About KL Mabbs


Posts by KL Mabbs:

An Awesome God’less Saga Review

A totally riveting opening, sets the scene for this fast-paced, action-packed dystopian sci-fi thriller.  In her first hour of being enrolled at a Corporation school, Book is pitted in a level 3 fight with a fellow student.  Within minutes she breaks his leg and smashes in his nose.  In spite of this brutal introduction, the two of them become friends. BUT, her father’s enemies surround her, and want her dead.  She has no idea why.

Book is a social misfit who has been brought up and trained to be a fighting machine by her reclusive father who manages to resist the “God’less” disease he is afflicted with.

In this dystopian society, the Roman Catholic Church and the Corporations are seemingly at odds. The God’less are simply exterminated.  Book’s father has taught her that the way out, is space.  This means indenturing one’s self to a Corporation and taking the serum that is supposed to prevent the God’less disease.  But the serum can cause genetic mutations and sometimes it gives the user the disease.

I simply LOVED this book.  I am a fan of Sci-Fi, but seldom have I seen it written so incredibly well.  The author, KL Mabbs has created a totally believable society with edgy, believable characters that you either love or loath.

A word of warning.  Start reading this book early in the day. You will NOT want to put it down until you have come to the very satisfying ending!

If I could give it more than FIVE STARS I would.  AND, based on my sleepless night, I will definitely be getting the authors other books!

Mira Grant

I’ve been reading Mira Grant. What I didn’t know was that she was also Seanan McGuire, of the October Daye series. It’s a brilliant depiction of the old world myths and legends of the Fae.

Mira Grant writes the Newsflesh trilogy. It’s a Zombie world with a twist. A man made disease caused by a combination of two genetic alterations, a cure for the common cold and a cure for cancer. It’s told from the view of two bloggers who have a reputation for telling the truth. The mythos of the story has Newsies, hard fact editorials. Irwins, poke them with a stick adventuring types, and Fictionals. Story tellers, and poets. The characters have depth, the story has over the top original action. The world is hiding from the Zombies and the disease. Security is high, fear is rampant and the economy is prospering from both. Even the President is in on the story. I read the three books in a matter of two weeks. Because she’s Mira Grant, who’s Seanan McGuire, and she rocks as an author. Read her in either incarnation. You won’t be disappointed.

Horrors of History

An Anthology, by Fey Publishing.

This features authors from around the world. Different voices, and styles.

I’m one of them. The Birthing is my take on an origin story for vampires.



A spotlight on Wolf, in Britain, no less.  http://indiebrits.blogspot.co.uk/


I’ve signed with a small independent press, Fey publishing.

They rock. They’re supportive and respectful. I’m  happy with the decision. And this means that my dark fantasy Spellsword has a home, with the potential of the two other books in the trilogy becoming just as real and out in the world.

Also, I have friends that think I should write erotica, because I do it so damn well, their words, not mine. But I’m going to try that, though I’ll use a pen name.  Short stories that build into a series and eventually become a book or more. They won’t be expensive, and just an afternoon read, a few hours at most.


Progress on the God’less Saga is going well. I’ve reached the resolution and have about ten to fifteen thousand words left to write. I’m really happy with the story and the way it’s turned out. I have an editor set up to go through it when I’m finished. I found a cover that rocks and the photographer has agreed to a price so that I can use it.

I got my first two star review on Wolf, out of six four and five star reviews. That bummed me out but it was an honest review, one person’s opinion, so I thanked them. What else can one do? It’s part of the writing gig.

I’ve gotten a short story into a horror anthology, due out for October. I’ve given two stories to a charity anthology, no idea if they’ve been accepted but I have high hopes. They are good stories.

And last but not least, I have two publishers interested in the same story, both asked for the full manuscript. Decisions pending. But this is cool.

It’s about story. Go hug someone today.

Smile at the world.

Excerpt from Wolf:

Hands poked at her body. Her tail was lifted in the air and then dropped. The same thing done with a paw. Then the hands picked her up and carried her. She could smell the tooth-spitters they carried. The burnt stone smell mingled with the scent of men, musky, like the sweat of a badger. The crisp smell of urine flowed from one of the men.

She knew that man. He was the one she had warned away from Michael and the not-cub. He hadn’t put his hands on her. She knew that too. From the smell of him, he was two metres in front of her. The crunch of the snow under his boots had a nervous quality to it, as if the sound itself shivered.

After a time, the motion of the men stopped and she felt herself placed on a cold surface.



“Get in the chopper, Harris.”

Sergeant Thomas Jenkins didn’t understand. His men weren’t cowards. But four of them had died in less than three minutes. That didn’t seem possible. Nothing he had fought had ever been that fast, nor that deadly, not unless it was missile based. True, two of the deaths had been from a rifle. The poor sod using it had been taken out by a wolf bigger than the one on the chopper floor. But the thing that had attacked Michael Scott was dead. Without a brainpan, it was just an oddity for the taxidermist. Gerund had mentioned a woman or a wolf that travelled with Michael Scott. A wolf was in the chopper. Jenkins didn’t know anything about a second animal. Or what Harris was ranting about . . . the man was tech support, not recon. Why did the company let people cross train without the skills? Jenkins just shook his head.

The Holy Grail – a contract

For a writer, a contract is the Holy Grail. I’ve turned down two in the last few weeks. Why? They weren’t right. The first was an Indie publisher, who, when I asked them questions about their company, only replied by changing their contract, all other queries about them, the company and what they meant to me, as a writer, were not responded to. So I refused their contract.

The second was a large christian publishing company in the states. They wanted to change my content so it was appropriate to their ‘mission’, no profanity and other content changes that weren’t specified. I don’t write nice, at the best of times. I write dark, often showing the good man can attain, but it’s still dark. They also wanted four grand out of me, refundable once they had sold the 1000 book. This is not usually how publishers work.

Nothing like being excited and disappointed at the same time.

I’m still submitting, and writing, and I will continue to look for a publisher that respects me as a writer.

It was a ten-dog day today, meaning lots of love from the furry, and their owners.

excerpt from Wolf

“Easy girl. Shhhh,” Michael said. Even though gun trained, the horse was skittish.

Michael felt a pang of guilt low in his belly. He was supposed to protect these animals; they weren’t friends, but he understood them, cared for them in ways that went beyond any kind of pet-human relationship. His horses were an extension of the survival they met together, here in the Rockies. They needed each other. Depended on the other for so much more than just companionship.

He took a kit bag from the wall, some bandages and ointments, and then walked slowly forwards, talking all the way. It wasn’t the words that were important, it was the tone of voice he used. Soothing calm that flowed from him to his riding horse. It took a long time for peace to settle into place in the confines of the cave. At least it felt that way. When he opened the stall gate, his horse shied away.

“Easy. It’s okay.”

Finally, Chaka let him touch her throat, and run a hand over her hide to find the damage the wolf had left. Besides the bite on the neck, there were claw marks high up on both flanks and shoulders. The horse had bucked the wolf off. Michael had been far enough into the cave to put the first shot into the wolf’s side when it landed. And then Faelon had attacked.

Michael took a med dispenser from the kit and filled it with painkillers from a Sealpak. The soft hiss of air almost startled the animal again, but the lessening of pain it had been feeling was soothing. Michael moved the local anesthesia to the area around the other wounds. Chaka barely noticed the hiss. Next, he took an antiseptic and cloth and cleaned the wounds. He took his time, again, glad he could do something other than be anxious. He didn’t bother to look behind, knowing Chaka was a better alarm than any other right now. But he wanted to look, to see Faelon standing there, alive.

A Request for Reviews.

If you’ve read Wolf, please take the time to write a review, I’d appreciate it.
Thank you.

Another excerpt from Wolf:
The moonlight shimmered over the landscape like silver escaping a forge. Dawn would turn the snow into molten gold soon.
It was cold. Freezing without the shirt he had packed into Faelon’s wounds. Michael carried her to the cabin. For all the weight of her body, she felt too light. Her head lolled at an angle that seemed disjointed, as if her spine had been severed. Or, as if she had no life left in her wolfen body.
But her spine was intact, and her heart beat in her chest, though it seemed weak to him. He thought that was just because of the way his hands shook as he had tried to sense her pulse and feel her heartbeat, the task made all the more difficult for the thick fur that covered her body. It was like trying to feel an elevator’s vibration in an earthquake.
He brushed the door open with his shoulder. In his haste to save the horses he had left it open. A few quick steps, and he laid Faelon gently on the bed.
“PAC. Proximity Mode. Medical.” Michael pulled the Nano-tech that was less a machine and more a personal bodyguard from his desk, from where it had been teaching Faelon. “Monitor Faelon. Administer any drugs needed.” He slipped the tech around her foreleg. It shrank into place. He knew the touch would also complete the Home Advantage command he had introduced earlier.
PAC fed Nano-filaments into her body. “Monitoring. Medical Mode. Pulse weakened, heartbeat steady. Her cell structure is showing the same signs as her saliva but at a greatly increased rate. Recommend you remove the wadding from her wounds before her flesh grows into place around it.”
His shirt?
Michael pulled at the cloth gently. His face contorted as the material slowly lifted up, taking tissue and hair with it. A low whine echoed from Faelon’s throat.

Hug someone today.