Corvidae (ebook)
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Anthology edited by Rhonda Parrish.
Series: Rhonda Parrish's Magical Menageries
Fantasy and Horror / Short Story Anthology
Release Date: July 7, 2015
eBook
Anthology: Approx. 64,000 words / 234 pages
Also available as a trade paperback
Find it Online:
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Barnes & Noble
Books-A-Million
Goodreads
Independent Bookstores
iTunes/Apple iBooks
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Wholesale: Ingram or direct: World Weaver Press.
Other books in the series: Fae (1), Corvidae (2), Scarecrow (3), Sirens (4), Equus (5)
eBook purchases through World Weaver Press website include downloads of both Mobi (for Kindle) and ePub (for most other ereaders).
Series: Rhonda Parrish's Magical Menageries
Fantasy and Horror / Short Story Anthology
Release Date: July 7, 2015
eBook
Anthology: Approx. 64,000 words / 234 pages
Also available as a trade paperback
Find it Online:
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Books-A-Million
Goodreads
Independent Bookstores
iTunes/Apple iBooks
Kobo
Wholesale: Ingram or direct: World Weaver Press.
Other books in the series: Fae (1), Corvidae (2), Scarecrow (3), Sirens (4), Equus (5)
eBook purchases through World Weaver Press website include downloads of both Mobi (for Kindle) and ePub (for most other ereaders).
DescriptionAssociated with life and death, disease and luck, corvids have long captured mankind’s attention, showing up in mythology as the companions or manifestations of deities, and starring in stories from Aesop to Poe and beyond.
In Corvidae birds are born of blood and pain, trickster ravens live up to their names, magpies take human form, blue jays battle evil forces, and choughs become prisoners of war. These stories will take you to the Great War, research facilities, frozen mountaintops, steam-powered worlds, remote forest homes, and deep into fairy tales. One thing is for certain, after reading this anthology, you’ll never look the same way at the corvid outside your window. Featuring works by Jane Yolen, Mike Allen, C.S.E. Cooney, M.L.D. Curelas, Tim Deal, Megan Engelhardt, Megan Fennell, Adria Laycraft, Kat Otis, Michael S. Pack, Sara Puls, Michael M. Rader, Mark Rapacz, Angela Slatter, Laura VanArendonk Baugh, and Leslie Van Zwol. ContentsA Murder of Crows by Jane Yolen
Whistles and Trills by Kat Otis The Valravn by Megan Fennell A Mischief of Seven by Leslie Van Zwol Visiting Hours by Michael S. Pack The Rookery of Sainte-Mère-Église by Tim Deal The Cruelest Team Will Win by Mike Allen What Is Owed by C.S.E. Cooney Raven No More by Adria Laycraft The Tell-Tale Heart of Existence by Michael M. Rader Sanctuary by Laura VanArendonk Baugh Knife Collection, Blood Museum, Birds (Scarecrow Remix) by Sara Puls Flying the Coop by M.L.D. Curelas Postcards from the Abyss by Jane Yolen Bazyli Conjures a Blackbird by Mark Rapacz Seven for a Secret by Megan Engelhardt Flight by Angela Slatter ExcerptFrom Whistles and Trills by Kat Otis:
“There’s a field maybe a mile from the train, at your two o’clock,” Morgaine offered, trying not to think about who might have been on the train. Maybe it had derailed years ago and just been abandoned. Maybe the storm had finished off its crew. Or maybe they were about to go down into enemy fire. “Right-oh.” Walter altered their heading. Morgaine grabbed her pocket checklist and began calling out the list for Walter. Gas. Undercarriage. Mixture. Prop. Then there was nothing to do but brace herself for impact. The front wheels touched down first. Bounced up. Set down again. Then the tail wheel was down. They were going fast–too fast–but for a moment Morgaine hoped. Then the Mosquito nosed over with a crash of wood and ice shattering. ~*~ Morgaine woke to the sound of tapping. She blinked open her eyes and found herself hanging from her harness, staring straight down at the ground. Walter hung limply from his own harness below and to the side of her. The tapping was coming from above her, a maddening rhythm that didn’t quite synch with the pounding in her skull. Blearily, she lifted her head to look through the cracked canopy. There was a wickedly sharp yellow beak, inches from her face. Morgaine yelped in shock and jerked against the harness. Bird. A bird staring at her with preternatural intelligence as it finally stopped its tapping, which meant it wasn’t just any bird–it was a corvid. She racked her memory, trying to determine what kind and whether it was friend or foe. Its black feathers could have belonged to any number of corvidae subspecies. Red legs meant nothing to her. But their current location, high in the Alps, limited options considerably. The Alpine choughs were an aloof species, generally more concerned with their own nests than global politics. That didn’t mean they would be happy when Allied airplanes crash-landed near those nests. From The Cruelest Team Will Win by Mike Allen I could tell right away this woman had a spirit shadow. It loomed dark around her in my second sight, even though the day was bright. Grey flared from the temples of her pageboy to frame a narrow face split by sensuous, disproportionately wide lips. She could have been twenty or sixty, her features smooth but not youthful. Behind her a single strand of blue spiderweb rose straight into the sky, and behind that I recognized the same webbing, cocooning the station wagon and the poor couple inside it. The driver’s side door was ajar, bound that way by the webbing. I wasn’t going to get my paycheck. The woman stepped onto the porch, raising her fist as if she intended to knock. Then her dark eyes narrowed and I had a second to realize she was staring right at me through the door. I leaped back and stretched my wings. She changed, too, her fangs missing my head by less than an inch as she phased right through the wood. A spider large as a minibus, legs longer than my wings, glared at me with eight eyes like black pearls embedded in coal-shiny hide. Her form flowed straight through the walls of the house as if they weren’t there, just like mine did as I beat my wings in thunderous panic, shoving as much air between us as I could, my heart shrieking with fear. I flapped fully into the land of spirits, leaving behind the world of flesh. Surrounded by the sourceless silver light of the spirit realm, I risked a look back and discovered the spider had followed me, clambering after me at terrifying speed on her single strand of blue thread. Excerpt from Sanctuary by Laura VanArendonk Baugh That was a setup if ever Sophie had heard one. “Want to see her newest trick? We’ve been practicing.” “Something I haven’t seen yet?” “Not quite like this. Come on.” Sophie started after Anabel. “We can’t work too long; we got in an orphaned raccoon this afternoon, so Tamika’s going to try to squeeze in a quick visit here between her regular appointments and her cousin’s wedding rehearsal. But this’ll be quick.” Sophie lifted Anabel onto the table and positioned herself beside Jun. She turned her palms up and gestured to Jun and herself. “How many people are here?” Annabel looked from Sophie to Jun and then back at Sophie. She hopped to the rack of answer signs and pecked the green circle. One. “No, you silly bird,” chided Sophie with an embarrassed smile. “Try that again. How many people are here?” Annabel made a little caw of annoyance and pecked the green circle. One. “I’m telling you, she’s been dead right each time for the last two weeks,” Sophie began to explain. “I don’t know what—” She stopped, looking at Jun. He stood absolutely still, staring at Annabel. From Knife Collection, Blood Museum, Birds (Scarecrow Remix) by Sara Puls One for sorrow Renee is sitting on the chilly bathroom floor, skirt bunched up at her waist. This is her battle stance; this is nothing new. A moment’s hesitation, then a quick flick of the wrist: she cuts her thigh with a silver-toothed knife and crows drip out. They don’t take form until they reach the floor, but Renee felt their weight even before her skin gave way. There are two crows today. One hooded, tipped with a brush of grey, the other an inky black so rich and deep it almost looks blue. The corvids are still for just a moment before they shake bright blood from their feathery frames—make abstract paintings on the walls. Renee wonders if the splatter holds some sort of truth that might set her free from this hell. She tears a scrap of toilet paper from the roll and presses it to her leg. The paper is cheap and rough; it irritates more than it soothes. In truth, she doesn’t want to lose her blood-borne crows. She has grown accustomed to their presence, their flutter and flight. She’s terrified, fucking terrified, of being alone. Peeling the blood-sticky toilet paper from her skin, she wads it in her palm, and sighs. Michael would be pissed if he knew. About the knife collection, the blood museum, the crows. But mostly he’d be pissed that after all this—three years, countless hugs and kisses, so many sticky-bodied bouts beneath the sheets—she still feels like a scarecrow, stuck out in a field. Cold and forlorn. At least, that’s how she imagines scarecrows might feel—if they could. She’s never seen one smile. She’s never seen one and smiled herself. Enough about scarecrows. Renee has real, live crows to manage. AnthologistRhonda Parrish is a master procrastinator and nap connoisseur but despite that she somehow manages a full professional life. She has been the publisher and editor-in-chief of Niteblade Magazine for over five years now (which is like 25 years in internet time) and is the editor of the benefit anthology Metastasis, as well as the World Weaver Press anthologies Fae, Scarecrow, and Corvidae. In addition, Rhonda is a writer whose work has been included or is forthcoming in dozens of publications including Tesseracts 17: Speculating Canada from Coast to Coast and Imaginarium: The Best Canadian Speculative Writing. Her website, updated weekly, is at rhondaparrish.com.
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Praise“What an amazing group of stories!”
— Tangent “Smart and dark like the corvids themselves, this excellent collection of stories and poems will bring you a murder of chills, a tiding of intrigue, a band of the fantastic, and—most of all—an unkindness of sleepy mornings after you've stayed up too late reading it!” — Karen Dudley, author of Kraken Bake “Corvidae evokes the majesty and mischief of corvid mythologies worldwide—and beyond our world—in a collection that is fresh and thoroughly enjoyable.” — Beth Cato, author of The Clockwork Dagger “Magic and corvids collide in this certain to intrigue anthology.” — Joshua Klein, hacker and inventor of the crow vending machine “A creepy, crazy kaleidoscope of corvids,Corvidae is what happens when you bring together ingenious writers and sagacious subjects. It’s nothing short of a thrill ride when this anthology takes flight.” — Susan G. Friedman, Ph. D., Utah State University; behaviorworks.org. “As sparkling and varied as a corvid’s hoard of treasures, Corvidae is by turns playful and somber, menacing and mischievous. From fairy tale to steampunk adventure, from field of war to scene of crime, these magical birds will take you to places beyond your wildest imaginings.” — Jennifer Crow, poet and corvid-by-marriage "I’ve looked forward to reading Corvidae ever since editor Rhonda Parrish put out a submission call, and it did not disappoint." — Jo Wu |