Showing results by author "R.J. Josh Stoneburner" in All Categories

In the sweltering pines of Cold Branch, Georgia, the ground keeps its own kind of memory. When Earl “Buck” Talbert, brutal patriarch, feared mechanic, and quiet tyrant, vanishes without a trace, no one in town bothers to ask where he went. The Talbert family insists he ran off. The tomato patch behind his cinderblock house says otherwise.

At a midnight crossroads, Phineas Appomatix bartered more than snake-oil and lies, he bartered his bloodline. His curse runs north with the rails, dogging every step of the Cirque des Ténèbres, where prophecy and spectacle blur until no oath can be broken without a price.

Born with visions pressed against his chest like a second heart, Song walks along a road no other can see. Omens follow him, the scream of the panther from the ridge, the pale Indian Pipe rising in the dark soil, the red-banded Cecropia moth beating its wings against firelight. These are not accidents. These are messages. Song has been chosen to carry them. But every song casts a shadow. That shadow has a name: Cypian, the River Wolf.

A word of caution to decent folk and God-fearing travelers: there walks among us a man not born to honor nor to law, but to spite and cruelty. He is called Douglas Flannery O’Kemp, though most know him simply as the Bastard O’Kemp. He was sired by a planter of ill repute and a servant woman of northern stock, pale as snow and marked by heathen tales. From his first breath he was raised on blows, and from his fifteenth year he carried his father’s scalp to market for coin. Since that day, he has known neither home nor mercy.

Appomatix stands unshaken in his crown, master of the pride whose roar steadies the sawdust ring. At his side, Vaidya weaves fire and shadow, her chants feeding both wonder and fear. And from the forest emerges Lazare, a youth half-feral, half-royal, the living echo of Henrik’s final prophecy, a ringmaster born of blood, music, and myth. Together they forge a power both enthralling and dangerous: the crown, the fire, and the voice. But the line between spectacle and fate grows thin, and what is born in the ring may yet consume them all.

Beneath the canvas of the traveling circus, the line between wonder and dread begins to blur. When strangers gather under the dim glow of lanterns and firelight, they find themselves caught in stories older and darker than the show itself, stories of curses that cling to the land, of prophecies whispered in smoke, and of destinies shaped long before they were born.

We Sent Them All: Smoke Over Snuff Ridge is set in pine blanketed hollows of Louisiana, during World War II. It is an intimate look at quiet heroism, heartbreak and endurance of ordinary families during extraordinary times.