John Mark Adkison
Bio
I was raised by storytellers—towboat captains, hair dressers and summer camp counselors. They could spin a yarn to seize their audience's attention. Now, I put what I learned into practice, with maybe a little more fantastical flair.
Stories (3)
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Doughnuts at the Edge of Silence
Captain Williphexer “Pomp” Pompadour-Plotnikov sat on the most utter edge of known space, which meant all he had to look at was unknown space. And he did so with one of the last cream-filled doughnuts he would ever have. It wasn't that he was dying (at least, he hoped he wasn't), rather he would be embarking on a quest out into the unvisited regions of the universe, traveling far from all known civilizations and all known doughnut shops.
By John Mark Adkison3 years ago in Fiction
Squire Sunday
Malagaunt smelled her old foe drawing in close. His scent was hard to miss—an odor of tobacco smoke, moldy cheese, rusted armor, and countless bitter regrets. Her snout picked him out easily, even in this vast forest land with all its creatures and castles and curses.
By John Mark Adkison3 years ago in Fiction
Hatch
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. But even before they arrived, the Valley was an ugly smear of land, crowded with old bones, choked by older curses. The dragons hadn’t come to the Valley because they found it appealing. They had come purely out of a sense of impending doom.
By John Mark Adkison4 years ago in Fiction
