About Shifting Back
Edited by Rob Knight
174 pages / 67000 words
ISBN: 978-1-60370-186-0, 1-60370-186-9
Available file types - html, lit, pdf, prc
Historical werewolves. Arthurian shapeshifters. That's what Shifting Back is all about. Compiling stories from the Wild West to the lush jungles of India, Shifting Back takes on the past, giving the good old days some animal magnetism.
Sean Michael's Law of the Jungle takes on a pirate and his unexpected gift. With Wings to Fly, by Kara Larson hearkens back to Arthurian legend, and to a shapeshifter with druidic heritage. Serpents, by Angelia Sparrow and Naomi Brooks explores the world of scaled djinns and great cobras, while Cat Kane looks at the more traditional werewolf in A Matter of Choice. Finally, BA Tortuga explores old west cat people in Snake Oil. From sea battles to gun fights, Shifting Back has the best of both historical romance and the world of the shapeshifter. Get your paws on it today!
Sample
From Serpents by Naomi Brooks and Angelia Sparrow
Arqam is a curious young djinn traveling far from his Arabian home. Rakesh is a man-eating naga terrorizing the local villagers in colonial India. When Arqam is chosen as the yearly sacrifice, Rakesh finds a kindred spirit, and willing partner in sensual exploration.
Of all the djinn in all the deserts of Arabia, Arqam was the most curious. He never passed a human dwelling, as he rode the night winds, without stopping to peer inside. He never passed a chest or jar, but he had to peek within.
All the elder djinn said he would come to bad end and it was his grandmother's human blood making him such trouble. None of them were surprised the day he was taken.
Arqam had ventured far to the east, leaving behind the sand and oases of his native Arabia, into the lush jungles of India, where the foreign white men ruled the local people. He listened to the clipped accents of the English, the soft music of the Indians. He peered into bungalows and huts, disregarding the privacy of Her Royal Majesty's Major General and the lowest of the pariahs with equal aplomb.
He watched the brown women in their colorful saris and the pale ones covered and corseted and fainting in the heat. He watched the men as they worked. In time, he grew sleepy and made a hammock of vines near the outskirts of a small village.
As he lolled in the steaming night, a distant cousin found him. “Arqam,” it hissed, its low guttural voice making him uneasy.
“Yes?” He peered over the edge of the hammock and saw what had addressed him. Although ghuls were a sort of djinn, Arqam's people had little contact with them. They served Iblis and haunted the graveyards. His folk lived invisible in the air. Arqam looked around but saw no graves. “May I help you, cousin?”
“I am Shahib, the fire that consumes the dead. Why do you wander so far away? No mind, all have heard of Arqam, how he sticks his long beautiful nose into every house and everyone's business.” The ferocious little grey thing crouched beneath his hammock. “I'd check your curiosity soon enough, pretty cousin.” Shahib's laugh was ugly and he batted at the hammock.