New Release: TERRORS

I’m thrilled to announce that WDM Publishing has released TERRORS as a SPUN YARNS short story!

TERRORS Terrors-6x9
By Deb Logan
Audience: Juvenile | Paranormal | Short Story

Artie Woodward sees the invisible beings that haunt our world. She recognizes their evil but doesn’t know what to do about it, so she’s learned to hide from their notice. Until Jed Kendrick moves to town. Suddenly, Artie has an ally, a friend, someone else who sees the unseen. Only Jed doesn’t hide. Jed fights back!


Buy Now: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Smashwords


FamilyDaze-Cover-2x3And now back to our regularly scheduled July event – introducing you to Dani Erickson, a perfectly normal teenage girl who just happens to be a hereditary demon hunter.

Dani is the answer to her grandfather’s cherished dream – a seventh seventh. Unfortunately, since his dream was of a seventh son of a seventh son, he’s unaware that he accomplished his goal…and Dani’s not about to fess up.

Here’s the opening to Family Daze, Dani Erickson’s third published adventure!

I SEE DEMONS and they’re not pretty. Take the goblin hovering behind Ms. Hockinson’s chair for example: scaly, maroon skin; long filthy claws; sharp, protruding teeth; only vaguely humanoid. The nasty creature stood erect, clothed in a torn, brown tunic. His eyes, black and malevolent, glittered with intelligence, and something else, something truly disturbing … dark amusement.

A shiver of anticipation zinged along my spine. I was born to battle demons. Me. Not one of my six older brothers. I might be the youngest child and only girl, but I was also the one heredity had chosen—and this idiot had wandered onto my turf. He had no clue how dead he was. Yet.

I weighed my options while I sized up my opponent. A glance at the institutional clock clinging to the wall above the chalkboard behind Ms. Hockinson’s desk informed me that the school day would end in five minutes. Classmates squirmed in their desks, surreptitiously gathering their belongings in anticipation of the longed-for final bell.

The demon examined the class, his gaze moving from student to student while one clawed hand encircled my teacher’s throat. He smacked his lips and a long thin tongue darted between his teeth to lick Ms. Hockinson’s ear.

She cleared her throat and flicked a hand toward his face as if warding off a pesky fly.

The clock ticked nearer the hour, and then the unthinkable happened. The second hand stopped, suspending time.

Every person in the room stiffened, frozen in mid-action just like the clock. Everyone, except the demon and me. No way was I going to be stuck in Ms. Hockinson’s social studies class until the end of time! That demon was going down.

The demon grinned, and I launched my attack. Sliding out of my chair, I jumped to the top of my desk, flipped over Jeremy Brody’s head and landed in a crouch before Ms. Hockinson’s desk. On the way to standing I yanked twin stiletto blades from the concealed sheaths sewn artfully into my favorite high-top boots.

“Well, well,” said the demon. “What have we here? A human immune to the ravages of time?” He licked Ms. Hockinson’s ear again and stroked her neck. “You must wait a bit, my tasty morsel. One of your students needs my attention.”

He released my teacher and hurtled across her desk.

I skipped sideways, letting one stiletto trail across his midsection.

The stroke surprised him. He glanced at his bloodied belly, roared, and lunged.

I danced away, using my knives as I’d been trained — like a picador with a bull. Wounding him with small, precise cuts designed to sap his strength and enrage his ego.

We scuffled briefly, but silver blades and sacramental preparation gave me the edge. I leapt and rolled, bounced and twirled, and each time a hand passed his flesh, my blade left a mark.

At last, he staggered toward Cynthia Larrabee, intending to take a hostage to shield his escape. He had waited too long.

I raced past my desk, exchanged stilettos for backpack and withdrew the sword from the concealed scabbard running down its back. With an aerial leap that would’ve done a ninja proud, I landed between the demon and his target, momentum carrying my sword arm through a perfectly timed arc. The demon’s head flew to the opposite side of the room while his body crumpled at my feet.

I leaned over the remains, cleaned my blade on his tunic and, pulling a vial from my pocket, sprinkled holy water over the body. Moving quickly, but carefully, I made my way back to my desk, stowed my stilettos, sheathed the sword, straightened my hair and resumed my seat. I looked up just in time to see the demon fizzle out of existence, along with all traces of his blood. The second hand resumed its circuit around the clock face and the final bell of the day rang.

Ms. Hockinson dabbed her handkerchief across her neck, looked up with a frazzled sigh, and called, “Class dismissed!”

I smiled to myself, stood and shouldered my backpack. Sometimes, being a hereditary demon hunter rocked. Too bad Grandpa would never know that his self-imposed breeding program had worked. He hadn’t attained his goal of a seventh son of a seventh son, but he’d gotten his ultimate desire: me.

CINNAMON CHOU to appear in 2017 Young Explorer’s Adventure Guide

I’m excited to announce that my science fiction adventure story CINNAMON CHOU: Space Station Detective will be published in Dreaming Robot Press’s upcoming 2017 Young Explorer’s Adventure Guide.

Yes. I know. That’s NEXT YEAR, but it’s going to be a fabulous anthology…just take a peek at the 2016 version!

I’m thrilled to be included and can’t wait to read the finished book!


Chronicle Worlds: FeylandI’m taking a break from my regularly scheduled tribute to Dani Erickson to celebrate the release of the print version of Chronicle Worlds: Feyland!

If you’re on Facebook, be sure to stop by this week as we’re having a huge party! I’ll be there on Saturday, 7/16, giving away print copies of Faery Unexpected and Thunderbird, so be sure to join the fun!

And now, the opening to my Feyland story, On Guard

Wallace padded softly across the wooden floor, following his boy. He faltered slightly as they passed a puddle of golden sunlight streaming through a low window onto the flagstone entryway. His old bones creaked and he longed to rest in that sunny patch, allowing the warmth to soak into stiff muscles. But he followed the boy, mindful of his duty.

In his prime, Wallace had been a mighty hunter. The terror of small rodents. Field mice and rabbits still avoided his domain, though he was far from his kitten days. Old age stalked him as once he had stalked prey in the greenbelt behind his humans’ dwelling.

But despite his advancing age and loss of fluid grace, he held to his duty. The female of his pair of bonded humans had given Wallace charge of the boy when he had been nothing more than a squirming bundle wrapped in blankets.

“Watch over him, Wallace,” his female had said. “Guard him, always.”

And Wallace had. No harm had ever befallen the boy while Wallace was on guard. He would not shirk his duty now for the physical relief of sun-warmed stone.

The boy continued downstairs, as Wallace had known he would, to the windowless cave the humans referred to as The Game Room. Wallace glanced toward the ceiling, thinking of that glorious pool of sunlight. Perhaps later, when the boy tired of sitting in that chair. Perhaps there would still be warm sun to bask in then.

He glanced around the room looking for the most comfortable spot to maintain his guard. In the center of the room two tiered rows of dark blue cushioned chairs faced a blank white screen. Off to one side sat a low stool surrounded by sparkly red metallic cylinders. The male of Wallace’s bonded pair liked to sit on that stool and beat on those cylinders. Wallace could appreciate his human’s need to express aggression, but just the thought of that noise made his head ache.

On the other side of the room was the object of the boy’s attention. A massive black leather chair surrounded by boxes full of mechanical whirrs and whistles. The boy sat on the edge of the chair pulling on skin-tight gloves that sparkled in the room’s low light. He touched one of the boxes and high frequency noise assaulted Wallace’s sensitive ears. The boy pulled a sleek black helmet over his head, covering his eyes with a darkened visor and completely occluding his ears.

Wallace closed his eyes in a slow blink. Why would any intelligent creature choose to blind himself in the middle of the day? The boy spent hours in that chair, completely oblivious to the world around him. He saw nothing, heard nothing. Wallace knew. He’d tested the boy, cavorting around the room leaping lightly onto surfaces where he had no right to be, even sitting at the boy’s feet and yowling until the female had raced down the stairs to see what was wrong. All for nothing. The boy had not emerged from his helmeted stupor.

With resignation, Wallace leapt onto the padded chair closest to his boy, circled three times and sat, tail curled around his paws. He watched the boy’s hands twitch on the arms of the big black chair. Sometimes he spoke, nonsense words and phrases that had no bearing on reality. Quest and Feyland and Thank you, kind sir were uttered with some regularity, but Wallace had long since learned to ignore anything his boy said while wearing the helmet and gloves.


SchDaze-Cover-2x3This week I’m continuing my month long introduction to Dani Erickson, a perfectly normal teenage girl who just happens to be a hereditary demon hunter…

The following is the opening to School Daze, Dani’s second published adventure!

I SEE DEMONS, and they’re not pretty, but since I discovered my destiny within hours of starting to see the little monsters, I don’t let them faze me. I’m a demon hunter, and my training was about to begin.

“Bye, Mom,” I called as I raced through the kitchen, snatching a cold protein shake from the refrigerator.

“Halt!” Mom commanded, and I stopped dead, hand on the doorknob. “Where do you think you’re going, and why are you going so fast?”

Busted! Well, I hadn’t really expected to get past Mom that easily. The woman was wise to the ways of teens, seeing as I was the youngest — and only girl — of seven.

“I’m headed over to Allie’s. I’m going to shadow her for her ballet lesson this morning.” I shrugged and tried to look embarrassed.

Evidently guilty passed pretty well for chagrin, because not only did she buy it, she smiled radiantly, wrapped a piece of toast in a paper napkin and handed it to me. “What a great idea! Maybe you’ll decide to join Allie. I’m sure you’d enjoy ballet.”

I held the grimace inside … just barely. Yeah. I’d love ballet. All five-foot-ten of me lumbering around among the petite five-twos of Allie’s crowd.

“Yeah. Well. Don’t get your hopes up. I’m just checking stuff out.”

Mom laughed, kissed my cheek, and waved me off. “Have fun, sweetheart.”

I nodded and launched myself out the door before I confessed all. My mom is not the kind of parent you lie to with impunity.

As soon as I was off our property, my newly acquired weird-o-meter started pinging like mad. I glanced around, mindful of my trainer-to-be’s warning. Warwick James, Wick to his friends, had promised my home was sacrosanct, but once I stepped off my property all bets were off. Fortunately, there were no demons close enough to be a problem.

Nevertheless, I didn’t saunter down the street, I hoofed it to Allie’s house, scarfing toast and chugging protein as I went. I hadn’t totally lied to Mom. I was going to Allie’s; I just had no intention of visiting her ballet class. While she danced her little heart out, I planned to train with Wick. Allie would provide my camouflage.

I dusted toast crumbs off my lime green tee shirt and rang Allie’s doorbell. Her mom answered.

“Why, Dani, how nice to see you,” she said with a smile. “Allie didn’t tell me she was expecting you.”

I grinned. “That’s because she’s not. Is it okay if I come in for a minute?”

“Of course, dear, but you’ll have to make it quick. We’re about to leave for Allie’s ballet class.”

“No problem,” I said, sliding past her into the entry hall. “I’ll just go on up.”

I paced to the stairs and took them two at a time, calling, “Hey, Allie! You decent?” Below me, I heard Mrs. Chavez chuckle as she closed the front door.

Allie opened the bathroom door, toothpaste foaming through her lips. She ducked back to the sink, rinsed, spit, wiped her mouth and rounded on me. “What’s up? What are you doing here?”

I gave her a significant look and murmured, “Remember the fortune teller? Well, we need to talk.” The night before my fourteenth birthday, Allie and I had gone to a carnival where we’d had our fortunes told. That silk-clad woman had provided the starting point for a couple of really weird days. I needed to catch my best friend up on my new reality.

Allie’s eyes widened, but she nodded and we raced to her bedroom, closing the door firmly behind us.

“I’ve only got a minute,” she said.

I nodded. “I know. Ballet. I’m going with you.”

“You’re what?” Allie knew the extent of my undying non-interest in tutus and pink tights.


DemonDaze-Final-2x3During the month of July, I’m going to introduce you to Dani Erickson, a perfectly normal teenage girl who just happens to have inherited some interesting talents…

The following is the opening to Demon Daze, my first published story about Dani!

A shiver of anticipation raced along my spine as Allie and I ducked inside the fortune-teller’s tent. My parents didn’t approve of psychic nonsense, but they’d allowed me to come to the carnival with Allie’s family as a pre-birthday treat. The even bigger treat? Not a single one of my older brothers was tailing me. If the Erickson boys were at the carnival, they were enjoying their own night out, not watching over their baby sister.

Turning fourteen had its advantages.

The inside of the tent lived up to all my expectations. A thick Turkish rug covered the brittle, brown August grass and swags of colorful silk festooned the sidewalls and ceiling, ropes of twinkling LED lights camouflaged within the folds. A small table draped in blood-red velvet sat in the center of the small enclosure. A single intricately carved high-backed chair occupied the far side, while two folding chairs waited for us.

Allie glanced at me as if seeking reassurance. The corners of her lips curved in a timid smile and her eyes widened. “Are you sure we want to do this?”

I grabbed her hand and pulled her to the folding chairs. “This was your idea, remember? We’re here. We’re not backing out.” I plopped onto a chair and waited. Allie lit on the very edge of hers, muscles tensed for flight.

A figure disengaged from the draping silk and approached the carved chair.

“I am Madame Simone. Welcome to my den of enlightenment. This place is hallowed, serving as a threshold to the great beyond.”

The olive-skinned woman was swathed from head to toe in a rainbow of silk. Small golden discs dangled from her headdress, gracing her forehead and calling attention to dark, liquid eyes. She studied my best friend for a moment and then turned her attention to me.

“You have come at an auspicious moment,” she said, and lowered herself gracefully into the high-backed chair. Leaning forward, she placed long-fingered hands upon the velvet tablecloth. “Tell me what you seek.”

Allie uttered a nervous squeak and huddled back in her chair, moving as far from the fortune-teller as possible without jumping and running.

I glanced at Allie and then faced the psychic. “Aren’t you supposed to tell us what we need to know?” I don’t like people intimidating my friends.

“What you need to know,” the woman murmured, holding my gaze and refusing to allow my escape. “Are you sure you’re ready for that? Wouldn’t you rather I told you silly tidbits about boys and kisses and who to dance with at the prom?”

I straightened my shoulders, but didn’t look away. Her sarcastic tone bugged me. Allie and I might be young, but we were paying for this woman’s time.

“Look, just do your thing, okay? We paid for a reading, so read.”

Madame Simone’s smile could’ve frozen Boulder Reservoir. “As you wish.” She inclined her head, breaking our eye-lock, and turned to Allie, “Your hand, my dear.”

Allie placed her right hand in Madame Simone’s left and shuddered slightly when the woman traced the lines in Allie’s palm with a perfectly manicured nail.

“I see a long life if you sever your relationship with dangerous friends,” the psychic said, spearing me with a pointed glance. “You will dance on the stage to the acclaim of millions. Beware the company of demons.”

Allie snatched her hand back the moment Madame Simone released it and cradled it to her chest.

The fortune-teller cocked an eyebrow at me and held out her hand.


Chronicle Worlds_Feyland eBook Cover-finalI’m a huge fan of Anthea Sharp’s Feyland novels, and was thrilled when Samuel Peralta’s Chronicle Worlds anthology series gave me the opportunity to play in her world! Having read every single Feyland story, I’m very familiar with the world’s delights … and its dangers.

“On Guard” was inspired by a family vacation where my twelve-year-old grandson was so entranced by a video game that he lost track of time and had to be coaxed into family activities. I could easily imagine my grandson playing Feyland, but “On Guard” was born when I decided to make his pet Norwegian Forest cat the hero of the tale.

Here’s a short blurb about the story:

Wallace, a fierce Norwegian Forest cat, has guarded the boy since he was an infant. Despite advancing age, Wallace isn’t about to shirk his duty now that the boy is old enough to play a dangerous game. Wallace doesn’t understand his boy’s fascination with Feyland, but he knows a threat when he sees one.

Chronicle Worlds: Feyland is available for only 99 cents for a limited time from Amazon! Grab your copy today😀