What’s next for DVS Press

Another story is in the bag, so it is time to look forward. I’ll be making some site updates in the next few days, including improving landing page experiences and sprucing up the look and feel of the menus, as well as providing some readers guides to help people explore and dive into all the content I’ve worked so hard to create thus far.

I have a few projects in the pipe for the site, and as always, the difficulty is in deciding which one will go first. Since my last project was scifi, I think it’s time for a short trip back into fantasy:


This is the tentative title for the next project, which takes place in a fictional, magic-less fantasy universe dominated by war, religion, and the trade in drugs and forbidden technology. I’ve written two novels in the Moonsong universe so far, with neither being released just yet. They represent the first attempt I had made at writing novels, and so even now the books are full of mistakes, bad writing, bad decisions, and stylistic inconsistency. My goal with the serial publication of these works is to correct these problems, rewrite things when necessary, tighten up the pacing, and, of course, to share my work.

Sea of Stars is the first volume in the series, and contains four acts in three different locales. Right now, I’m planning on publishing one act at a time, with other works interspersed as each act finishes. I’d also like to do more illustration in the future, something I really enjoyed with Prophet of the God Seed when I had the time to get out my inks.

Deep Time: Prophet of the God Seed, Author’s Reflection

Another work of size is finished, and so it is time once again to reflect on the work – a service I do for myself as well as for any readers that might be writers themselves. It helps to think critically about a work immediately following a release when it comes to making future plans and improving the craft. Since I have the ability to edit and revise work post-hoc, such a reflection can also serve as the first baseline for revisions when and if the work changes formats (for example, if I publish a work using traditional means in…

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The Bright Children, a mythology

Travel, unfortunately, will inhibit my ability to post the next part of Deep Time’s current story, “Prophet of the God Seed.” Since the last installment was a description of Padalmo’s religious mythology I thought it would be fun to post the prologue from an upcoming fantasy work that runs in the same vein. Enjoy! The Bright Children The land of the Bright Children, the Illuminates, was a twisted world, a ruined planet. It was a land of wide untold boundaries, filled with beasts of unfathomable horror, whose dens reeked of death. Seldom were these dens found, even when they were sought…

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The Master Butcher (Halloween special aphorism)

An aphorism is different from a short story or a piece of flash fiction in that it does not seek to set up or resolve any plot. It is like a snapshot of a particular setting, character, or an expression of a feeling. The following horror aphorism is somewhat inspired by (but not derived from) a track called, “The Master Butcher’s Apron” off of Death Metal band Carcass’s last LP, Surgical Steel. Check it out if you have the time. There was a flash from the east. A burning streak split the evergrey sky, lit coldly by a blood-red sun in…

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He Should Have Taken his Gun (Halloween flash fiction special)

The point of flash fiction is to condense a story down into its barest and most essential parts. I have attempted to do this with horror, providing characters and plot points in just over 200 words. Enjoy! Julie’s hand hesitated over the buzzing phone. It was a DC area code… probably that FBI investigator again. That meant it was important, but she didn’t want to answer it. It meant hope was gone. Memories returned. It was like the beginning of a horror movie. They were in bed. Something went bump. Probably the cat again, but she had to be sure.…

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Prophet of the God Seed, part 5

Padalmo grimaced as he swallowed another spoonful of the strange, semi-solid grey substance. He would not have known it was food had he not seen the bald man slurp down half a bowl himself. Moses. I like that name. It has a godly quality to it.  He looked at the bald man, sitting in a chair beside Padalmo’s bed in the long room that made what Padalmo assumed to be part of a hospital. Now conscious, he could take in more clearly the image of the man beside him, who was tall and lean. He wore a simple set of…

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Prophet of the God Seed, part 4

Padalmo dreamt nothing more. Fala did not come to comfort him. He awoke to the sounds of machinery, humming quietly and clicking away in uncertain rhythms, and was aware of a soft repeating tone. He forced his eyes open. The ceiling was a cool white interrupted by grey lines intersecting one another in squares. He tried moving his head and found he could move slightly to either side, though it hurt gravely to do so. He could see that he was on some sort of bed, only raised off the ground a few feet. There were similar, empty ones off…

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Prophet of the God Seed, part 3

Death, at long last. Padalmo was crawling now. His legs had grown too tired and weak to continue shoveling through the sand. He got better traction crawling, though the infinitely small particles of silica slipped through his fingers like they were water. “I am a child again,” he said aloud. His voice croaked. “You must become like a child to enter the kingdom of God. So be it, either I enter now, crawling like a baby, or I become its prophet.” His mind was flooded with vivid memories of his home, the high house of Tala’Drog’Chu, the mansion of Imalmo,…

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Prophet of the God Seed, part 2

Padalmo woke to darkness. It was not the darkness of drapes drawn on the sunward side of a house during a sleep period, which was deep and overwhelming, but rather a soft, rippling diffusion of light. He could see the sand outside the rock overhang, sitting still in piles and dunes where it once was shifting. The shadow of the rock itself blended with the color of grey sand outside. A storm, Padalmo thought. There’s not supposed to be storms over this part of the desert for another quarter year. He crept out and looked at the sky. Large billows…

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Prophet of the God Seed, part 1

The desert. That is where prophets are made. Across the vast wastes of time, when each year past is but a grain of sand and each world gained and lost a chapter of a book, the desert has always meant something to men of faith. Flat, desolate, waterless… only a man of God can survive, and only with the blessing of his god, or so it seems. Karakum. The Place of Burning. Drogathalum. The Sea of Sand. It marched all the way from the mountains of drought, Staltutum, to the steaming sea, or Drog’ta. The sea was the only sure…

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