Showing results by author "Kirk Mason" in All Categories

I'm chilling behind the counter while a thicc goth babe saunters amongst the magical merchandise. Possessing a mysterious new power is pretty cool, too, especially when I'm the only person in the world who can wield it.

In a world like ours—except there's elves and goblins, so way better—Michael is dealing with some very human problems. He just fired his useless nephew as his tomb-raiding assistant. On top of that, his uncle's fallen ill, so he's got to uproot his life to look after the business, an antique shop in the city. It's full of artifacts from the age of heroes. Swords, gems, and helmets galore.

Superpowers, robots, and a saucy ghost GF—Just another day in the apocalypse. Starting over should be simple—grab some supplies, pitch a tent, and figure out where to get running water. But when you’re an all-powerful biomancer traveling with a thunder goddess who can’t let go of her training, a pink rat-thing that’s too dumb to be evil, and an AI robot lady who's almost definitely evil, things get complicated fast.

Legions of regular folk are angry at us for having what they cannot. It's up to me to lead the magi and sort out this mess, but I'm not alone. Sophia's position as headmaster of the academy will come in handy, and Misty...well, she's still a hot goth babe. And then maybe we can get back to the shop. Battlebabe Blair and ginger Frenchie Charlotte still haven't seen it.

When we rescued the first fluffy-eared princess, I didn't realize how lucky we’d been. She was a kind soul, and gentle—everything you’d imagine a sweet princess to be. Though atop the second tower, the next stripey-tailed princess bore a rage as wild as the sun. Her body burned hot like a furnace. But it was our job to help her return to normal—well, not our main job. Our journey took us from cold mountains to wild seas on a pirate ship. Our quest? To save the third—and last—princess, so we could halt The Witch King in his tracks.

One minute I’m in a tree, pointing my camera at a tiger, the next I’m on my back in a medieval fantasy world, while a skittish blonde hovers over me, hoping I’m not dead. I’ve never felt more alive. Because although the dutiful smith’s assistant warns me away from the town’s sinful witch, I still have to go. The witch has the only bestiary book in town, and that’s my one hope of a comfortable life—I don’t feel like donning knight's armor. Turns out, the bestiary is terrible—it's just primitive drawings, annotated by the tall tales of drunken adventurers. I know an opportunity when I see one.

A last expedition. There’s just one problem. Coming with me is a wild, crazy jester, and a dark, brooding witch. They’re as different as different could be, but I’ve got to help them get along—and let’s be real, it's mostly Velvet who needs helping. Not just for her sake, but for the rest of my girls too. Who knew a backflipping jester could be such a nuisance at the dinner table? And maybe, just maybe, I can get some cool photos of centaurs and ogres along the way. Let’s hope I escape with my head still intact... A certain queen is partial to it.

One moment I'm taking pictures of a fantastic sky beast, aided by a sassy witch, a pretty blonde, and a cute green goblin. The next we’re in bed for the night—and I can't get a lick of covers! This house is too small. It wasn’t meant for this many people and a bestiary business. Problem is, not a lot of folk want a goblin and a witch in their neighborhood. It’s hard to blame them. We can be loud.

The best part about being a knight is the peaceful treks across rolling hills, with nothing but gentle winds and bubbling streams for company. Unfortunately, Richard's next quest breaks that solitude. He needs to gain entry into the fabled Clawmire, and only a flighty catgirl heading the opposite way can help him. Ida is snooty and feral in equal measure. When she hunts, the wildness in her eyes ignites something inside him. When she cooks, his stomach sings an orchestra. And when she leaps into the trees wearing that short purple dress, well, a gentleman does his best not to look up.