A.E. Decker hails from Pennsylvania. A former doll-maker and ESL tutor, she earned a master’s degree in history, where she developed a love of turning old stories upside-down to see what fell out of them. This led in turn to the writing of her YA novel, The Falling of the Moon. A graduate of Odyssey 2011, her short fiction has appeared in such venues as Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Fireside Magazine, and in World Weaver Press’s own Specter Spectacular. Like all writers, she is owned by three cats.
Come visit her, her cats, and her fur Daleks at
My latest release is the second book in the Moonfall Mayhem series, which is a YA fantasy series published by World Weaver Press. It’s called The Meddlers of Moonshine. The first book in the series, The Falling of the Moon, poked fun at the tropes connected with fairy tales. Meddlers is a spoof on Gothic tropes, particularly The Turn of the Screw and Frankenstein. It’s both adventure and humor with a serious core and a host of lively characters.
What was one of the most surprising things you learned in creating your story?
That I can write a 100,000 word draft in under a month! I’m a steady writer, but I envy those authors who can complete an entire book in a few weeks. I still can’t do that—that 100,000 word draft needed much revision, but it was a good confidence-booster to learn than I can keep up a steady pace and finish a manuscript if I need to.
Do you have any interesting or quirks or rituals?
I write surrounded by my collection of Daleks. Well, half my collection; it’s pretty large. Sometimes, when I get stuck, I’ll pick one up and rub my fingers over its bumps. For whatever reason, I find holding genocidal alien pepperpots soothing.
What authors or friends influenced you in helping you become a writer?
I always had the ambition to be a writer, but when I was growing up, I thought you had another career then wrote once you retired, and it would be simple and easy. The internet, which didn’t exist when I was a child, changed my perspective. I could read authors I respected talking about their experience. It made me realize that writing was an actual job, requiring training and dedication. I became much more serious about it, then. If you’re asking for a specific author, I’m a tremendous admirer of Terry Pratchett’s work. I’m still hoping Death brings him back to us.
What does your family think about your career as a published author?
My family is very supportive. I’m still working on earning enough at this business to be fully independent, so I appreciate their aid tremendously. My grandmother wasn’t a reader until The Falling of the Moon was published, and now she reads a book every couple weeks. So I’m not the only one benefitting from the arrangement.
Besides writing, what other interests do you have?
My master’s degree is in history, so that’s a strong area of interest, particularly Colonial American history and maritime history. I also love the theatre—intended to be an actor, once upon a time, in fact. I sew, knit, draw, and play videogames. Oh, and I bake, particularly scones. Particularly chocolate chip toffee scones. Now I’m hungry.
Can you tell us what is coming up next for you?
Currently, I’m working on Into the Moonless Night, the third book in the Moonfall Mayhem series. After that, I will work on the third book of an urban fantasy series about a tomato-obsessed hitman of the supernatural that I’m considering self-publishing. I have a steampunk novel and a stand-alone YA novel brewing at the back of my head. I’d like to get back into writing short stories, but it’s a question of so many words, so little time!
How can readers connect with you online?
For now, my website is www.wordsmeetsworld.com. I’m on Twitter, where I tweet under the name of MoonfallMayhem, and I have an author’s page on both Goodreads and Amazon. I’m going to upgrade my website in the spring, hopefully. I’m too busy to do it justice right now. I’d love to hear from any readers out there. Stop by, and feel free to comment and ask questions.
Something is rotten in the town of Widget, and Rags-n-Bones knows it's all his fault. Ever since he snitched that avocado from Miss Ascot's pack, things have been going wrong. Armed with a handful of memories he never realized he had, Rags-n-Bones searches for a way to put right whatever he did to Widget in the past. If only he knew what it was! Unfortunately, the only person who seems to have answers is a half-mad youth that only Rags can see. Widget is also suffering from a ghost infestation that has the townsfolk almost as spooked of outsiders as they are of actual spooks. While Rags-n-Bones seeks answers in the past, Ascot offers the town leaders her service as an exorcist, only to be handed an ultimatum: banish the ghosts or be banished herself! Who's meddling with Widget? To catch the culprit, Ascot and Rags-n-Bones must match wits with a shifty sorcerer, a prissy ex-governess, and a troublingly attractive captain before the town consigns itself to the graveyard of history.
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There was a hand in the forest, and it held an avocado. “Miss Ascot bought it for me,” said Rags-n-Bones, clutching it to his chest as he ran. The dead leaves crunched softly underfoot, thick and bouncy as a crispy cloud. “That means it’s not stealing.” On his shoulder, Nipper squeaked. Being a rat, Nipper was hazy on the concept of “stealing.” Generally, he felt if you could get something in your mouth, it was yours. Rags-n-Bones wished he were a rat. It would make dealing with guilt much easier. I should never have rummaged through Miss Ascot’s pack, he thought, ducking around a birch. His thumb caressed the avocado’s soft, pebbly skin. If I’d waited, she, or the Captain, or Sir Dmitri, or the Mighty Terror from the Deepest Shadows would’ve awakened and given it to me. He leaped over a log, mouth watering in anticipation of the avocado’s rich, buttery flavor. I should go back right now and— Squeak? Nipper stuck his nose in Rags-n-Bones’ ear impatiently. Rags-n-Bones gave up. He’d take whatever punishment arrived later. Right now, the torment of not eating the avocado was too great to bear. “There’s a grove up ahead,” he replied. “Around that cone-shaped boulder. We’ll eat it there.” Avocados required privacy for proper consumption. How could you possibly know there’s a grove ahead? asked a small part of his brain not drunk on avocado-lust. You’ve never been here before. He shrugged. Ahead just seemed like a convenient place for a grove. A small circle of beech trees, with an old oak smack in the center, its gnarled, moss-covered roots gripping the hummock it sat atop like an old man clutching a tea cake. A foot skidded out from under him as he rounded the boulder, kicking up a trail of wet leaves and the smell of tannin. That’s a lot of detail for a mere hunch. Why, you can visualize the oak, can’t you? That thick, knobby trunk. Those bare, crooked branches. And carved into the bark— Six feet into the grove, Rags-n-Bones stumbled to a halt and stared vacantly at a patch of earth. Something was very wrong. Was he being watched? He whimpered. He was being watched. A disapproving stare pressed almost tangibly on the top of his bowed head. Branches swayed creakily overhead. He watched the wind skitter a fallen acorn across the carpet of leaves. Squeak? Nipper scrabbled at his cheek. I have to do it. Slowly, Rags-n-Bones lifted his gaze to meet the watcher’s. The avocado hit the leaves with a soft crunch as his fingers abruptly slackened. Punishment had arrived sooner than expected.