Reviews from contributor copy, will omit our own from the ratings. Loved the idea behind this anthology, the vast majority of men and women in uniform aren't frontline fighters but those also serve who turn a wrench, stir a pot, or deliver the mail. 
​ Another Man's Treasure, by Ted Begley: Charming story of a logistics boffin wheeling, dealing, and making a continuous series of trades starting with expired MREs and ending with...well, it's a spoiler, but it's a hilarious series of events, all framed in said shuttle driver's dressing-down by his sergeant. *****
   Al in Logistics, by Addison Reid: Classic sci-fi short story premise, but told through a milSF lens. "Hide the AI" stories are all about the final discovery, and it's told well here. ****
   Manifest Destiny, by D. S. Ligon: Cryo-tech and a janitor save the day on a battle station under attack by aliens. Fun premise, exactly the kind of "lower decks personnel save the day" story I'd hoped to see in this series. *****
    Composting Status: Offline, by Xavier Anderson: Great little mystery where it's not about figuring out who did the crime, but how to solve the crime and exonerate the innocent being framed for it. For an anthology often about misappropriating military supplies, it's nice to see one story that makes it clear that not all theft is equal. Well-written. *****
   The Shell Script of Destruction, by T. R. Benjamin: Nice to see not every story is logistics or custodians, now we're in Bureau of Weapons. This one's a quick-hit sci-fi "figure out the technical problem" story that manages to be gripping and urgent, I like it. *****
   Masters of Mechamagic, Z. M. Renick: This one will be controversial. Everything else here is milSF, this is firmly in the "High Fantasy" genre. The fantasy mages here are technically backline support staff for the POG designation, but it ends with spell-slinging magi-battles, so it's not backline, either. I like fantasy so I was fine with this. ****
   Snipe Hunt, by Jason B. Hobbs: Another charming quick-hit, this time about a private being sent out on a snipe hunt where the snipe is (oops) actually real, leading to a snipe hunt of the snipe hunter. Classic "so no shit there I was..." story that feels very authentic, I love that stuff. *****
   Revision 12, by Daryl F. Mallett: I'm a sucker for this story, which is "officious bureaucratic clerk saves the day by reading the manual". If you want to make an argument that any story involving someone reading a tech manual is fantasy I won't fight you, but it's got good sci-fi action and I enjoyed it. 
   Life of a Deliveryman, by B. K. Gibson: This one was ours. We're really proud of it, an action-comedy adventure featuring deckhands and engineers as a small but heroic cog in a very large machine. It was a blast to write this one. 
   Sudden Death Overtime, by Malory: Final story in the anthology is a hilarious story about a bunch of radar operators misusing sensors to catch a rugby match and letting in a lot more than they bargained for. Personal favorite of the whole collection, this thing is funny throughout and has some genuine peril and stakes, too. Love it. ***** 

   I​t's here... MilSciFi about the People Other than Grunts.  We wrote a logistics ship story, and there's also stories about mechanics, medics, comms guys, etc. There's adventure to be had over on the beans-and-bullets side of the house too. Several made me genuinely laugh out loud. I'll be doing capsule reviews again for each story, really enjoyed this one.
   Check it out here. It's on Kindle Unlimited too if you prefer paying nothing at all for it.

As mentioned, last week the Mercs and Mayhem anthology dropped with our short story In the Company of Shepherds included. We’re proud of our own story, of course, but I thoroughly enjoyed the rest, too. Here’s a quick set of reviews…

Muck by Ken Lizzi (Military Fantasy)- Our opening story is about a squad of low-lifes sneaking around inside a fortified town trying to let in the rest of their mercenary company, ending with a tense infiltration via sewer grate. I liked the setting’s magic rules, where wizards are basically high-powered WMDs that hire mercs for proxy wars rather than blow up everything. Definitely D&D-able. ****

Angles of Indenture by Spearman Burke (Military Sci-fi)- Hyper-corporate future where indentured hilariously mercenary mercs fight. They’re all in hock up to their eyebrows so everything up to and including band-aids are calculated in battles. Nice bit of backstabbery in the end. Definitely RPG-able, but even moreso I think this would make for a really classic looter-shooter. *****

Dogs of Salt and Coin by Kabilova Diyora (Matchlock Sword and Sorcery) – Somewhat dreamlike story, high on style, about a mercenary company entering into a salt-crusted valley filled with revenants and getting themselves well and truly cursed. Every word of language here is handcrafted to be maximally euphonious, makes for one heck of a read. Definitely D&D-able. *****

Over the Hills and Far Away by Malory (Near-Future Thriller) – First-person story told from the perspective of an old mercenary, focused on his mission to deliver an orphaned little girl (carrying a technological secret) through an urban zoo, chased by rivals. Simple but incredibly well-written and very tightly paced. Definitely a solid modern RPG scenario. *****

Power Play by T. A. Leederman (Military Sci-fi) – This is one of your bog-standard powered-armor-mercenaries-hired-by-treacherous-corporation-get-betrayed-and-get-their-revenge stories, notable for including a geriatric granny-medic and a lot of worldbuilding hints. Probably slightly over-charactered, but the throughline of grandma is good. Definitely Traveller-albe.  ****

For Theirs is the World by Jason M. Waltz (Military Alt History) -A small A-Team band led by one Captain Smiler faces off against another mercenary band led by a nutjob. At first I was going to slap this one with another Military Fantasy tag but there’s no magic here, just 1600’s tech and shenanigans. Really enjoyed the distinctive personalities of each member of the A-Team on this one. Definitely D&D-able. *****

In the Company of Shepherds by B. K. Gibson (Military Fantasy) – Our own story, about a mercenary company of our vaguely Grecian Three Seas setting fighting a polis’ brave defenders, told from the perspective of Philon the slave-scribe. So far everyone who’s read it has said they’d like to see more in the world and with the magic, so…great news there! Shepherd, the first novel in the trilogy set here, will be out next year. You know it’s D&D-able.

Mind and Machine by Nathan Slemp (Military Sci-fi) – Another mech merc story, this time with the mechs and the mercs working as combat teams in a Bolo-esque partnership. Stylish, in and out at a tight pace, with a bit of unsettling classic sci-fi horror tinging the middle. Solid RPG scenario. ****

The Tomb of Mammon by Dean Stone (Paranormal Thriller) – My personal favorite of the other stories, it’s present-day with magic, deals with exploring a tomb, plenty of clever overcoming…whole thing just clicks and I really hope Mr. Stone writes more here. Not only is it D&D-able, I immediately did put a Tomb of Mammon in my ongoing campaign. *****

With Friends Like These by Nick Nethery (Military Sci-fi) – Alien bug hunt on a distant planet, taking place during a truce to let both sides’ teams work together. Action solid, bug is horrible, nice environmental set dressing, Enemy Mine friendship between the leaders is fun, pacing good. Definitely D&D-able. *****

March or Mutate by Ross Hathaway (Douglas Adams’ Fever Dream) – Like a put-upon infantryman’s version of Douglas Adams, slightly zanier. This one’s silly but it made me laugh multiple times so I was happy with it. The manic energy would wear at novel length but it’s a howler of a short story. Do not under any circumstances use this for gaming. *****

Even excluding our own, that nets 4.7 stars, with every single story entertaining, no stinkers. Really enjoyed the read here on this one. ​As a final note, I love how Rac Press illustrates every short story, does a lot for setting the tone on each piece.

   It's not just RPG adventures over here in the Casa Del Gibson. My wife (Karen) and I also write fantasy and sci-fi stories under the combined name B K Gibson. There are novels (10 of 'em complete so far) still in the production pipeline, but we also write short fiction and our very first officially published Amazon work just dropped in the form of Mercs And Mayhem, a collection of short stories about mercenaries, with settings a range of fantasy, sci-fi, and a few present-day. If that's at all up your alley, then check it out; if you have KU it's even included in your subscription. 
   I'll drop a review of the other ten stories as I read them, but our own, In the Company of Shepherds, is a fantasy story set in the World of the Three Seas, a Greek-themed world of hoplites, spirits, monsters, and the magical Shepherds, gifted individuals who stir the Passions in their fellow Citizen-Soldiers. You'll see lots of phalanx-vs-phalanx battles, mercenary intrigues and reversals, and (because it's only fitting) a good Homer quote or two. Everyone who's read the short story so far has been commenting "I really want more from this world" which, well, good news about that...this is the setting of next year's epic fantasy trilogy in the form of Shepherd, Stoic, and Strategos. We're really excited about. 
   Seriously, go check it out. It's a ton of fun. 

   A fortnight ago, I explored current Epic Fantasy in the form of Michael J. Sullivan’s popular Age of Myth. I enjoyed that book more than the review really showed, but in the end I found it both less epic and less fantastical than I’d want in epic fantasy. Why not instead try a book that’s been enthusiastically recommended to me? The hardback of A Cold and Mortal Spring was offered for borrowing by said friend but it was on sale for Kindle and I’m a weirdo who likes my e-reader, so I purchased it myself and dove right in.
  First off, a note on genre. As our extremely loud (and inaccurate) cover shows, this fantasy novel is in the ill-defined subgenre called “Flintlock Fantasy”, which means we have guns present. While that’s an immediate turn from what I think of as the “fantasy purist” tradition (Lord of the Rings on through the 70’s and 80’s Silver Age on down to Song of Ice and Fire), having guns mixed with your magic is a long tradition as well, something Jack Vance would approve of. Sure, Conan wouldn’t deal with a musket but Howard’s Solomon Kane suffered not a witch to live with a gun in his hand and buckle on his hat. This one here isn’t real-history-but-with-magic, this is full-up secondary world fiction, just know there will be ranks of musket-wielding soldiers here. And there will be soldiers, too, this is classed as Military Fantasy, which is shortened to MilF. I’d critique that abbreviation but I’m friends with the Fantasy Adventure Gaming crowd so…anyway, on to the book.
  Bottom line up front, this is a first-rate novel. Thoroughly entertaining, five stars, top-flight imaginative worldbuilding and action and intrigue, you won’t want to put it down. Spoilers will happen after this point, so if you’re adverse to them, stop now and go read this thing. I’ll wait for you.
  A Cold and Mortal Spring starts us off with a wonderful bang, with a young noble captain investigating a farming village overtaken by the Lotus, an addictive magical plant that farms the humans who eat it and turns them into obsessive gluttons. A zombie trope, with aspects of magical cursing and of course myths of real-world lotus, too, along with fears of plague. Our young captain Aethal (ÆÞal, I see you, Old English) is saved by his sentient flintlock rifle, Gun, and the loyalty of his troops. Wonderfully compelling start that feels very authentic to a 1700’s world with all the character dialogue and behavior. Grounding us like this makes for a much more epic and fantastical story than the ostensibly “epic fantasy” I reviewed before.
  Here though I must pause and render one of my two main critiques against this novel. There is no map given in the front page. This, my dear friends, is a sin for a fantasy novel. John Ronald Reuel Tolkien labored painfully as an amateur cartographer to give us Middle-earth, illustrated by hand, despite being no visual artist. In this era of free mapmaking software and ubiquitous scanners, you can give us a map. A picture is worth a thousand words but a map? One hundred thousand. Let this be an indicator of how much I enjoyed this book, it is good enough that I did not deduct a star for lack of map, which is normally automatic.
  I note this now because after the start we are thrust into the world of the Kingdom’s politics swiftly, and these are well-written politics. The kingdom occupies the last remaining livable continent on a world ravaged by Wishes from a mystical Well, granted once per human soul, with all the wonderment and strangeness that would result from that crucial bit of worldbuilding. The Well’s continent is a the Dark Continent, poisoned by centuries of wishes, and the old Empire’s continent is eaten wholly by the Lotus. Thus the kingdom here is the last civilized fortress of humanity, obsessively prepared over three centuries of exile for the reemergence of Lotus. I cannot speak highly enough of how well this is all built up, but of course people are people and nobody except for our protagonist is going to let a little looming apocalypse get in the way of political scrambling. A single honorable man in charge, with a few loyal retainers, set against corruption and petty feuds while mustering the resources of the last civilization against the end of all sentient life? Good.
  Here I must add my second critique, and while it isn’t fatal, if not controlled over the course of the series it may yet grow into a cancer. The church of the setting is controlled by a Cynical Corrupt Fanatic Pope who nihilistically believes that all life should end because it is tainted. This is a tired, tired, trope my friends. Other church leaders are shown to be kind and helpful, so not all is lost, but much hinges on the actual existence of this world’s God. There’s a danger of “evil religion as pap for the masses”, which if true in-world will undermine a lot of the mythic resonance being built up here. Tread with care.  
  We’re past the spoiler warning but I still won’t go further into describing the rest of the novel, there are twists and turns and swordfights and duels and secrets to uncover, it’s all very good. I will be reading further myself (the second book in the series has only recently come out), as this really does scratch the epic fantasy itch. Huggins is an impressive craftsman and it makes me want to check out his other series as well. It’s good to see that adventure in fantasy is not yet dead, and gives me hope that the genre may even recover from the doldrums of the late aughts and teens. 

​   We were talking about epic fantasy recently and I realized I’ve got a bit of a gap in reading “recent” epic fantasy outside of either indie things personally recommended to me or established authors I’ve enjoyed before like Correia (great), Feist (middle-brow but fun), Akers (criminally under-exposed) or Sanderson (fallen off, not interested anymore). I asked around a bit for recommendations for a good mainstream exemplar and Michael J Sullivan kept coming up. He’s extremely popular and I’ve certainly seen his covers in places but nothing about them screamed “buy me” and so I never checked him out.
   Well, now I’ve checked him out in Age of Myth, the first novel in a five-book series, published in 2016. If you want the bottom line up front…it’s good, 4 stars, well worth spending time on, would read the next book, etc. The detailed review that follows contains spoilers so if you want to avoid those and check it out yourself, you’ll probably enjoy the read.
   First off, a note about how these novels get published; Sullivan is working with a Big Five publisher for this series, but that’s not how he started and his model isn’t traditional at all. He writes all of a particular series before publishing the first book, so trilogies at first, and a five-book series this time around. This model requires patience, a steady income not reliant on immediate book sales, and a strong editorial/beta reading team to ensure heavy feedback early. The benefits of the model, to quote the author’s own forward, are that the story is sure to be resolved, and that fans don’t have to worry about a random bus leaving them George RR Martin’d. Worth it if you can do it, imo. This also feeds into Sullivan’s funding model, which seems to be starting with Kickstarters for his books, raising both funds for publication and publicity for his funds. Smart and independent model. Also, probably not viable for any author without a significant publicity base beforehand, but don’t begrudge the man his success.
  Age of Myth is set thousands of years before Sullivan’s first trilogies, in a primitive time where elves rule the known world, worshipped by inconsistently primitive Stone Age humans and shunned by dwarves who live to the south. The series’ ostensible main story is about humans killing a single elf, elves retaliating with genocide, and humans along with elf defectors defeating the Standard Issue Debauched High Elf Caste. All a reasonably standard setup for fantasy, but the worldbuilding is conveyed in a confident, clear voice and the initial setup with the human Not!Scotsman semi-accidentally killing the elf is great. Then the novel pivots and Sullivan tells the story he’d really interested in telling.
  All that previous stuff? Background. In the foreground is an extremely close story about a local village, starring the widow of the village’s old chief. The novel takes its time and looks through the eyes of Persphone at the characters of the village (okay, clan town really). She loves them, and that warm love is remarkably well conveyed in the text, even as she has to struggle with the dangers of the whole elfs-trying-to-genocide-humanity situation (don’t worry, the elves are casual about it) and a man-eating demon bear in the woods. It’s an intimate character story with a lot of local politics, and at least for most of the novel it is quite good. Its only towards the end that things become a little uneven.
  I do have a couple issues with dialogue and especially naming over the course of the novel. The first line uttered in our epic fantasy yarn? “Hey”. Followed by “okay”, “yeah”, and a whole host of other casual and contemporary word choices. Names are also wildly uneven. The village of Persphone also has a Sarah, an Iver, a Reglan, a Maeve, a Brin, a Gifford, and a Suri, just for an example. Not only are these real names from a variety of different backgrounds, but they also have a weird set of sounds to be mixed together. Both of these issues are surface-level nits but they point to a certain pedestrian lens that fights the epic ambitions of scale. Which is a pity, because I like the windowpane prose in general.
   Thankfully, magic is spared this modernism. Magic (called “The Art” by elves) is magical and often undefined, nobody casts Fireball or discusses Investiture. While talk of a demon in the villain bear is a red herring, ancient trees talk to mystics and auguries are performed by burning bones, yielding riddles that have to be followed to thwart disaster, along of course with heroic actions of daring and courage. This is how fantasy should be, and I’d forgive a thousand “okays” for that strong fundamental respect of the Old Rules.
  Sadly, the stumble at the end of the novel is about the people, not the trappings. In the end the biggest issue is that the Goodies and the Baddies shake out into All Good and All Bad, with the suspicious new chief falling to outright villainy while the old hag gets absolved of all wrongdoing by being a wronged victim in turn. Simple good-and-bad isn’t the worst sin, but the morality is extremely recent; powerful older men bad, all women but one good, young men good if crippled, escaped slave, sexy elf, or infatuated with old woman. All the expected dynamics of 1999, without granting any of the traditional power figures paths to redemption. Everyone good is well-written, with moral qualities actually extant and not just assumed due to identities. Their victories are satisfying. It’s just less mythic and more contemporary than epic fantasy that resonates with a timeless quality really should have.
   Fun read though. 

  I talk about TTRPGs and adventures a lot on this blog, but this isn't the only creative endeavor I work on. My wife and I also write novels together; we've got six written so far, most fantasy, none published yet. Self-publishing in 2024 rewards long series and multiple releases available, so the plan is to have at least one trilogy and one quadrilogy complete before going our on our own, assuming no traditional publishers bite.  Formatting and cover design are their own hassle, I can definitely post more about the state of genre publishing more if it's something that sparks interest. In the meanwhile, we've just finished off the first draft of our latest novel, Shepherd, a fantasy set in a world more Classical Greek than traditional European medieval. Here's the prologue, excerpted for your reading pleasure: 

  Shepherd
By B. K. Gibson
  Prologue
   Don’t break. Don’t run. Don’t break. Don’t run.
   Sweat blurs Philon’s vision. Blink, shake head. Shoulders, arms, and back ache. Ignore it all, keep the shield up, keep the spear up, keep pushing.
   Don’t break. Don’t run. Don’t break. Don’t run.
   “Forward, Citizens! For your polis and your gods!” It seems impossible, but the citizen to the left and the citizen to the right grind forward into the wall of bronze spearpoints ahead, so Philon pushes forward as well. A stone from a sling clangs off his helmet. The bronze dents but does not break.
   Don’t break. Don’t stop. Don’t run. Don’t stop.
   The enemy Shepherd reacts to the press, running behind the enemy line with a shout of alarm. Answering screams from Philon’s fellow citizens ripple towards him, and a wave of alien terror turns his bowels to water and his legs to jelly. The man to his right falters, his shield droops, the enemies’ spears lash forward, seeking the fresh gap in the wall. A bronze spearpoint gouges Philon’s vambrace and he almost drops his spear.
   Don’t break. Don’t run. Oh please oh please don’t break.
   “We have them! Master your passions, Citizens, and PUSH!” Determination, pride, and rage wash over Philon’s heart, chasing out fear as his own Shepherd draws near. His comrade’s shield slams up as the man shouts in anger. Philon hears his own voice join into the inarticulate chorus. Shouting, they surge forward once more.
   Don’t stop. Don’t break. Don’t stop. Push. Push. PUSH.
   Now it is the enemy line that falters. Above their shields Philon can see the white flashes of their eyes as entirely natural fear takes hold. A gap opens in the shield wall before him. He thrusts. Finds cloth and flesh, a scream of anguish erupts, with echoes up and down the line as more of the strange attackers begin to quail and fellow citizens also find their marks.
   Don’t break. Keep the line. Don’t stop. PUSH.
   Cheers and shouts of triumph steady Philon’s heart with a rekindled courage all his own. His line moves forward, their line moves back, with all the stumbles and falls that implies. More than an hour in the hot sun has everyone weary beyond belief, but both sides know what victory looks like and the men of his city stand taller, white grins flashing beneath their helms.
   Embrace the Passion of War. Don’t stop. PUSH. PUSHPUSHPUSH…
   The break happens first right before Philon’s place in the line. Overborne by the Passion of Fear, one of the enemy casts down both shield and spear and turns to flee, stabbed in his unarmored back for his trouble, but not before his cowardice infects his fellows. Now by fives and tens men cast down arms and armor and turn with wails of despair. The lines shudder, spears flashing like lightning as the enemy who still stand firm fall from their shield-mates’ abandonment.
   Don’t break. Keep in line. Don’t stop. Stay in line.
   The time for spears is soon over. Philon feels the weight of the sword on his hip. Running down the broken and shattered remains of the enemy is sword-work. Ugly work. Needed work. Wherever these strange soldiers hail from, they cannot be allowed to live to threaten the polis again. Now shields without insignia and helms with no crests are thrown off and the whole of the enemy line splinters. Shatters. Flees.
   NOW. FORWARD.
   The line roars. Legs cramp in protest but Philon joins with his fellow citizens in a run, stabbing out with his spear at enemies who trip and fall. Screams of panic from the broken enemies mix with shouts of rage from fellow citizens as the retreat becomes a rout. Hooves thunder to the left as the small company of city cavalry gallop down on the flank of the invading army. All tiredness is forgotten in the rush of victory.
The river of humanity parts around a hulking figure in grey who crouches with one hand upon the earth. Philon slows, falters, as he beholds the massive man, a rock of calm in the midst of rout. The stranger is clad head-to-toe in unadorned armor of hammered iron, crude and heavy. In middle of all the chaos, the stranger has eyes closed, meditative.
   Another wash of triumph and rage sends Philon forward again, along with all his fellows. Every Shepherd of the polis is out today, pouring every ounce of passion they can muster into their fellow citizens’ hearts, ensuring neither Fear nor Mercy stays the spears of their people. Another wave of shouts resounds from victors, reveling the day of triumph.
   Suddenly, stillness.
   Philon staggers as all rage and courage leaves him. A thrill of fear begins to churn in his guts, but now that too is stolen away. Hushed gasps expand outward as the battle goes completely still, both the winners and the defeated going to their knees in the sudden shocking calm.
   Even the whimpering of the wounded ceases.
   The only movement is from the giant of a man in the iron armor, as he lifts his head and shrugs his mighty shoulders. Philon is near enough to see a wolf-smile flash on the stranger’s face as he sighs and opens his eyes.
  Eyes as green as grass.
   Now the ground quakes, the earth parts, opening beneath Philon’s comrades all over the battlefield. Clangs and grunts sound throughout but no screams of terror, no cries of pain, no shout of confusion. The best Philon can muster is a dull curiosity as the dirt rends before and behind him, consuming his fellows in the space of a breath.
Horror should overwhelm the survivors. Three quarters of the able-bodied Citizens of the polis, gone. The flower of their city’s finest, gone in an instant.
   Sluggish, stunned, Philon rises, turns to flee over the riven field. With almost equal apathy now the strange invaders turn again to pursue.
   Philon barely feels pain when a slingstone crashes into his knee, driving him into the ground.
   He barely feels his own sorrow despite the tears rolling down his cheeks as he turns his face towards his enemies, advancing unopposed.
   He can only barely feel his heart-deep shame as the stranger advances towards him coldly, reaching for manacles of iron.