title_text=”5-King Edgar” admin_label=”King Edgar Image” _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][et_pb_column type=”3_5″ _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_text admin_label=”Edgar Text” _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default” hover_enabled=”0″ sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n Excerpt from “The Tale of King Edgar” by L.S. Johnson:<\/strong><\/p>\n Upon his return he finds that the red-faced, squalling creature has been transformed: in its place is a plump, scrubbed baby with a somber gaze that makes Edgar look away. A gaze designed, it seems, for him alone; for everyone else Prince Bertram is all smiles. Sometimes Edgar, king of everything as far as his eye can see, is left standing for several heartbeats without proper acknowledgment while the women fuss over the cradle.<\/p>\n When Edgar looks upon that solemn, staring face\u2014so like yours<\/em> the women coo\u2014for the first time he feels the specter of death.<\/p>\n In honor of Bertram\u2019s first birthday, Edgar hosts three days of games and competes in them himself. He jousts and wrestles, shrugging off his retinue\u2019s concern. He even wounds one of his knights, crippling the man; still Edgar feels driven by some nameless thing in his belly, something serpentine and barbed whose squirming makes him fidget on his throne and toss in his bed.<\/p>\n …<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”]<\/p>\n If you enjoyed these excerpts and want to read more, pick up a copy of Arcana<\/em> which is available now:<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.rhondaparrish.com\/home\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/03\/ArcanaFrontCover750x519.jpg\")
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