I’m proud to announce that today marks an exciting new step in my writing journey! But first, a proper introduction.

My name is Leland, and I write science fiction and crime stories. Most take place in the future, some are set in my home state of Alaska, and many contain hints of the otherworldly and unexplained.

I’ve been writing for the better part of 25 years, and for most of that time I wrote for myself. Writing was and is my escape from the grim grasp of reality. It’s a ray of light in a dark world.

In October of 2017 I published a cyberpunk science fiction novel called Necrotic City; and as of now I’m working on the sequel and a couple of other novel-length projects. I also run a weekly blog where I share flash fiction, short stories, reviews, and my thoughts on our high tech, low life world.

Money is tight, and because of the Other Job that pays the majority of my bills, so is writing time. My goal is to be able to write full time, so I’m trying something new: I’m launching a Patreon page.

I know there are a lot of you out there who enjoy my writing. Whether it’s the sequel to Necrotic City, my short stories and flash fiction, or my reviews and writing advice, becoming my patron is a great way to make it possible for me to create more of the content you love.

For as little as $2 a month you can gain access to at least one piece of brand-new fiction per month, excerpts from works in progress, deleted scenes, and exclusive insights into the weird worlds I create. If you think about it, that’s a pretty good deal. Virtually nothing in life is that cheap– not even a cup of coffee.

Kindly stop by my Patreon and check out the reward tiers. August’s monthly rewards are already up, and there’s also some free short fiction. Whether you choose to pledge a little or a lot, your contribution is greatly appreciated!

The following excerpt is a sneak peek at one of August’s patron rewards. Enjoy!

From A Call in the dark, Available now on Patreon:

The hulking wreck of an interstellar cruiser hung above an undeveloped world, baking under the gaze of the system’s giant-class star. The wreckage should have been wholly unable to host life. Debris formed a lethal halo around it, ejected from open ports and shattered shielding. Whatever had happened to the cruiser, it had been bad.

Stellar surveys reported it had been there for some time. The wreck was a permanent fixture, an ever-present star in the night sky of the planet below. It had been there for what CF46’s human cargo would have called ‘generations.’

And yet he was reading a distress signal that no other passing ship had registered… or chosen to register.

“…emergency. …support failing! Requesting immediate assistance…”

Support me on Patreon to read the rest!

A  q&A about my patreon launch

Q: Oh no! Does this mean you won’t be posting flash fiction and short stories for free on your blog anymore?

A: Absolutely not! I plan to continue posting here as I have been. Supporting me on Patreon is a way to access additional content and show your support for the stuff I create. 

Q: Isn’t asking for additional money from your readers kind of, you know, greedy? You already get paid when people buy your book(s).

A: The vast majority of the content I create is free, but at the end of the day I still need to eat. I want to make a full-time career out of writing, and that means I need to do one of two things: focus my effort purely on for-profit writing, or explore additional sources of writing-related revenue. I’m hoping that in addition to providing my fans with more awesome content, Patreon will act as a tip jar for those who enjoy my work.

Have questions I haven’t answered here? Feel free to ask them in the comment section. And remember, whether you choose to support me on Patreon or not, I appreciate you. Thank you for reading the things I write. You rock!

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storm and rocks in the North Pacific

When the body of an influential visitor washes up on a remote Alaskan beach, Danny, Ava, and Cam find themselves in a storm of trouble.
Part I
Part II
Part III

“Is he gone?” Ava asked, her voice barely audible above the falling rain and the rush and splash of the tide.

Danny scanned the network of docks and the rainy gray ocean beyond as he lifted the last crab pot onto the pier. He nodded.

Neither of them mentioned what had just happened as they finished unloading the skiff, but the image of the Village Public Safety Officer pulling his weapon and pointing it at her remained frozen in Ava’s mind. All because she’d been hungry and picked the wrong moment to pull a meal bar out of her pocket.

Continue reading “Between A Rock & A Storm Part IV: Ava”

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storm and rocks in the North Pacific

When the body of an influential visitor washes up on a remote Alaskan beach, Danny, Ava, and Cam find themselves in a storm of trouble. New to this series? Check out Part I here  and Part II here.

Meet Kedric introduces a new character to the narrative, law enforcement officer Scott Kedric. In Alaska, law enforcement aren’t always the good guys– and Officer Kedric is no exception.

Village Public Safety Officer Scott Kedric hated the rain, which made it especially ironic that he was perpetually posted where the weather did little else.

The sedate drizzles of summer had given way to August and September’s storms, and the trailing edge of some big tropical number was hammering the Alaskan coast for all it was worth. Icy rain pelted his face with the ferocity of thrown gravel and trickled in cold rivulets down his collar. Kedric gritted his teeth as he eased the state-issued watercraft around the docks, hunting for a tell-tale flash of bright blue.

A delegation of Resource Management officials had arrived on a private flight that morning, and already one of the city slickers was missing. He’d wandered away from the group’s minder as the delegation toured the waterfront tourist shops.

A former banker from Oregon, Randall Johnson brought investment savvy and a hint of greenie tree-hugger sensibilities to the State’s Board of Resource Management. It was common knowledge that he wasn’t well-liked by the pro-Conlin crowd, and there were plenty of off-duty miners out despite the rain. Resource Management wasn’t particularly well liked by the Alaska Native population, either, so it was anybody’s guess who’d nabbed the guy.

Unfortunately it fell to VPSO Kedric to find the man, or whatever was left of him. Kedric swore under his breath and fervently wished that someone could have offed the greenie in decent weather. Preferably in a village that wasn’t in his jurisdiction.

Continue reading “Between A Rock & A Storm Part III: Meet Kedric”

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storm and rocks in the North Pacific

When the body of an influential visitor washes up on a remote Alaskan beach, Danny, Ava, and Cam find themselves in a storm of trouble. New to this series? Check out Part I here.

The surf roared against the narrow beach, and an icy rain pelted their faces as the trio stared at each other over the body of the dead visitor in the bright blue parka. Ava was the first to speak.

“I think he must be from out of state. They’re the only ones who wear parkas in August.”

“I recognize this guy,” Danny said. “I saw him getting off the plane that came in this morning. He’s one of the Resource Management guys who came to meet with the ‘Ammas. They were all bundled up like they expected a snow storm.”

“Good riddance,” Cam spat.

“This is bad,” Ava said, chewing her lip. “Think they’re looking for him yet?”

Continue reading “Between A Rock & A Storm Part II: A Clue”

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Congratulations! You survived another week.

Your joy at finally reaching the point where you can get a full night’s sleep is tempered by the realization that the weeks are going by faster and faster, and you’re not getting anywhere. You’re just getting a little more tired and a little farther behind each time. It’s like Tetris: your reward for completing each level is to do it over, but faster and more challenging.

You succeeded at becoming your department’s auditor! How would you like to also teach company-wide classes on a subject of great legal importance to the company’s continued operation? You’ll need to jump from thinking like an auditor to thinking like an instructor. You’re also going to need to write your own curriculum, because it turns out that we don’t really have one. And yes, we expect you to accomplish all that while continuing to perform your current duties.

Wow, you did a really good job on those classes! The training department is highly impressed. How’d you like to do all of the above while training a revolving group of new hires?

Continue reading “Don’t Blink: A Flash Fiction”

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storm and rocks in the North Pacific

Steely grey swells rolled under leaden skies as Danny steered the skiff around the tip of Dog-Ear Point. He released the throttle and let the craft glide to a stop beside the faded plastic buoy that marked one of his family’s few remaining crab pots. Ava snagged the chain with her boat hook, and together she and Cam hoisted the pot into the skiff.

“Empty,” Cam spat. “Munchers even took the bait.”

“We’ll reset it after the storm passes.” Danny chose not to comment on the fact that it was their tenth and final empty pot of the day. If they didn’t get lucky in the tide pools, none of them would be having dinner.

Continue reading “Between A Rock & A Storm”

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Blood & Bluegrass

Author’s note: Blood and Bluegrass takes place immediately after the events of The Moon Buck. If you haven’t already, take a moment to give the previous story a read!

The tracks were the same.

Annabelle stared at the impressions in the muddy leaf mold, ears ringing from a sudden surge of adrenaline.

The story was there, trampled by the searchers that found her sweetheart’s body, the coroner, sheriff, and crime scene investigators.

Jeremiah’s tracks picked their way through the brush from the road. He’d staggered mid-step and fallen to his knees, his boots cutting gouges in the dirt. A larger set of tracks followed his, superimposed over his prints in a few places but the same age. The tread on the second set of boots was chunky, size fourteen, and brand new. Their owner was standing right behind her, calling her name.

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Moon Buck

It felt like Jimmy’d walked up and punched him in the back. Jeremiah staggered forward, the sound of the gunshot ringing in his ears as a fine spray of blood erupted from his chest. His legs went weak. Glancing back toward the truck, he saw Jimmy lowering the hunting rifle from his shoulder.

“Why?” he whispered. Jimmy didn’t seem to hear him.

Ahead, though the moonlit clearing where they’d been stalking deer, the shadow of a massive buck raised its head. Strangely it hadn’t bolted at the sound of the shot. Footsteps crunched across dead leaves, and then Jimmy stood over him, face impassive.

Continue reading “The Moon Buck”

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The Red Wind of an Alien World

The wind wailed through the remains of the outpost, burying corroded machinery in a shifting tide of fine red silt.

“This is pointless,” Lyndie said, not for the first time, from the right seat of the lander. “You think there’s going to be anything salvageable left in there?” He waved a scarred hand at a cavernous hole in the side of one of the derelict hangars.

“With that asteroid field up there? I think so,” Neff grunted back. “I don’t see many scavengers risking their lives for the chance at the scrap from an outpost this small.”

Lyndie snorted. “We did. And scrap? More like battery packs. Weapons. Field generators. Maybe even antigrav flyers. Just look at the size of those buildings. This wasn’t no farmers’ outpost!”

“Exactly,” Neff growled, piloting the battered craft to a gentle touchdown on a field of silt. “Good stuff. Stuff we need.”

“Think we’re the only ones to have that idea?” his copilot shot back. “Either everything good is long gone, or it’s booby-trapped. Remember Prima-5-Centauri? The FCP doesn’t leave their outposts for looters.”

“Who says its a FCP post?” Neff grumbled as he pulled on his helmet and locked its seal to the collar ring of his EVE suit.

“Oh, great. Alien tech. I feel so much better.” Lyndie’s sarcasm was apparent even over the radio connection afforded by the sealed extra-vehicular exploration suits.

“Could be some exploration firm’s abandoned field station. Quadrant’s littered with ‘em.” Neff pulled his rifle from the charging station and popped the hatch.

Continue reading “Wind of an Alien World”

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The Moon Festival has come to the riverfront slums: a time when ghosts and shadows walk the streets, returning to visit their loved ones. Some visitors are more welcome than others.

This is the third installment of a three-part series. New to the story? Start here!

Continue reading “Ghosts and Shadows”

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