Seventy-sixth Issue! Hare’s Gambit
April has arrived — a month of trickery, transformation, and the whispers of fate on the wind. As we step deeper into 2025, we’re delighted to present the seventy-sixth edition of the Flame Tree Fiction Newsletter, where we journey into the realms of myth and strategy. This month, our theme is Hare’s Gambit — a dance of wit and deception, where cunning hares outmaneuver fate, gambits unfold in moonlit glades, and fortune favors the bold. Thank you to everyone who submitted their work— your tales bewitched and surprised us in the most delightful ways! Here’s to a month of clever tricksters, high-stakes bargains, and the eternal game between luck and skill.
Congratulations to both winners of the April theme: Liam Hogan and Sarah Musnicky!
Rufus by Liam Hogan – A young apprentice learns that power, cunning, and alliances are not always what they seem…
The Sister's Choice by Sarah Musnicky – As the world shifts and old protections fade, Enid races against time to save her brother…
This month's newsletter features:
- FLAME TREE PRESS: New titles coming this month!
- NEW Myths, Gods & Immortals AND Beyond & Within titles
- New Flame Tree Publishing goodies!
- Original Fantasy Flash Fiction #1: Rufus by Liam Hogan
- Original Fantasy Flash Fiction #2: The Sister's Choice by Sarah Musnicky
- EXCLUSIVE Newsletter Subscribers Special Promotion
- Next Month’s Flash Fiction Theme
FLAME TREE PRESS | April Title
We have a new Flame Tree Press title coming out in hardback, paperback and ebook.
The Hatter’s Daughter by W.A. Simpson
There is more to the Vine than mortals and immortals know. It reaches its branches and tendrils into realms beyond the Riven Isles. On the night Faith was born, her mother perished, but not before sending Faith to safety, in Underneath. Discovered by The Mad Hatter, he takes Faith home to raise as his own. When the Rot invades, Faith determines to fight. She won’t do it alone. Her childhood friend, Prince Rowan accompanies her. Faith must return to her birthplace to find a Legendary Heroine. But Overland is dangerous, and the minions of the Rot are in pursuit. If she doesn’t succeed, the minions of the Rot will destroy everything they know.
OUT 15th APRIL!
Did you get the memo that we sell ballpoint pens now?
Elevate your writing with the Flame Tree Ballpoint Pen — where practicality meets artistry. Designed to complement our stunning notebooks, these beautifully crafted pens feature beloved artworks wrapped around a solid, comfortable barrel, accented with elegant metallic trim. The smooth black ink flows effortlessly, while the retractable nib ensures you’re always ready to jot down your thoughts.
Housed in an eco-friendly box, they make the perfect gift for writers, note-takers, and creatives alike. Stylish, reliable, and endlessly refillable — this is more than just a pen; it’s an inspiration in your hand.
Find yours today here.
Discover the mythology of humankind through its heroes, characters, gods and immortal figures. Myths, Gods & Immortals brings together the new and the ancient, familiar stories with a fresh and imaginative twist.
Achilles
With Flame Tree’s signature cover treatment, this stunning book explores Achilles, the legendary yet flawed hero of the Trojan War. Blending classic tales with fresh interpretations, it delves into his battles, relationships, and the myth of his fateful heel, offering new perspectives on his enduring story.
For more info, click here.
Morgana Le Fay
Morgana, the enigmatic figure of Arthurian legend, has been depicted as Arthur’s half-sister, Lancelot’s jilted lover, and Merlin’s rival. Rooted in Celtic mythology, she is both witch and healer, inspiring countless interpretations. This new Flame Tree edition, featuring stories from open submissions and an in-depth introduction, explores her rich and shifting legacy.
For more info, click here.
OUT NOW!
The Flame Tree Beyond & Within collections showcase myth and imagination through diverse, inclusive voices. Curated by anthologists, they feature modern and contemporary writers, sometimes focusing on a single author. The series highlights folkloric, supernatural, sci-fi, mysterious, and speculative fiction.
Black Friday
Cheryl S. Ntumy is a Ghanaian speculative fiction writer whose work has appeared in FIYAH Literary Magazine, Apex Magazine, and World Literature Today. A nominee for the Nommo Award, Commonwealth Writers Short Story Prize, and Miles Morland Foundation Scholarship, she is part of the Sauúti Collective and Petlo Literary Arts. Her collection features dark mysteries, cozy magical realism, and cautionary tales, including nine new stories like Dream State, Clickbait, and The Feeding Grounds, alongside favorites such as The Storymage and The Way of Baa’gh (a Sauútiverse story).
For more info, click here.
The Open Heart
Catherine Wells (1872–1927), wife of H.G. Wells, authored short stories, poems, and the unfinished novella The Open Heart. This collection, published for the first time, includes The Open Heart alongside her other works from The Book of Catherine Wells (1928). The Open Heart explores a woman’s isolation on a deserted island, while her other stories address themes of forbidden love, oppressive marriages, and female despair, showcasing her “brooding tenderness” and a sense of fatalism.
For more info, click here.
Original Fantasy Story #1
Rufus
Liam Hogan
My Mistress, Leonara, had a hare as her familiar.
I didn’t get to compare notes often, but other witches who visited had black cats, ravens, or even on one occasion, a black spider.
Rufus was the colour you’d expect a hare to be, ruffled, reddish brown. Rufous, Leonara said, explaining the familiar’s moniker. He had another name, but only my Mistress knew that. He was large, though not excessively so, and had a habit of watching you more keenly than was entirely comfortable.
“One wonders if your choice of apprentice is sounder than that of your familiar?” today’s guest observed, stroking the sleek head of her black dog.
I reddened and would have spilt the tea I was pouring if I’d not had my wits about me. Which would have proven the point, as I was sure it was meant to. The cup rattled in its saucer as I passed it over.
“They’re both more than adequate, Amoretta,” Leonara replied.
Her visitor sniffed. “For this rural backwater, perhaps. Probably the best you could manage?”
Leonara half-smiled.
“Sometimes, dear Leonora--” Amoretta’s voice had gained an exasperated edge. “--I think you should have chosen something closer to your namesake.”
“Are you still talking about Esme, or..?”
“You know perfectly well what I mean!”
This was an old argument, then.
“Such a waste, of first choice.”
That surprised me. The pecking order for familiars was based on merit, not bloodline. I knew my Mistress was more than adequate, a stern but fair teacher, but not that she could have had any position she’d fancied. Which obviously needled her finely-dressed visitor, as well as the choice she had made.
“I daresay Khan wouldn’t find our rural backwater as exciting as the capital.”
Amoretta froze, before continuing to stir her tea, but there was a chill that hadn’t been there moments earlier.
“Though with the wilds on our doorstep, I wonder how such a pretty dog would fare, in those dark woods?”
There was a warning growl from the sitting dog, a flash of yellow teeth. “Better than your hare, I’d have thought.”
“Would you?”
The stiffening again. I shrank into the background. For all the trappings of afternoon tea, this was far from friendly. I couldn’t understand the undercurrents, but I certainly picked up on them.
“A hare, any hare, will run for those woods when threatened. Safer than the open fields.”
“So. Finally a statement we can test. I’ll wager your Rufus can’t make it to the safety of the woods, before Khan catches him.”
“And what would you have my stake?”
A pair of eyes that flashed purple turned, unexpectedly, my way. “Your apprentice, perhaps?”
“I didn’t think you thought much of her?”
“I don’t. But you do.”
“Hmm. Rufus is keen; he hasn’t had his morning exercise. Let me speak to the girl. See what she thinks the wager is worth.”
Amoretta scoffed and sat sipping as my Mistress came to where I stood. I felt the prickle that meant our conversation was shielded.
“You’re not happy being the prize?”
“No, Mistress,” I muttered.
“Not, obviously, my choice. Though I have no fear that Rufus will lose, it wouldn’t be the worst outcome, for you.”
“For... me?”
“It is usual, Esme, for an apprentice to spend time under more than one witch. Amoretta is well placed to train you in things I cannot. So, whatever the outcome, you will not be the loser, I promise.”
I nodded, though I wasn’t convinced. The privacy bubble popped, and Leonara returned to her guest.
“She’ll take your coat.”
“My... coat?” Amoretta looked as shocked as though she’d been slapped.
“She doesn’t think much of it, but you do. As for me... Whoever wins, when Esme graduates, you’ll sponsor her and her chosen familiar. That’ll save me a pretty bundle.”
Amoretta narrowed her eyes but nodded consent.
Rufus padded over to Leonara’s side. “As soon as the door opens, the race begins.”
Daylight streamed in, and there was a blur as Rufus sped off, a sharp clatter as Khan set off in pursuit, impatiently squeezing through the narrow opening. The spilt teacup hovered just above the floor, so I plucked it from the air and set it on the tray.
By the time I made the doorway, the race was half done. I squinted into the haze, heart thudding. Too close to call! Each time Khan gained on the hare, Rufus jinked in a different direction, or dove through a hedge. But I’ve seen him run, at top speed, and this wasn’t that.
Rufus must have wanted a close race, so the black dog didn’t give in. Close enough to follow Rufus into the woods... I gulped, and Amoretta darted a victorious glance my way, as Rufus vanished into the trees, Khan hard on his long heels.
Then an explosion of leaf mould, as the big dog slewed to a halt and gave a fierce, questing bark.
Something howled back.
Even from this distance, I could see the instant change in Khan’s posture. From forward-pointing eager, to head-down crouch, legs shuddering.
Another howl and Khan bolted the way he had come, no thrill of the chase now, just fear.
He didn’t stop until, panting and frothing at the mouth, he took shelter behind his stone-faced Mistress, stifling a whimper.
Amoretta stood, fists clenched, staring at the line of trees where the woods began.
“Aren’t you going to call Rufus back?” she demanded.
Leonara chuckled. “We won’t see him for a couple of hours.”
Which was about right. By then Leonara had long departed, Khan tight at her side, leaving her coat behind.
“When you go to the capital,” Leonara said, “you’ll take the coat with you. And forget all about it.”
I had other concerns. “Are the woods really that dangerous?” I asked.
“They can be, Esme,” Leonara agreed. “But remember: the most dangerous thing in the woods, is us.”
Liam Hogan is an award-winning speculative short story writer, with stories in Best of British Science Fiction and in Best of British Fantasy (NewCon Press). He volunteers at the creative writing charities Ministry of Stories, and Spark Young Writers. Sci-Fi collection: A Short History of the Future (Northodox Press). Fantasy: Happy Ending Not Guaranteed (Arachne Press). More details at http://happyendingnotguaranteed.blogspot.co.uk
Original Fantasy Story #2
The Sister’s Choice
Sarah Musnicky
Frantic, unearthly screams ring throughout the forest, heralding the beginning of the end for one of Enid's own. Her ears perk up. To the untrained ear, it could be assumed the screams belong to some demon or banshee. She knows these screams. They bury into her bones and snatch at her frantically beating heart.
Memories surge of days spent in the undergrowth, of laughter and joy but also fear and pain. He was so afraid on the day of his first transformation. Brother. She needs to find him.
Enid is silent as she emerges from the bushes. Her limbs are long and cumbersome while she maneuvers through familiar terrain. She knows this forest inside and out. It is her domain and his, and something or someone has come to threaten that.
The soul-piercing cries continue. As long as he screams, he lives. It is a bittersweet truth that settles uncomfortably, but it is truth nonetheless. It is better than the lies the elders tell to placate the anxieties of the young.
There is plenty to be anxious about. The world was changing, and not for the better. Through her escapades in human form, Enid has learned much. Her brother, not so much. This becomes clear once she finds him caught in a trap. Whoever had placed it did little to conceal it. All it takes is one curious and ignorant creature like her brother to ensure its success.
The hare kicks and thrashes around. A crude tether ensnares its foot, but it's enough to hold her brother in place. Sweat beads on his brown fur. His teeth gnash and chatter. He's still far too young and weak to break free, and Enid knows there's little time to lose. His screams could wake the dead, and the desperate human who set the trap is likely nearby.
"Hold still and shush, dear one."
Her fingers work on the rope, picking and pulling at its fraying edges. With enough effort, she can get him free. Every nerve tingles with adrenalin. Time is of the essence, and the threat of an unseen predator keeps her fingers moving.
With the failure of the harvest and the turn away from the old gods, the humans were becoming bolder. Enid understood. Hunger clouded their minds. But they were entering a new world, where their lives were now forfeit. Hares were no longer sacred. Food was food. But she would not let her brother get eaten today.
It's not long before she feels slack. The rope gives way. With one final kick, her brother is free. They stare at each other, his eyes round and full of unspoken gratitude and flurried thoughts. If they succeeded in returning home, they would discuss this incident later.
Time is not on their side. A sudden cracking of a branch splits the air. Heartbeats leap in unison. Their heads whip in the sound's direction. Enid doesn't need to say anything.
They both run. Her human legs and his animal legs. She has the longer stride, but he has the advantage of camouflage and speed. She knew her brother would get to the burrow first and warn the others. That's the least he can do for all the trouble he's gotten into today.
A rapid fire of cursing sounds behind them. The human had been nearby after all. It's not long before the sound of crushing leaves and the scent of musk and something unsavory colors the air around them. With two targets, the man has too much to hold his focus and too much rage to make a decision. She will make it easier for him to choose.
Enid splits away, going deeper still into the forest. It is a risk, but she can't lead the monster to the others. Her boots leave obvious tracks, taunting the man to follow, and he will—they always do. They can't resist the call of the hunt—not when hunger grips their bellies to go faster.
Time passes neither slowly nor quickly—that is the blessing and curse of adrenaline—her pulse pounds in her ears. Lungs gasping for air, Enid stumbles into a tree. The bark scrapes her skin, but she doesn't stop. A familiar pulling of magic, warm and closing, burns her belly. She can't hold on. She has to let go.
Enid looks back and spots the human several yards away. She thought she had covered more ground, but it didn't matter anymore.
Their eyes lock. His gaze is a mixture of fury, greed, and something untouchable. Hers is aching and exhausted. Hunter and prey were forever trapped in this cyclic dance, but now the dance was ending.
She spasms with the change. Her body contracts and twists as the magic takes hold. Muscles ripple as her flesh begins to tear at the seams. The skinsuit that encased her collapsed on the forest floor, and Enid emerged reborn in her purest form, a ball of fur and ears sticking straight up. A woman no more.
Disgust spews behind her, followed by the putrid stench of vomit. The unknown transforms this predator into something else—not prey, but something in between. His confusion and shock are a gift.
It's her final chance.
With her powerful hindquarters, Enid takes to the forest again, to return to her family with a new story and warning for her kinfolk. Their magic may keep them safe for now, but the world is changing. And when mankind no longer feared the unknown, the old gods and those in between would not be spared.
Sarah Musnicky is a recent transplant to Toronto from Los Angeles. She enjoys horror and dark fantasy, preferring to make friends with monsters rather than humans in fiction. Her short stories and flash fiction have appeared in Cemetery Gates Society, Ghost Orchids Press, Third Estate Books, and Strange Wilds Press, with more work to come soon. You can find her film and TV criticism listed on Rotten Tomatoes, and the rest of her non-fiction writing work on https://authory.com/sarahMusnicky.
Next Month’s Newsletter Horror Theme:
Our next edition of the newsletter will be HORROR themed, and we are looking for stories around the theme of:
Demonic Rapture
Please note that all stories submitted should be within the HORROR genre.
Terms and conditions for the submissions here: https://flametr.com/submissions.
Please send your 1,000-word story to the Newsletter Editor:
Leah Ratcliffe
Flash2024@flametreepublishing.com
(valid for 2025 submissions)
The deadline is 20th April 2025.
We look forward to reading your submissions. Happy writing!
Sign up for our fiction newsletter 