I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving—with family, friends, or a bit of quiet time if that’s what you needed. My heart’s with those who find this season hard, missing faces no longer at their table. We hadn’t planned to host this year, but plans changed (as they do). I ended up smoking a turkey, starting at 4 a.m. It turned out great—despite some new smoker equipment that didn’t want to cooperate.

A few changes to the newsletter:

I’ve removed the opt-outs for family updates and the Indie Showcase—they just weren’t working right. Kit now has a reader preferences feature I might try when time allows.
I’m moving to a once-a-month cadence instead of fortnightly. The newsletter used to be my accountability partner, forcing progress on my books. But then it got caught selling black-market Girl Scout cookies, and now I can’t trust it anymore. (Okay, I don't really understand what changed, but I need to try something different.)
Apologies to those who joined recently—apparently my intro sequence wasn’t even working. (Blame the newsletter's cookie racket.)

Donating Blood

My oldest daughter invited me to join her in donating blood the day after Thanksgiving. I've had a couple of occasions where they've sent me away due to high blood pressure, so I try to stay very calm while they stick a plastic thermometer under my tongue, prick my finger, then wrap a cuff around my arm. I sighed with relief when my pressure was fine, thinking I'd dodged another bullet. Then I noticed the queer look on the nurse's face.

"Do you feel okay?"

My quick survey—had I sneezed, had I coughed—likely came off as deceitful. "I feel fine," I said. Too brightly. But I did!

"Hmm. You can't give blood unless your body temp is above 95." She points a suspicious contraption at my head and thumbs the trigger on it. Beep. "Hmmm."

"What? What's my temperature?"

"This says 80."

80? No way. "What did the tongue thermostat say?"

"It didn't even register a temperature."

Eep!

"Why don't you go walk around the waiting room for ten minutes and lets try again."

"Okay." I start rubbing my hands together like I can start a fire with them while wondering how foolish I would look if I did a few push-ups. Somehow, the ten minutes passed.

"Ready?"

"Sure."

She points the strange device at my head again. Beep.

"Well?"

"Even lower."

I'll admit, at this point I was pretty excited. My super power had finally manifested! I mean, I'd prepared for more of a Prof X psionic situation, but freezing things would be cool too (no pun intended).

"Let me go get another thermometer."

Beep.

"This one says 95."

They let me give blood. But, and hear me out, all we really know is that ONE of those thermometers was broken. And she had every reason to want to take my blood. Soooo, if the world seems to get a bit colder over the next few months...

I mentioned last newsletter that Shepherds went off for structural editing. For my previous book, I kept writing during edits—it made the merge chaotic. This time, I’m taking a break while my editor works through it. Plus, I needed a breather. There are plenty of reasons, but we could tie them all up with a single bow: life is hard.

Update: my structural editor returned Shepherds. She expressed angst with the ending... seat-belts on, everybody, for your own safety.

While I wait, I’ve tinkered with ads—some flopped worse than a soggy pie crust (see “life is hard” above). I also tried an Instagram AI tool called Zeely. It’s interesting but not love at first sight; I’ll finish the trial since I already paid for it.

I’ve also started a new batch of ads to grow my email list. Everyone says “your list is your most powerful tool.” I believe them—if only I could find the instruction manual. If I accidentally mailed it to you, please send it back. I need the right cantrip to activate its POWER… or at least figure out which direction it’s supposed to be pointing.

Anywho, that’s where my time’s gone since the last newsletter—between the day job, kids’ homework, fixing fridges, troubleshooting Wi-Fi for friends, and smoking turkeys. (None of which has agreed to join my critique group. Even the turkey declined.)

All books by Steven J. Morris

Indie Author Showcase

The Volcan Knights: Origins

by Laurie Bowler

When darkness bleeds into reality, five immortal warriors stand between humanity and cosmic annihilation.

Marcus was a Roman centurion. Gabriel, a plague doctor. Sean, a Celtic warrior. Kamal, an Egyptian scholar. James, a medieval strategist. Separated by centuries, united by a singular purpose: they have been transformed by divine beings called Nephilim into the Volcan Knights—supernatural guardians wielding blessed steel against an ancient evil that devours human souls.

For a year, they have hunted the Devourers—shadow creatures that slip through dimensional barriers to consume consciousness itself. But the manifestations are growing stronger, more intelligent, and disturbingly coordinated. Something vast and malevolent is directing them from beyond the boundaries of reality.

When the knights discover the true scale of the threat—not just scattered monsters but a coordinated invasion that could transform all consciousness into extensions of corrupted will—they must evolve from reactive hunters into strategic warriors. But the cost of fighting cosmic horror is devastating: brothers fall, love becomes weaponised vulnerability, and the psychological warfare is as deadly as the physical combat.

As dimensional barriers collapse and thousands of Devourers prepare to flood the mortal realm, an unprecedented sacrifice offers desperate hope. But victory will require more than blessed swords and supernatural strength. It will demand everything the knights have left—their humanity, their brotherhood, and their willingness to continue fighting when every tactical assessment suggests defeat is inevitable.

A dark fantasy epic of immortal warriors, cosmic horror, and the ultimate question: what makes consciousness worth preserving when corruption promises an end to all suffering?

Claire Beckett and the Transfer of Power

by Molly Chase

My new ability could get me killed.

I’m Claire Beckett, the newest detective in Crescent City. And I can see runes around dead bodies. Life would be perfect if I didn’t have to deal with the werewolf mayor and finding out that my mother lied to me about her ties to this place.

Bodies are dropping throughout the city, similar to a group of cold cases I’ve found. The killer’s ready to kill again and if history has anything to do with it, he’ll continue to hunt until he’s had his revenge.

But the more we keep digging, connections to both me and my partner amp up the need to find this killer and get him behind bars before the city begins to panic.

The Crown of Stones: Magic Price

by C.L. Schneider

What if you were born with an addiction to magic? What if your pleasure meant their pain?

The brutality of war was all Ian Troy had ever known. Peace was all he ever wanted. Fate had other plans when it placed the Crown of Stones, an ancient artifact of untold power, into his battle-weary hands. He defied his lover, the queen, and with one reckless wish, ended a conflict that had been tearing the realms apart since before he was born. But the cost was unthinkable.

A decade later, Ian is still haunted by that tragic day. Running from the blood in his veins and on his hands, he struggles to forget—what he’s done and what he is. But when a fateful encounter with a pretty assassin brings his past crashing into the present, denial is no longer an option.

Hunted by enemies, old and new, with the realms burning and kings dying, Ian becomes embroiled in a violent race for control of the Crown of Stones. As the death toll mounts, and the deceptions unfold, his path becomes clear. To save the realms, Ian must embrace the one thing he fears most: his own power.

*Winner of the Bronze Medal for Epic Fantasy in the 2017 Readers' Favorite Book Awards

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May you get lost this week in another world.