Showing results by author "Kirk Mason" in All Categories

One minute I’m in a tree, pointing my camera at a tiger, the next I’m on my back in a medieval fantasy world, while a skittish blonde hovers over me, hoping I’m not dead. I’ve never felt more alive. Because although the dutiful smith’s assistant warns me away from the town’s sinful witch, I still have to go. The witch has the only bestiary book in town, and that’s my one hope of a comfortable life—I don’t feel like donning knight's armor. Turns out, the bestiary is terrible—it's just primitive drawings, annotated by the tall tales of drunken adventurers. I know an opportunity when I see one.

Our retro-tech towns might seem idyllic, yet go beyond the arcades and coffee shops and you'll reach the danger zones roamed by bionic bots. Me? I ran a video store with my cute friend Emiko. She's always been a little different, so I had to look out for her—we usually just watched movies and played games together. One day, a suspicious pink-haired chick burst into the store, warning me not to watch a tape labeled Property of Steelheart—Do Not Watch! So obviously, I did, and a terrifying ghost crawled out of the screen.

What's the best group to form a defense force? If you said a bloodthirsty bunnygirl, a timid drowblin (half drow-half goblin), and a human bloke named Owen, he'd ask you if you understood the question. But that's what Peach Valley's got. Luckily for him, one skeleton a day is so easy to deal with that it leaves ample time to sample the delights of the village. Like swimming in the lake with the crazy bunny who makes him laugh, or shopping trips with the shy drowblin he's getting out of her shell.

The bionic bots that roamed the danger zones cowered before my biomancy, yet the real threat was a little more human. See, the beautiful poltergeist haunting my mind created a real-life, legally distinct mimic monster, and now it wasn’t just the fabric of reality I had to contend with—it was lawsuits from its parent company, run by a smoking-hot boss lady. Between that, a cute secret agent on the run (partly my fault), and the boss of Steelheart gunning for my shop (mostly my fault), I really had my hands full.

Some men get Sundays off to catch up with the DIY. I spend mine fighting the neighborhood monsters. After a peaceful vacation relaxing on the beach with my gorgeous demon babes, I return home to be confronted by some crazy new neighbors—and I don’t mean gossipers or HOA fanatics. My house is full of beautiful demi-humans, so a few more monsters around couldn’t hurt, right? Well, when a mysterious ailment begins sweeping through the neighborhood, I begin to doubt that.

Legions of regular folk are angry at us for having what they cannot. It's up to me to lead the magi and sort out this mess, but I'm not alone. Sophia's position as headmaster of the academy will come in handy, and Misty...well, she's still a hot goth babe. And then maybe we can get back to the shop. Battlebabe Blair and ginger Frenchie Charlotte still haven't seen it.

Superpowers, robots, and a saucy ghost GF—Just another day in the apocalypse. Starting over should be simple—grab some supplies, pitch a tent, and figure out where to get running water. But when you’re an all-powerful biomancer traveling with a thunder goddess who can’t let go of her training, a pink rat-thing that’s too dumb to be evil, and an AI robot lady who's almost definitely evil, things get complicated fast.

A last expedition. There’s just one problem. Coming with me is a wild, crazy jester, and a dark, brooding witch. They’re as different as different could be, but I’ve got to help them get along—and let’s be real, it's mostly Velvet who needs helping. Not just for her sake, but for the rest of my girls too. Who knew a backflipping jester could be such a nuisance at the dinner table? And maybe, just maybe, I can get some cool photos of centaurs and ogres along the way. Let’s hope I escape with my head still intact... A certain queen is partial to it.

One moment I'm taking pictures of a fantastic sky beast, aided by a sassy witch, a pretty blonde, and a cute green goblin. The next we’re in bed for the night—and I can't get a lick of covers! This house is too small. It wasn’t meant for this many people and a bestiary business. Problem is, not a lot of folk want a goblin and a witch in their neighborhood. It’s hard to blame them. We can be loud.