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So it was that Ali was able to relax and watch the action unfold as the director called for action, the cameras rolled, and the snarling cheetah, guardian of the mysterious lost temple of Unak-Pathon, approached the two nearly naked heroines. It proceeding to paw and lick them threateningly and thoroughly, but yet with the most astonishing self-control…

Serenade

When, after years of writing science fiction, I decided to try my hand at novel-length fantasy, I determined not to write anything that included sweeping pseudo-medieval empires, all-knowing wizards with long white beards (if they possess such deep and unfathomable knowledge, why can’t they keep their hair from turning white?), noble elves, evil dragons, and all the other all-too-familiar-paraphernalia of traditional European-derived fantasy.

So the Spellsinger books include references to drug-taking and much fooling around, fairies too fat to get off the ground (aerobics are in order), flying horses afraid of heights, a Marxist dragon who only wants to organize the masses (except that the masses are terrified of dragons and run like hell at the sight of him), misplaced stage magicians, a unicorn who cannot be lured to his death by a virgin because he’s gay, and much, much more. For better or verse, Tolkien and Rowling it is not.

Of those who have read the series, one of their favorite characters is a five-foot-tall talking otter named Mudge. Mudge is a consumer of mind-altering substances, a drunk, a thief, an irrepressible lech (irrespective of species), a coward at heart, and a luster after money obtained through any means possible. He is also a great deal of fun to be around and a true friend (most of the time) to the nominal hero of the stories, a displaced university law student and would-be rock guitarist named Jon-Tom Meriweather who can make (usually bad) magic with the aid of a unique instrument called a duar.

“Serenade” eventuated as the result of a request by an editor in England who was planning a series of extended graphic novels and wished to include a Spellsinger story among them. Sadly, his financing for the series fell through, but the story remained. Here it is—alas, sans graphics—though Mudge’s antics may be sufficiently graphic for most…

I

The young woman was beautiful, her male companion was shy, and the hat was surreptitious. This feathered chapeau of uncertain parentage bobbed along innocently enough behind the stone wall on which the two young paramours sat whispering sweet nothings to each other. The hat dipped out of sight an instant before the girl’s lips parted in shock. Reacting swiftly to the perceived offense, she whirled and struck the startled young man seated beside her hard enough to knock him backward off the wall. But by that time the intruding hat had hastened beyond sight, sound, and probable indictment.

Occupying the space beneath the hat and having happily strewn amorous chaos in his wake was a five-foot-tall otter, clad (in addition to the aforementioned feathered cap) in short pants, long vest, and a self-satisfied smirk. Ignoring the occasional glances that came his way, the hirsute, bewhiskered, and thoroughly disreputable Mudge continued wending his way through the busy streets of downtown Timswitty. Eventually his sharp eyes caught sight of his friend, companion, and frequent irritant from another world leaning against the wall of a dry-goods shop while soaking up the sun. Dodging a single lizard-drawn wagon festooned with clanging pots and pans for sale, he hailed his companion with a cheery early-morning obscenity.

Arms crossed over his chest, duar slung across his back, scabbard flanking his right leg, Jon-Tom Meriweather opened one eye to regard his much shorter friend. In this world of undersized humans and loquacious animals, the six-foot-tall involuntary visitor stood out in any crowd. Except for his unusual height, however, he was not an especially impressive specimen of his species.

“Back already? Let