News from the Cloak, July '17
Hello all and welcome to the July 2017 Edition of our newsletter. We hope that you will enjoy what we have to offer this month and share with your friends.

Fall Into Fantasy Author Bio's Live
Our full lineup of authors for the Fall Into Fantasy, 2017 edition, is available on our website at Http://
Many authors have works published previously, or forthcoming, so keep checking to see what else they have been getting up to.

In the coming weeks and months leading to our launch, expect to see a few extra emails from us with giveaways and announcements. One of the things we will be looking for are Beta Readers who will be ready to post their reviews of our anthology to Amazon and Goodreads as soon as it is available to do so. Feedback provided before publication may be included on a special page within the book itself upon publication. If you are interested in being a part of this process, you can reply to this email with which format works best for you (Mobi, Epub, PDF). We are working on having a limited number of printed ARCs available as well.

Those who sign up to support us on Patreon will also receive added entries into the giveaways our authors are having during our launch.

Before we get to Andrew's story from Red Rock, lets get our winner for our Amazon gift card out of the way. This month's winner of the $5.00 Amazon gift card is, Brendon WIlliams. Brendon, if you don't see the email from Amazon sometime today, please email to let us know.

"Nights on the Edge" will feature journal entries and short flash fiction accounts from the residents of Red Rock, a lawless, Old West style town on the planet Ignis. Ignis is a mostly desert planet on the fringes of the Milky Way Galaxy. Join us as we meet the residents and get to know what life is like on the Edge.

Nights on the Edge 04

                Working as a watchmen during the nights in Red Rock isn’t exactly easy. It always seems to be that when the sun finally sets, that’s when the real troublemakers crawl out of their holes to make everyone else suffer. They might have been decent folks before but as of right now, they’re just a pain in my ass. It’s been a long time since a night wasn’t spent scraping some poor sap who got in over their head off of the ground, heart beating or not. There’s been about a murder every three or four days by my count but that’s just the ones that get reported. People go missing all the time, whether it’s just folks who are sick of Red Rock or those who had some shady connections, and it breaks my heart to have to tell people they might never see their loved ones again.
                Last night things had been pretty calm so far. Sun had set and most people in town were heading over to the Balehouse to drink and watch the show. We figured with the lack of entertainment around town, most people would be keeping things all civil like. Patrols were dull and boring and we had gotten back to our station on Main Street. The cells were empty, no calls were coming in so we drew straws for sleeping shifts. All was good until we heard the shots just down the road. Alexander busted into the station about a minute later, his eyes burning something fierce.
                “Get the long arms,” He told us as we all shot to our feet.
                Bruce got the keys and unlocked it, handing out two scatter-sluggers and two laser rifles. We made sure we had plenty of ammo on our belts before we rushed down the street towards the Balehouse. Tons of people were surging out of the front doors and even a few through some broken windows. With the four of us shouting them down, we forced our way past the worst of the crowds and into the bar proper.
                “Bruce, tend to the wounded,” Alexander ordered as he gestured with his free hand. “Lucas, you watch the door. Klaus, you head into the back and see if anybody is hiding back there.” He turned around and started to yell at the people hiding on the balcony.
                Course I got the job rooting people out. Then again, didn’t know anything about taking care of injuries and was easily distracted. Alright, maybe it was best. With the scattergun in hand, the door backstage pushed open under my shoulder as I rushed back there. It was a bit dark.
                “Anybody back here? It’s safe to come on out. Night watchmen here.”
                My voice just echoed. Great, guess it was gonna have to be the hard way. The backstage area wasn’t big, just a staircase leading to the stage proper, a bathroom door, an open office door and a storage room I think. Starting with the storage room, finding it was empty besides some crates filled with Balehouse Special. It was tempting to grab one for a swig but figured there were better times to have some cheap drink. Checking the bathroom, there was just some lady wearing a short dress, cowering in the stall.
                “Get out of there! Go on, get!” It took a bit of yelling before she got the message and ran off, crying freely.
                Last was that open office door. Wasn’t expecting much. Boy was I wrong. It was a small room with some ugly green walls, a big ole wooden desk with a leather chair on one side and a folding chair on the other. There was a window to the side of the desk but that had been broken, the curtains swinging in the nightly breeze with a bit of blood on the sharpened glass edges. Luther Mobius sat in the folding chair, his eyes looking blankly to the ceiling, two burn marks on his chest, one right above the heart and the other dead center of mass. His right hand was curled around a lead-thrower. His left hand held a case that was hanging open. He looked surprised.
Frowning and rushing back, I gave Alexander the rundown of what I saw. He nodded to me and told me to go back and keep anybody from messing with the scene. Obliging, running back and standing by the door, it was kind of surreal. Seeing plenty of bodies kind of numbs you to the whole thing. But seeing someone who just about everyone knew, sitting dead with a slack jawed look on their face, cut me deep. There’d be no new Luther Mobius albums now or ever again. It was a real shame. Standing by the door with it closed almost all the way, nobody came by except for Alexander. He stepped in and closed the door, starting to take a look around, mumbling to himself so softly I couldn’t make out the words.
He came back around after about five minutes, patting me on the shoulder.
“Head on back up front,” Alexander said. “I’ll be back up in a minute.”
I wasn’t going to be disobeying orders or nothing so I did what I was told. A few more of the night watchmen had showed up and were milling about the place, taking a gander at all of the damages. Bruce and Lucas were standing side by side like a couple of stone statues, frowns on their faces.
“Heard he was pretty good.” Lucas said as I joined them.
“Probably the best on the planet.” Marcus said. “Never got a chance to hear him.”
The crowds outside of the bar were standing around, watching the building, waiting for any news. While murder was common in Red Rock, nobody this high profile had been killed in a while. Things are gonna get worse before they get better, I can tell you that for certain Sheriffs.

-From the case report of Klaus Schmidt, night watchmen of Red Rock
20th of Mire, local calendar, 2167