Semiautomatic Sorceress Boxed Set One: includes: Southwest Nights, Southwest Days, and Southwest Truths

by Kal Aaron

  Years ago, I wrote a full draft for an urban fantasy featuring a sassy sorceress fond of motorcycles, mouthing off to her superiors, and taking down demons. At the time, for reasons that escape me now, I decided to set it in Chicago, a city I had only marginal familiarity with.

  Not all books deserve a final life, and although there were strong aspects of the story I enjoyed, it wasn’t ready for readership and withered away in the virtual trunk. When I was coming up with a cowrite idea, I decided to repurpose that character and shift the focus away from demons while scrapping the demon-hunting plot entirely. I went down my big list of ideas and grabbed several things I’d been dying to add into an urban fantasy book but had never gotten around to. That formed the initial skeleton for the Semiautomatic Sorceress series.

  During a lengthy meeting with Michael, we hammered out details and grew excited about the current version of the story. I’d decided to focus on Phoenix, if only because I’ve lived in Arizona for a while now and I thought it’d be nice for it to get some love.

  As a brief aside, I did live in Chicago between the time I thought of the previous book and this one. I’ll note between stints Wisconsin and Illinois, I grew to hate snow. You can’t slip on sunshine!

  Anyway, once we finished setting the general contours of the world for Semiautomatic Sorceress, Michael made an offhand comment that he thought it’d be cool if the main character had sort of a Grim Reaper/Day of the Dead vibe to her outfit. At the time, he just liked the aesthetics of the idea.

  That wasn’t originally something I’d been considering, imagining a spunkier-looking character with dyed short blue hair. We combined his aesthetic suggestion with the general setting, and that led to the idea of the regalia. It turned into a wonderful way to develop some very distinct and memorable characters both in terms of powers and costumes while also giving an in-story excuse for a sorceress to still have a secret identity in a world where the supernatural is out in the open.

  Something intriguing and cool was born out of us bouncing ideas off one another, a long dead novel, and my ideas list. It just goes to show you that you should never throw any ideas away and should always write them down.

  I’m excited to see where we can take these characters and setting in the future.

  See you soon for book two, Southwest Days!

  And thanks for reading.

  Kal

  Please note you can contact me at kalaaron@kalaaron.com. If you want to be added to my new releases mailing list, please go to https://kalaaron.com and fill out the form on the bottom of the page.

  P.S.,

  If you’re wondering about Lyssa’s demon-hunting previous life (BTW, she had a different name), that version of the character used an enchanted sword made of blood rather than guns and used it to absorb demons. Magic and monsters were all considered myths and legends.

  Other than the attitude and fondness for guns and motorcycles, not much else survived. Though I will note that, Samuel, Colonel Sanders look and all, is almost a direct port of a character from that series. Mostly, I just wanted to make the herbs and spices joke.

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  March 5, 2021

  Thank you for not only reading this new series but to the back and our author notes as well!

  For those who haven’t read my work before, I’ve provided a bit of an introduction below. For those who have read the introduction, just skip to the #GodIAmTired section below.

  A Bit About Me

  I wrote my first book Death Becomes Her (The Kurtherian Gambit) in September/October of 2015 and released it November 2, 2015. I wrote and released the next two books that same month and had three released by the end of November 2015.

  So, just at five years ago.

  Since then, I’ve written, collaborated, concepted, and/or created hundreds more in all sorts of genres.

  My most successful genre is still my first, Paranormal Sci-Fi, followed quickly by Urban Fantasy. I have multiple pen names I produce under.

  Some because I can be a bit crude in my humor at times or raw in my cynicism (Michael Todd). I have one I share with Martha Carr (Judith Berens, and another (not disclosed) that we use as a marketing test pen name.

  In general, I just love to tell stories, and with success comes the opportunity to mix two things I love in my life.

  Business and stories.

  I’ve wanted to be an entrepreneur since I was a teenager. I was a very unsuccessful entrepreneur (I tried many times) until my publishing company LMBPN signed one author in 2015.

  Me.

  I was the president of the company, and I was the first author published. Funny how it worked out that way.

  It was late 2016 before we had additional authors join me for publishing. Now we have a few dozen authors, a few hundred audiobooks by LMBPN published, a few hundred more licensed by six audio companies, and about a thousand titles in our company.

  It’s been a busy five years.

  #GodIAmTired

  I went to bed late last night after going out to eat early (4:45 reservation at Benihana) and basically played all evening without paying much attention to work. I fell into bed about midnight plus thirty and didn’t even bother undressing.

  My wife (who stays up later than me) just came in and noticed me on the bed and probably shook her head. I don’t know exactly because while I swear I was awake and spoke with her…

  I don’t remember anything.

  Fast forward to this morning, where I have one eyeball open and the other closed, trying to sleep while going through my emails.

  I had forgotten to set up a call today! I quickly emailed back, and after a few misunderstandings about time (I’m PST, he is Eastern and didn’t believe I meant “in 15 minutes,” we did an early phone call.

  The discussion on the phone was about Indie Publishing. This person was involved in the game industry and is now (thank you, Covid) based out of his home. His love is still writing and creating stories, so I encouraged him to look into what can be done if you self-publish.

  You could tell he wasn’t buying what I was selling (which was nothing more than “check out indie publishing”), but what did he have to lose? Perhaps some time.

  He checked out my suggestion to look on 20Booksto50k™ and other research before taking me up on my offer to call me and ask questions.

  Once I stumbled through getting ready this morning, I got on the phone and was pleased that he both had researched the opportunities and that my suggestion just might be a path forward for him both creatively and financially.

  That was all I could hope. Making creatives aware of self-publishing as an option for an author’s future is the proverbial leading a horse to water. What they do once they know is up to them. This gentleman called someone HE knew and spoke to them about it.

  Both were shocked by what he had learned. I realized at that moment that the second challenge is now believing what he learned.

  It’s one thing to believe the mountain exists, even when you can see it. Understanding that you can make it up the mountain is often a leap of faith, as much as a belief in oneself.

  So, whatever your passion is, I’d encourage you to learn more about it. If you are a major reader and writing is something you would like to do, know that quite a few people are making a solid living—or at a minimum, a significant addition to the family income—with self-publishing.

  I never want to forget to encourage those who wish they could write for a living. I did it, others have done it, and it’s still viable.

  Have a great weekend (or week…whenever you read this!)

  Ad Aeternitatem,

  Michael Anderle

  Southwest Days

  Semiautomatic Sorceress Book 2

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my wife. She put up with a lot of late nights when I was writing this book.

  — Kal

  To Family, Friends and

  Those Who Love

  to Read.
<
br />   May We All Enjoy Grace

  to Live the Life We Are

  Called.

  — Michael

  Chapter One

  Lyssa hoped she hadn’t driven four hundred miles for nothing. Being able to cover that distance quickly with sorcery on her bike didn’t mean it was effortless.

  Her day would grow even more annoying if the trip ended in an ambush. Wanting to get back to doing her job didn’t mean wanting to get shot at by random idiots who were too stubborn to know when they were beaten.

  There were also more exotic threats. Such was the life of a Society Torch.

  “You never know when you’re going to walk into a building looking for a friend and get jumped by some stupid magical construct that gets faster the more you hit it,” she muttered. She’d long since added her spells and was now just a normal-looking woman in a white leather jacket riding a not-so-normal bright yellow Ducati Panigale.

  “You believe trouble is coming?” Jofi asked. “You didn’t indicate such earlier.”

  Having her regalia, guns, and spirit partner reassured Lyssa. She might not be equipped for all possibilities, but that combination would let her handle almost anything capable of being solved with a bullet or an enchanted baton.

  “No,” Lyssa replied. “But I don’t trust my luck. Sometimes something as routine as picking up new ammo ends up with me fighting for my life.”

  “You’re not going to visit Miss Dale. There’s little risk of being attacked by one of her unfortunate experiments.”

  Lyssa explained, “I was using her as an example. The point stands.”

  “It’s been a month since you experienced any significant violence,” Jofi said. “You didn’t kill anyone when I wasn’t present, did you?”

  Lyssa laughed. “Not that I remember, but you never know. Some days I worry about waking up and finding out.”

  She frowned. It’d be far too easy to let Lee’s name slip out. That could lead to Jofi asking questions she wasn’t ready to answer.

  Oh, I’m sorry. That’s the name of the guy in charge, other than me, of making sure you stayed locked in my guns and ignorant of your true nature.

  “Lyssa, is there a problem?” Jofi asked.

  “No,” Lyssa admitted. “I’m spinning myself up for nothing.”

  “That’s unadvisable.”

  “I can’t disagree with that.”

  Lyssa lapsed into silence. She needed to pay more attention to her turns now that she was in Los Angeles proper.

  A Bentley with tinted windows waited far too long to make a turn at an intersection, blocking Lyssa. Her Ducati might be out of place in fancy neighborhoods less inclined toward expensive sport motorcycles, but Lyssa was in the capital of pointless excess and showing off. There was bound to be some actor in the neighborhood riding around on a bike that made hers seem like something she’d picked up from a junkyard. She smiled at the thought.

  With the Bentley out of the way, she continued toward her destination, trying her best to take slow, even breaths and not work herself up. She didn’t expect any violence at the end of the trip, but physical pain wasn’t the only concern.

  Lyssa slowed her bike and pulled onto a private side road. She was close.

  Pressure built in her chest. Sorcery and lots of it. She’d arrived.

  She wasn’t surprised by the sorcery, given her earlier paranoia. It was expected. This wasn’t her first time there.

  Spells and enchantments covered almost every foot of the sprawling, fenced-in mansion at the end of the road. A prepared Illuminated was a longer-lived Illuminated. Being out of the top hat meant their kind had a lot more potential enemies, and hiding their identities wasn’t always enough to protect them.

  Someone who made a living lethally punishing the enemies of the Shadow and Illuminated societies might have more risk, but it was hard to have power and not be targeted at some point. Even Tricia didn’t go around publicly admitting her true nature.

  Lyssa pulled up to a white gate decorated with ornate scrollwork and stopped. She’d last been to the mansion in the early summer. As far as she knew, the entry procedures hadn’t changed.

  “Living in this big place seems like it’d be annoying,” she said.

  “Isn’t that why your hostess has staff?” Jofi asked.

  “People are the most annoying thing of all.”

  The gate opened, the two sides pulling apart, all but silent. Lyssa drove forward before turning toward a multi-doored garage larger than her Scottsdale home. A door on the side lifted to reveal a dedicated space walled off from the rest of the garage. She sensed more sorcery as she pulled inside and parked.

  Lyssa hopped off the bike and stuck her hands in her jacket pockets. She looked at a wooden door on the other side of the garage and waited. The seconds ticked away, and she whistled.

  A man with perfect hair wearing a black and red uniform opened the door. His face was a mask of blandness, but there was no sorcery coming off him.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Corti,” he said, bowing his head.

  “Hey. I got a message from your boss telling me to stop by.”

  Lyssa forced a weak smile. There weren’t a lot of reasons she’d be summoned to this house and even fewer that might not change her life.

  “Yes,” the servant said. “We were informed of your arrival.” He gestured at the doorway. “If you’ll please follow me.”

  The servants never made any attempt to disarm her. She wanted to believe that spoke to trust, but she doubted she could draw her weapon in the sorcery-fortified location without ten men with shards jumping her.

  Lyssa pulled her hands out of her pockets and followed the servant into and through the home. She didn’t bother paying attention to the circuitous route. Based on the art landmarks, it was different than the last time she’d visited. Navigation was only going to get more annoying before the end of her visit, another aspect of the hostess’s security measures.

  They ended up in a sitting room covered with paintings. Her hostess loved her expensive works. They were all originals, some famous enough that even Lyssa recognized them.

  Prints wouldn’t do in this mansion. They were affronts to the owner’s sorcery essence as much as her ego.

  The servant gestured toward a white settee. “She’ll be with you soon, miss.”

  Lyssa nodded and took a seat, worried about getting dirt or grime on the furniture. That one was one of the reasons she avoided white furniture at home.

  “Thanks.” She smiled at the man.

  Dealing with servants always bothered her. Plenty of Illuminated relied on them. A lot of families even had servants from other trusted families who no longer could produce heirs with sorcerous ability.

  Lyssa’s parents, though coming from the proud Corti line, nonetheless eschewed servants and the trappings of faux aristocracy. She’d inherited their dislike.

  The servant bowed his head before retreating from the room. There was nothing to do but wait. Sitting there in a leather jacket didn’t fit the ambiance of the room, but at least it was her disguised regalia. There were few things on Earth more important and valuable than regalia.

  “You’re always worried this woman is going to attack you,” Jofi said, his voice neutral as always.

  “Why do you think that?” Lyssa whispered. “I’ve never said that. It’s not like I can maintain all my traveling spells without my regalia.”

  “You’re always tense when you’re here, and you make a point of bringing me. It’s the logical conclusion when considering that evidence.”

  “We’re a long way from Scottsdale,” Lyssa replied. “This isn’t a quick stop at the corner Emperor Chicken.”

  “Are you sure that’s the full truth?” Jofi asked.

  Lyssa snorted at his choice of words. They were too perfect, given the falsehood essence of her hostess.

  At least Jofi wasn’t offering any sinister commentary on the beauty of destruction. He’d been a good and normal bound spirit si
nce her run-in with the rogue in Texas. With everything else going on, she didn’t need more stress.

  “The point is I could get jumped along the way,” Lyssa explained. “I’m not worried about Caroline. Of all the people lined up to kill me, I imagine she’s pretty low on the list. Higher than Tricia, but not much.”

  She looked up as the door opened. A silver-haired woman in a pure white layered outfit that was half kimono and half Roman stola stepped through. The woman’s smooth, pale face wasn’t covered, but a white blindfold was wrapped around her eyes. Full-length white gloves covered her arms and hands. It was the Wronged Innocent regalia, bound to the Sorceress owner of the mansion, Caroline Malley.

  Lyssa stood and extended a hand with her palm up. “Hey.”

  “Hello, Lyssa,” Caroline replied. “It’s been too long.”

  “That’s probably a good thing.” Lyssa gave a wry smile. “Most people can only take me in small doses.”

  “Bluntness has a charm all its own.”

  “If you say so.”

  Caroline reached over and took Lyssa’s hand. A pulse of sorcery made Lyssa shiver, but she knew there was no way this meeting would continue without letting the other woman perform her spell. Everyone had their own way of protecting themselves.

  “Did you come to lie to me today?” Caroline asked, her voice soft and strangely soothing.

  Lyssa shook her head. “I came because you contacted me. I didn’t think you would bother unless it was important.”

  “I presume it’s important,” Caroline replied. “Do you mean me harm today?”

  “No.”

  “Do you ever mean me harm?”

  Lyssa shook her head. “You might try to kill me at some point, and then, yeah, I’d mean you harm.”