Cal Black

@thatcalamity.bsky.social

1212 Followers 328 Following

Author: Legends & Legacies, Shattered Spirits: The Fall of Ishcairn. She/Her, cryptid of the wilds 🍁 https://superstitionpub.com

a dark tortoiseshell cat sits at a desk with a mic in front of her and a cup of coffee. She's looking back over her shoulder at the camera. She is very cute.
A hand drawn bunny sits next to a book and flowers. The text says: Next Door Ottawa & Stephanie Anne Author present: Unbound: Indie Lit Market. Sunday, March 29 11am to 5pm, 955A Gladstone Ave, Ottawa. Join us to celebrate the art of independent storytelling. Meet Local Authors! Experience Live Readings! Contests and more!
Mirriam-Webster's "your 2026 word" and below in black text is "Out of pocket"
A small tortie cat is held in one of my arms, smooshing her face into mine. She stayed there for 20 minutes until my arm got tired.
Banner for the Narratess Indie Book Sale. A chonky dragon reads a book at the bottom, a pile of skulls with a candle and ghost sit on the left of the text, and a space ship flies by a planet on the right of the text. surrounding the banner are covers of various books taking part in the sale.
a book cover titled "no land for heroes" with an etching of a steam locomotive and flanked by an orange dragon and axe.
a cute drawing of a hamster with giant eyes is wearing a Williams F1 team racing hat and is 'carrying' (it's placed next to it) a flag that says 'Williams racing'. Above the critter, there's text that says "go weeyums!"
The thatched roof needed replacing, but Velta had yet to find the strength to uproot the witch’s vetch that had grown through the old straw, holding it together with corkscrew vines and cheerful purple flowers
“Hut-Hut, is it okay if I talk this through?” she asked, looking over to the hearthfire. It had settled down to coals, which meant the hut was either sleeping, or it was ignoring her. “I’ll take that as a yes,” the witch said, slipping off her chair to lie on the floorboards, holding her paper up to read.
It was something old and wild, contained by a web of wizardry that forced it into a crude compulsion shape. But it was the core that had Velta intrigued. She knew better than to pluck at a wizard’s spell. They were often overly complicated and had hidden traps laid for the unwary.
There was a single path through the mess with a travelling trunk at the end, illuminated by an impressive colony of gloom caps growing from its base that cast the attic in a blue glow. It was all very mystical, and Velta hovered at the top of the ladder, caught off guard by just how many things there were to look at. Impatiently, the trunk popped open, sending another plume of dust up into the air.
“Ground Gloamcap to light the spirit’s way,” Velta muttered as her mind began to jump from ingredient to ingredient, stringing them along into her spell. “Hearthbloom petals to call the spirit home."
four book covers placed on a background that looks like a desk, complete with a mug of coffee. From left to right: 'Shattered Spirits' has a mysterious and gloomy vibe, showing a lighthouse in the middle of a storm, with dark tentacles behind it. 'Strange and Sundry Magics' is a whimsical book with a ghost cat and a desk full of magical items on the front. 'No Land for heroes' has a dragon and train on it, while it's sister book 'No port in a storm' has a steamboat travelling down a river, with a figure signalling the shore with a flare.
With a groan, Velta twisted to reach into one of the saddlebags hanging from her broom. Digging past her day’s harvest of herbs and fungi, her fingertips brushed something cool and smooth. Grabbing the little bottle of sea salt, Velta slipped off her broom and lowered herself into the water. The water that enveloped her legs was still cold, despite the warm weather. Her feet kicked up a small cloud of silt that quickly hid the white bones below. Freshly fed, the aloe stirred, sluggishly reaching out to wrap a strong tendril around her leg. Her boot protected her from the small lancets that lined the edges of its leaves. Each secreted a mild sap that could paralyse a full-grown stag, but a plant this large didn’t need its lancets to immobilize her. Its leaves were strong enough that it could drag her under. Unstopping the salt vial, she shoved her hand down as deep as she could without having to put her face into the water. Shaking the little bottle, she let the water dissolve the salt and carry it to the aloe’s base. A second leaf wrapped around her wrist, the little pricks of heat on her arm a warning that if she didn’t act soon, she might join the skeleton for good.
A book cover. The title in blue and indigo text: Strange & Sundry Magics. In blue text at the bottom is the author: Cal Black. Centered on the cover is a cluttered desk with fantastical objects and plants, with a blue ghost cat sitting in front of it, with a cat skull for a face. Next to him is an iron cauldron emitting purple sparkling smoke that curls up around the title.
The list of prompts for #FantasyIndiesJuly
The canadian [canada flag] science fiction & fantasy bundle, june 30-july 6. $20 USD for 16 great reads
a book cover with an etching of an old river paddleboat, with a figure standing on the prow holding a flare that is emitting smoke. On the river bank smoke and light from an answering flare is seen. The title 'No Port in a Storm' is flanked by a green revolver and a green reptilian monster that looks a little like someone crossed a dinosaur and a crocodile. In smaller white text at the top: Legends & Legacies book two' and at the bottom in the same font is the author's name: Cal Black
The opened trunk waited for her as she picked her way over, careful not to disrupt any more dust than she had to. Neatly folded clothing nestled between stacks of books and instruments, and sitting on top of all of it was a once-plush cushion made of velvet and a small box. The cushion had been worn bald in some places, but careful mending showed how treasured it had been, while the box it supported might as well have been polished just yesterday. It was far too small to hold a humanoid skull, and Velta’s stomach sank as she picked it up. Fae were used in some of the old spells before the kingdom had recognized them as people. Velta hoped she wasn’t about to find a little skeleton inside with crumbling gossamer wings. Spotting an engraved message on its lid, she gently picked the box up and ran her finger over the letters. Muffin, the meanest old thing I ever loved. 100 years was not enough. “Muffin,” Velta repeated to herself. Not a fairy, then. No self-respecting fae would name themselves after baked goods. Opening it, Velta was relieved to find a cleaned and bleached animal skull, one of its fangs repaired with a bit of gold while the others were worn from age. Muffin had been a cat. A familiar, judging by the age mentioned on the box, but a cat all the same.
The opened trunk waited for her as she picked her way over, careful not to disrupt any more dust than she had to. Neatly folded clothing nestled between stacks of books and instruments, and sitting on top of all of it was a once-plush cushion made of velvet and a small box. The cushion had been worn bald in some places, but careful mending showed how treasured it had been, while the box it supported might as well have been polished just yesterday. It was far too small to hold a humanoid skull, and Velta’s stomach sank as she picked it up. Fae were used in some of the old spells before the kingdom had recognized them as people. Velta hoped she wasn’t about to find a little skeleton inside with crumbling gossamer wings. Spotting an engraved message on its lid, she gently picked the box up and ran her finger over the letters. Muffin, the meanest old thing I ever loved. 100 years was not enough. “Muffin,” Velta repeated to herself. Not a fairy, then. No self-respecting fae would name themselves after baked goods. Opening it, Velta was relieved to find a cleaned and bleached animal skull, one of its fangs repaired with a bit of gold while the others were worn from age. Muffin had been a cat. A familiar, judging by the age mentioned on the box, but a cat all the same.
a rough sketch of a man lounging in a chair wearing a suit with the shirt undone. Perched in his lap is a glowering elf woman in victorian dress.
A picture of a table in notion, a planning app. The title says "by chapter" with an icon of a chart with an upward red line on it is next to the title. The table is broken down into the following headers: Chapter, Description, wordcount, status (to do, drafted, revised, done), and Structure (ACT I, Opening Image, Set Up, Theme stated, etc) There are three rows as examples: Chapters 1, 2, 3. Chapter 1 is in the middle of revisions, and is tagged with 'opening image' while the other two have a status of "drafted" and are tagged with 'Set up'
a scale of shades of grey, graded from "10" which is black and listed at 0% of light passing through to "0" which has 100% of light passing through.
A grey acupressure mat lies on a wooden floor, the white spikes are on evenly spaced circles. It looks extremely painful but is actually the best thing ever.
folded fabrics, the one on top is green with a leafy pattern while the other beneath is a cheery yellow with matching green leaves and little dark pink rose swirls
A woman monster hunter in miscellaneous bits of armor including tall fox ears stands in front of a giant fluffy bird. All hail bird